Disclaimer: Glee is still not mine.

When she's turned around, Puck notices her obvious limp as she walks away. Noticing how much a struggle it is for her to make it through the front door, he finds himself following close behind. By the tensing of her shoulders he can tell that she's fighting pain.

"Quinn, are you going to be able to make it?" Puck sees her nod just a few steps ahead of him. Her response lasts no more than a second as the limp in her walk returns. He walks up beside her, his arm coming around her securely. Now that he's right next to her, he can see the pain in her face as she cringes with every other step. "You can barely walk, babe. Give me a couple of seconds to get her inside and I'll come out and get you." Quinn stops long enough to roll her eyes.

"Puck, I'm fine," she promises. He scoffs. His gaze tells her he's less than convinced. A small smile comes across her face when she feels that his grasp on her hasn't changed. Quinn stops at the front door, long enough to feel the world begin a subtle spin, tiny lights spotting her vision. "My head…" she mumbles. Before she can complete her mumbled complaint, she can feel two strong arms come around her small frame.

"Something tells me you're not 'fine'," he mutters. "You didn't eat anything this morning." She shakes her head, eyes still closed as she waits for her spotted vision and spinning world to stop. He sighs heavily, placing Beth around the corner as he steps inside. Her weight has shifted, Puck baring most of it as he leads her to the kitchen table. "Sit," he demands.

"Bathroom…"

"I want you to eat something first," he says, already pulling out a bag of Eggo waffles and popping them into the toaster.

"I feel special," she laughed. "You're sparing me your precious waffles."

"You about passed out in front of the house," he pointed out. "This is the first thing I could get my hands on." Quinn smiles weakly letting her eyes close lazily as her head comes down on the kitchen table. She startles as the plate comes down in front of her. "At least three bites before you get up again," he said sternly. She looks up at him and resists the urge to roll her eyes.

"Not even two days and you're playing the Daddy card," she laughed.

"Just eat," he grumbled. She nods, noticing that he's drowned them in syrup just how she likes them. He slides in next to her after covering his own breakfast in spray can whipped cream. "Can you even taste any waffle in all that sugar?" he asked. She nods smiling widely. Puck smirks noticing she's let syrup stick to the corner of her lip. A callused thumb brushes the corner of her mouth, causing a gentle blush to heat her cheeks.

"Can I go pee now?" she sighed after clearing her plate. The only evidence that remains is a deep pool of the sugary substance. He nods, watching her stumble her way out. When she's finally left, Puck sighs heavily. He can't help feeling like an idiot for his less than pure thoughts. Considering what she's been through, Quinn isn't even close to considering any kind of physical contact. They've got at least six weeks before they get there. Given the fact that they're just now tentatively treading the waters of their own relationship, Puck has a feeling it'll be much longer than that, if ever.

"Daddy's a moron," he mumbled walking over to Beth who's still asleep on the kitchen counter. "Your mama's never going to want to be with me again. Or at least not for a long while anyway." It takes him a minute to realize how quiet the house is. A note on the fridge tells him where his mom and sister are out until late that night. He shrugged glad to know they have the house to themselves. It makes first day transition easier. After a minute he hears a shuffle to the family room and not too long after, a grunt in discomfort. Raising a brow in curiosity, he struts into the living room taking in Quinn's pained expression as she lays herself across the couch.

"Oh my God…" she mumbles painfully. His forehead wrinkles in concern, his thumb coming to brush her moistened cheek. She startles at his touch, blinking several times before gazing up at him. "I feel like someone's tearing me apart," she whispered, cringing as she repositioned herself.

"You're not helping anything by lying on this thing," he sighed. Quinn pulls a heavy breath, turning to face him. "There's a reason the sleeping on the couch is punishment," he smirked. "Why didn't you go up and lie down?" She only shrugs. Truthfully, she isn't sure what she is and isn't allowed to do here. She doesn't live here anymore. "You know where my room is and it's gotta be more comfortable than this."

"Anything's better than the hospital," she mumbled. "And honestly, I don't think I'd be able to get back up, even if I wanted to." He sighs as he helps her sit up. Struggling to an upright position, a scalding pain shoots through her. Quinn's only response is a scream and growl combination as a stream of tears flow down her face. "Did I mention how much I hate you?" she cried, glaring over at him.

"A few times," he laughed. Seeing the pain in her face Puck stops mid-laugh. "I'm sorry," he whispered. "There's no way in hell you're staying here," he concluded, gently lifting her up off the couch making his way to the bedroom. Her only argument is a short gasp in surprise. "Relax, Quinn," he mutters. She sighs, defeated. Silently, she smiles at the subtle gesture. She's been doing that a lot lately. Smiling or allowing herself to appreciate.

