She calls him the night after leaving Shelby's, amazed that she managed to drive at all through the onslaught of tears.

He's just getting out of the shower, about to get ready for bed. Tonight was one of the few nights that he had actually stayed home after dinner, and not gone to Shelby's house to help out with Beth in one way or another.

"Hello," he says in a certain way, because no matter how mean she can be on the phone, he's always nice back.

"Am I a horrible person?" she asks him through the receiver, words slightly mumbled due to her tears.

"What?" he asks, furrowing his brows as he slips on a pair of boxer briefs. "Q, where is this even coming from?"

"Am I a horrible person for giving her up?" she asks again, wiping away the tears that kept falling down her face. "Because all I wanted was for her to have a good life. A better one than I thought I could give her."

"I know…" Puck says with a sigh, sitting down on his bed.

"Am I a horrible person for wanting her back?" she cries. "Because she's perfect, Puck. She's my perfect thing and I don't know what I'm going to do without her.

"No. You're human. It happens," he tells her, slipping into a pair of pants. He pauses for a beat. "Where are you?"

"Inside of my car…"

"No," he says with an unseen shake of his head. "I mean, where's your car?"

"Outside of your house…"

He heads downstairs then, walking to the front door where he sees her car. Waving her inside, he waits for her to get out and head in before he leads them to his bedroom.

"You can leave whenever you want," he tells her. "My ma's working the graveyard shift so she won't be back for hours."

She nods. Slipping off her flats, she crawled into his bed, assuming the side she had spent countless nights sleeping on back in the day.

It's early, he notes. While he would have sat in front of the couch for a few more hours (at least until 2 AM) he opted for this. Because she needed someone right now and he could do with the company as well.

Getting into bed after her, he leans over and wraps an arm around her. She takes that arm and holds it tightly against her chest, squeezing her eyes shut tight in order to stop the tears from flowing.

"I'm lost," she tells him in a whisper.

"I'm pretty lost myself," he tells her.

"Can we ever be able to find ourselves?" she asks softly, voice nearly broken.

"No," he tells her. "But we can find each other through all of this."

She ended up spending the night that evening.