TITLE: The Right Reasons
AUTHOR: ponderer
SUMMARY: "One day, you'll be here for the right reasons," she tells him, squeezing his hand.
SPOILERS: Basically the whole season, thus far.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Um, this came to me one night when I couldn't sleep. Let me know what you think by reviewing. Kthanx.

"I'm pregnant," she whispers.

He's back in high school, his cheerleader girlfriend is in tears, and she's pregnant. They're pregnant. They're going to have a baby. They didn't have sex, but they're going to have a baby.


Hot tub.


His mom was going to kill him. Better yet, his celibacy club girlfriend's parents are going to kill him.

Rachel was going to be hurt. So hurt.


Hot tub.


It's too late now; he knows. They'll keep it. He'll find a job and help raise the baby. Maybe now they'll have sex. Maybe his mom will be excited.

But the baby momma's parents were going to hunt him down. He can run fast though, thanks to football practice. He'll have to learn to survive for the baby. Not let anything stop him from being the best dad.

She's smiling, he can feel it against his throat as her lips move over his collarbone, up his Adam's apple, across his neck. She's also giggling, he can feel it hum through her chest, which is resting on his. She's at peace.

When she peaks up, she's crying. Small, wet droplets leave her eyes and stream down her cheeks. She's still smiling though, her eyes crinkling and her straight white teeth are blinding him.

"We're going to have a baby, Finn," she whispers and she's still laughing and smiling. She moves up, resting her weight on her palms, as she clamors over him. She leans down, kissing his mouth once, then twice, longer.

She's terrified. She has every right to because she's barely sixteen, still in high school, and knocked up. With a Jesus-like baby.

(And no, she won't let him have sex now; still, but he blames her hormones.)

The school doesn't know for now, things still under wraps. He knows it won't be for long, because the books say she'll start showing eventually and her Cheerio uniform won't fit. They'll be the laughing stock of the school; both the easily most popular kids in school and pregnant. This isn't going to go over well.

"What do you think of this?" she asks, leaning in to their bedroom from the bathroom. She's wearing what must be the fifth dress in the past forty-five minutes (all of which he thinks looks good, but she insists you can already see a baby bump and it's been a week since she told him). He's on the bed, cleaning his dress shoes. He barely mumbles the appropriate, "You look very pretty," before she scoffs and goes back into the bathroom, already unzipping the dress.

Three try-ons later and she's finally chosen the second dress she tried on maybe three times and she's just staring at her reflection, placing her hand on her belly. He looks up from tying his shoes and stares too. He's standing then, moving across the tan carpet, all the while watching her hand as it moves up and down.

When she notices he's there, she's sort of frowning, "I already feel huge."

He is still staring at her belly and how there's a living thing in there and it's his and hers. He places his hand over hers, and looks back up at her. "You're perfect."

She's starting to show now, the Cheerio uniform long confiscated, and the whole school knows. Glee's been their number one supporter and it's really nice knowing who you're true friends are. Even his best friend is there, giving him handy tips about pregnancy; especially about morning sickness which he finds absolutely disgusting.

Once, he finds her coming out of the bathroom followed by Rachel. Later, he asks Quinn about it, and she says nothing more then, "Everything's okay." He wants to talk to Rachel about it after practice, but Quinn has a doctor's appointment.

He watches her leave, waving at the both of them as she passes, and he wishes for something else; something different.

"I'm huge!" Quinn moans, trying to zip up her jacket. He hands her his own letterman's instead, and she smiles as she pulls the sleeves up her arms. She's lost in it, but he thinks she looks all right.




Heartbeats feel like a bass drum during a parade echoes through his chest while they watch a small black and white monitor while the doctor explains how the baby will grow. He's not really paying attention to what he's saying – concentrating on counting the beats, measuring the time between, wondering if he could later drum this tune by memory.

"Finn," she says and she's just as in awe as he is, but she's not so good with drumming, so he thinks he'll teach her when they get home.

"We make beautiful music together."

The blowout happens when Quinn's six months along. Their parents know by now, basically throwing Quinn out, but she's staying with Santana some, and then her aunt for the rest of the time. She's quit Glee because she can't fit in the costumes anymore and explains she doesn't want the club to not hit regionals because of her fat ass. They disagree, but she's completely stubborn.

That and giving the baby away.

But then it's whispered in the halls that the baby isn't his after all and it's really quiet when he walks into the classrooms and Puck's being extremely weird. Quinn looks really pale.

