Summary: A tragic loss brings two misfits together, despite their complicated past.

A/N: Before you read this: This story will have scenes that some readers may not find suitable. This chapter, and the one after, contains tragedy and character death.This is a Rachel/Puck fic, but Puck himself doesn't actually get introduced into the story for another few chapters. Sorry about that, but the background information is necessary, or at least I think that it is.
-This story was inspired in part by the Bon Jovi song I'll Be There For You.-

Disclaimer: I do not own Glee, any of it's character or the plot of the show. Glee belongs to Ryan Murphy and Fox.
I do not own the song by Bon Jovi, I am just using it for a title.

I do own this plot line.

She woke to screams and the smell of burning fabric and metal. Her head was pounding, and she was having trouble seeing through the black smoke that hung thickly in the air. She could feel that she was upside down. All the blood from her body had rushed to her skull, and was settling there. She could feel the mask on her face that kept her alive as the plane practically fell out of the sky.

She maneuvered her body in an effort to get down from her seat safely. She unbuckled herself when she felt she was in the right place. Her legs felt like jelly as they touched the ground. She found herself having to clutch onto the arm of her seat so she didn't fall to the ground.

She could smell something else in the air now, it was more distinct than the fabric and steel. Smells like copper. She was vaguely aware that she was smelling blood. The fact didn't really register with her. She couldn't concentrate on anything. Her focus was everywhere and nowhere all at once.

Daddy. Her thoughts were scattered, but she could feel something was wrong. On instinct she looked at the chair her father was sitting in, forgetting that she could barely make out the shape of her own hand.

"Daddy?" She called out, choking on the smoke that was making its way into her lungs. "Daddy!" She started frantically searching around her for her father. She was using her hands to make up for her lack of sight.

He wasn't in the chair that was next to her. She moved her search to the ground, or the ceiling of the plane since it was upside down. Her hands hit the leg of a body. She thought for sure that the person would stir since her hands hit them rather hard, but the person didn't even flinch. She ran her hands around the body trying to find the hands. She knew that her father wore two rings on his left hand. His wedding band that her dad gave him was worn on his ring finger. A thick ring with a heavy stone was on the index finger.

She found an arm, but knew that she would find nothing on the right. She went across to the other side, it felt like her hands were covered in soda. The stick mess coated her palm but she continued to the left arm without another thought.

The left hand was adorned with two rings, one on the ring finger and another on the index. She could feel the contours of the stone on the index ring. She knew that the person on the ground was her father. It scared her when she recalled that he hadn't moved when she hit his leg.

"Daddy." She took him into her arms and shook him. He was a small man, about her size, only a head taller and several pounds heavier. He felt heavier. "Daddy, wake up." She continued to shake him, but her efforts failed. "Help!" She called over her shoulder. She began coughing again as more smoke went into her lungs. "Hello? Can anyone help?" She called again.

But no one came. She lifted her father a bit more so she could drag him out of the wreckage.

She was nearly to the entrance when a group of figures blocked the light.

"Help!" She called again. The figures rushed to her. "It's my dad, he is unconscious." She was in hysterics by that point, unable to hang on anymore. She took a deep breath, but remembered that she was in an enclosed space with no clean air. Three figures took her father from her and carried him the light. Another helped her up and outside as well.

She inhaled deeply when she was away from the smoke. The clear air burned her throat.

"Excuse me? That was your father?" She nodded at a man that spoke to her. "The ambulance is coming in about two minutes. We are near Cincinnati, so that is fortunate. You both will need to get checked."

"Is he going to be okay?" She asked, her voice weak and fragile.

"I'm not a doctor miss. I don't know." He walked away, leaving her with the motionless body that belonged to her father.

She looked around her, watching a tragic scene unfold. Groups of people were huddled together. Some near motionless bodies, much like herself, and others hanging on to those they loved. Everyone was crying, babies were screaming. It was almost chaos. In a way it reminded her of Lost the television show, except they weren't trapped on an island.

She sobbed and clung to her father. No one dared touch the teenager, no one dared to speak to her either.

"Daddy, I love you." She whispered. "Please be okay."

The ambulance took her and her father to The Good Samaritan Hospital in Cincinnati. A team of emergency doctors and nurses rushed her father away on a gurney.

"Ma'am? Can you tell me your name?" A stout lady with orange red hair spoke to her softly.

"Rachel Berry."

This is my first story on this site.

Please review, I'd love to know what you think.