The first time she hears it, she has to do a double take. Quinn can't believe Rachel just called her 'Baby', and for a moment the only thing she can do is gape at the brunette. But Rachel's oblivious; she just smiles her toothy grin, the one with the dimples that makes Quinn dizzy. She's wide eyed, about to ask her if she is high on something, too flabbergasted to make a snarky comment, when she sees where Rachel's addressing her nickname. Oh. Well, that makes sense. Then Rachel's smile diminishes, dimples disappearing, but her "Hello, Quinn" is just as soft.

A week later, it happens again. Quinn enters the Choir room, and Rachel is the only person there, early as common. When she passes by her and murmurs "Hi", the brunette smiles.

-Hi Quinn, hello baby.

Quinn can't help but smile a little; her stomach is still subtle, subtle enough that when she walks down the street, people who don't know her don't notice it. She knows the looks the people who do know her throw her way; disapproving looks, pitiful looks, mocking looks. So far, the only people who don't look at her like that are Rachel and Finn.

Finn's look has a name of its own. Quinn would call it Moron look, but she doesn't feel as witty anymore. It's something of a mix between mild adoration, total confusion, and fear. It's certainly not a pleasant one.

But Rachel's look… so far, she seems like the only one who understands that despite the little human inside her, Quinn is still Quinn. Other people seem to look at her as if she were another person. Quinn with a bun in the oven is the same person, just a little nauseous, a lot more scared, and homeless. But she's still the same on the inside. Well, except for her uterus, but still. Rachel Berry seems to be the only one who knows. That's not strange, really, she should have imagined. So when the brunette looks at her, Quinn sees the same look as always, perhaps a little less cautious, but a little more sweet as well. It makes her want to smile. She does, sometimes.

Sitting with Brittany and Santana used to be fun. On the Cheerios table, the three of them were at the left corner, chatting by themselves. There were times when she would feel left aside, a third wheel, but those were not often. Santana liked to be discreet, or she liked to think she was. Quinn wouldn't burst her bubble, at least not on a good day. On those occasions, she would leave to sit by Finn and his idiotic friends. She could easily drag him onto another table, but time alone with him wasn't something that appealed to her after a few weeks of dating. Now she couldn't bear the idea of sitting on the same table with Finn and Puck, it makes her nauseous.

This days, most lunch hours found her on the outside picnic tables.

Thanks to the weather, they were mainly empty every day. She always sat by herself, a mirror to her own mind. Everybody was going on with their lives as usual when she suddenly found herself outside of everything she had known. Quinn thought her lunch scene showed her life as it was now. She was more than an outsider; she was alone with her sea monkey. Until she wasn't anymore…

It wasn't easy to eat Finn's mom food, not that she didn't know how to cook, but being a single mom was hard and she didn't have the time. It made Quinn feel like her heart was made of stone, heavy in her chest, the fact that an adult had difficulties raising a child. Finn's mom was old and her son was already a teenager and it was still hard. It made the hope with which she woke up every day fade away slowly; she couldn't raise a child on her own. But she had Finn and his mom's support, and she wasn't going to let that go away. She knew it was cruel, putting Finn in the position of teenage dad when he really wasn't, but she understood now when people said that a mother would do anything for her child. She was becoming a mother now, even if it still was hard to believe sometimes, and she wasn't about to be a coward. She would do anything to make this baby safe. Even if it meant being kicked out of her house and abandoned by her parents, even if it meant lying to Finn and his wonderful mother, or even if it meant that, in the end, she would have to let her baby girl go.

Her train of thought was always that way when she was alone, the baby. It was all about her now, she couldn't help it.

