fic: if my heart was a compass - 10/10 - glee, brittany/santana, nc-17
Title: If My Heart Was A Compass (10/10)
Author: zerodetorres
Characters: Brittany/Santana, Quinn, Puck
Rating: NC-17
Length: 8,688 (of ~58k)
Timeline: Season 1
Summary: Santana Lopez has a plan. A three-point plan. A really fucking efficient three-point plan that's going to get her the hell out of Ohio. This is her story.
Notes: Time for some girl talk, Man-Hands. Ahaha, just kidding. Time for a minor sap moment though. Thanks so much to everyone who has found enjoyment in this fic, even the ones who are too shy to speak up. ;) Big thank you to those who did though, as it made sharing this story a really fun experience. You guys are awesome. ♥
Huge, HUGE thank you to bradyyface, who is my biggest cheerleader (and my favorite person this side of the internet). She actually just beta'd the last 1500 words of this on her "ballet" break like half an hour ago, so we've got a pretty efficient system going on. ;) Thanks also to eliselxx, who was with me at the beginning when this monster was a modest little Google Doc titled 'this is a story about santana lopez'. Also, my new friend losdosmos - I'm only mentioning her because I want her to write more Heya smut, ahaha. Cheers, and enjoy the final installment. This whole thing was a blast to write, and getting to share it was a privilege.
(bradyyface said she cried through half of this last part, but I maintain she was just emotional/hormonal, because I'm pretty sure I didn't mean for it to be tearjerky. Maybe she's just sad it's over. ♥)
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9
"The scab that is Will Schuester will face the full wrath of one Sue Sylvester this Saturday afternoon, and you three will be my witnesses."
Kurt looks bleakly at Santana and Brittany.
"Coach, if I may…"
Sue Sylvester turns to glare at Kurt.
"It's just-we were hoping that given our impressive win at nationals, you would be more lenient on us at regionals." Kurt swallows hard. "For Glee," he clarifies unnecessarily.
"I've never used the word 'lenient' in my life, do you know why? Because it reeks of weakness and failure. It's like you couldn't decide if you were going to wear sandals or clogs so you compromised and slipped on a pair of crocs. Revolting."
Kurt falls silent.
"Mark my words: I am going to crush Glee Club. Now get out of my office before I catch bi-curious from your fondue pot of sexual orientations."
All three are quiet as they leave Coach's office, then the school building. Halfway across the parking lot, Brittany and Santana wave goodbye to an inconsolable Kurt. Santana knows that this is supposed to mean more to Kurt, but she can't help but struggle against a deep wave of disappointment. It's not even so much her desire to crush Vocal Adrenaline or prove that she's the best. She knows what coming in last will mean for the future of the club, and Glee has grown on her.
"This sucks," Brittany finally says when they've reached Santana's car.
"Yeah," Santana agrees.
"I don't want Glee to end," Brittany adds quietly.
Santana looks down and scuffs her sneakers. "I know, me neither. But if Coach gets her way, it will."
"This sucks," Brittany repeats.
Santana leans in and kisses Brittany quickly. "Let's not worry about that now, okay?" she asks, leaning in to unlock her car door. "Let Schuester figure it out."
Brittany nods and climbs into Santana's car. Santana rounds the vehicle and does the same, and she drives them home in silence.
--
Santana's mother is sitting in the living room when they enter, and Brittany gravitates to her. Santana solemnly follows behind.
"Buenas tardes, mijas."
"Buenas tardes," Brittany echoes, slumping down onto the couch next to Santana's mother.
The older woman looks back and forth between the two. "What's the matter, girls?"
"Coach Sylvester is one of the judges at show choir regionals. She's out to make sure Glee Club comes in last, so it gets cancelled for next year and Glee's budget is restored to the Cheerios," Santana roughly outlines.
"How can she judge when one of the schools she teaches at is competing?" her mother asks with knit brows.
Santana shrugs. "The Ohio Show Choir Committee or whatever doesn't seem to care."
Her mother looks at the two girls helplessly. "I can file a complaint," she offers.
Santana shakes her head. "No, Mama, it's no use. We just have to suck it up and perform. Hope the other judges aren't swayed by Coach's tricks." She sighs and sits down next to Brittany. "Whatever. I don't care. It's just Glee. It's not going to get me a scholarship to college."
"It's fun though," Brittany says quietly. "I love dancing."
Santana takes Brittany's hand into her own. "You don't need Glee to dance, B."
Brittany looks up. "Yeah, but it wouldn't be the same."
"Listen to me, mijas," Santana's mother cuts in, her words laced with conviction. "You two are going to go out there and have the time of your lives and look stunning doing it, okay? And I'm going to be sitting in the audience cheering you on no matter what happens. Winning isn't everything."
And it's such a motherly thing to say that Santana tenses, instinctively cautious. Brittany gives Santana's hand a reassuring squeeze.
Santana's mother rises from her seat. "I'm going to make you girls some chicken stew," she announces. "A little pick-me-up."
Brittany pulls Santana up and drags her to the kitchen after her mother. The older Lopez busies herself with her stew, and the two girls slide into seats around the kitchen table.
"I found a new job," Santana's mother says. "It's just some clerical work down at the courthouse to pay the bills, but I enrolled in some night classes to get a teaching certification. I want to teach Spanish."
Brittany smiles. "Like Mr. Schuester."
Santana makes a face. "Please, Mama, if you ever start doing that ridiculous clapping thing he does, I'm going to have to disown you."
Her mother looks curiously at them. "Don't mock your teachers, Mija. I'm going to be one."