It's Tina and Artie that explain everything to him; the latest tabloid. Mercedes and Kurt told them and felt it'd be easier to hear from two gentler souls. So they sit him down in an empty classroom after glee practice on a Friday night.

They tell him how it's not his baby; it's impossible to get pregnant the way Quinn explained it. He's confused and nervous but he sees that they are bracing for another hard truth they would clearly rather not give. "It's Puck," Artie says, pushing his glasses up his nose. Tina looks so sad, like she's going to cry at any minute, and he sees Artie hold on to her hand and really, he finds he wants some sort of comfort.


Hot tub.



He can't find words, he's completely numb and shut down. Tina and Artie stay with him silently, on each side of him, Tina has her hand over his on the desk gently.

Finally, maybe an hour later, he stands with a jerk. He moves to the door stiffly and is about to leave before he turns. "Thanks," and they nod at him.

"We're pregnant!" she tells their parents over dinner. She's holding her champagne glass but she's not taking a sip and everyone's wondering why. They all smile and jump from their positions to take turns hugging them. They move their hands to her stomach, hoping for an early glimpse of life there, but it's too soon – he remembered that.

"Congratulations, Finn," his mother says into his ear as he reaches down to her level to hug her earnestly. When she pulls back, she's crying, joyous. "I'm so proud of you."

"I'm so proud of you," Mr. Shue says later that Friday night. He's explained everything to his teacher – his father-like figure.

"For what?"

"For not punching Puck out. That takes a lot of guts," he says, with a grin. He smiles a bit too, and it's a real one – the first since that afternoon when he felt the baby kick at lunch time.

"I really want to though."

Mr. Shue is quiet, clasping his hand on his shoulder. "Totally understandable."

He walks home, his car left back at school. It's really dark out and it's pretty cold only in his hoodie, but he braves it. He feels almost relieved at the situation (because yeah, he's not the dad and he's single for the first time in awhile.)

But it's not resolved yet.

"Finn?" Rachel asks, peering up into his eyes sleepily. He doesn't say anything, just leans down and captures her small frame in his arms and holds her.

"It's not me," he repeats into her hair, her neck, her shoulder. She holds the back of his head with one hand, running her fingertips through his hair.

She repeats, "It's okay now."

She's all sweat and moans and she's red in the face, head tilted back as she screams. He holds her hand in his, whispering his love for her, for the baby. They make eye contact; and then there's a new yell. They turn and see a baby – their baby. He's pink, open mouthed, limbs curled up quivering. She rests her head back on the pillow, eyes closed in tranquility. He watches the nurse take the baby to weigh him and he looks down at her and kisses her forehead, her cheeks, her nose.

"Finn," she whispers, a wide smile on her face and he's reminded of their wedding day and prom night and when they made it to regionals, and then nationals.

"I love you," he whispers against her neck, cradling her body in his as much as he can.

"Here's your baby boy," the nurse says, breaking their moment. "Would you like to hold him, Rachel?"

He was at the hospital the day Quinn had the baby. So was Rachel, and the whole glee club, and Puck and his mom and Quinn's parents. Puck comes out hours later wearing yellow scrubs and he looks liked he imagined he would look one day, coming down the hospital hallway. "She's perfect," he murmurs.

They've made up, him and Puck. It's tense some, because he was going to be a dad for awhile. But he made Puck own up to his kid and Quinn… and well, to him too.

He lets Rachel lead the way to the nursery window long after everyone's left. They peak in and see the small Puckerman sticker on the little bed, a pink baby yawning at them. Rachel takes a picture with her camera, smiling.

"One day, you'll be here for the right reasons," she tells him, squeezing his hand.

He stands in the hallway of the same hospital, looking in the nursery window. Rachel's at his side again, wearing the ugly blue hospital gown. She looks exhausted, but beautiful as always.

"He's perfect," he murmurs, placing his hand on the glass over the baby that says Hudson. She smiles at him, leaning into his side. He kisses her head.

"Let's go," she breathes across his arm, tugging him into the nursery. The door closes behind them with a faint thud.

He remembers the beat of the baby's heart and taps it out on the baby's belly and tells him a story. Rachel watches tiredly, nodding off in the rocking chair. Finn doesn't mind, picking up the blue package tenderly, holding under the head for support. He hums into the fuzz of hair, smelling a new scent of him and Rachel and sighs.