Quinn blinked once and hot tears that gathered in the corners of her eyes streaked down her face. Her vision blurred but she could identify that argyle pattern on anyone, any time of the day. She glanced away, wiped her tears, and willed herself to look Rachel in the eye. Dark hair, red-rimmed eyes, as if she struggled not to cry. Quinn cradled the swell in her stomach.

"I'm so sorry," Rachel whispered. They were in the middle of the loud, bustling hallway, but there was a perimeter that other students knew they should not breach, what with the ex-head cheerleader having a confrontation with the chief school loser. "I fully understand if you want to beat me up. I-if you can, just try to avoid my nose." Rachel took a deep breath, closed her eyes as if bracing herself for the blow—the blow that did not—and would not come.

The blonde just looked at her. "I'm not mad at you," her voice hitched, broken in her throat. "All you did was what I wasn't brave enough to do. Tell the truth."

Rachel smoothed her skirt and sat beside Quinn. "I was selfish when I told him. I wanted to break you two up so he would want to be with me."

"And now, neither of us have him," Quinn sighed. She always knew Rachel was selfish, but then again, so was she. She stared at the ceiling, at the bright white lights, felt her vision burn with the sight of it. "Can you go now?" She tried not to snap, as she turned her head to look Rachel in the eye, still watery, still brimming with unshed tears. "I just really want to be alone."

Rachel's features softened, but she did not move.

"Rachel," Quinn nearly begged. "Please." Her tears came unbidden now, with Rachel looking at her with soft eyes—kind eyes. Quinn so wanted to believe that it was a look of pity, but the way Rachel stayed, unshaken by her glare, by her demands, made Quinn's heart ache. Her shoulders trembled and she curled into herself. Cried tears that were too hot, spilling across her dress. Rachel had the courtesy to look away, to look towards the length of the hallway rather than stare at the crying girl beside her.

It wasn't much. All they did was sit beside each other. But Rachel's unwavering presence there, by the bench in the middle of the hallway, made Quinn's eyes water every time she thought about it.

So maybe that was how it began. How Rachel insinuated herself in Quinn's life through the simple act of sitting beside her. In class, in glee club, in the cafeteria, wherever there was seating and where it was appropriate. At first, Quinn took no notice. She imagined Rachel was just being her picky, stubborn self when she first strong-armed the student who always sat beside Quinn in math class into giving up his seat to her.

"What the heck, you never wanted to sit here before," the boy hissed.

"Well I want to sit there now!" Rachel stomped her feet against the floor.

"This is my seat! Quinn probably doesn't want to sit beside you!"

"Quinn," Rachel said in such a loud voice that the blonde flinched. "Would you mind terribly if I sat beside you?"

"I don't care what you do, Berry."

"B-but, it's still my chair!"

"As far as I know, your name is not etched on it," Rachel muttered. "If you don't give up your seat, I'll—"

The boy sighed and grabbed his belongings and stood violently, the chair scraping against the linoleum. Rachel beamed to herself and immediately sat.

"I most likely took the only thing he has going for him, sitting beside you," Rachel commented as if she did not just domineer the seat from the boy.

"How cruel of you then, to take it away from him." Quinn retorted.

Rachel shrugged. "I'm sure he'll live. See? He's already over the loss." She pointed at the boy who was so stubborn earlier, now chatting happily with the students Rachel once sat beside. She placed her binder in front of her and then retrieved a container with a pre-sliced apple. The fruit, kept together with a rubber band so the flesh would not oxidize and turn brown. Rachel removed the rubber band. She took a slice and nudged the container towards Quinn.

She wasn't entirely hungry, but she knew that if she didn't accept, her stomach, the fetus inside her, or Rachel, would hound her for it. Quinn took a slice of the apple and bit it.

"Thanks."

The brown-haired girl smiled, not her usual megawatt beam. But a smaller, subdued smile. "You're welcome, Quinn."

During glee, Rachel always occupied the front row, usually beside Artie and Tina. And now that Finn seethed with silent rage whenever the blonde walked into the room, Rachel felt the need to sandwich Quinn between herself and Artie, who silently picked up on Rachel's intentions.

"Rachel, you wanna sit here?" Finn offered the chair beside him which he dusted.

Without even bothering to turn around and look at the boy, Rachel said, "no thank you, Finn."

Quinn glanced back, saw Finn's mouth agape. He noticed her stare, and he fumed again. "Why do you want to sit beside a lying, cheating—"

Mr. Schue had virtues Quinn could count in one hand, and perhaps the timing to his entrances was one of them. He entered the room with a bright and happy, "Alright, guys! For this week, the assignment will be…" He paused. That was one of his non-virtues. He was slow on reading the climate of the room. "Is anything wrong?" He asked, the tension so evident in everyone's eyes.