"I'm sorry, but your students are going to mock you, even if you're the greatest one to walk the state of Ohio." A thought occurs to Santana. "Oh god, Mama, you're not going to teach at McKinley High, are you?"
Her mother laughs. "No, I'm actually not teaching teenagers at all. I'm hoping to teach Spanish to elementary-level students."
"Those midgets are going to destroy your will to live," Santana deadpans.
Her mother tosses Santana a dirty look. "What a lovely thing to say."
"You would be an awesome teacher," Brittany assesses.
The older woman smiles. "Thank you, Brittany. See? Brittany believes in me."
Santana rolls her eyes. "Brittany also believes in unicorns."
Brittany spends the better part of the next hour explaining why there's a distinct possibility that unicorns are in fact real, and even though Santana thinks it's nuts, she lets her, occasionally tossing in an argument just to watch Brittany fluster and counter with renewed urgency. It's adorable, for a lack of better term that doesn't make Santana sound like a Powerpuff Girl. (The blue one reminds Santana of Brittany. Bubbles, or whatever, which she only knows because Brittany had made her watch it once and Santana has an awesome memory. She definitely did not google it or anything.)
And when the chicken stew is ready and Santana's mother serves it to them and Brittany burns her tongue, there's something so familiar and comfortable about the whole thing that for a moment, Santana almost believes in unicorns too.
Just for one split second though; she's not like, a total sucker or anything.
--
Regionals arrives, and even with the nagging feeling that Sue Sylvester is going to go and fuck it all up for them, Santana is excited about performing. She even has a solo this time, which had thrilled Brittany more than anyone else.
They'd gotten to the competition without a nervous breakdown, and now, it becomes a waiting game. The girls and guys separate to get changed into their costumes.
Brittany is working on Santana's hair when Quinn clutches her belly suddenly.
Mercedes touches Quinn's arm. "Quinn, you okay?"
"You're not going to pop her out on stage, are you?" Santana asks. "Because if you start dribbling baby juice down your legs, that will pretty much guarantee that we lose this thing."
Quinn glares at her. "Shut up, Santana. I'm not due for another three weeks. She just kicks a lot."
"An active fetus is a good sign," Rachel pipes up. "My dads said I was quite the kicker before I was born."
Santana turns to Rachel. "And Quinn wants her baby to be just like you because…?"
"Because I don't assuage my own insecurities by picking relentlessly on other people," Rachel fires back.
"And because she's talented," Quinn adds, tossing Santana a dirty look.
Rachel beams, and Santana rolls her eyes. She is so not down with this friendship.
Brittany finishes up Santana's hair, and Santana exchanges places with her to return the favor. Brittany sits patiently, her foot tapping a rhythm against the floor as she hums Any Way You Want It.
As she's pulling on Brittany's headband, Santana leans down next to Brittany's ear. "You're so hot," she whispers.
Everyone in the room turns to stare at her, and damn it, she needs to learn to be more discreet.
"Santana," Rachel acknowledges, "please refrain from distracting Brittany with your verbal flirtations before our performance."
Brittany rotates her head to look at Santana, and she has such a beautiful smile across her face that Santana doesn't even bother to tell Rachel to can it. Instead, she leans down to press a gentle kiss on Brittany's lips.
Brittany laughs. "Are you trying to distract me? Or just annoy Rachel?"
"Little of both," Santana replies, shooting Rachel a smug grin.
Rachel rolls her eyes and returns to applying Tina's makeup.
Santana lifts Brittany's hair to plant a kiss to her bare shoulder. "You do look smoking though," she says affectionately.
Brittany grins. "Oh, I know." She reaches up to tug at Santana's dress strap, pulling her closer. "And you," she whispers, so close that her lips brush Santana's as she speaks.
Santana is legitimately calculating whether they have enough time to sneak away for a quickie when Rachel hovers over them, hands on her hips.
"Santana, go help Tina," she instructs. "I'll finish doing Brittany's hair, since you cannot seem to handle it without having erotic lesbian fantasies."
Santana's first impulse is to smash her fist into Rachel's face, but she holds back, partly because Rachel's singing would be off with a broken nose, but mostly because Brittany is gripping Santana's wrists with a strength Santana's never known her to have.
"Go," Brittany tells her with a grin. "You're driving me crazy. That won't be a problem if we swap. No offense, Rachel."
"None taken," Rachel reassures the blonde.
Santana sighs. "Fine," she resigns, backing away. "Just keep your hands to yourself, Berry."
Santana approaches Tina and slumps into the seat next to her.
Tina smiles, as though offering peace. "Sorry about that."
"Yeah," is all Santana says.
She looks at Tina, at the pink streaks in her dark hair. She doesn't even remember if she's ever picked on the girl, but judging by the way Tina is watching her, half-cautious and half-hesitant, she probably has.
Santana clears her throat. "You want some help with, uh-"
"I'm actually done," Tina replies, "so-"
"Yeah, me too."
"Oh," Tina says.
Santana drums her fingers anxiously against her chair. She doesn't do this. Talk to people, especially weird, shy people obsessed with the occult. She looks over at the others. Quinn is fixing Mercedes's hair, and Rachel is applying blush to Brittany's cheeks. She wonders if she can just sneak out of there and go hang with Puck and the guys.
Tina pulls out a bottle of black nail polish and a manicure kit. "I can do your nails? My mom works in a spa. She's taught me all the tricks."
Santana looks down at Tina's nails, and they actually are rather immaculate. "Yeah, okay, sure," she replies, holding out her hand.
