Work Text:
Jesse Fabray is born on a Thursday, on the dusk of the tenth of May.
Quinn Fabray, 17 and the child's mother, holds her daughter close to her chest. The warm little figure pushes a wave of calm over her mother's heart, but it's only for a second and the tide crashes over the small 17 year old. Fright and uncertainty swirl around her senses, and she looks down at her baby, wanting to promise "it'll be okay, we'll get out of here okay", but Quinn knows a thing or two about clouded promises and that's no way to start a life. Yet, she looks down at her baby, light brown patches of hair on her scalp, and tiny, soft fingers, and for that second Quinn believes in okay.
Finn Hudson, Quinn Fabray's former boyfriend and now semi-friend, hold's his ex-girlfriend's left hand, keeping an inch of distance from the baby girl he thought to be his only some months ago.
Noah Puckerman, father of the newborn, sits in the waiting room of the clinic where somewhere, his old friends are with his daughter. His hands in constant fists, his lips tight, angry and hurt, but mostly feeling tired from the push and pull from Quinn, from knowing there's an entire new life he'll be tending to for forever if that's what it takes.
Everything's been changing, everything always is with teens, and yet the last nine months have been something else altogether, but this is only the beginning for Jesse.
-¤-
[six months ago]
There are these blind spots that fog up his reflection mirrors.
Like pretty girls, but he likes brains too even if his are less than up to par. Finn likes pretty girls, but he has an Achilles heel for people in general who get him and who know what they want. It may not make sense, but Quinn and Rachel had both those aspects. He knew some people had issues with Quinn, but those issues never made sense to him because Quinn was smart, watched out for him, and she knew where she was going.
In every way, he thought he'd screwed that up--screwed up what she was after. He threw the wrench in her plans, but he was not going to run away like a coward. (Even though he'd never been so damn scared in his life.)
But it was Puck who'd thrown the wrench in her life, and ultimately, or maybe even primarily, into his. Quinn didn't help matters, and he saw what the issues were - Quinn knew what she wanted, period. She'd do what was in her best interests, and a little manipulation was harmless so long as she was clear of the wreckage.
(Someone might ask Finn if he still loved Quinn, and the answer would be yes. He sucked at lying, and from the day he found out about Quinn's and his "best friend's" lies, he didn't want anything to do with them.)
There were these signs Finn didn't heed, and even in his 60s he still wouldn't be able to make most of the signs out. He just knew there were signs and that was his fault. He never paid enough attention, not to the loneliness that isolated Quinn so often in her life, not in Spanish or Health Ed or any class for that matter, and not to the feelings Puck had for the blond cheerleader captain.
Yeah, there's that last part about Puck having actual feelings.
Flowers stuck through the vents of her locker, looks from afar begging "don't ignore me", two part time jobs on top of glee club and football, all on behalf of Puck, directed at Quinn.
Finn knew his ex-best friend enough to know it wasn't just about a baby, but Finn also knew well enough why Quinn wasn't investing her prospects in Puck.
-
[five months ago]
"$16.73," Puck droned, sighing at his customer.
"What happened to smile with a service?" Mercedes raised an eyebrow at him.
"Mercedes," Rachel said in a low, but chastising voice. Mercedes rolled her eyes and gave Rachel a five to cover her part of the supplies. She slipped away to Kurt and a Finn hiding behind a stack of paper napkin packages, leaving Rachel at the register alone with Puck.
"You look tired," Rachel commented, however a passive smile remained on her face, nonchalant.
"I look better than you," he smirked. Rachel shook her head, though her lips upturned more. She passed him the money (after she rummaged through her coin purse, exact change and all), and Puck took it.
"What are you all doing here, anyway?" Puck asked, irritation spilling over into his tone.
"Supplies for the fundraiser. We talked about this at the last meeting."
Puck shrugged. "Right. I remember taking a good nap. Up until your nagging voice woke me up."
Rachel sighed and bowed her head. She blew out a breath, and the register rung.
Hearing the ring of the register, Finn looked over, only to have the small smile Puck and the tilted head of Rachel remind him of one hint (Quinn clicking her tongue, cocking her head to the side, berating Puck for something, and Puck only laughing with a grin).
This is what Finn has to thank Puck for - the surges of irrational paranoia and jealousy toward people he used to trust.