As he kicks open his bedroom door, she notices it's toned down greatly on the man cave qualities she's used to. His walls are stripped of posters, his shrine of videogames stacked in a corner. Quinn chuckles at the thought of his mother breathing down his neck to tidy up the place. And it is, give or take a few articles of clothes at the foot of an unmade bed.

"You cleaned up in here," she finally says. He nods, setting her on his bed with as little movement as possible.

"I almost broke my damn ankle tripping over my PS3 the other night. I figured I'd pick up a little."

"Your Mom couldn't walk around in here?" she smirked.

"That too. I don't think I've seen my floor in about a year."

"Hey, does your mom still have those over-stuffed pillows lying around?"

"Yeah, I'll go grab you a couple." Two minutes later he returned, a smile quickly coming across his face. "Looks like you won't need me anymore." She looks up at him with a knit brow. "The pillows are taking up what's supposed to be my half of the bed." She smiles, remembering the nights she'd start in the guest room and somehow always end up with Puck. She'd done it so much that eventually he'd just scoot over while he slept. Quinn often found herself inches away from him until she settled in the circle his arms provided, one of his hands wandering to where the bump was steadily growing.

"I hate to kick you out of your own bed…"

"It's cool. I've got a sleeping bag in the closet. I really don't want to be suffocated in my sleep by one of your new best friends." She laughed, painfully scooting to the center of the bed. "Yell if you need anything," he muttered. "I gotta put together the old crib in the attic"

"Puck, Beth is still downstairs on the counter."

"Right," he says in a rush, quietly closing the door behind him. Quinn just shook her head, cringing as she snuggled further into the warm sheets. She sighs contentedly when she realizes that they still smelled like him. It wasn't so much about Puck, really. It was more a reminder of the safety he provided her. The last thing she heard was Puck's hurried stride as he rushed down the stairs as Beth announced her consciousness.

"You have some amazing skill, kid. Am I supposed to feel special or something that you only chose to wake up when I'm doing this by myself?" he asked as he lifted her out of the car seat. Beth's only reply is a sharp cry. Puck can't help but cringe as he goes over the mental check list. Seeing as she'd just eaten before leaving the hospital that could only mean..."Fantastic," he muttered. With a heavy sigh he walks into the nursery.

A few months back he'd decided to turn his music room into a nursery. He knew he'd never use it but something about working with his hands and who the project was for helped him cope with the painful reality of Quinn's decision. And even though it killed him, he was forced to agree. Even when it was done and Beth wasn't theirs anymore, he'd always have this. A reminder that, at one point she was theirs. Even though it meant doing away with his musical sanctuary, it would allow him to remember what almost was. It was better, in a way. Music was the one thing that tore his family apart. He'd willingly walk on scalding hot coals before ever repeating his past.

"Alright, let's do this thing," he sighed. Gently laying her across the changing table, Puck gently strips her down to her diaper. Beth is less than happy with the arrangement, her tiny face curled in discomfort, legs kicking out in frustration. "Shh," he mumbles studying the layout of her current diaper intently. "Okay," he breathes. "According to this, all I have to do is take this thing…." He says, carefully removing the first tabs and quickly doing the same with the other. Puck jumps back a foot, not sure what to except. He hears Beth sigh and takes a sigh of relief.

Momentary peace is shattered when Beth lets out another deep cry. "Hold on, baby girl. I just have to figure out how we're going to do this," he mumbles, carefully pulling the soiled diaper from under her. He scours the room and sees a container of wipes sitting just a few inches from her head. He makes a mental note to thank his mom for stocking the room. "Now, I have no idea what I'm doing, Beth. Hang with me, okay?"

Hesitantly, Puck takes her legs, lifting them gently above her head. Hearing her grunt, he stops short. He swears silently when he realizes that she's managed to pee on him. "Fuck," he whispered. "Beth, you're not making this easy," he mumbles, brushing an elbow across his face. His second attempt is more successful as he's figured out to shield himself from another blow. Quickly, he replaces her diaper and redresses her. Taking a minute to examine his work, Puck notices that it's put on a bit haphazardly. He shrugs, not really caring. As long as she's covered and not complaining, he's not going to risk round three. "Is this gonna work for you?" he asks. Puck takes her silence as a yes and finds his way back to Quinn.

Before he even opens the bedroom door, he can hear her mumbling to herself. He smirks. She's probably talking in her sleep again. Opening the door a crack, he feels himself go tense. The first thing he sees is Quinn curled into herself, gently rocking back and forth.

