a/n: welp, it's been a while. I usually don't like putting these notes at the top but given I haven't written in a while, I would rather you – the reader – see this. This chapter makes a big reference to a previous chapter (chap. 2), so I'd rec you re-read it for full cathartic effect! i'm also thinking of making a little spotify playlist for the fic and will link whenever I can.

But yeah, hopefully I can write a bit more regularly now. enjoy!

~ hope you find peace for yourself (new boyfriend ain't gonna fill the void) ~

Puck was the father - that was the only thing Matt could comprehend from the chaos.

When Quinn finally spits it out, it's almost as if time slows. Matt turns his head, expecting to see looks of shock or disbelief on the faces of his friends – but there aren't any. Instead, he's greeted with pity and guilt – as if they expected it.

"Did they know?", if so, Matt wonders why they didn't tell him. He peers over to his quarterback friend, and figures that he was thinking the same thing too.

Finn Hudson stood emotionless for a near-second – it uneases Matt, because he's never seen him so quiet. Even in the face of adversity, the quarterback is usually much more jovial. Never stoic. Never silent.

Until he isn't.

Finn lunges for Puckerman, forcing the mohawked-boy to the ground. Gasps erupt around the choir room, and Matt even hears a small scream - he thinks it might've been Rachel. The quarterback raises up a large fist, and brings it down violently, striking Puckerman; Puck's head nearly bouncing off the cold tile floor with sheer force.

Matt dashes towards Finn instinctively, wrapping his arms around the quarterback – putting all his training as a linebacker to good use.

But the quarterback is stronger than he lets on, and it's only when Mike grabs his other arm that the two of them are able to wrestle him off the mohawked-teen.

Mike takes a deep breath, arms letting go of his hold on Finn Hudson with a certain amount of caution.

The quarterback's eyes narrow, and his mouth opens – bellowing words that Matt tunes out, because he becomes busy with focusing on someone else.

His eyes dart towards the crying blonde in the middle of the Glee room – in the middle of all this chaos.

Her baby-bump was much more prominent now, not even a summer-dress being able to hide it away into obscurity. Her face is a puffy mess of tears and dripping mascara, as she tries so helplessly to plead her case to the quarterback who stood before her.

Mike cocks his head. Their eyes meet for a split second. Her green eyes well with tears, and then look away instantly from his own.

He supposes he should feel anger, and disgust, and loathing for Quinn Fabray. And he does for a moment, as he stood there in that Glee room.

But then all he can feel is pity – and just like that he notices more.

He sees the ogling eyes of the rest of the club members. He sees Rachel Berry's nervous foot-taps, and the deepening grimace which fixed itself on Mr. Schue's face.

Everyone seemed to hate each other, but they all seemed to hate Quinn Fabray even more. The room smelled like secrets and sex – and Matt wasn't privy to either of them.

Finally, he hears a chair crash behind him – breaking his train of thought. It's only then that he realizes the quarterback had left. Leaving a crying ex-girlfriend, bruised ex-best friend, and curious Glee Club in his wake.

It doesn't take Quinn too long to leave as well.

"Quinn, wait up!" Matt jogged down the empty hallway, trying to get to the crying blonde before she reached the sanctity of the girl's bathroom - a holy place where only a few were allowed, least of all McKinley jocks.

She doesn't respond, and Matt can only wonder if she even heard him.

"Quinn-"

"-God, just leave me alone!" Quinn's voice snaps loudly, echoing down the hallway - as she stops in her tracks, snapping back at him. Matt can see the mascara dripping her down cheeks, but the look on her face resembled anything but sadness – she was angry, goodness, she was furious with him.

He nearly takes a step back – nearly. Instead, he curls his fists tightly and narrows his eyes. "How could you do that to Finn?"

Angry green eyes dissipate quickly, welling once more with tears, at the mention of the quarterback's name, "You- God, you won't understand, Mattie…"

Matt takes a few steps towards her. He could feel the power dynamic between them, as he towered in front of her. "I understand perfectly." He snaps back, "I guess the star-quarterback wasn't good enough for the Head Cheerio, huh?"

She shakes her head, wiping tears off her cheeks – smudging mascara and eyeliner in the process. "No, that's not... Finn-"

"-doesn't deserve this." His finishes her sentence - his voice is cold and cutting, and nearly scares even himself. He looks at her – really looks at her. Cheerios uniform replaced by sundresses. Scowls replaced by teary-eyes. "You used to have everything… you…"

He doesn't have the strength to continue the sentence, so instead he lets the words die on his tongue – they taste like ash and regrets.

A silence lulls between them, and he notices her peering at his varsity jacket – green eyes examining every button and stitch which adorned it - as if she was looking at it for the very first time.

His varsity was a deep red. Just like the red slushie flavour. Just like her old Cheerios uniform.

Quinn chuckles. It wasn't a happy chuckle, rather one full of defeat – one full of irony. Green eyes look back up at him – "I was right." She whispers, so quietly that Matt isn't even sure if he's heard the words properly. She moves in close, until he can distinctly see the stain her tears have left on her cheeks. "You aren't any better than me, Mattie."

He's confused at the remark, and yet it reminds him of one she had told him not too long ago.

And before Matt can respond, he feels a strong hand grab his shoulder and push him slightly – distancing him from the crying blonde.

Matt snaps his head, only to find a stone-faced Mercedes stand before him. "Nuh uh. You're gonna have to back up, Matt." Commands Mercedes, arms crossed. "I get that Finn is 'your boy', but Quinnie has been through enough with everyone ganging up on her – she doesn't need that from you too."

Matt nods so hard that he feels like a bobble-head. "No, I-I know! I just… I just wanted to make sure th-"

"-Well do it later, not right now." Mercedes says, cutting him off. She then turns to Quinn, squeezing the ex-Cheerios' hand reassuringly, "C'mon, let's get you cleaned up inside."

Quinn nods slightly, wiping her cheeks. She glances over at Matt, eyes nearly starting to well with tears once more. Her lips move as they say something, but Matt can only catch the end of it, "… Mattie."

And with that, the duo open the girls' bathroom and close it shut behind them – leaving a frazzled Matt Rutherford to merely stare at the bathroom sign in disbelief.

He lets their exchange marinate in his mind for a few moments.

Mattie… Mattie… Mattie

What could she have said to him?

Matt sighs, he had half a mind to lean next to the door – wait for her to come out, and perhaps talk about… everything over a slushie or maybe in the library.

But then he looks down and sees the varsity jacket which he wore. High school jocks weren't supposed to wait for crying pregnant cheerleaders – especially if they had cheated on their star-quarterback of a best friend.

And so, he slowly walks down the hallway. He pays no attention to a nervous Rachel Berry who walked the opposite way, or the silent weeps he hears coming out of the boy's locker room.

Instead, he decides to go out to the football field to get some air.