-
[four months ago]
Envelopes of money began arriving at Brittany's house, addressed to Quinn. Well, addressed to Brittany's house, but with Quinn's name.
Finn had only allowed Quinn to remain at his house until she found someplace else, but he made it completely clear that the faster, the better. Brittany had allowed her in without a question (Quinn realized this when, the day after she moved in, Brittany's mother acted totally surprised to have this pregnant girl setting up in the guest bedroom). It was a little awkward--okay, totally weird, but it was another adjustment Quinn had to make due with.
Envelopes of money began arriving, Quinn's name in one corner, Noah Puckerman's in another. The first one was the only one to have a note.
Quinn, this is for the baby. Don't throw it out, don't send it back. I don't want it. It's for the baby. And for you, if you want it.
- Puck
It was for the baby, and only for her if she wanted (and she didn't want it, but her baby would need it). She kept it. Every two weeks, an envelope came. Most times the money Puck sent was never much, and once in a grand while, it was a surprisingly good sum. She kept it hidden in a coat folded in her luggage. A long blue coat, her favorite, with large white round buttons that no longer closed around her belly. Maybe it'd fit her again eventually, probably, definitely (she so was not going to keep the weight after the baby was born). Maybe it'd fit her daughter someday.
She kept the money, and just knowing it was there tucked away, it made her grateful for Puck; only a couple of times, honestly, it made her grateful to have someone else also looking out for her daughter.
-
[three months ago]
The gym was reminiscent of former glories. Glee club was awesome now and Quinn didn't miss the Cheerios as much as she thought she would. She did miss the old normal, because this new normal in her life took up time, focus, and energy. In her old normal, in that gym, she cheered on the sidelines, then took charge on center stage. She was the captain for a reason. In that gym, when she looked at it now, she saw blurry snapshots of being tossed in the air, the shouts from the audience ringing in her ear.
At that moment, there was no ringing. Puck sat on the last steps of the audience seats, tuning his guitar. It was rare for him to be there--from what Quinn saw and knew, he was usually sneaking in some sleep if he wasn't out working or at practice.
She walked up to him as he struck of few chords of his guitar. When he heard her steps, he didn't stop, he just glanced up. When he realized it was Quinn, he set his guitar aside and stood up.
"Hey," he greeted her, something hopeful behind his voice.
She smiled softly and said, "hi."
He didn't say another word, only looked at her with wide-set eyes, and it made her chuckle. She walked over to him and sat some inches from where he'd been sitting.
Puck sat back down, and Quinn asked, "you got time?"
"Like, ten minutes," he shrugged.
Quinn nodded, licked her lips. "I got a job. Couple of weeks ago, hardly part time. Brittany's mom talked to a friend of hers who owns a flower shop."
"But you're pregnant."
Quinn had to force herself to not roll her eyes. She clenched her jaw, then released a breath of frustration.
"I'm not an invalid." So she hadn't complete reign of her temper.
"I'm not going to stop sending you money because you got a hardly part-time job."
"Puck--" Quinn shot a glare at him, but stopped herself, "I have a job. I haven't told anyone. Brittany's told Santana, but that's it I think. Anyway, Brittany's mom got me to open a bank account so whatever money I have can gain…interest. I've put whatever you've given me there, for the baby. I haven't touched a cent. I'm also putting in what I can from my job. And…thank you. For the money. The baby will need it."
"No problem," Puck grinned smugly, eliciting a smile from Quinn. She looked down at her hands for a brief second, trying to brush aside the irritating quickening of her heart, when she felt the tiniest flutter in her stomach. She laughed, and touched the spot where she felt the flutter.
"Puck," she said, feeling for his hand. He took her flailing hand, and sat closer to her when she pulled his arm to her. She pressed his hand on her stomach. The touch of his hand made her blood rush for a moment, but it was gone in the next. But surely enough, the blood rush was only dissipating when the baby kicked. Quinn smiled to herself. She'd felt a flutter the first time a few weeks ago, but it had been when she'd been rehearsing a song for glee club in the confines of her temporary guest room. She hadn't told anyone (there was no one to share this with, any of this), but in this case, it was okay. In fact, it was a token of gratitude.
"You feel that?" she whispered, as though trying not to scare away the baby.
