Glee - Father of Seven - 7/?
Santana wasn’t really surprised to see the redness in Quinn’s eyes when she got out to the car. She was waiting because they’d made plans for some sisterly movie watching and baby moaning. What did surprise her was that Rachel Freaking Berry walked out of the school with her. Berry went on to her own car, but the way she had touched Quinn’s shoulder before leaving said something. They had shared something after Finn went stomping off. Santana had seen him practically run to his truck a few minutes after Glee had let out. It took almost half an hour for Quinn to follow. Berry must have heard them or found her or something. And Quinn let her… do something.
Well, whatever. If Quinn wanted to start making friends with Berry that was her business. Santana’s responsibility right then was to get Quinn home and ply her with ice cream. And listen to her cry about Finn some more. But she could do that. That’s what sisters did.
And Quinn would listen to her whine about Brittany. She could admit that whining was what it was. But damn it, she missed the blonde. She’d dumped Sam in front of her, hoping she’d get the message, but it didn’t seem to have gotten through. Brittany hadn’t even tried to talk to her again.
She wanted her best friend back.
~
Finn was fuming when he got home. First of all, she’d cheated on him. Again. Secondly, with Puck. Again. And to top it all off? She was pregnant by him. Again! He had kicked the piano bench before storming out earlier, and while stomping up the steps of the house, he viciously attacked the porch bench, too.
He tore his way up to his room, where he threw himself onto his bed and literally screamed into his pillow until his throat was raw. Why did she do that to him? What was it about Puck that made her stray like that? He didn’t understand, but he knew he couldn’t take her back again. He couldn’t take the risk of her hurting him like this anymore.
He had told her so in the choir room.
“I… I can’t do this anymore. We’re through, and that’s it. Not again.”
Then he had run out of the school like he was being chased by something terrible and ugly. But it had caught up with him. It was pain. Heart tearing pain. Nothing had felt like this before. Not even his broken arm in eighth grade hurt this way.
When he sat up, he realized the pillow was soaked. His eyes were sore and dry. His face was a little stiff. He’d been crying. When had that started?
He heard his mother call him down to dinner, so he went to the bathroom and washed his face before going downstairs. Kurt was there, back from the doctor. The first thing out of Finn’s mouth was, “How is he?”
Kurt looked up, startled. “He’s… as good as he can be, considering how unsafe this is. I hadn’t realized before…”
Finn looked at his mom. “He’ll be okay, right?”
“I don’t know, honey. It’s a dangerous position to be in. He’ll have to take care of himself.”
“There’s only a fifteen percent chance of success,” Kurt said quietly, staring at the empty plate in front of him.
“What?” Finn had no idea it was that low. He’d thought at least fifty-fifty, good or bad, right?
“Normally it’s thirty, but… He’s having twins. The chances of them all three making it are really low.”
“Shit.” Finn didn’t care that his mom gave him that disapproving look for swearing.
When dinner was over, Finn drove over to Puck’s.
~
Puck had been analyzing every possible outcome of telling his mother about the baby. Babies. Shit. Father of five. Beth would always be one of his babies, even if he’d never held her. Had only seen her twice. Shelby had kept her promise of photos. He’d gotten one after Chanukah and one had come that afternoon, just before Passover. He could expect one in October, between Yom Kippur and Sukkot. But that was it. She hadn’t included a letter or anything. He didn’t know if she was talking yet. Or walking.
But he knew she had Quinn’s golden hair and a pair of doe brown eyes and rosy cheeks. And that much meant a lot to him.
The doorbell caught his attention, but he stayed in his room, letting Sarah or Mom answer. When a knock came on his door followed by Finn’s voice, Puck smiled a little and shouted that it was open.
“Hey man,” Finn said, sitting on the bed and grabbing up a game controller before turning on the system.
“Hey.” Grand Theft Auto started up and Puck grabbed the other control, eager for some teenage interaction.