"Nothing is the matter, Mr. Schue," Rachel quipped. Quinn returned her attention to the front of the room. "We were just discussing how Finn might not be suited for the role of co-captaincy at the moment, given his emotional volatility and various pubescent male issues. I'm willing to take over the role in full, if that's perfectly agreeable to you?"

The Spanish teacher blinked, looking from Rachel to Finn, red-faced now, and sweating. "Um, sure. If you both agree to it, why not?"

Quinn waited until Mr. Schue went back to explaining whatever vision he had. When he turned to write on the board behind him, Quinn scooted her chair over to Rachel. "You didn't have to do that. I thought you wanted to date him?"

"Don't you know I'm a fickle girl, Quinn? Whose mind changes with the phases of the moon?" Rachel replied with a smile. She met Quinn's eyes and did a half-shrug. "I re-evaluated and re-assessed, and realized that for the good of myself and the club, that to pursue Finn is not the best course of action. So I decided to put that notion in the backburner."

"I think what Rachel meant to say," Artie whispered to Quinn. "Is that she cares more for you more than she cares for Finn right now."

Quinn glanced back at Rachel. "Is that true?"

Rachel looked ahead, not meeting Quinn's curious look. "I will neither confirm nor deny."

"That usually means yes," Quinn said, nudging Rachel with her shoulder. "But you know, I really don't mind if you go out with Finn."

"Sorry to say, but I mind. Not because he's your ex—that's the least of my concerns. I have a lot of things in my mind as it stands, and I don't want any further distraction from it."

"I thought you had better time management than that, Berry." Quinn tutted with a smile. The smaller girl shot her a glare that had no bite.

"I have spectacular time management, thank you very much," the diva huffed, arms crossed against her chest. "By refusing to form relations with Finn, I am exercising my ability to gauge and evaluate how I can spend my time comfortably. Between glee, academics, you and the baby, and my MySpace career—that is bound to take off any day now—I simply do not have the time!"

"What do you mean, me and the baby?" Quinn asked with a furrowed brow. "Why are you worrying about that?"

"Because I have vested interest in your well-being?" Rachel asked, as if it was the easiest question to answer, as if it was obvious. "Keep up with the times, Quinn."

The blonde gaped at Rachel who broke into a grin that, rather than make her want to argue, made her lighter. Quinn supposed, then and there, that that was how it felt like to be preferred, and not just wanted. She knew how it felt to be desired, lusted over, felt it every day since she started high school. But this was different—how Rachel listed her concerns, put her above her MySpace career, for crying out loud. This was more than wanting, and it constricted Quinn's airway. She wanted to get mad, to tell Rachel to cease and desist, but she also wanted to curl into the comfort of Rachel's concern.

This was more than wanting, because here was Rachel, creating space for her, for Quinn and her unborn child, in her head. Quinn wiped a tear that threatened to fall just as everyone rose to rehearse the dance steps for their group number.

Rachel paused, stepped aside towards Quinn while everyone else got into their positions. "Are you okay? You should sit this one out if you're not feeling it."

"Oh, don't worry," Quinn provided Rachel a watery smile. "I'm feeling it, alright." She squeezed Rachel's hand briefly and assumed her position in the choreography.

The tables the glee club co-opted in the lunch room were close to the centre so Artie's wheelchair could fit through the pathways and was close enough to the exit so that if anyone needed to use a washroom, they wouldn't have to pass by the tables of the jocks and cheerleaders and suffer through jeers with the high risk of getting slushied. The only downside was that it was in the middle, therefore all of them were in plain view. Easy targets, so to speak.

Quinn nearly tripped when Kurt and Mercedes suddenly appeared on either side of her, their arms looped around hers. Kurt took the tray in her hands and returned it to the stack. "What the hell?" She growled.

Morning sickness had taken a toll on her that day and she was starving to the point of delirium. Rachel packed her a peanut butter and jelly sandwich cut in triangles with the crusts cut off, and it nearly sent her to tears, but it wasn't enough to curb her hunger. "What are you two doing?"

"I'm sorry Quinn, but today's state-sanctioned lunch does not look appetizing," Kurt said while he ignored the lunch lady's glare from behind the glass counter.

"And you definitely need something more nutritious than tots, even though they're my fave," Mercedes said. The blonde was escorted out of the lunch line by two of her glee club members.

"What am I going to eat then?" Quinn demanded, but her question was answered for her when Kurt and Mercedes ushered her to the table. The seat beside Rachel was laden with three stacks of tupperwares. One container held a mix of grapes, crackers, apple slices, and cheese. One had mac and cheese with vegetables chopped into it. The third container had brownies. To complete the spread, Rachel placed a bottle of apple juice on the table, still cold from the vending machine.

"Rachel, did you…"

"Santana told me your favourite childhood food was macaroni and cheese. I promise it's not vegan cheese, though I chopped up some broccoli and cauliflower to toss into the sauce as well. The brownies are vegan, as I had no choice. I didn't have any eggs in my house at the moment, but for next week if you would want more brownies, I can get eggs—"

Quinn looked over to Santana who plucked grapes from her lunch to pop into her mouth. "Just eat the damn thing, preggers. I could hear your baby growling for food since second period."