"Yeah," Puck said in a sharp breath.
The kicking stopped, and gradually Quinn took her hand from Puck's, having realized she hadn't pulled it away even after he had his hand firmly on her stomach. Puck pulled his hand off after Quinn's fingers left his own, and he studied her carefully. Her hair fell over the side of her face facing him, and her eyes were fixed on her burgeoning belly. When she glanced up, she looked surprised at his stare, but he didn't remove it.
"I gotta get going," Quinn said slowly. She stood up, levered herself, and stepped back down onto the floor.
"Wait," Puck jumped up, and down at her level. "That's it? You say thank you, let me feel the baby kicking? I haven't even seen a sonogram, or…" He had a dozen other things to claim, but didn't know which ones to choose for the moment.
"Or what, Puck? Gone with me to the doctor? Held my hand while I watched those disgusting birth videos? Tell me it'll all be okay while you're wondering what girl will be the next notch on the belt who won't ask you how you'll survive with a baby on the way? Look, I'm grateful for the money. And I'll get you a sonogram. You can be a good father, but let's face it, you'll only be a good part-time father, and I'll let my daughter know that. I won't have my baby growing up thinking she has a full-time father only to find out that he's not--she shouldn't have her head full of expectations, she shouldn't have to be heartbroken at the age of 10."
"So what, you're going to make her cynical, gonna turn her against me?"
Quinn scoffed. "I'm doing just the opposite. I'm going to make her aware of her life, her real life, and I'll remind her that I made a choice, and in your own way, you made your choice too, Puck. She'll see you're a good man, with good intentions, and I'll remind her of everything you did for her even when I wouldn't let you be her dad. I hope to God this little girl loves you, and I hope to God you love her and don't lie to her, don't make her feel protected only kick her when she's down. But I also hope she'll know that you don't live with her for a reason, and that you and I aren't together for a reason."
There were tears on her eyelashes, and blink as much as she could, they didn't disappear. She swiped the back of her hand against her eyes, and sighed.
"I hope to God she's as strong as you," was all Puck said in response, and there, there was that Goddamn fluttering he caused in her own chest. She hated Puck for doing that (for the looks he gave her too, and the words he said to her, and the gestures he did for her), for making her feel guilty when she was doing the right thing.
-
[two months ago]
"Hey Santana," Finn said, approaching her.
"Hey," she grinned, looking him over. Brittany hummed to herself as she scoured her locker, looking for a lost hairpin.
Santana shut her locker, and tilted her head up. "So, what's up?"
"You seen Puck?"
Santana frowned and crossed her arms over her chest. "Thought you weren't talking to him."
Sighing, Finn leaned on his right leg and looked away, looking at no one before looking back at Santana.
"I just wanna talk to him, alright? But I called his job, both ones, and they said he had the day off, and I don't see him anywhere."
"Yeah well, neither do I. What he does is none of my business." Santana flipped her ponytail, and stalked away from Finn. He rolled his eyes and began stepping away when Brittany spoke up.
"He's at make-out point, with Santana's ex. That's why she's mad. At her ex, not Puck."
Finn burrowed his eyebrows. "Her ex?"
Brittany's eyes wandered aimlessly over his face when she thought to herself that maybe she shouldn't have said that exactly. She smiled firmly at him, and waved "laters," and she jogged to catch up with Santana.
Finn set his jaw, muttered beneath his breath, but decided to go to make-out point anyway, to talk to Puck.
He was there within 12 minutes, and it wasn't hard to find Puck--not too many people went out to make-out point before eight pm. Finn rolled up right behind Puck's car, and beeped the horn. No one moved from the car.
Finn beeped again, this time holding onto the horn longer, and Puck stepped out of the car.
"The hell!" he screamed. When he saw it was Finn, he marched toward him. Finn jumped out of the car just as the girl Puck was with did as well, and they met at the hood of Finn's car.
"What the hell do you want?!" Puck yelled, pushing Finn.
"Why are you out here with some random girl?" Finn pushed back.
"What the fuck do you care?" Puck pushed Finn into the hood of the car, and Finn stumbled up, and jammed his shoulder into Puck's chest. Puck grabbed Puck's arm and twisted it when the girl yelled out, "Boys!"