Tina lights up and opens her manicure kit. As Tina works on Santana's nails, they actually manage to strike up a conversation about school, and Glee, and family. Random, irrelevant things; important things. Santana learns that Tina shares her taste in music ("I don't actually listen to creepy death music," Tina reassures her.) and by the time all ten of her nails are painted and flawlessly filed, Santana has a date with Tina and Artie to see a local band together.
Weirdest. Thing. Ever.
Freshman Santana would totally be kicking sophomore Santana's ass right about now. But Tina is good at doing nails and stereotype-shatteringly bad at math and laughs like she genuinely means it, kind of like Brittany does, so Santana can't hate her too much. Or well, at all, it turns out.
Once all the girls are finally dressed and made up, Rachel makes them form a small circle.
"Just remember," Rachel says, "whatever happens-"
Brittany has Santana's hand in a vice grip, so Santana bites back her sarcastic retort.
"-we've come so far," Rachel continues, "and we should be proud of our accomplishments."
Rachel looks around the circle. "Eight months ago, I never would've imagined we'd be here. Well, I was confident we'd make it to regionals, given my obvious talent, but I had no idea the journey would be quite this dramatic. And while some of you-" Rachel looks blatantly at Santana. "-seem to believe we need to be mortal enemies, your camaraderie has meant a lot to me this year, and I hope that regardless what happens to Glee, we'll continue to be friends."
"We will," Brittany says, nudging Rachel with her shoulder, and everyone else nods in agreement.
Torturous speech over, the six of them flock to the main waiting area. All the guys are already there, dressed up and looking good.
With everyone pumped to perform, the wait begins to drag on, especially when Aural Intensity closes with a mash-up dedicated to two of the judges. Still, the group pulls it together and even Santana is in high spirits when they finally take to the stage.
From behind the closed curtains, Santana listens for the sounds of Rachel and Finn's duet as they open their performance. The first words drift across the auditorium, and for all of Rachel's grating qualities, her voice gives Santana the fucking goosebumps.
Finn and Rachel's voices grow closer and closer, and Santana's pulse picks up. When the curtains rise and the sounds of the audience's cheers fill the stage, Santana knows only this moment, this music, and her voice harmonizing with eleven others.
They transition smoothly into their second number, a mash-up. Santana smiles her way through the song, a strange sense of pride coursing through her when Puck steps forward for his solo. She flies around the stage, her body guided by the music, and when Brittany twirls and spins, Sue Sylvester is the last thing on Santana's mind.
They close with Don't Stop Believin', and Santana knows this one means more to the original six than it does to her, but it's a fitting song, one that represents something different for each of them but is still ultimately a message of unity, of hope. Under the bright spotlight, inebriated by the music, even Santana embraces that thought.
Santana steps forward, her heart pounding as adrenaline coursing through her, filling her with the desire to nail her solo and make the most of her moment to shine. She listens for her cue, waits for Puck, then the first notes spill from her lips and she experiences a rush she's never known.
Puck's hand is gentle on her forearm as they spin, and he's looking at her like he knows what she's thinking, why she's smiling. Behind her, ten glowing faces. In front of her, hundreds of show choir enthusiasts, friends, family… including her own. Her mother is there, and Santana doesn't know where exactly, but it doesn't matter. She's there, listening, watching, loving. Even if Santana won't admit it to herself, that's all she's ever really wanted.
For a smile they can share the night; it goes on and on and on…
--
Santana had been totally joking about Quinn popping out her baby on stage, but it turns out she hadn't been far off base.
She's the last one off stage, so she catches Quinn talking to her mother, and what. She almost steps right between them and punches Judy fucking Fabray in the face, but she recalls what Quinn had said when Santana had asked her whether she'd go for a reconciliation, so Santana backs off and keeps her distance, only casting one cautious glance at the older woman.
Santana doesn't wander far though, because as far as she knows, Quinn's mother could be here to punch the baby out of Quinn's belly, and Santana has to be on hand to knock Judy Fabray's fucking teeth out if she tries to pull a stunt like that.
She doesn't catch much of the conversation itself, but when Judy cries, "oh my god," and Quinn turns helplessly to Glee Club with a small pool of water at her feet, everyone jumps up and starts talking at once.
"Shut the fuck up, all of you," Santana yells over the other voices, pleased that the chatter dies down a little.
Puck is already at Quinn's side, trying unsuccessfully to avoid getting baby juice all over his shiny new shoes. Mercedes follows close behind and grabs Quinn's other arm.
"Judy," Santana addresses, "for fuck's sake, go get your car started. Your daughter's about to pop out your grandkid."
Judy Fabray is too shocked to even look mildly offended by Santana's tone. She hesitates one moment before running off. Puck and Mercedes try to help Quinn out, but the blonde is either too shaken or in too much pain to move, because she doesn't budge. Puck looks ready to toss Quinn over his shoulder when Artie rolls up and pats his lap.
"I'll wheel her out."
Tina runs into one of the dressing rooms and comes back with a towel, which she folds over Artie's lap.
"That's not going to help much," Santana points out. "Your pants are going to get soaked, especially if she starts gushing."
"That's okay," Artie says.
"Go ahead, Quinn," Tina urges. "I've ridden him a thousand times."
Tina immediately flushes, but Santana's pretty sure that in the chaos, she's the only one who catches it. Even Puck, preoccupied by his impending fatherhood, lets it go.