"Santana! Those are Quinn's!" Rachel huffed.

The blonde sat down beside Rachel, wanting to cry. Hormonal rampaging aside, her heart felt full. She sniffed and Rachel froze beside her. "D-did you want something different, Quinn? Like, a salad, perhaps?"

"You already gave me food this morning," Quinn said, her voice sounded as if she was drowning in tears she wanted to shed, for which she blamed her fluctuating emotional state. "Why are you doing all of this for me?"

"Because you're with child, Puckerman can't seem to bother to care about the nutritional guidelines I compiled for him, and–"

"Jesus Christ, Berry," Santana rolled her eyes.

"The long and short of it is—"

"More like the long and long of it," Kurt muttered from across the table.

"Shut up and let her finish her sentence." Quinn snapped.

Rachel's scowl transformed into a bright smile. "It's completely baffling that you're still asking me this question, Quinn. When will you understand, accept, and perhaps even enjoy my concern for you?"

"I don't know, but it just feels you're doing way too much for me."

"You're suffocating her," Santana jibed. "Quinn got too used to negligent boyfriends who don't care a whit about her. The only time they show they care, it's to get into her pants. And look what happened." She jerked her head at Quinn's pregnant belly, which the blonde covered with a protective arm.

Rachel sighed. "I know the baby makes you so hungry so I made you food. That is all there is to it. Now, eat before Santana decides to steal your entire lunch, okay?" She placed a reassuring hand on the small of Quinn's back. The blonde sniffed and murmured a soft thank you to Rachel, and ate the best lunch she had in a while.

At least, until the irritating duo of Karofsky and Azimio swaggered into the cafeteria, carrying extra-large cups of slushy. The sight made Rachel tense beside Quinn, and even more so as they both lumbered in their direction, evil grins across their faces.

"Rachel, they're coming closer," Kurt hissed with urgency.

The dark-haired girl took a deep breath and her shoulders relaxed. "Don't worry," she said as she rose to her feet. "Since they made the mistake of being so apparent," she let the sentence trail off, all casual airs. Rachel gave Quinn's shoulder a squeeze and approached the two largest boys in the entire school.

"What is she doing?" Quinn hissed. "She's confronting them?"

"Good afternoon, gentlemen," Rachel greeted, her hands clasped behind her back. She bounced on her toes as she stood in front of the two boys. "You both seem thirsty, carrying such big vessels for drink. Unless they're for someone?"

"Fuck yeah they're for someone."

"And for whom, might I ask?"

"Who else? You and your homo explosion party," sneered Azimio. "But this is more for the prissy whore, Quinn Fabray. You're not top of the food chain anymore!" He yelled towards their table a few feet beyond Rachel. The blonde froze in her seat. Everyone on their table couldn't move, as if to move was to call attention to themselves.

"Shouldn't have said that," Rachel sang. With what happened next, it was like watching an action movie. Who knew Rachel could move so fast? Before Azimio and Karofsky could rear their arms back to prepare to throw the slushies, Rachel slapped the undersides of both cups with the flat of her palms. The red-dyed ice concoction flew out of the wide rims and slapped the two jocks in the face. The now-emptied slushy cups clattered onto the floor and rolled across the floor.

They gaped at Rachel, stunned. She gave them a small curtsy and returned to the table."I suggest we all get out of here before they recover their senses," she hissed. Everyone scrambled to gather their things. Santana helped Quinn gather up the lunch Rachel made for her, shoving apples and cheese in her mouth in the process. Quinn carried the containers, Rachel's hand in hers to usher her out of the hushed silence of the cafeteria.

"Thank you for defending me," Quinn said, eyes wide from the shock of it. "Actually, thank you for defending all of us. They looked like they had enough slushy to drown us."

"Yeah, Rachel. Gotta say, you looked really cool back there."

Rachel followed them into the choir room where the rest of the club had gathered, relieved that no one had to get changed or wash slush from their hair. "I'm just afraid it'll be a fluke," Rachel admitted. "I have a feeling they'd be sneakier, and they'd target me more. But," she shrugged, eyes meeting Quinn's. "If it'll keep you out of harm's way, then so be it."

"Ugh, gag," Santana rolled her eyes and took a seat beside Brittany.

Quinn remained silent, just matching Rachel's gaze. Surely, someone said something, but she was unable to hear it. Before she could say anything, Rachel broke their eye contact to shake her fist at Santana who stole one of the containers from Quinn's lunch.

"I don't want Santana's sloppy seconds," Quinn joked when Rachel was able to retrieve the tupperware of crackers, cheese, and fruit. They sat beside each other again, knees brushing while Rachel ate her sandwich in silence, while Quinn ate her mac and cheese.