Finn was strangely quiet for a while and Puck was starting to worry. Had Quinn told him? If she had, was he totally pissed? It started affecting his game and Finn finally asked if he was feeling okay.
“Yeah, I’m fine.”
“You sure? Kurt told us what the doctor said.”
Puck paused the game. “He did?”
“Yeah. Man, he… He’s scared. So you better be careful, okay?”
“Duh,” Puck snorted, rolling his eyes. Was that all? Finn was just worried about the potential death sentence. Half an hour later, Puck was feeling much better about Finn sitting beside him.
“I broke up with Quinn today.”
Well, there went the ease of playing with his bro.
“How come?” he reluctantly asked.
Finn glanced at him and then the game. “She told me.”
“Oh.” They were quiet for what felt like an eternity. “Are you mad at me?”
“No.” Finn sounded surprised and his character’s car crashed, so Puck looked over to find him looking back. “Why would I be?”
“Uh, cuz I knocked up your girlfriend a second time?”
“You didn’t know we were back together. I never actually told you. When did it happen?”
“She didn’t tell you?”
“No. I guess she could have lied about when it happened, but she told me it was after we got together.”
“Oh.” Puck looked down at his uneven, bitten finger nails. “Happened at Berry’s party.”
“I thought that was when-”
“It was. I… Honestly, I don’t even remember getting into Rachel’s room. The three of us were just there, naked and having fun, so I went with it.”
“Wait. You, Quinn, and Kurt all slept together?” Finn had one of the most affectionately confused looks on his face.
“No. Kurt and I went up later on. Quinn and Santana and I.”
“Oh.”
“Uh-huh.”
“Well, it could be worse, right?”
“Not really.”
“Santana could be pregnant too.” Puck closed his eyes for a moment. “She isn’t, is she?”
Puck just nodded. He didn’t know what else to do.
“Holy shit.”
“You can’t tell anyone, okay? We’re all gonna tell on our own eventually. It’s just… It’s hard to do.”
“It’s scary.”
Puck sighed. “Yeah.”
~
Brittany didn’t know what to do. It was frustrating. She loved Santana, she did. And she knew Santana loved her now, too. But she loved Artie, too. She didn’t want to hurt him. She couldn’t hurt him. He was the best boyfriend she’d ever had, other than maybe Kurt. He was the nicest, sweetest, most polite boy ever.
He didn’t get mad or threaten to break up if she didn’t want to have sex. He didn’t order her around or make her do things she didn’t want to. He just took care of her. It was amazing.
But Santana was the girl she had loved for years. Santana broke up with Sam earlier that week and Brittany was… She didn’t know what she was. Except for confused.
Ever since Santana told her she loved her, Brittany had been uncertain of everything. She just wanted everything to be simple again, like when they were kids.
On Friday, she decided to talk to Santana again. Because she missed her best friend.
“Santana? Can we talk a minute?” The brunette looked up from her locker and nodded slightly.
“What is it?” She sounded a little upset, but Brittany figured that was okay. Talking and opening locks at the same time was hard.
“I… I miss you. I want to make things better. What can I do?”
Santana sighed, pulling her locker open slowly, checking for something. Gnomes, maybe? Brittany was always worried about them. Seemingly satisfied with the gnomelessness of her locker, Santana pulled it open and started taking out books. “Dump the cripple. That’s what you can do, Britt.”
Brittany bit her lip. “Isn’t there anything else? I really like Artie and I don’t want to hurt him.”
Frustration on her face, Santana turned to Brittany. “You don’t want to hurt him. What about me? Do you care that you’re hurting me?”
“I-”
“Because I did something for you that I don’t do for nobody. I presented you with my heart. I told you how I felt. And you handed me a second place trophy before skipping off back to your scrawny boyfriend.”
“Santana, I didn’t-”
Santana shook her head. “I don’t want to deal with this right now. I’ve got to get to class.” She slammed her locker shut and stomped off. Brittany stood, watching her go.
She hadn’t realized she’d hurt Santana so much. She hadn’t meant to. Not ever.
~!~