Artie rolls closer, and Mercedes helps Quinn sit down on Artie's lap. Immediately, Artie's arms wrap securely around Quinn's body. Puck gets behind Artie's wheelchair and pushes them out of the room. Mercedes and Tina run after them.
Santana turns to the other six. "Okay, we need one person - not me - to stay here to keep an eye on Vocal Adrenaline and show up at the award ceremony in case we don't get back in time."
"Although I would really like to be at the hospital when Quinn delivers," Rachel says, stepping forward, "as team captain, it is my responsibility to stay. Please send Quinn my best wishes."
Santana nods. "Everyone else, follow me. We're going to make it to that hospital even if I have to bust open our bus and drive that monster myself."
Santana leads Brittany, Finn, Kurt, Mike, and Matt out of the backstage area. Vocal Adrenaline is getting set up on stage as they rush past.
"Get out of the fucking way," Santana grunts as she bulldozes past a few spectators wandering the aisles.
There's a small gathering of people near the exit, and it isn't until Santana is a few feet away that she realizes her mother is in the crowd. Upon closer inspection, so are Brittany's parents, Rachel's dads, the Hudson-Hummel pair, and others Santana can only assume are the parents of her other teammates, as well as a few younger siblings, including Brittany's sister.
Her mother catches her arm. "We saw Quinn being rushed out. None of us know our way around this part of Ohio, so we found your bus driver. He agreed to drive all of you to the hospital. He's out back, but hurry."
Relieved that threats of violence and hijackings are not in her immediate future, Santana leans in and lightly pecks her mother's cheek. "Thanks so much, Mama." She runs out, calling over her shoulder, "All of you, boo Vocal Adrenaline for us!"
When they reach the bus, Puck and Tina are helping Artie and Quinn onto the wheelchair ramp. Everyone else - including Quinn's mom - piles in, and the bus driver takes off for the hospital.
Puck lifts Quinn off Artie's lap and helps her to a seat. Under the towel, Artie's pants are soaked through.
Santana grimaces and says, "I told you."
Artie shrugs. "Today, I was a hero. Pants can be changed."
Tina nods and smiles proudly at him, and why it's okay for her boyfriend to have another girl's amniotic fluids all over his boy parts is beyond Santana - because fucking gross - but she leaves that one alone.
Quinn clutches her stomach, and her mother actually calms down long enough to show Quinn some breathing techniques. Mercedes grabs one of Quinn's hands and holds on. Puck hovers in the seat behind them, looking a little unsure, a lot helpless.
Santana slides in next to Puck. "Relax, Puckerman."
Puck doesn't say anything, but his shoulders loosen and he lets out a breath.
The bus races down narrow roads, making sharp turns, but the driver knows what he's doing. Fifteen minutes and about three traffic offenses later, he's pulling the bus up to the emergency room entrance. Puck jumps off the bus first to call for a wheelchair.
Quinn stands without help, but she doesn't look very steady on her feet, so Santana hooks Quinn's arm over her shoulders and grabs Quinn around the back.
"Easy, Fabray," Santana mutters. "Breathe. And clamp it up for a few more minutes."
Santana guides Quinn off the bus and plops her into the wheelchair Puck has propped up by the door. Puck pushes away, and everyone follows in a messy line after them.
As they're turning into the delivery room, Quinn reaches for Mercedes, and Santana thinks that maybe Kurt had been right about them after all. If he reads people as well as he reads beauty product labels, well… Santana's got to give him credit for that.
Quinn, her mother, Puck and Mercedes disappear behind a closed door, and the rest of them are ushered into a waiting room nearby.
If the wait for their turn at regionals had been excruciating, Santana doesn't even know what properly describes this.
--
Mercedes comes out of the delivery room first, looking tired but absolutely glowing.
"Ten fingers, ten toes; seven pounds, three ounces," she announces with all the pride of an aunt, and Santana thinks it actually really suits her.
Excited chatter breaks out among the group. Brittany's hand is tight around Santana's, and the blonde is grinning from ear to ear.
"When can we see her?" Tina asks.
"They're cleaning Quinn up now," Mercedes replies, pointing a thumb over her shoulder. "As soon as they move them out of the delivery room, y'all can go and see her and the baby. Gorgeous little thing."
Puck walks out a few minutes later with his hands in his pockets, some residue shock still evident across his features. Santana approaches him and nudges his side.
"Hey, papa," she teases lightly.
Puck just kind of smiles at her.
Santana pats him on the shoulder. "You handling everything okay?"
Puck's head tilts in a short nod. "Yeah," he breathes. "That was-yeah."
Santana smirks. "The babymaker doesn't look so nice mid-birth, does it?"
Puck chuckles. "You're sick, Lopez."
Santana laughs, and before she can process what she's doing, she has her arms wrapped gently around Puck. She thinks of what he's been through this year, how he's changed, and the way he'd looked with her up on stage, a hint of maturity fleshing out his features. She even finds herself tearing up a little at the thought, but she quickly composes herself. Just adrenaline and hormones.
Puck is grinning at her when they pull apart. "You know, Santana, you're really kind of a sap."
Santana punches him on the shoulder in response.
--
As soon as they get the okay, all ten of them make their way to Quinn's hospital room door. It's open, and Quinn is lying down, hair tossed across her pillow. Her mother is standing at her bedside.
Quinn smiles when she notices the commotion at the door. "Hey," she says softly.
Brittany enters first and skips to Quinn's side. "Hi," she greets affectionately, reaching to brush a few strands of Quinn's hair out of her face.