Often she would glance up, peer through her curtain of blonde hair to the dark-haired singer who had an expression of focus in her features as she ate. It was only their knees that were touching, but for that moment, Quinn forgot she had knees, when Rachel met her eyes with a smile.

"Do you like it?"

"Yes," Quinn answered. Then paused. "Wait, do I like what?"

Rachel giggled, and honestly, what else was there? "The food I made you, Quinn. What else could I mean?"

The blonde laughed and shook her head to clear it. "I don't know. But yes, yes, I like it. Thank you, Rachel."

"Stop thanking me!" Rachel groaned in frustration. "It's getting old."

Quinn stuck out her tongue. "Too bad."

The books that shielded her from the rest of the library made Quinn feel safe. Research notes she made on her essay about Anne Boleyn littered the table, and as she wrote, highlighted lines from photocopied sections of books, and revised her outline, she stroked her growing belly. Beside her, more food Rachel made. This time, cookies.

While it was frowned upon to eat in the library, lest clumsy students spill anything on the books, the librarian knew Quinn, knew she cared for the books, and so she gave a pass—as long as no crumbs entered the vicinity of the books.

In the middle of reading through Henry VIII's act of closing monasteries across England, Quinn heard the scrape of a chair and caught a whiff of a familiar scent that now brought her comfort. "Hi," she looked up, and there was Rachel. Being in the same history class, she had to do the historical figure essay too, and she chose Thomas Wolsey. Of all people.

Rachel piled her books beside Quinn's unread ones. "How's the research going? I'm still affronted, by the way, that you don't consider Barbara Streisand a historical figure worthy of an essay."

"Rachel, she's still alive," Quinn said with a laugh. "You can't be a historical figure if you're still among the living."

They worked in silence for a few minutes, just the sound of rustling paper between the two of them. Occasionally, their shoulders touched, their elbows. Neither flinched nor moved away, until Quinn found herself leaning against Rachel.

"Sorry," Quinn murmured as she straightened herself. Rachel looked up from her notes. Rachel's hair, gathered to one side, exposing the length of her neck, her collarbones. "I didn't mean to lean on you."

"I didn't mind. You should rest if you're tired. The homework will still be here when you wake up."

"Thanks, I just might." Quinn lowered her head against the pile of books, closed her eyes, and napped.

Only to be woken by the murmur of low voices. A very angry-sounding Rachel, an irritated Finn.

"How did you even find us anyway? I didn't think you would know about the library…" Rachel complained.

"All I'm asking is one more chance," Finn huffed. "Wasn't that the reason you told me Quinn about being a-a cheat," he spat the word with disdain. "So I would break up with her and we could be together?"

"Yes, well," Quinn felt the sidelong glance Rachel aimed towards her, as she continued to pretend to be asleep. Her hair covered her features, and it allowed her watch Rachel between the gaps of her blonde locks. "My priorities, as I've said before, have altered somewhat."

"What, you care about her now? You didn't care when you were telling everyone her secrets!"

"Shh!" The librarian hissed. Finn flinched and mouthed 'sorry!'

Quinn could feel the radiant heat that emanated from the smaller girl. "Look. Maybe you should enjoy being single for a while. Hang out with your friends, do whatever it is boys do."

"Yeah but, I want to talk about, you know, stuff the guys don't care about. Like feelings."

"Did you ever consider that your friends want to talk about their feelings too? Toxic masculinity kills men every day, Finn."

"What is that? Like, some kind of drug or something?"

"Yes, exactly. Though, it's more of a poison than a drug." Quinn heard the annoyance in Rachel's tone, and she took it upon herself to stir, pretend she was only just waking up. She looked at Rachel, then at Finn, play-acting her bleary eyes.

"How long was I asleep?" Quinn asked, her voice a lower tone than normal. "Hi Finn."

"Uh, hey."

"Only for twenty minutes," Rachel quipped. "Finn and I were just discussing toxic masculinity and how he can help decrease its influence upon himself and his friends." She turned to Finn who looked more confused than ever. "And he was just leaving." She shot him a look that threatened, and then turned to look at Quinn with such doe-like eyes. Alert but gentle. Rachel caressed her back. "Did you sleep well?"

Quinn nodded. "Gave me enough energy to hopefully finish all this research."

At that, Rachel beamed. "Let's do this, shall we?"

With how accustomed Quinn had become to Rachel's orbiting presence beside her for the past few weeks, she felt no qualms whatsoever about what she was about to ask. She closed her locker door and made her way to math class which she shared with Rachel. The smaller girl was already there but it looked like she just arrived, as she was brushing off pencil and eraser shavings off the desk. She pulled out a packet of disinfectant wipes to clean the surfaces on Quinn's side of the table first, before cleaning her side.

"Hi Quinn," she said, pulling out the chair for Quinn to sit on.

"Can I ask you something?"

"Anything," the girl said with no hesitation. It made Quinn smile, but she also raised a sharp brow.

"No hesitations, huh?"