The first day Rachel found her in the picnic tables, Quinn was surprised. But really, she should have seen it coming. The brunette sat in front of her quietly and started eating her lunch. It reminded Quinn a little of Miss Pillsbury, the way all of Rachel's food was neatly packed. They spent the entire hour in silence, just sitting there once they finished eating. Quinn didn't know what to say, and really, what could she say? "Thanks for being sweet even though I'm such a bitch to you all the time?" It was the first thing that popped into her head whenever she encountered Rachel. The brunette was always so sweet. Not polite, polite felt false. Rachel was good to her and kind, she flooded her with warmth every time she addressed her baby, and Quinn didn't know what that meant. But Rachel could be fierce and brave when the blonde was being a bitch, which, on a bad day, it made Quinn's skin prickle and made her want to fight even more. No wonder Rachel always got the worse of Quinn's anger; Rachel fueled it with the fire with which she fought back. And when she didn't, Quinn didn't know how to act. Because she was accustomed now to the confrontations and the anger, but when Rachel backed down under her words, she didn't know what to do. It felt wrong, and she felt like it said something really bad about her that she could make someone as strong as Rachel break. She felt sick, but that didn't mean she was able to stop herself. But this situation was different, because nothing bad was happening. They were at ease and silent and it felt almost the same to Quinn. She didn't know how to react to Rachel when things were like that, when everything was calm and soft. Her mind felt almost numb with the things she was afraid to think about when they were like this, and it started happening more and more often.

They mostly didn't talk, and Quinn enjoyed the company, the no pressure for awkward small talk.

Every Wednesday for a month Rachel gave Quinn her sandwich with cheese her dad insisted to make her on his only day off, the sandwich Rachel doesn't have the heart to deny even though her dad always forgets that cheese isn't vegan. Quinn gives Rachel every week the raisins Finn's mom packs for her, which she founds disgusting, but they don't talk all that much.

Quinn is nearly afraid of opening her mouth, really. Lately, she doesn't know what's going to come out; apologies, snarky comments or embarrassing words of gratitude. It seems that now that she has full control of the things her stomach holds, she loses control of her words.

Now they sit together because it's colder and colder and Quinn's side of the table gets Sun light the entire time. It's nice, to be able to receive only normal looks for a while, to be treated like a normal, non-planet person, to hear "Hi Quinn, hi Baby" and "Bye Baby, bye Quinn" every day.

Their arms were practically pressed together to get a little warmth. The sun didn't help much, even if it was noon, because of the cold wind. It really didn't bother her if people saw her eating lunch with Rachel Berry; she didn't have a reputation anymore, at least not a good one. But she didn't want to eat lunch inside, on the cafeteria, where people's lives were the same as usual, in this town stuck in time. Rachel's company was okay, it was calming and it made her feel like she wasn't alone. Being in the cafeteria was suffocating and it made her feel average, normal, a loser. She couldn't take that anymore.

Then it happened; in the middle of Rachel telling her something about Mr. Drew, and her chewing an apple. Rachel stopped talking when she noticed how stiff Quinn was, looking down at her stomach as if…

-Quinn! Is she… are you okay? –Rachel hesitated before resting her hand on Quinn's stomach, and that's when the blonde snapped her eyes up.

-The… something moved. –Quinn whispered so quietly that Rachel wouldn't have heard her if she wasn't so close.

-Did she kick? –There was something more to Rachel's voice that she clearly didn't want to show. Quinn wasn't sure if it was fear or wonder, or maybe a mix of both.

-I don't know. –The blonde shook her head slowly. –Maybe it was just…

But as she spoke, Rachel –consciously or unconsciously– moved her hand up and down her stomach as she spoke the words "Hi, Baby" and the flutter came again.

-Oh.

-Did she move again? –This time, Rachel's excitement was already out of her control and showing in her face.

-Yes.

Rachel looked up, smiling softly.

-I didn't feel anything, but is still too early.

-Really? She shouldn't be moving yet? –Quinn thought it was ironic that Rachel knew more giving the fact that she wasn't the pregnant one, but really, she should have known.

The brunette sat sideways in the bench, crossing her legs, and took a bite of pear before answering.

-She should be kicking by now, but they're soft kicks, right? –Quinn nodded, at least those felt soft. –So it's okay that I can't feel them yet. –She smiled down at her belly, dimples included. –I'll feel her eventually, right Baby?

-You know you can… touch? –She hesitated. –If you want to put your hand on my stomach… that's fine.

Quinn didn't like when people assumed it was okay to put their dirty hands on her belly like it was public property. A woman she didn't know on the supermarket or a teacher that pretended to be curious about her wellbeing. It was annoying. But Rachel… Quinn felt she deserved it. Even more than Finn, who couldn't help but to have a pained look every time he looked at her belly. He never tried to touch it. Sure, he could be enthusiastic about calling her baby 'Drizzle' or about buying her Pokémon onesies, even though he barely had money to pay for doctor bills, but when it came to everything else, he even bend away from her body as to not to touch her stomach when they kissed. Rachel is different, for so many reasons.