Everyone else files into the room and spaces themselves around the perimeter of the bed. Quinn's mother moves aside to make room. Santana squeezes in between Brittany and Finn and slips her hand around Quinn's clammy one.
"How do you feel?" Santana asks softly.
"Exhausted," Quinn replies with a dry laugh, "and sore. So sore."
A flurry of awkward chuckles pass between the guys, and Quinn rolls her eyes.
"Hey, where's Rachel?" she asks suddenly, looking from face to face.
Santana smirks. "Don't tell me you didn't notice how the ride over lacked any amount of neurosis."
"I was a little busy being in labor, Santana," Quinn fires back, but there's a faint smile across her lips.
"Someone had to stay behind," Kurt finally explains. "Rachel volunteered."
"She really wanted to be here though," Brittany adds.
Quinn hums in acknowledgement. "Is she mad that I wrestled everyone's attention from our performance?"
"Hey, no, of course not," Finn pipes up, his voice coming out a little louder than he'd probably intended. Everyone turns to look at him, and he shrinks slightly under the scrutiny. "We're all just glad you and the baby are healthy and safe and stuff."
Brittany looks around the room with legitimate concern etched across her features. "Where's the baby?"
Quinn smiles. "She's in the nursery, Britt."
"Can we go see her?" Mike asks.
"Yeah, sure." Quinn turns to the foot of the bed. "Mercedes, could you-"
Mercedes nods. "Come on, you guys," she says, signaling for everyone to follow her.
With quick 'be right back's and 'see you later's, the group scatters until only Brittany and Santana remain.
Brittany tugs at Santana's arm, but Santana stays put, her hand still holding Quinn's.
Brittany tilts her head in confusion. "Aren't you coming?"
"Yeah, in a few," Santana replies. "Go ahead, Britt. I'll catch up with you guys."
"Okay," Brittany replies, pressing a quick kiss to Santana's shoulder before running after the rest of the group.
Quinn appears a little confused, but she turns to her mother and says, "Mom, could you give us a sec?"
Judy Fabray looks hesitantly between the two girls but finally leaves the room without a word.
Quinn pushes herself up and then groans and leans back down. "God damn, I should've had a c-section."
Santana chuckles. "Sorry."
Quinn smiles. "It's not too bad."
"No, I-I'm sorry," Santana stammers, her hand tightening around Quinn's.
Quinn's smile fades. "Santana?"
"You were right," Santana says quietly, hating the way her voice sounds so small.
"About what?"
"Everything. Me." She looks up. "I was ecstatic when I found out about your pregnancy. Over the fucking moon, because it meant I'd finally get a shot at head cheerleader." She winces at her own words. "Your life was falling apart and instead of helping you through it, I turned my back on you and took Brittany with me. Every decision I made, everything I said or did, it was all for me. N-not even for Brittany. God, I couldn't even be good for Brittany."
"Santana…"
"We were friends," Santana cuts in, suddenly fighting tears. "Last year, I mean. The three of us were inseparable. Brittany loved you, and I-I chose to see the worst in you. In everyone. Maybe I just envied you; I don't even know, but you didn't deserve all the shit I gave you." She flushes. "I'm so sorry, Q," she finishes softly, knowing her words don't take back the hurt but also knowing that it's a start.
"San." Quinn sighs and stares up at the ceiling. "If it'd been the other way around, you know I would've done the same thing to you. That was just who we were back then."
"Maybe, but it wasn't the other way around. It was this." She runs her fingertips down Quinn's forearm. "It wasn't okay."
"Spilt milk, and all that," Quinn dismisses gently. "You know I've forgiven you."
Santana nods, her heart tender. "Are you going back to live with your mom?" she asks after a moment.
Quinn tenses. "No, I'm staying with Mercedes and her family for a little while longer, at least until my mom sorts out her divorce. I refuse to be caught in the middle of that."
"Did you tell her?"
"Yeah," Quinn sighs. "She didn't understand, and I didn't expect her to."
Santana clutches Quinn's hand protectively. "If you need someone to kick some sense into her-"
Quinn chuckles. "I could always count on you for bloodshed. Hopefully though, it won't be necessary. I do miss her. I just can't go back to that house right now."
"I know," Santana says with a small nod. "You take your time. And if Mercedes's parents get sick of you, my mom's back now, so…"
Quinn smiles appreciatively. "Thank you."
"Yeah," Santana breathes. She glances briefly at the doorway and decides, "I'll stay with you until they get back, okay?"
Quinn nods. "Hey," she says, reaching to touch Santana's arm. "I'm getting back on that cheerleading squad next year, you know. I'm coming after your captaincy."
Santana only grins. "Bring it, Fabray. Bring it."
--
Brittany takes Santana to see Quinn's baby after everyone has returned from their first venture to the nursery.
"That one," Brittany says, pointing to a tiny little thing sleeping peacefully in her tiny little crib.
Santana can't help but smile. She can already see the faintest traces of Quinn's nose, Puck's chin.
Brittany nudges Santana. "You think Quinn's gonna keep her?"
"No," Santana answer softly, as though afraid of waking the baby. "And I think that's the right decision. For both of them, and Puck."
"Can we keep her?"
Santana laughs. "You want to change her dirty diapers?"
Brittany smiles and turns back to the nursery, but she doesn't say anything. Santana slips her hand into Brittany's and squeezes.
"Having a baby is scary," Brittany murmurs.
Santana watches Quinn's baby for a moment. "It totally is."
"I want some though," Brittany says thoughtfully. "I mean, eventually, like when I'm older."