"None whatsoever," she walked around the desk to sit beside Quinn. Rachel pulled out her textbook and other materials she needed for class. As she did so, Quinn watched her profile. The plane of her forehead, her nose. Those eyes, Quinn sighed, and those eyelashes that fanned them. "So, what is it?"

Rachel looked to face Quinn, and the blonde averted her gaze, flushing red. "I wanted to know if… you can come with me to my obstetrician appointment. Finn used to go with me, then Puck, but honestly Rachel, they're no help. They just make me even more nervous."

"I'd love to go with you! When is it?"

"After school."

Rachel's face made a certain expression that Quinn couldn't help but find endearing. The bridge of her nose wrinkled and the lines of her brow deepened. Her mouth moved as if in silent calculation. "We have glee, but it's okay!" She hurriedly assured Quinn who opened her mouth to argue. "They can rehearse without us for one day."

"Regionals is soon, Rachel."

The diva shrugged. "Eh, whatever."

Quinn gawked at her. "You're not—who are you?"

Rachel stuck her tongue out and laughed. "I was joking. It's definitely not whatever since Regionals is important. But you're important too. Your health and the baby's. It's just one rehearsal."

Quinn sniffled. "I'm sorry I forgot we have glee when I made the appointment."

A warm hand soothed her back, and Quinn leaned into Rachel's shoulder. "It'll be fine, Quinn."

The obstetrician's clinic was cold with pale blue walls, grey couches, and a coffee table cluttered with maternity magazines. Rachel ushered Quinn to sit while she checked them in with the receptionist. Quinn cradled her stomach and found it impossible to relax. As soon as Rachel sank down on the seat beside her though, once she felt that familiar warmth and took in the scent of Rachel's hair, she managed to release a shaky sigh. She touched her shoulder to Rachel's and fiddled with the cover of a National Geographic magazine.

They sat in comfortable silence, the radio tuned in to a Top 40 station, songs played through weak speakers. Eventually, a nurse appeared with a clipboard and asked to see Ms. Quinn Fabray. The blonde girl rose, but stopped in her tracks.

"You're not coming in with me?" She asked in a small, vulnerable voice.

"I thought you only wanted me to wait out here—of course I'll come." Rachel hurriedly closed the newspaper she was reading, wrestled with it to get it back in its initial folded state, but huffed and gave up. Quinn giggled.

They followed the nurse into a room with the reclining seat, surrounded by monitors. It smelled clean, like disinfectant, like isopropyl alcohol. Quinn couldn't help but shiver again as she sat on the sheet of thin paper as the nurse directed. Rachel moved as if to sit on the stool for the patient's companion but thought against it. Instead she stood by the headrest of the chair, close to Quinn.

It was a routine checkup. Quinn's doctor was a brusque woman with a gentle touch by the name of Doctor Miwa. She took Quinn's vitals, her blood pressure, and asked after Quinn's overall health and wellbeing.

"Your nutrition seems to have improved since your last visit," Doctor Miwa commented while she leafed through the clipboard where notes were written in a legible hand. "It's great that you've been eating better, Quinn. Your body needs it."

Quinn smiled and looked up at Rachel. "It's all thanks to Rachel. She makes me food every day. If I didn't accept, she'd probably force it down my throat just to make sure I eat."

Rachel smoothed the hair on top of Quinn's head and the blonde found it soothing. She leaned into the dark-haired girl's touch, oblivious to the knowing smile on the doctor's features as she took further notes.

"Well, Rachel. Please keep doing what you're doing," Doctor Miwa said with a smile as she pulled the cart that had the ultrasound machine closer towards them. "Let's check up on the baby, shall we?"

Quinn's belly glistened with the gel, and the doctor operated the machine to reveal the shape of the fetus on the screen. Quinn didn't realize she was holding her breath until Rachel squeezed their clasped hands. Quinn didn't realize she clung to Rachel's hand either, but the girl didn't seem to mind, which Quinn appreciated.

"There it is," murmured Rachel.

Doctor Miwa fiddled with the dials and buttons on the machine, and a steady bubump-bubump emanated from it. Quinn couldn't hold back the tears as they fell, hot against her cheek. She heard the heartbeat before, in previous checkups. It always made her ache to hear it.

"Would you like to know the sex of the baby?"

Quinn swallowed hard, glanced at Rachel, and nodded.

"She seems to be doing well, Quinn."

The blonde girl blinked and more hot tears fell on her cheeks. Her emotion wreaked havoc inside her and her stomach fluttered with the beating of many butterfly wings.

"A beautiful baby girl," Rachel said in awe.

"How would you know she'd be beautiful?" Quinn asked. She raised her hand that was linked with Rachel's, palm to palm, wrist to wrist fused in a tight grip. Their fingers, locked together. She brought it up to her face, pressed the back of Rachel's cool hand against her hot, tear-stained cheek. Quinn let her lips brush the back of Rachel's hand, her hazel eyes bright as she looked up at the diva's features, softened by tenderness.

