I do not own Glee.

Concept: Quinn wasn't lying when she told Finn that he was the father.

Faith, Trust, and Pixie Dust

CHAPTER ELEVEN

"So I was thinking Emery might be cute." Kurt piped up. He had thrown his legs over the arm of his chair, an enormous baby book in his lap. "Or Cleopatra." Finn ignored him, his eyes never straying from the door to Quinn's room. As the evening had progressed the number of people in her room had dwindled – first Mrs. Fabray, awkward and clumsy around her daughter, had kept making excuses to leave until Quinn had finally suggested that she hang out in the family lounge. Then Carol had left to clock onto her own nurses' shift on a different floor, although she checked in every now and then. As soon as the doctor had announced it was time to push, Kurt had slipped out the door, followed a few minutes later by Finn. He would give anything to be in there, but after a near-fainting spell the doctor had decided it would be best for him to leave, and Quinn had quietly murmured her agreement.

The only person left in her room was Burt, a steady rock in the confusion and high stress of the past few hours.

"You could call her Cleo," Kurt added, glancing up.

"What?"

"Nothing," Kurt sighed, flipping a page in the book. Finn sighed and stretched, pressing his hands against the arms of his chair and rocking back and forth ever so slightly - anything to get out all of his nervous energy.

He looked up at the sound of a door opening, his eyes lighting on the young nurse sticking her head out the door. She smiled, beckoning them forward. Finn glanced at Judy, asleep on a nearby bench, but decided against waking her.

"I'll be there in a minute," Kurt said as he stuck a bookmark between the pages. He wanted to give the new parents a moment of privacy, although his own excitement was quickly edging out his patience. As Finn stepped in Burt stepped away from Quinn's bed, beaming at the young father as he went to join his own son.

"She did great," he said, closing the door. Quinn blushed as Finn wrapped one arm around her, the other following her arm to wrap around their daughter. She relaxed into him, feeling small in his arms. Not the unimportant kind of small, but the childlike kind, as though she had been born to fit exactly in his embrace, as if in his arms nothing could harm her. Her face was red and blotchy from her efforts, her hair matted and more falling out of her braid than was actually left in it. She closed her eyes for a moment, taking a deep, steadying breath.

"She's beautiful," Finn murmured, his eyes locked on his little girl. The baby was just as red as her mother, her face round as her wails quieted. "Hey baby," he whispered, running his thumb gently along her cheek. "You're beautiful," he added to Quinn who, if it was possible, blushed an even deeper red.

"Do you two have a name in mind?" the doctor asked, setting her stethoscope around her neck. Quinn looked down at her daughter, at the innocent little face. She had supposed that a name would just come to her in this moment; that there would be only one fitting name for their daughter, and she would know it instantly. But nothing came to mind. She shook her head, and the doctor gave her a small smile. "Take your time," she advised them, pulling a couple of folders into her arms, "call if you need anything, alright?"

At her words Quinn felt the familiar grasp of nerves seize her, just like before any of her Cheerio competitions. She wasn't ready – wasn't prepared – to be alone with a newborn. She was just seventeen, she wasn't a mother. Well, okay, technically, biologically, she was a mother but she had no idea how to be one. What if she did something wrong? What if she permanently scarred her little girl?

"You'll be fine," the doctor assured her, seeing the fear in her eyes "just hold her. That's all she needs right now. And I'll wake your mother?" Quinn nodded, not at all reassured. Suddenly the baby seemed to weigh so much more; suddenly she could spot everything that might go wrong.

"I really do love you, you know." Finn said, sitting carefully on the edge of the bed so that he could face her. "And not just because you're the mother of my daughter or any of that."

"But it doesn't hurt," Quinn quipped, trying to lighten the mood. Really, she thought to herself, she'd just had a baby, just spent hours in torturous pain. What she needed now was light, relaxing conversation, not weighty decisions and compliments she didn't know how to return without sounding fake.

She loved Finn, she did. Or, at least, she believed she did. In the past months, she supposed, she had taken him for granted. After all, they lived together now. It was easy to forget that there had been anything before they had fallen asleep side by side each night, awoken curled around each other in the mornings. She hardly even registered when he went out of his way to do something for her anymore – it seemed almost like second nature to him, caring for others. She wished that it was as easy for her.

The silence grew stale and awkward, bitter in her mouth.

"I love you too." She replied, knowing that it was true no matter how forced the words sounded.

A/N: Sorry it took me SO long to update.