"Quinn?" he whispered placing a gentle hand on her shoulder. Glistening eyes meet his gaze as he quietly comes down on the bed next to her. Out of the corner of his eye, Puck notices that she's got a death grip on one of the overstuffed pillows. Putting Beth down next to her, he gently uncurls fingers, taking her hands in his own. "What's up?" Quinn can only shake her head, tears streaming freely down her face. His stomach drops when he notices how small she looks. Her vulnerability shakes him. "Another one?" he whispered. She nodded meekly, hugging the pillow closer to her. "Just breathe," he said softly. "It's all in your head."

"He's physically throwing me out on the street…" Puck puts a tentative hand on her thigh and feels her shrink away. He pulls himself up next to her, moving his daughter against him. "I keep trying to jiggle the lock, but no one lets me in…"

"Like I said, it's all your imagination. You're letting yourself feel and see things that make it scarier than it actually is."

"I was thrown out of my own house, Puck!"

"I know that," he shot back. "You have to realize that it's not the end of the world. Once you can wrap your head around that, your brain's going to stop spinning. Once you come to accept it on a certain level, you're not going to wake up scared shitless."

"You don't even know half of what's going on in here," she whispered.

"I can take a pretty good guess," he said gently. "From what I can see, you're just tired of people leaving. You're sick of not being enough for someone. You keep trying and trying and no matter how thin you stretch yourself, you're never going to be enough."

"I gave them everything. I lied, I pretended, just to give them a reason to love me…"

"Quinn, that's not love. That's not even a level of respect. To be loved or respected, all you have to be is yourself."

"I don't even know who that is anymore," she sighed.

"You do. You just refuse to show people. You refuse to let them in out of fear. You don't want to feel because that means you're weak. You have to be strong. You have to hold yourself together so that other people don't have to see you fall apart. Even when you have all the right in the world to breakdown, something, anything can hold you together. Just barely but it does. You gotta be the tough one. You have to be the man because you're all they have left." Somewhere in his lecture, she realizes they're not talking about her anymore. He's not telling her how to handle rejection. He's not telling her to suck it up and deal.

"It's okay to breakdown, Puck. They know how much you've done for them," she whispered.

"No," he growls with a heavy breath. "If there's one thing he taught me it's that guys are supposed to hold their shit together. We're not allowed to be all emotional and shit. That's for chicks. That's for Mom and Mel. I'm supposed to take everything out on the field."

"Just because you let yourself feel, doesn't mean you're not a man, Noah. Doesn't mean you have to do it all the time but every once and a while is healthy for anyone," she said softly, squeezing his knee under the thin duvet.

"This isn't even about me," he said sobering up. "Point I was trying to make is, you have to find a way to block everything out. It's slow but eventually you learn to block it all. Eventually, the one thing that kills you is buried deep enough that you're able to look past it. You're not going to forget it but time will let you handle it."

"Where do I even start?"

"Dig into something. Let something else be your focus. For me, it was my music. I got so absorbed in notes and rhythms that soon enough, that was all I thought about. Mom hated it, but it helped. She doesn't let me use chopsticks anymore…" Quinn allowed a small smile to crawl to her lips at the thought of Puck and air drums or guitars accompanied by Stella's scolding.

"Do you always have to give her such a hard time?" she sighed.

Puck just shrugs, an obvious smirk coming across his face. "She still loves me. How can she not? This is all her genes." Quinn opens her mouth to correct him but stops herself and just smiles. "I'm also her first born," he grinned. "I think she also thought it was either illegal shit or loud music."

"I can't believe you…" she sighed. Puck only shrugs when he hears her pull another heavy breath.

"Shit could always be worse," he muttered. Before she realizes what she's allowed herself to do, Quinn feels her head settle on his shoulder. Leaving it there for only a minute, she startles after feeling the warmth of his skin against her cheek. He's changed into a wife beater again. She smiles, remembering how common it is for him. Wearing nothing but a thin white top is trademark to a domestic Puck. The simplicity is common occurrence for the Puck that only she's allowed to know. She feels tears gather in her eyes as she smiles at the memory. As pointless as it may seem to anyone else, something so small is familiar to her. One tiny detail brings her a comfort, makes her almost feel…at home.

"You're right," she sighed as she lets a yawn slip from her lips. Puck finds his free hand crawling through her hair. A soft sigh escapes her lips as he gently pulls at a lock of her hair. "I just wish they could stop…"

"I hate to break it to you, sweetheart but these bitches are just gettin' started." Quinn runs her hand tiredly over her face and lets it fall back onto the pillow. She bites her lip to fight the whimper that wants so badly to escape as she lands too quickly. She can feel the heat of his hand run carefully through her hair as he chances a light kiss to her temple. Almost as soon as his lips meet her forehead, he pulls back waiting for her to tell him off for being so forward. She doesn't. Instead, her fingers play with the hem of his shirt, her fingers grazing his chest.