"She has no choice but to be," Rachel said simply. "She's your baby."

In that moment, Quinn shifted in her seat and looked at Rachel. Nothing but sincerity in those brown eyes, nothing but softness. And something else that Quinn knew not how to name. All she knew was that the butterflies felt renewed, and in her heart, something like lightning.

"Quinn's having the baby!"

Rachel's voice carried through the hall, and everyone in their glee club tensed. They crowded the girl who was taking ragged breaths. Rachel immediately beside her.

"Match my breathing, Quinn, just like we practised!" Rachel mimed deep breaths, but Quinn was too panicked. She clung to Rachel's hand, eyes wide and alert. "We need to bring Quinn to the hospital now! And she clearly can't drive herself on her own there, can't she? Neither can I, because I have to hold Quinn's hand!"

At this, Quinn was unable to hold back a giggle crossed with a sob.

"The bus is about to pull up the front," Mr. Schuester said in a shaky voice. He was trying to be a calm adult, but from his bewildered expression, he was doing a poor job at it. Quinn sobbed and winced in pain as a contraction shot through her.

"The front?!" Rachel shrieked. "That's approximately five-hundred steps away!"

"Rachel, calm—"

"Shut the hell up, Puckerman, this is all your fault," snarled Quinn. "Don't tell Rachel to calm down!"

Artie wheeled himself towards the fray. "Quinn can sit on my lap so she doesn't have to walk."

"Great idea—"

"But my dress is soaked!"

"It doesn't matter. Finn, it'll go faster if you push me." Artie urged, Rachel guiding Quinn to sit on his lap. Another contraction, and she gasped from the pain of it. Rachel's hand took the brunt of Quinn's frustration.

The members of New Directions ran the length of the backstage hallway, with Rachel directing traffic a few feet ahead of Artie's wheelchair-taxi service. She screamed for people to get out of the way or they'll get run over. They reached the front doors just as the bus pulled up the curb with a screech.

Everyone piled in, saving Quinn and Artie for last so they could be the first ones out. Rachel returned by Quinn's side, still breathing in a pace that Quinn struggled to match. Once they were at the hospital, Quinn was lifted onto a wheeled stretcher. She smiled apologetically at Artie whose pants were now drenched.

"Rachel," Quinn wheezed. "Please, I need you to come in with me. I don't think I can—" pain interrupted her request, but Rachel nodded.

"Of course, Quinn," she murmured, smoothing the sweat off the blonde's brow.

"Shouldn't, you know, the father…?" Puck started to speak, but Quinn shot him the dirtiest look she could muster through her sweats and the pain wracking her body.

"I don't care! I want Rachel!" The petulancy could be heard all across Ohio but everyone knew not to argue. Puck stepped away, hands held up. Rachel didn't even bother to gloat, since all of her attention and focus was on Quinn. As the wheezing blonde was carted into the delivery room, trailed by Judy and Rachel, the members of New Directions watched them go.

"Quinn, can I switch hands? I'm getting sweaty."

Quinn burst into a sound crossed between a laugh and a whimper and clutched Rachel's free hand. Rachel let out a sigh and flexed her fingers, making sure she could still move them.

"May I ask, who are you?" Judy asked curiously. "I've never met you before and I'm surprised Quinn wanted you with her—no offence."

"None taken," Rachel assured the older woman. "I'm Rachel Berry, Quinn's…" She glanced at the blonde who had a moment's reprieve from pain. Her head collided with the flat mattress, hair all disheveled, and still she looked divine.

"You can say friend, Rachel," she smiled weakly.

The megawatt smile that could illuminate townships and wide, unbroken fields spread across Rachel's face. "I'm Rachel Berry and I'm Quinn's friend."

One final push, and the sound of wailing filled the room. Quinn had no energy, but that sound invigorated her, electricity shooting her in the pulse. She sat up, all hopeful eyes. Never letting Rachel go.

"We have a healthy girl!" The nurse cried. She brought the baby to Quinn once she cleaned her up, and the blonde couldn't stop the tears, from the anguish, relief, and joy of seeing the child.

"Beautiful," Rachel said in awe. "I told you so. I should've made a wager."

Quinn giggled and leaned her cheek against Rachel's hand. The blonde was cleaned up as well and wheeled to a room to recover. By the time the wheeled bed left the delivery room, Quinn was asleep, passed out from exhaustion, her mother accompanying her.

Rachel stepped out of the delivery room but did not follow. She removed the scrubs, washed her hands. A small sigh escaped her. She returned to the waiting room where the whole of glee club was waiting. Donning a bright smile, she announced the arrival of the baby, healthy and looking just like Quinn and, begrudgingly, Puck.

"She's resting now. The doctor said we can visit once she's awake." Rachel told them. She looked up at Puck. "I can show you where Beth is."