Finn and Puck looked at her, and when she glared at them, they slowly stepped away from each other.
They were all silent for a moment, and Finn finally said, "I just wanna talk."
Puck grimaced and looked away.
"Go talk," the girl ordered him, and walked back to Puck's car, murmuring, "boys."
Finn walked to the hood, and leaned against it. Puck shuffled his feet, then walked to the other side of the hood to lean against it as well.
"You have a day off and you spend it with a random girl?" Finn remarked.
"Jealous?" Puck joked, but Finn didn't so much as smile.
"Quinn's seven months pregnant. You've seen her. It takes her twice as much work to do things now than before she got pregnant, than any of us have to do. You know, she even goes to her check-ups alone."
"She doesn't want me going with her," Puck replied.
"Have you even asked her?" Finn asked.
"Kinda," he shrugged.
Finn breathed in deeply. He stood upright, and walked over to stand in front of Puck.
"You keep sending her crap she doesn't want--flowers, candy. Hell, you tell her things that make her want to believe, but you don't act any different. You still hang out with other girls, have sex with them when you're bored, and then you go and tell Quinn you want to be with her."
"How do you know?"
"What?"
"I said," Puck eyed Finn steadily, "how do you know? Quinn been telling you?"
Finn scratched his head and swallowed.
"Okayyyyy, she told me once. She was crying by her locker, what was I supposed to do? Her hormones are like all over the place--I read that happens to pregnant people. And old women. She was crying and she was by herself at her locker. I was just checking on her, but she wouldn't stop crying. When I asked her what was wrong, I made it worse. She started talking about the average money spent on a child over the course of 18 years, and not having a real home, and how men are stupid and how they make promises but can't keep them, how men are too dumb to actually have the courage to change. She even started saying that she wouldn't mind finding Prince Charming for once in her life if he got her away from boys who make and break her heart, but knowing men, he'd abandon her eventually."
"I can change if she gives me a real shot," Puck muttered.
"Dude, it's not about her giving you a shot. Come on. It's your own fault. She's got every right not to trust you. If you want her to give you a shot, you can't just give her money for your baby, or schedule her into your life when it's convenient for you. You love her?"
For Finn to ask him that was surprising, and Puck couldn't help but wonder if this wasn't just an outreach for the sake of Quinn.
"Course I do."
"Start there then. Stop working backwards."
-
[one month ago]
The clinic was cold and smelled really bad. Quinn was just as cold, but her scent was the polar opposite of bad.
Puck kept looking over at her, but she had no markers of indication that he even existed, at least not to any strangers. She kept picking up a magazine, flipping through it, tapping her fingernails on the cover, then tossing it back on table in the waiting area.
"You cool?" he asked.
Quinn's head shot up, and she sniped, "Every 30 year old woman in here is either glaring at me or looking at me with pity, what do you think?"
But Puck knew that wasn't what she was concerned with--she could care less what strangers who didn't know a thing about her, thought. It was having the guy who'd gotten her pregnant at 16, in a clinic with her where she'd be having a baby in a few weeks, give or take, that made her overtly aware of where she was, both literally and figuratively.
"Quinn Fabray," the receptionist called up, and Quinn pushed herself off the seat. Not waiting to see if Puck followed her, she scurried over to a waiting nurse, and followed her into an even smaller room.
Quinn grabbed the gown on the bed, and walked over to behind a thin paper curtain.
"The doctor will be here shortly," the nurse told Puck, and he smiled at her.
The nurse left, closing the door behind her. The room was silent except for the ruffling of Quinn's clothing and the clinic gown. After a couple of minutes, Quinn emerged, her hair perfectly in place as always, but her clothes lacking. The "gown" was dreary and too large even for her pregnant frame. He smiled.
"What?" she snapped. She climbed onto the bed, and shook her head as she tried to fit herself into the gown. Sighing, resigning, she laid back, the gown still a mess.
"You look gorgeous," he said.
Quinn rolled her eyes, but didn't bother to respond. She wasn't up for disputing his attempts at "wooing" her.
Puck clasped his hands and walked around the room, toying with some figures on a counter, then gawking at the diagrams on the wall.
The door finally swung open, and a female doctor walked in with Quinn's chart. "How are you this evening, Quinn?" the doctor said in a warm voice.
"I'm good. Same as before."