Typically, he would be a little turned on and ready to work for something more. The current situation seems to have shut him down though. At least for now. Puck doesn't quite understand what exactly flipped the switch from sex shark to…Well, something else. All he knows is that what he's seen of Quinn today, what he's walked in on just now, he's never seen in anyone. The fact that he finds it in a girl who's so hard headed, so solid. That scares him more than anything. Was that him almost ten years ago? Is what he sees in Quinn right now, what his mom and little sister had been forced to deal with? He's supposed to be good at hiding things, hiding how he feels. The gravity of the situation could have and probably did paint a completely different picture.

As she runs a finger down his chest, she hears her mumble something incoherently. He doesn't push her. If she wanted him to hear her, she would have said something more loudly. She's tracing mindless shapes and the feel of her finger to his skin sends a shiver through him. Puck watches her eyes close as she continues her fluid motions, her forehead settling against his chest. After a few minutes of mindless tracing, he hears her struggle to suppress a yawn and smiles, gently pulling away from her. Her quick shift from a pout to a straight face tells him that she's not too happy with being pushed away.

"Don't fight it," he muttered. "If you're tired, you sleep. Rest up now while she's still out. You're going to need all the energy you can take in the next little while." She groans, fighting the closing of her eyes.

"Can't sleep…" she whispered.

"Just close your eyes, Quinn," he chuckled.

"If I sleep…If I sleep or close my eyes for more than two minutes, I see him…" Puck groaned, positioning himself over the blankets. He begins another slow pattern, wondering how long it will take her to fall into unconsciousness again. The routine goes on for less than five minutes before he hears her even breath. He contemplates staying but then decides that too much too soon will only get him in trouble. He barely makes it through the door before he hears her silent protest. "No….Stay." He raises a brow in question, wondering for a minute how she's managed to pull herself into a dream so quickly. "Please?" she whispers, her eyes almost pleading with him. He sighs quietly, this time electing to settle under the blankets. He takes a minute to rejoice over the idea that he's actually been allowed to be this close to her since the last night they spent in his bed before she moved out.

Puck marvels at how easily her head seems to settle just blow his chin. It's almost as if she belongs there. The rhythmic patterns continue as he helps her settle into the deep sleep her body's been asking for. It takes him a minute to remember that Beth lies between them; her own sleep has yet to be disturbed. Puck groans sleepily, realizing that if he doesn't try and rest now, Beth will have him warn out by the end of her next wake up call.

"Better?" he mutters. Quinn nods with her eyes still closed.

"Just…Just lay here with me a while," she whispers. As the warmth of his body surrounds her, the safety she's been yearning returns. There was something about Puck that just made her feel protected. He's got a gentle touch that went far beyond his rough and edgy exterior. "Maybe your badassy tendencies will keep him away now," she laughs. He lets out a small chuckle in response as his mind fills with possibilities. Most of them make him more than angry. The fact that she's haunted by the face of a man who's supposed to love and protect her builds an anger in him beyond anything he's ever felt before.

He smirks at the irony. A father is supposed to do everything he can to keep his daughter away from guys like him. They're supposed to keep their daughters in some kind of protective bubble from anything and everything that could possibly hurt them. Quinn's situation is rather different, the polarizing qualities reminding Puck that she is nothing like any of the cougars or other cheerios that he's been with. She may play a hard game but if he peels back far enough, she's him in a skirt. So here is, the punk, filling in for her father's shitty attempt at parenting.

Running a hand through Beth's hair as she sleeps, he reminds himself that, come hell or high water, they will always come first. What lies in his bed is his to protect, to keep safe. Out of the corner of his eye, Puck takes in Quinn's softened face as she sleeps. He smiles, deciding that she should do that more. Sleeping makes her look so relaxed. It's a far cry from her pained expressions while she's awake.

"You know they will," he whispers. Carefully, he pulls one of the overstuffed pillows out from under her. Puck notices her cringe while she shifts her body differently against his. He smiles sadly when he settles a hand to her flattened stomach. Quinn being pregnant gave him an excuse to touch her without it seeming like he was in it just to have the feel of her skin against his. Now, he was almost afraid to do anything more than this. He notices her take hold of him, shifting so her nose settles in his shoulder.

"Please don't go…" she mutters. Seeing as she's been asleep for more than ten minutes now, he knows she's not talking to him. At least not consciously. Pulling a piece of hair behind her ear, he chances a touch of his lips to the shell of her ear. With a heavy sigh of his own, he runs a finger down Beth's cheek watching her shift and resettle as he does Her contented sigh lets him run his fingers once down her back before sleep finds him.

A/N: Comments? Questions? Gripes? Complaints? Review and let me have it.