The boy nodded mutely, and they walked towards the nursery where all the newborns slept. Behind the glass wall, rows of infants in cribs. Rachel pointed to the one closest to them. The paper read: Beth Fabray, the date, her weight, and her sex.

Rachel left a speechless Puckerman behind. She paced the hospital hallways and found Quinn's room. The blonde was still asleep and her mom wasn't around, and Rachel guessed she stepped out for a bit since her cardigan was over an armchair. Rachel stood by Quinn's bed and admired her face. Though she saw it nearly every day, it still made her tremble, being this close.

"Rach?" Quinn stirred, eyelashes fluttering. She met Rachel's eyes, and a droopy, tired smile adorned her mouth. "I knew you'd be here. You never leave my side."

Rachel's smile trembled like a water-drenched leaf, heavy with rain, with dew, with tears. Fingertips stroked the bumps of Quinn's knuckles. She willed a moment of bravery for honesty, but no sound came out. Quinn's brow knotted together and she struggled to sit higher up on the angled bed.

"What's wrong? Did I squeeze your hand too hard?" Quinn cradled Rachel's hand in hers, the one she clutched for most of her labour with the tenderness that Rachel only imagined in her dreams. Quinn did not lock their fingers together but she fused their fingertips, their palms, their wrists.

"It's not that," Rachel swallowed. "I'm happy you're safe, I'm happy that Beth is safe," she stared at their joined hands and slipped her fingers between Quinn's as easily as belting a lengthy note.

"Then why are you being weird?" Quinn laughed.

Rachel huffed but returned the smile. "I don't know," she lied.

Reclining back against the bed, Quinn smiled, eyes already half-closed. Rachel waited until Quinn went back to sleep before slipping her hand out of Quinn's. It felt like the last time, because it would likely be. Rachel began this journey of orbiting Quinn to make sure that she and Beth would be healthy as penance for her selfish act of telling Finn and accelerating the further ruination of Quinn's life. Now that Quinn has given birth, it meant that she could go back to being the head cheerleader. Back to being the ice queen, back to being someone else and not as the girl Rachel grew to—she choked to think—love.

Rachel touched Quinn's knuckle one more time.

Rachel left the room, resisted the urge to look back.

The last thing she saw was the face of the sleeping blonde before her eyes blurred with tears.

Quinn took six weeks to recover from pushing a human from her body. Thanks to the fact that she had stellar grades and the faculty knew her situation, she wasn't kicked out nor placed under probation. Every other day, the glee club visited in a rotation to check up on her, update her on the latest drama, and offloaded homework on her lap. Everyone showed up at Quinn's doorstep. All but one.

At first she didn't want to be obvious in wanting to see Rachel again, but when the doorbell rang one Thursday night on her second week off, the sigh that left her when she saw that it was only Santana and Brittany made her stomach roil unpleasantly.

"Way to look happy to see us, Q." Santana said, rolling her eyes.

"Rachel still hasn't visited?" Brittany sat beside Quinn on the living room couch to give her a kiss on the cheek.

"No. How do you guys decide whose turn it is to visit me?"

"Volunteer," Brittany answered. "Kurt tried voluntelling Rachel to have a turn but she said she was busy today."

Quinn frowned. "Oh."

"You know what," Santana huffed. "You look too much like a sad bunny and I can't stand it, okay? Next week, you'll see your little dwarf again. Anyway, here's your homework. Did you know Mike sang at glee today?"

The following week, Quinn watched the clock in anticipation. She didn't know how Santana would follow through with her promise so she could see Rachel again. When the front door was kicked open and she heard shuffling and struggling, Quinn knew. She stepped into the hallway to the foyer and saw Santana holding Rachel's arm behind her back, Brittany carrying the bag of books and papers for Quinn's homework.

"Let me go, Santana!" Rachel cried out, still squirming and struggling from the girl's grasp.

"Take a chill pill, Berry," she unhanded the diva and tipped her chin towards Quinn. "As promised, a delivery. That'll be a hundred dollars."

"That's expensive. You can't cut Q some free shipping, San?"

Santana smirked. "I'm sure Quinn's willing to pay."

Quinn's attention was focused on Rachel, however. How she seemed to avoid her gaze, how she fidgeted with her shirt. "Hi," Quinn ventured to speak.

"Hello, Quinn. Are you sure you should be standing right now? Won't it be a detriment to your recovery if you move too much?"

"Oh, so you still remember who I am, huh?" The blonde snapped. "I thought you forgot, seeing as you haven't visited. Even Finn did. Did I do something wrong—?" Quinn clenched her fist. In the corner of her eye, she saw Brittany and Santana slip out the door, leaving the two of them alone in the empty house. "Did you… all those months we spent together—did you just pity me?"

Rachel bit her lip and took a step towards Quinn. "You need to sit down."

"Don't tell me what to do."

"It's not that I pitied you, okay? When I started being your f-friend, I did it because I felt bad for telling Finn about Beth's father. But the more I was with you, the more I realized that I lo–loike you. As a person." Rachel flinched.