"How many?" Santana asks, keeping her eyes on the sleeping baby.
"At least one or two. Maybe more." Brittany turns to Santana. "What about you?"
Santana shrugs. "Never really thought about it," she replies, even though her answer before today has always been 'none'. She frowns. "You do know that we can't have kids without like, help, right?"
"Yeah," Brittany nods, "but Rachel's dads did it." She's quiet for a moment, then, "I don't need kids, Santana."
"But you want them," Santana states quietly.
Brittany shrugs. "I just want you."
"I want to give you everything you want, Britt," Santana says, finally rotating to face Brittany.
"I know," Brittany replies, smoothing a hand over the front of Santana's dress. "It's really far away, San. I don't even know what I'm going to eat for supper tonight."
Santana sighs. "I like knowing how things are going to work out. Plans; I like plans."
Brittany tugs gently at Santana's body, pulling her closer. "Nobody knows what's going to happen tomorrow," she says gently. As an afterthought, she adds, "Unless you're Professor Trelawney, but you keep telling me Hogwarts isn't real, so."
Santana laughs. "Because it isn't."
Brittany smiles at her. "The last time we had this argument…"
A flush creeps up Santana's neck. "We're not having make-up sex in the middle of the hospital," she preempts, keeping her voice low.
Brittany shrugs playfully, as though saying your loss, and Santana curses and tries to keep it in her pants. Or under her dress. Whatever. They both turn to watch Quinn's baby in silence for a few more minutes. Brittany coos when the tiny thing fusses momentarily, her little fist brushing the side of her head.
"It's not that I don't want kids," Santana blurts out. "I just-with my mom and everything…"
"Santana, stop," Brittany instructs, cutting her off. Her eyes soften. "I love you, and I want to keep loving you and kissing you and having really hot sex with you." She grins coyly. "Everything else is optional."
Santana leans in and kisses Brittany, trying desperately to show everything she does not have the words to verbalize. Everything about how something flickers inside her at the idea of tiny little blond-haired blue-eyed toddlers running around. Everything about how she's too young to know, too jaded to believe, too terrified of everything she feels all the time. Everything Brittany probably already knows and just accepts - no, embraces - unconditionally.
Brittany's hand slides up to Santana's shoulder, assuredly brushing past hair to reach the nape of Santana's neck. A low groan escapes Santana's throat, and she deepens the kiss, her hands coming to rest against the small of Brittany's back and pulling her in, their dresses pressing together. Brittany whimpers, her hand tightening against the back of Santana's neck, and Santana pulls away slightly.
"You have my heart," Santana tells her, the words streaming out like she's never known any other truth. "You are my heart. My whole fucking heart."
A delighted smile spreads across Brittany's face, and it's the most beautiful thing Santana has ever seen. She laughs and pulls the blonde into her arms, just holding her close because she can, right there in the middle of the neonatal ward, running high on adrenaline and emotions and the surest sense of security.
A few nurses are staring, and a woman holding a young child has her hand pressed firmly against the little girl's eyes, shielding her. But Santana doesn't care about the looks or the disapproval. Fuck everyone who thinks this is wrong when she's the only one who knows how she feels right now, in this instant, wrapped up in Brittany.
--
Back in Quinn's hospital room, excited and nervous chatter has broken out. In the time that Brittany and Santana had spent at the nursery, the rest of the group had gotten a call from Rachel asking how everything had gone. In return, she'd informed them that Vocal Adrenaline has wrapped up their performance, and that the judges are in deliberation.
"I need to get back," Finn says, tucking his hands into his pockets. "I owe Rachel one for flaking out on photo day. I don't want her to be up there by herself."
"Go ahead," Quinn urges, looking around the room as she sits herself up. "Not just you, Finn. All of you should join Rachel on stage for the ceremony. This means a lot to her."
Everyone in the room begins to file out. Mike and Matt each give Quinn a gentle pat on the arm before leaving. Finn smiles awkwardly at Quinn and follows the two football players out. Artie, with a fresh pair of pants on, wheels up to Quinn's bedside with Tina directly behind him.
"Thanks, Artie," Quinn says with a faint smile. "I'm never going to forget what you did for me."
Artie beams. "Anytime, Quinn," he replies.
Santana wonders if maybe she'd underestimated just how much being a hero means to the wheelchair-bound boy.
Tina smiles brightly at Quinn and wheels Artie out. Mercedes and Kurt approach the bed.
"You gonna be okay, Quinn? We could stay around if you want." Mercedes looks up at Kurt, who nods.
Quinn shakes her head. "Go stand on that stage, Mercedes. You too, Kurt."
Mercedes and Kurt draw Quinn into an embrace, their heads pressed to either side of Quinn's face, and Santana has never craved siblings quite like she does right then. Damn, she's going soft, but hell, with the emotional rollercoaster that has been the past few weeks, she'll take it.
Once Mercedes and Kurt slip away arm-in-arm, Brittany slides to Quinn's side and leans in to brush a kiss to Quinn's cheek. "She's gorgeous, Quinn."
Santana settles for giving Quinn's hand a tight squeeze and Puck's shoulder a fistful of knuckle before leaving the room with Brittany and following the rest of Glee Club toward the exit. A moment later, Puck catches up to them.
Santana glances at him. "Not staying behind?"
Puck shrugs. "She wants us to be there with Rachel."
Their bus driver is waiting dutifully for them in the parking lot. The group piles on. Santana is the last one to board, and when no one is looking, she leans down next to the driver.
"I know nobody's in labor, but if you could get us back as quickly as you got us here, we'd all really appreciate it."