"Alright then, let's just make sure everything is fine with your baby as be--"
The doctor stopped short when she noted Puck's presence.
"You have company," the doctor smiled.
"Uh, yes. This is Puck. Puck, Dr. Warren. He's the…father."
"Nice to meet you," Dr. Warren stretched her hand, and Puck shook it.
"Nice to meet you," he grinned.
"No need to linger," the doctor said, "Puck why don't you head over to the head of the bed, where Quinn's head is. I'll set the ultrasound monitor up, and you two can see how your baby is doing."
Puck went over to Quinn, and she looked up at him. She half-smiled at him, and said, "this is the best part."
Dr. Warren prepared the sonogram wand, opened Quinn's robe near her stomach, and squirted the gel. She lifted the wand, and pressed it over her stomach.
Puck eyed the monitor, not moving his gaze. There was nothing but a black wall with grey grainy spots, when he heard a thump, and then a small series, a little rhythm of thumps.
"That's her heartbeat. Healthy little heartbeat your girl has," the doctor said. Puck's lips stretched in a smile.
Gradually, thick lines of white appeared on the monitor too, until there was a thin outline of a round head, a small body, and legs.
"Oh my God," Puck breathed, "that's a baby."
Quinn laughed. "What did you think was in there?"
Puck rolled his eyes and looked at Quinn to snipe at her with something, but when he looked, her eyes were fixed on the screen, a look of wonderment on her face. He chose not to say anything, for she looked far too content.
.
[14 hours ago]
Pockets of hurt unfolded. Fractured hearts have a tendency of remaining jagged forever and ever.
Labor wasn't easy. Obviously everyone said it was hard for a reason. They also said it was worth it. Most minutes of the day, anyway.
When Quinn went into labor, she yelled for Brittany, and Brittany hollered at her mother. Brittany's mother drove Quinn down to the clinic, begging Quinn to let her call her parents, but Quinn refused.
When Quinn was admitted, Brittany called Quinn's parents herself, but they only thanked her for alerting them. And hung up. Not knowing whether to call Puck or not, Brittany called Finn who said "I'll be right there."
(Finn was always a good guy, hurt pride and all, he was a good guy.)
On his way over, Finn called Puck. He'd been working, but he swore to get someone to cover for him and would get there.
When Finn told this to Quinn after the nurse finally let him through, but only because he happened to be on the emergency release, she yelled at him, saying, "he can see the baby after she's born, after we get out of this hospital! It's enough he got me here, he can wait until I'm ready for his 'fatherly duties'."
"Quinn--"
"Please sir, don't cause her any undue stress," said the nurse who'd been reluctant to let him through.
"Finn, I can't see Puck, okay? Please understand that. If I see him, it'll…it'll be like I want him here for me, and maybe I do, but it's selfish and he'll only mess up anyway. Yes, he can be a good guy, but it's best if he's a good guy just to his daughter."
-¤-
Jesse is born on a Thursday, on the dusk of the tenth of May.
"Is he still out there?" Quinn Fabray, 17 and scared, but hopeful, asked softly.
"I told the nurse to tell me if he left. He hasn't moved since he got here."
"That was like, 13 hours ago," Quinn said in disbelief.
She shifted her arms, carefully holding Jesse's head.
"You tired? The nurse said we could put her in that crib."
"No, I'm fine," she huffed. She was tired, and she'd been holding Jesse for the 20 minutes since they'd brought her in for Quinn to see. It was hard to believe that only an hour and some minutes ago, she'd given birth. They'd told Quinn to get some rest, but she only managed about half an hour of sleep before jolting awake, wanting to see her baby.
Quinn observed the fidgeting child in her arms, and smirked. Her chin was all Puck, far as she could see.
Quinn lifted her head, and looked at Finn. "Let him in."
Finn's head shot up. "Really?"
"Yes," she rolled her eyes.
Finn wasted no time in running out of there.
-
Puck looked disastrous. He kept rubbing his eyes, and he was using a small teddy bear for a pillow.
"Hey Puck," Finn called, grabbing his attention.
Puck's eyes widened at the voice. "Finn?"
"Yeah. Hey, Quinn said you could go in."
Puck smiled, and grabbed the teddy bear from behind his head, and stood up.
