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Drizzle

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Finn felt like he was doing something unbelievably wrong, standing there with his hands pressed to the glass window of the nursery, unable to tear his eyes away from the baby that had once -- he'd thought -- been his. Even without the name [Fabray, Baby Girl] on the front of the bassinet, he would have been able to tell which one was hers. Which one had been his. Which one could have still been his if Rachel hadn't said that stuff about Jewish baby tests or whatever. Sometimes, Finn wished she would have kept her suspicions to herself. Even if that made him a shitty person.

 

Did it make him a shitty person?


"Do you want to hold her?" An exhausted voice said from behind him, and it was only Finn's intense focus on the baby that caused him to not jump about a foot in the air when the person belonging to the voice touched him on the arm. "Finn?"


"Sorry," he said, watching as the baby opened her little mouth and let out a giant yawn, scrunching her little hands into fists. "I shouldn't be here, it's so wrong of me to be here. I just wanted to see what she looked like."


"It's not wrong of you to be here," Quinn said to him, and he wordlessly moved over so she could join him at the window, gazing at her for a second before refocusing his gaze. The baby's eyes had opened, bright and blue, and Finn allowed himself a moment of pathetic delusion that he was the reason that Drizzle was calmly staring at them, rather than sobbing hysterically like babies did on TV. "And...I would like you to hold her. If you want."


Of course Finn wanted to hold the baby. He wanted that more than anything else he had ever wanted in the entire world, but it wasn't right. He wasn't her dad and he didn't want to confuse the poor little thing, because what if he held her and she thought he was her dad and then Puck and Quinn hated him forever and then...wait, Finn thought to himself, his tiny bit of common sense managing to poke through his thoughts about needlessly traumatizing a newborn baby, where was Puck? "Where'd he go?" Finn asked, blinking at Quinn for a moment, before looking back into the nursery. "Shouldn't you be in bed?"

"I don't know where he went," Quinn said after a moment. "I think he went home." Finn heard her sigh. "I wanted to see her. And...I didn't want to be alone in that hospital room."

Finn reflexively clenched his fists, before remembering that if he thought being held by him would traumatize baby Drizzle, he suspected very deeply that Finn wandering off to beat the hell out of her father would definitely do so.



"Want me to stay with you?" He heard himself offer, before his brain caught up to his mouth. "I can hold her?"


Quinn looked so unbelievably exhausted -- and frankly kind of gross -- that even after his brain caught up with his mouth he still thought his offer was a good one. "Yeah," he continued, placing a hand on the small of her back, just hearing the lectures from Quinn, Rachel, and his mother if he let her fall, "yeah, I can do that." He tried to give Quinn a supportive smile, though he suspected he looked like he was in pain. "You can make sure that I hold her alright, and then I can watch her while you sleep. And take a shower. If you want to."


"You would do that for me?" Finn really didn't like how surprised Quinn sounded, but he merely nodded.


Drizzle was smaller than Finn thought she would be, and the nurse helped settle her in Finn's arms without too much questioning, though she had referred to him as the baby's uncle. Finn had expected Quinn to start ranting and raving about 'giving Finn ideas' and 'giving the baby up' and her typical conversational tangents during the pregnancy, but the blonde girl had simply smiled, a look of pure exhaustion in her her eyes. Finn was tired too, despite the adrenaline that performing at Regionals and telling Rachel that he loved her had given him, and of course his anticipation of finally getting to meet the baby.


"I'm thinking of keeping her," Quinn said after a moment, and Finn stopped staring at the baby for a second, looking up at her. "I mean, my mom says that she'll help me. I wanted to talk to you about it, though."


"Why?" Finn asked. "I'm not her father," he said softly, as he let Drizzle grasp his finger in her hand and bring it towards her mouth, where she began sucking on it. "Why does it matter what I think?"

From the bed, Quinn sighed. "Finn...it matters because if I keep her, you have the choice to be in her life," she explained, though in a more patient tone than he was used to hearing from Quinn. "I'm not going to force you to be in it, but you can have that choice. Father or not."

Drizzle's little body was cradled in Finn's arms, and she stared up at him, her gaze unfocused, but her eyes so incredibly blue. "She looks like you," he whispered. "I really loved her."

"I know."

"Do you think she'll love me?" Finn asked.



Quinn replied, her tone filled with sleep. "Of course," she whispered. "How could she not?"