She speaks confidently about the baby, not like she is afraid of her, like Finn does. Rachel clearly knows stuff about pregnancy and Quinn would bet money Rachel knew about babies as well. The outside looks were getting worse, but Rachel's never changed. They got warmer, no longer afraid, but that was a good thing. Quinn wasn't afraid to admit that they could be friends, if they tried. But they didn't. Every day, they ate lunch together, and they saw eachother on Glee, and that was about it. But Quinn was content with that; she didn't have the courage to do more friendly stuff with Rachel. She wasn't sure she deserved the friendship, anyway. She had turned it down before and she didn't have the guts to ask for it like Rachel did.

Rachel smiles when Quinn finishes and rests her left hand on the side of Quinn's belly, soft as a feather.

-Thank you. –She says quietly, and then bows her head and murmurs. –Hello, Baby.

Quinn bites her lip and tries to ignore the warmth.

As Quinn sits there, she wonders when everything went wrong.

Rachel was unusually quiet during lunch. She stared straight at her food almost the entire time. Since the day the baby moved, Rachel's been resting her hands on Quinn's belly sometimes, nearly everyday. Today, she didn't. She only brushed her left hand on the side of the bump and murmured "Bye, Baby" before walking away. Quinn stood petrified, watching her walk away because she felt, she knew something was odd. She knows now what happened. Rachel found out.

She's glad now that she didn't offer her friendship; she knows that couldn't have helped her in the end, because Rachel wouldn't lie for her. She wonders if Rachel feels betrayed. And it feels wrong. Because she should be worrying about her baby, about what she's going to do now that she surely can't live with Finn anymore. Moving with Puck seems to be the only answer, and she knows it's not going to be the same. She can't control Noah the same way she could Finn. And she didn't think Puck's mom would be so nice. But still, it's all she has.

She hates the idea, moving in with the guy who lied to her and got her pregnant. As she thinks about it all, she feels the last thread of hope fading away. She can't, just can't raise a baby with Noah. He's irresponsible and immoral and a jackass and she just can't believe everything went wrong so fast. But she can't blame Rachel, because somehow it makes her like her even more, the fact that she told the truth.

The victory at Sectionals is bittersweet. She wants to feel good about it, but she can't. She really doesn't care about the competition when everything else in her life is going to hell. She wants to be at least happy for the other kids, but she can't find it in herself. Finn had approached her after their performance and told her he would drive her and her stuff to Puck's house or whatever it was that she was going to live. She could be grateful for small gestures. Kicked out again, but at least Finn had the decency to drive her.

As they get on the bus, she goes to the last seat and sits by the window. She wants to be alone and wallow in self pity. She wants as much alone time as she can get, not that she only has a few months left with her unborn daughter.

She doesn't notice Rachel sitting next to her at first. Or really, not at all until the brunette speaks.

-Hello, Quinn.

She wraps an arm around her bump, guarding herself for Rachel's accusations, which she was sure would come eventually. When the brunette sees that Quinn's only going to gape at her, she continues.

-Finn told me what he did.

Her expression is hard, and Quinn thinks she deserves it, even if she's got no idea what the other girl is talking about.

-What do you mean? –She whispers.

-He said he told you that you couldn't live in his house anymore… that you had to leave. Quinn, I swear I didn't…

-You did the right thing, I told you that. –She looks down to her stomach, clutching the fabric of her dress. –I wasn't brave, and I don't deserve…

-Come with me. –Rachel interrupts.

Quinn snaps her eyes up, waits for Rachel to take it back, but she doesn't.

-I can't just go into your house like…

-You can't live with Noah. –The brunette hisses. –Have you ever gone into his room? It smells like feet and…

-Finn wouldn't forgive you if you let me live in your house, have you thought about that?

Rachel is quiet for a while. Quinn doesn't know if she should call it a triumph, it doesn't feel like one.