"Lead the way," Puck motioned. Finn nodded, and up until they reached the outside of Quinn's room, they were quiet. But when they arrived, Puck cleared his voice.
"Hey man, thanks."
"You're welcome. Just so you know though, she's still a little…," Finn waved his hands over his head, "and yeah."
Puck raised an eyebrow at Finn.
"Real helpful, man," Puck said sarcastically.
"No problem," Finn smiled, blind to the sarcasm. "And congratulations, bro. They're both beautiful. Even if it was pretty gross and I can't look Quinn in the eyes again."
Finn hugged Puck from behind before Puck had a time to react. But Puck patted Finn's arms before shaking them off.
"Here I go," Puck muttered, nerves swallowing him.
Finn pushed Puck, and Puck stumbled through the door. Finn waved, ignoring the glare from Puck, and he closed the door so as to leave Puck alone with Quinn and Jesse.
"Quinn. How are you?"
He flinched at himself at asking how are you.
"I'm good," she responded, and she sounded just like that, good.
Puck mocked himself internally for worrying about how to greet her.
"You?" she asked.
"I'm…I want to carry her," he said, pointing at the baby.
Quinn smiled, and nodded him over to her side. Puck walked in precautious steps, just the sight of the baby's head giving him pause. When he reached them, he found it impossible to take in the sight of his daughter in one glance. He kept studying her, from her head to her toes. He reached to pull back the blanket covering the whole of the baby's body.
The touch of the baby's skin caught him off guard, but it felt more normal than most things he'd felt.
"Hey look, she's got my chin," he observed.
"Yeah, I thought so too," Quinn giggled. She tilted her head up and said in a teasing tone, "so you want to hold her or what?"
Puck opened his mouth, wanting to say yes, but afraid to say yes. The little thing looked so fragile.
"You can't hurt her. She is my girl after all."
Puck bit the inner of his cheek. He put the teddy bear on the bedside counter. He nodded. Slowly, Quinn raised the girl, and moved her toward Puck.
"Make sure to support her head," Quinn instructed as she released hold of the baby completely.
Puck moved his arms awkwardly as he tried adjusting the baby in his arms. When he had her in a hold that, although not doing any favors to his stiff and tired shoulders, seemed to keep the baby passive, he stood still.
"Hey baby," he whispered, "I'm your dad, Puck. Just so you know where you get your irresistible cute factor from."
He lowered his head and kissed the top of her head. "What's her name?" Puck asked, his nose still lowered into the thin patches of her hair, inhaling her scent.
"Jesse."
"Jesse?"
"Yes, Jesse. Something wrong with it?"
Puck moved his head from the baby's, and shook his head. "Just feels like something's missing. Jesse? Just Jesse."
Quinn clicked her tongue. She moved her hand, and reached for the teddy bear Puck had left there. "Jesse Fabray Puckerman. That what you wanted to hear?"
Puck squinted, as though ruminating over the name. "I was thinking Jesse Puckerman, but if we gotta throw the feminists a bone, that's fine."
"If I weren't so tired from 13 hours of labor, I'd throw that bed pan at you."
Puck shuddered at the thought.
"I'm sorry, by the way," Quinn said, fiddling with the little pink teddy bear that read baby's first teddy bear. "I let Finn be there during my labor, and believe me, it wasn't pretty. I think I traumatized him. But I figured that if I didn't need you for however many hours of agonizing labor, I wouldn't need you for much else."
Puck cradled his little girl. He didn't raise his head when he asked, "and?"
"And…" Quinn drawled, "I didn't need you. But I did keep on wishing you were there. Finn fainted when Jesse's head crowned. That wasn't even his weakest moment, believe me."
Puck chuckled. "Wish I was there, too. Least I can look you in the eyes, right?"
"What?" Quinn said, confused.
"Nothing." He cleared his throat. Puck walked back to Quinn, and rested his left knee on her bed. Quinn shuffled over, and patted the empty space.
Puck sat down, sitting on top of his left leg, making sure to leave Quinn her own comfort zone.
"I'm going to take care of you, Jesse, you hear me? I'm not going to run out on you."
Puck looked over at Quinn with a grin, and back at Jesse. "We'll be okay."
Quinn never asked him, but she trusted that when he said we, he didn't mean just him and his daughter.