"You have an accent now?" Quinn asked, but she was grinning. Rachel couldn't resist but smile back. The blonde's eyes softened and she took a step closer to Rachel to lead her into the living room. They sat on the couch facing each other. "Then why haven't you visited me since you like me so much?"

"That's the problem," Rachel muttered. "I like you too much. I was only cutting my losses now, before the inevitable destroys me."

"Rachel," Quinn frowned, shifting closer towards the girl. "What are you talking about?"

"You're no longer pregnant, which means you can go back to being a cheerleader," Rachel stared at a piece of fluff on the couch to avoid looking into Quinn's face. "Which means you'll get your popularity back, which means you won't want to be seen around me—"

"Is that how you think of me?"

"I—" Rachel looked at Quinn's features, hurt evident in the way her brow knitted together.

"I want to go back to the Cheerios. But that doesn't mean I want to give you up for it. Just because I wear the uniform, it doesn't mean my memory will reset and I'll forget everything you've ever done for me. Rachel," she grasped the smaller girl's hand. "I was miserable, but then you sat beside me. I tried driving you away, but you wouldn't leave me alone. It's like having the peppiest pink balloon tied to my wrist, bouncing all the time," Quinn chuckled, as did Rachel. "And I was a girl too caught up in her misery to look at the sky, see the balloon, see the stars, see you."

"But now that I've seen you, I can't go back to how it was."

Rachel bit her bottom lip and fidgeted with the hem of her skirt. "I thought that once you go back to the Cheerios that you would deny what we had. I had no doubts that you appreciated our friendship when you were in need, but now that you are fully able to re-climb the ladder from whence you fell, I…" Quinn shifted in her seat so her arm was around Rachel's shoulders. "I was—am afraid to lose you."

"So you pulled away, huh? Instead of talking to me? I thought you're big on talking about your feelings?"

Rachel leaned her weight against Quinn and sighed. "I got scared. I'm used to rejection but it was always from people who don't know me. I was never rejected by a… a friend because, well, I never had one until now."

"Rachel," Quinn smiled and pressed her mouth against the girl's thick head of hair, and murmured into it. "I won't leave you, I promise."

"And I think I developed romantic feelings for you."

The blonde froze in place. Stopped stroking Rachel's hair for one hot minute where they sat, no gap of space between them. Slowly, slowly, Quinn eased back. Rachel avoided her eyes no matter what.

"I never thought of myself as the nurturing, caring type. I wanted to be the one who was taken care of, the one held. Until I took it upon myself to care for you." Rachel continued, though she still refused to meet the intensity of Quinn's gaze. "There was nothing in it for me but the sheer encompassing joy of seeing you happy. And while I know you won't return my feelings, these past few months with you have been… beautiful. To have been beside you was a privilege, Quinn."

She slipped out of Quinn's arms with a sad smile. When she rose to her feet, trembling hands grasped her wrist.

"You say you like me but you didn't chase after me like you did with Finn."

Rachel spun to face Quinn and hugged herself. "I saw Finn as leading man potential. I wanted something from him."

"And you don't want anything from me?"

"I will take whatever it is you are willing to give," Rachel whispered.

"But I'm asking you now. What do you want from me?"

"I want to be able to show you how much I lo–loike you."

"Back at it with that accent," Quinn teased. Rachel smiled tightly. "Rachel, I like you too."

"What? But y-you keep saying that we're friends… You never hinted at any of these feelings—"

"And you did?" Quinn raised her brow.

"Well—I thought that's not what you wanted!"

"I thought that's what you wanted!"

Rachel huffed and stomped her feet on the ground. Quinn released her wrist and fell back on the couch, laughing. "We're a mess."

"The messiest," Quinn grinned. "But that's what I like about you. Your feelings grow too big for any box. It ends up spilling everywhere."

Rachel sat back down and Quinn pulled her into her arms. Her face buried in a mass of brown hair. Rachel's hot breath against the curve of her neck. "Don't leave my side, Rachel," Quinn's voice was a soft, unsure thing. "And I promise I won't leave yours."

"I won't," Rachel said with all the conviction she could in two simple words. Craned her head to look at Quinn, who admired the way her eyelashes fanned out, that innocent look in her eyes. "Can you kiss me now? I feel like I deserve it."

Quinn stroked Rachel's jaw with the widest grin. She dipped her head and touched her lips to Rachel's until they were flush together, until she could feel the resistance, the texture of Rachel's mouth. They kissed and it was an unfurling.

"I'm sorry I avoided you for three weeks."

"Yeah, you have a lot of making up to do."

"You mean, making out?" Rachel grinned.

Quinn cupped Rachel's cheek. "Yes, that's exactly what I meant."

So they kissed. Again and again. Through breathy sighs, through sore lips, through messy, tangled hair, Rachel and Quinn kissed. And never left each other's side. That was, after all, where love resided.