-I thought about a lot of things. –Rachel meets her gaze and keeps it locked as she talks. –Noah's not… he's a good guy, but a father? –She shakes her head. –You're a mother, Quinn. The baby was better with Finn and his mom and it was what you had to focus on. I was wrong, I shouldn't have…

-Rachel…

-No, Quinn. I was selfish, and I just can't believe Finn told you to move out. I tried to talk him out of it, but he's just… an imbecile. After what he saw at your house… I told him this wasn't about him, or even about you. The baby's innocent, and at least until you give birth… -She sighs. –I'm going to say this one more time, and you should think about your answer, Quinn Fabray.

Quinn's heart is thumping in her throat; her breath is labored, like her body knows this is a key moment in her life.

-Move in with me. I talked with my dads and they're furious with me. They told me I should drag you home if I had to. They work a lot and they're not… -She sighs. –It wouldn't be an inconvenience if you were to stay at out house, and money's not… –Rachel seems to swallow whatever topic she was about to drift off and takes a deep breath. –The spare bedroom is being remodeled so you'll have to sleep in my room for a while, but it's yours as soon as it's finished. Quinn… I realize this is more than just you and me, there's someone else involved in this, -her gaze flickers down to the blonde's belly. –and I want to help you with what is best for her. At least until you figure out both of your futures. Now… think about it, tell me when we get to Lima, yes?

Quinn doesn't know if she should laugh or cry. Perhaps all at the same time. She nods and watches as Rachel places her left hand on the side of her stomach and gets close to whisper "Bye, Baby" before getting up and changing seats.

She guesses that now that she sees Rachel every day from morning to night, they're friends, even if they never said it out loud. Rachel's house is… peculiar. They have an Oscar room in the basement and Rachel says her dads make a party there every year to… well, watch the Oscars. But she hasn't seen either of them since she moved. They work a lot. Rachel forces her to sleep on her bed and the brunette sleeps on a spare bed, more like a cot, that she storages under her bed. The brunette also forces her to drink vitamin water and eat all sorts of vegetables she didn't know existed until a few weeks ago. There are workers every day when they come from school, working on the spare bedroom. Rachel said they were remodeling, and also making it sound-proof after their fathers received a lawsuit from their neighbors. Quinn had choked on her milk when she heard that.

Living in Rachel's house is weird; it still feels strange waking up to the sound of Rachel's elliptical in the morning, she still feels weird using her bathroom, opening her fridge or simply sitting in the couch to watch TV. But most of all, living in Rachel's house is overwhelming. She's not sure if that's a good or a bad thing. She's never been more taken care of; Rachel makes sure she eats like, six times a day. She asks her if she needs anything every night, greets her with a smile every morning and a "Good morning, Quinn" and then a graze to her ever-growing belly and a "Hi, Baby". One day Rachel's dads called and, the next day, Rachel and Lucy, the woman who cleans the house and buys the groceries (Rachel insists she's not her nanny) took her to the doctor to get another ultrasound and bought her vitamins. Afterwards, Rachel comforted her while she cried in her shoulder for almost an hour straight.

Living with Rachel feels like a home. She never thought that could be possible, but there's still the feeling in the back of her mind that tells her that something is going to go wrong. It simply can't be this easy, having a home and a wonderful friend and a healthy, kicking-the-hell-out-of-her-uterus baby. And even if it's possible, Quinn knows that, in the end, this family is not going to support her and a baby. She's never talked about that with Rachel. The brunette had said to her in the bus from Sectionals that she would help her until she figured out her future, but that didn't mean that there was a possibility of Quinn living in her house with her daughter. She couldn't impose that on Rachel's dads, even if they sometimes seemed like a myth. And there was still that feeling in the back of her mind that told her that she wanted much more of Rachel that she cared to admit, but she didn't have the time to think about that.

Brittany and Santana had talked to her less and less in the following months; she didn't know if it was because she was practically Rachel's sister or her best friend, or because everything else stood in the middle, breaking them apart. But being with Rachel felt like enough, even if she missed them. Puck was still harassing her about moving together, but thankfully wasn't hitting on her anymore now that she was 'fat'. Jackass.

Being a loser was still what affected her the most on school. It wasn't because she wasn't getting attention or because of the dirty looks anymore. What was hard was people not considering her child in the front part of her body when she walked down the hall and they just crashed into her, it made her so afraid. But thankfully, Rachel walked with her every chance she got, and actually elbowed people before they could touch her belly. It made Quinn wonder why the brunette didn't just duck every time someone threw a slushie at her, or just why she didn't defend at all.