She wants to say she's not asking for Rachel, but well, the driver has no clue who that is, and also, she kind of is asking for Rachel.
Their bus driver nods. "Take a seat and hang on."
The bus jerks out of the hospital parking lot, and Santana quickly seats herself to avoid being tossed around. She finds herself next to Puck, who still looks like he's carrying the weight of the world. Maybe he is. Or maybe it's only the weight of his world, but for all his broad shoulders and muscular arms, he's still sixteen. Santana knows what that's like, to feel inadequately young.
Santana is staring straight ahead when she says quietly, "I'm here, you know."
Without looking at her, Puck briefly touches Santana's wrist.
--
The stage is bright. Brighter than Santana remembers from their performance. Her heart is pounding again, like it knows something she doesn't. Like it knows that this is important to her, that she wants this. To win, and not only for the sake of winning. Not just to see Jesse St. James walk out in shame. Not just for the trophy or the applause or even the personal satisfaction.
She wants to win for her teammates. Someone would have to beat the admission out of her, but there it is.
Brittany's hand is clasped firmly in Santana's, and Santana can feel the nervous energy flowing through the blonde. She tries to be strong for both of them, for all eleven of them and Quinn and even Mr. Schuester, but Santana knows that every one of them is shouldering their own weight, different but still heavy.
The judges file onto the stage, and Santana tries not to look at Coach Sylvester because she's always been good at reading Coach's sneers and she doesn't want to know a moment too soon.
Aural Intensity takes runner up. Santana tries not to react. Brittany's hand tightens, and Santana is squeezing back.
She hasn't seen Vocal Adrenaline's performance, nor had the opportunity to ask Rachel. She doesn't know if they've done enough. She feels like maybe they have.
But two words - the wrong ones - leave Sue Sylvester's lips, and it's all over. Santana's heart drops to her stomach as she tries to compose herself, the words it's over it's over it's over ringing again and again in her head. She hangs onto Brittany and tries not to feel anything.
Rachel is standing directly in front of them, and Brittany's other hand slides to Rachel's shoulder. Brittany's head falls against Santana's collar, and Santana's next motion is robotic, but not insincere: She pats Rachel's arm and keeps her hand there.
--
Puck, Mercedes, and Mercedes's parents rush off to the hospital immediately after the conclusion of the ceremony.
By the time the other members of New Directions catch up with their families, the auditorium has mostly cleared out. Nobody has said much at all since receiving the bad news, and the tiny trophy still clutched in Mr. Schue's hand mostly feels like a punch to the gut.
Santana's mother approaches and pulls Santana into her arms.
"Estoy muy orgullosa de ti," she murmurs.
"We lost," Santana cannot help but point out.
"Being proud of you has nothing to do with that," is all her mother says, and Santana thinks that she could live with that.
She looks around the room and sees Brittany with her family, Rachel with her dads, Kurt and Finn huddled together with their parents. Tina and Artie and Mike and Matt and their loved ones. She tightens her grip around her mother.
"Gracias, Mama," she says softly.
Her mother just holds her. They're going to be okay, Santana decides. The two of them are going to be just fine.
A moment later, something small but strong runs into Santana's side. It's Brittany's sister.
Santana pulls away from her mother to smile at the little girl. Brittany sidles up to Santana, her arms slipping easily around Santana's midsection, and the two just hold each other, drawing comfort, because Glee is over and neither is supposed to be devastated but both are.
And when Brittany presses her lips lightly against Santana's, Santana's mother still looks away, but she smiles faintly at them when the kiss is over, and Santana thinks that maybe there's time for progress.
Santana drifts to Brittany's mother, and she hesitates only one moment before she's drawing Brittany's mother in, tightening her arms around the older woman.
"Thank you," Santana murmurs, squeezing her eyes shut. "Thank you for everything you've done, for loving me when I didn't know how to love anyone back."
And Brittany's mother, Santana knows, is not the only person for which those words are true.
--
They collectively decide to return to the hospital. All nine of them who aren't there yet, and Mr. Schue. Their bus driver? Is a fucking godsend.
As the bus is chugging along, at a much more leisurely pace than the two previous rides, Rachel calls Quinn to inform her of their loss, even though she knows Puck and Mercedes are already there. It's her responsibility as captain, she explains to the rest of them. It feels like nothing more than pure masochism to Santana, but maybe Rachel really does carry the weight of the team on her shoulders.
With her rhinestone-encrusted phone against her ear, Rachel states the news matter-of-fact, like it doesn't hurt, like it's not destroying her inside. Santana has to admire that, even if it is Rachel Obnoxiousface Berry.
Santana turns away, trying to focus on something else. The bus ride is long and feels unbearably empty. She grabs Brittany's hand and doesn't let go.
--
At the hospital, the group heads toward Quinn's room again, solemnly this time. Quinn's mother is standing tensely with Mercedes's parents outside the doorway, making what sounds to Santana like really uncomfortable small talk. Santana can't help but wish every ounce of discomfort on the stupid bitch.
Mercedes greets them at the door. "Quinn and Puck are at the nursery," she explains before anyone can ask. "Figured they could use a little privacy."
Mr. Schuester joins the adults in conversation, and everyone else settles down to wait for Quinn and Puck's return. They actually end up being gone an absurdly long amount of time, considering Quinn doesn't even want to keep this baby, but Santana maintains her cool and stays patient.
As Santana is contemplating whether to go and check up on them, Quinn and Puck appear around the corner and approach the four adults.