Having to stand Finn's kicked puppy face was hard. She could admit that she wasn't in love with him anymore, and that she was a little angry that he hadn't cared for the wellbeing of her daughter once he found out he wasn't the father; it made her feel that all the love he claimed to have for them was a lie, but all things considered, she didn't want to hurt him anymore. Surprisingly, the one that seemed the angriest about it was Rachel. At first, Finn's disbelieving and hurt look was hard to take whenever he saw Rachel with Quinn, now it was just getting a little old. Rachel told her she had seen the truth about him; that she couldn't forgive him for being so careless about a defenseless unborn child's wellbeing and that, even if she took a lot of the guilt, she just couldn't be with a guy who cheated on his pregnant girlfriend; she had realized just how wrong that was. Besides, she realized that he could be her man lead just as well as he could treat her poorly. So Quinn didn't feel guilty anymore about taking Finn away from Rachel, which should be ironic, giving he was with her first. She just couldn't get bothered by that, a perfect example that she wasn't in love with him anymore.

Sometimes she thinks her baby is against her, like she doesn't want Quinn to hide her secrets. Every time Rachel enters a room, the baby kicks. She doesn't know if it's because her heart starts beating faster or because the baby just knows Rachel is near. Whenever Rachel rests a hand on her belly, the baby just kicks away. Now that she can feel it, it brings the brunette the biggest toothy, dimply, most adorable smile, and Quinn can't help but to smile back. Sometimes they watch movies and Rachel lets her rest her feet on her lap, and when the brunette's wearing a skirt and their skin touches, Quinn's confused about what kind of flutter is going on inside of her. And most of those times, when they watch movies after dinner, they fall asleep. After a while, Quinn would wake up, but not because of the very uncomfortable sensation of sleeping on the couch. Whenever Rachel thinks she's asleep, she rests her head next to her stomach and puts her hand on its right side, and she sings. Quinn wakes up every time, because the baby kicks strongly and moves. But she doesn't have the heart to say she's awake, she's afraid Rachel would stop, and she wants to give her baby what she wants as long as she can. She wants to hear Rachel sing, too. Sometimes, when she feels courageous enough, she opens her eyes. Most of the times, Rachel seems content, she sings softly and with a small smile. But there are times when Rachel's face has sadness written all over it, and those are the times when Quinn finds it harder not to reach out and thread her hand in brown hair. Those are the times when she wonders why Rachel seems to love her baby so much, and what does she think about the baby that makes her so sad. She never has the guts to ask. What if it's another reason for her to be sad? She already has too much of those.

They don't talk about it until late at night, when they're both in bed and the only light is the one that enters through the window. It's been an exhausting day, and Rachel didn't tell her much about her encounter with Shelby, except that it was the last. But it seems that Rachel, as well as her, is thinking about it all, and she's the first to speak.

-Are you okay? –She whispers, even though, as always, they're the only ones in the house.

-I don't know. For now, I am. –Quinn answers just as softly. –Are you okay?

-Perfectly.

Quinn could laugh.

-Please don't lie.

She hears Rachel sigh.

-I'll be. –There's silence. –But I need… can you… -There's a huff. –I just need to know that you'll hold her. Whatever your decision is, just… hold her? At least once. –Her voice is strained, the lump in her throat as evident as the one Quinn can feel in her own. –Make sure she knows you love her. That you always did, that you made everything in your power to make sure she was okay, if you don't keep her. It will mean so much to her one day, to know that she was always loved. –She stops, surely because she can hear Quinn's quiet cry. – That she was loved from the start.

For a moment, there's only silence filled with the heaviness of Rachel's words. Quinn is sure she now knows what Rachel thinks when she sings her sadness to her baby, her concern. It makes her heart break even more to know that Rachel doesn't want her baby to have what she has, a mother who rejected her and fathers that are never around. Rachel is thinking about her baby and wants her to be loved, and Quinn wants more than anything in the world for her baby to have that too. It breaks her heart to know that she can't give it to her. She's failing as a mother even before becoming one.

-Can you… -She trails off in a whisper, but that's enough.

They're both thinking the same. Rachel gets up and goes around the bed, getting into the covers behind her and wrapping her arm around her stomach. Her voice breaks as she whispers "Hi, Baby" and the baby kicks. Quinn barely hears her laugh softly through the haze that is her mind and her body. She's sad and confused, she's grateful, and the only way she finds to show that is to rest her hand atop of Rachel's in her belly, threading their fingers lightly, and leaning back against the brunette's warm body.

It's not the last time they sleep like that.

There's a fleeting second where she wonders why Rachel didn't stay to watch the last performance and to find out the result. But it's just a second, and the next she can only be grateful that Finn stayed behind while everyone else rushed to the hospital. She would be afraid of breaking Rachel's hand if she could be able to think about anything else other than the contractions and the fact that it hurts, that she's terrified, that she wants the baby to stay inside just a little bit longer because she's not ready to let go.

Once they're in the bus, Rachel practically screams to everybody to give her some space to breathe, but Quinn is glad that the brunette sticks to her side, holding her hand and pressing her forehead against her already sweaty temple and whispering that is okay. But that doesn't mean she's not afraid. She's terrified and she can't think about breathing properly because she doesn't want to let her go, she wants to keep her baby forever and even if she knows the baby has to come out, she's not ready.

She's not aware that she is saying it "I don't want to let her go" until she hears Rachel saying that she doesn't have to, than she can do what she wants. And she asks her, maybe to distract her or because she actually wants to know, Quinn's not sure, what does she want to do. Rachel says those exact words "What do you want to do?" And Quinn knows, she's always known, but she can't. She's too young and she's homeless. She may be living with Rachel but it doesn't mean she can bring a baby, too. And what would happen after, when they graduate? She can't go to college with a baby, and she can't live on Rachel's house once she's not there anymore. It's a lot to take in and she can't think about it straight between contractions. She wants to cry, because she doesn't remember the last time someone ask her what did she want to do, or maybe it's just the contractions.

Everything is a blurry. One moment she was back stage, hugging Rachel and bouncing because she couldn't actually jump anymore. Then her water broke and she's on a hospital bed, doctors everywhere while Rachel holds her hand and Puck just stands there, terrified. She screams, tells Puck that he sucks, babbles incoherent things and cries "Not yet, not yet, not yet" between contractions. For a moment, she forgets about everything. Despite the epidural, everything just hurts, and for a moment she even forgets about the inside pain, the outside so great that she does want the baby to get out.

And then time stands still.

She hears the most amazing sound as a great part of the pain subsides, tears flow more freely than ever and for a moment her vision is blurry, she almost can't see Puck's stunned face or hear Rachel's gasp, and then her baby is handed to her. Quinn expected her to be bloody and wrinkly, but she's beautiful. She can swear the baby is smiling, and is the most amazing, gorgeous thing she's ever seen. She can help the huge smile that adorns her face even as her mind catches up and she realizes, the baby is out. She's here, in her arms, and Quinn can't keep her. It's physically painful when the doctor takes the baby; to weight and measure her, but Quinn feels as if she's taken away forever.

Puck comes closer but she screams at him to go away, and he doesn't even flinch as he turns around. She can't feel guilty; she can't think about him, this is all his fault.

-Quinn. –She hears whispered from her other side. Rachel has turned around after watching the baby go.

-Go away. –She cries softly.

-She's gorgeous. –Rachel breathes out, ignoring her.

-Oh my God. –Everything feels like too much and she just collapses. Rachel's there to catch her as she climbs in the bed, hugging her as tightly as she can and molding her body against Quinn's.

Quinn cries and cries and wonders what will happen when she runs out of tears. She doesn't stop until the doctor comes back with the baby and asks her if she wants to hold her again.

-Yes. –Rachel answers right away, at the same time as Quinn stretches her arms.

She wants more time, all the time she can have before she has to let her go. The baby is in her arms and she's light and warm and soft and perfect. She's beautiful.

-Hi Baby. –She hears Rachel whisper. The air gets stuck in her throat and she watches with tear-filled eyes as Rachel traces her index finger along the baby's little nose.

They've met. Rachel is meeting her baby as well and she's saying 'Hi' to her face for the first time. For the last time. Quinn cradles her daughter softly against her chest as her body shakes with silent sobs.

-Oh no, Quinn. –Rachel whispers next to her, almost in her ear.

She feels as the brunette places kisses in her forehead, her temple, her dampened cheek. It's all too much. Everything around her feels soft and warm, Rachel, the baby, it's overwhelming. But she tries to calm down, take deep breaths. If this is her last time with her daughter, she's going to make the best of it. She pleads Rachel not to go when the brunette makes a move of getting out of bed. They stay there, huddled together as much as they can, and Quinn doesn't want the Glee kids to get in. The baby just falls asleep, and they watch her. Quinn rests her back against Rachel's front, the baby in her arms. One of Rachel's arms melts with her own and her other hand holds the baby's feet. Quinn lets herself believe that this is the way is going to be forever. She wants to be happy for a little while, letting the feel of her baby overwhelm her, her sight enamor her, her scent enchant her and Rachel's sporadic kisses to her face flutter in her stomach. Everything could be perfect.

She's so surprised when the door opens and a nurse comes in. She had forgotten about the world, created one of her own in the hour that they rested there, the three of them. The nurse says she has to take the baby to the nursery so they can take care of her. She's too shocked, petrified, to say anything. She lets Rachel cradle the baby in her arms and kiss her forehead, and that's when she listens to it.

"Bye, Baby."

It's so soft she thinks maybe it's in her head, engraved in her memory; it's never going to go away. But the nurse grabs the baby and suddenly it's real. They're taking her away.

-Where are you taking her? –She cries, desperate.

-Just the nursery, to check on her. –The nurse tries to calm her, but she can't understand. Her mind is blank, her arms stretched out to take a hold of her baby again.

-It's okay. –Rachel whispers, both to the nurse and her. She cups Quinn's face and the nurse turns around, walks out of the room with her baby girl.

-Why did you let her take her? –Quinn cries, trying to push her away.

-She's not gone forever. –Rachel tries to reason.

But she doesn't understand what it means to Quinn.

-Yes she is. –She sobs. –I can't keep her, they can't bring her again.

Rachel's hold on her face tightens a little.

-Tell me what you want to do. –She says fiercely, almost like a challenge.

-I can't, I can't. –Quinn shakes her head. Everything, the good and the bad, everything she's ever thought since the moment she found out she was pregnant, everything she felt makes a whirlwind in her mind. She can't think straight, doesn't know up and down and right and wrong. The tears run freely down her face once again.

-You can keep her. She can live with us. Space is not a problem, money is not a problem. God knows my dads will give us everything to cover the fact that they're a myth, that they're never there. Quinn, you can keep your daughter, if that's what you want. We can figure it out, Lucy can help us. You've got options. –Rachel exhales a soft breath, wiping away the blonde's tears. –Quinn, honey…

-I can't… oh God. I can't let her go, Rachel…

Lucy makes fun of them, but neither Rachel nor Quinn find it weird that they've stayed in their room the entire weekend, huddled in the bed with the baby in their arms, just watching her sleep. They trade arms when the other is tired of holding Elizabeth, the closest thing she would ever get to "Beth", Quinn said. It's just like the first time, but it's happier. It's real, Quinn keeps repeating to herself. Rachel only leaves when she has to breastfeed, which is okay because it's kind of embarrassing. Yesterday, she talked via Skype with Rachel's fathers, Hiram and Leroy. They cooed over Beth in the camera from somewhere in Vancouver where they were making business, and didn't seem even a bit surprised that they were there, both of them. Afterwards Rachel would tell her "I told you so", but Quinn is content with her newly found way of getting Rachel to stop talking. Hiram and Leroy said that the guest room could be changed into a nursery, which made Quinn start crying for the hundred time. Lucy then told her they could go and buy a crib and baby furniture, perhaps when Elizabeth turned two years old and the three of them didn't fit on the same bed anymore. Rachel let that one slide.

But for now on, Quinn is content with what she has. Something that, really, is more perfect than anything she could have ever imagined for herself. A week ago, she though about this time as one of sadness and loneliness, of heartbreaking. But she lives a different reality now. One where she can stay hugged with Rachel and her baby girl all day, watching her sleep, cooing over her and stroking her soft, warm cheeks. A reality where home is true, and it's not going away. Where she won't need to find a way to let her daughter know that she loves her, because she can tell her every day, she can hold her everyday. A reality where everything is warm and soft and light, and where she hears "Good morning Quinn, hi Baby" every day, followed by a kiss on the lips.