Quinn turns to Mercedes's mother instead of her own. "We found Beth an adoptive mother."
"Who?" Quinn's mother asks, but Quinn ignores her.
Mercedes's mother looks toward the direction of the nursery. "Just now?"
Quinn nods. "She's willing to take her right away."
"Who is it?" Mr. Schue asks, looking between Quinn and Puck uncertainly. "Do we-do we get to meet her?"
"You actually already have," Quinn replies, suddenly turning to glance uneasily at Rachel.
Rachel steps forward. "Quinn?"
"I-Rach, Shelby Corcoran wants to adopt Beth."
Rachel's immediate reaction is unreadable. Her mouth opens, but nothing comes out. She closes it again.
Finn steps toward her and reaches out an arm, but it hovers awkwardly around her shoulder.
"I just need a moment," Rachel says evenly before turning to leave.
Finn looks around uncomfortably at the others before chasing after her.
Santana looks only at Quinn and Puck, reads the conflict across their features, and her heart hurts for the two of them. The worst part is that she knows she is completely powerless to fix this. She takes half a step forward, unsure, but before she can say anything, the adults are sweeping Quinn and Puck away, back to the nursery, back to Beth and Corcoran and the Big Damn Mess, and Santana has to swallow against the lump in her throat. The terrified glance Puck tosses her before he leaves etches into her memory.
As soon as they disappear behind a corner, nervous chatter breaks out among the group, but all Santana can do is hold Brittany's hand and wait.
--
The adoption goes through - or at least, the preliminary stuff gets checked out - and Rachel and Finn are back, and it's been a long fucking day. It's dark out, and most of them have fielded phone calls from worried parents, but all of them stick it out for Quinn and Puck.
Santana doesn't even have the energy to complain about how much Shelby Corcoran is a total bitch, because really, what's the point? Salting those wounds isn't going to help anyone, and Quinn and Puck just look so damn drained. Only time will tell, anyway, and if she's learned anything from her mother, from Quinn, from the stupid club she already misses, it's that people can change. Maybe Shelby Corcoran, too.
Doesn't make the situation any less fucked up, but it's worth something, and sometimes, that's all anyone's really got.
--
It's pitch black outside by the time they load up the bus one last time. There's sadness in the air, but there's also some relief, a little pride, and the faintest hint of hope.
Brittany is still holding Santana's hand, but Santana looks briefly at Puck sitting alone at the back and Brittany gets it. The blonde presses a kiss to Santana's lips before releasing her hand and slipping into a seat next to Mike. Santana carefully makes her way over, passing Quinn with her head against Mercedes's shoulder, Rachel and Finn with hands clasped together, Tina and Artie sitting quietly.
Santana slides in beside Puck. He looks up briefly but doesn't say anything. She doesn't either for a long time.
It's not until the bus is pulling into Lima and half its occupants are asleep that Santana finally speaks.
"I got your back."
A flicker of recognition. "I know."
--
Glee Club is over and they sing to Mr. Schue and she cries. She'd feel like a total loser except they all cry, even Puck when nobody's looking, but Santana doesn't think that one's completely about Glee.
Brittany kisses her quietly that night and they make love - she starts calling it that at Brittany's insistence, but it kind of really feels like that sometimes, so she figures as long as she doesn't start using that term around Puck once he's recovered enough to crack sex jokes again, she's solid.
--
It's been a week and a half since losing regionals, and Mr. Schue and Puck - fucking Puck - are sitting there singing Over The Rainbow because Glee Club - fucking Glee Club - is back for another year, and even the ugly squeal Rachel lets out isn't enough to kill Santana's buzz.
Brittany is so excited after the performance that she climbs onto Santana's lap and begins stroking Santana's thigh, which grosses out Rachel and Kurt (the first time they agree about anything), so that's pretty cool, too.
Mr. Schue leaves first with his ukulele, and the rest of the group begins exchanging wishes of a great summer and promises to hang out.
Mercedes pulls Santana into a hug, apparently deciding that being BFFs with the same person automatically overrides any previous nasty confrontations the two may have had. Santana can deal with that.
Matt hugs her too, which should be weird because they're not doing it anymore and Matt's never been particularly affectionate otherwise, but he's all right.
Finn just smiles crookedly at her and claps his hand against her shoulder. The frightened look he gets immediately after tells her he seems to regret the decision, but before he can stammer out an apology, Santana slaps him back, and he smiles again.
Kurt readjusts Santana's Cheerios uniform, which should piss her off but doesn't. He hugs her, too.
Tina and Artie come as a pair, and Tina asks if they're still on for next week. Santana asks if she can bring Brittany. She asks. So like, that's pretty considerate of her. Of course they say yes and act like it's some big deal double date thing, but whatever. It's just dinner and a show. With Brittany, who she's dating, and Tina and Artie, who are dating each other. …Shit.
Mike shakes her hand because he's weird like that, then leans closer and warns her not to break Brittany's heart. ("Mind your own business, Chang," she says, but what she means is, I'd kill myself first.)
Rachel nods courteously at her and applauds her on her leadership during Quinn's labor, of all the fucking things.
"I killed that solo though," Santana cannot help but point out. "Knew you weren't the only one who could do it, Berry."
"While your voice is indeed-"
"Yeah, shut up."
The room is thinning out now, and Puck approaches with a cocky little grin.
"Hey, so, proposition."
"Britt and I are not having a threesome with you."
"Damn, you're good."
Santana smiles. "Someone's in a great mood."
Puck mirrors her smile, but a hint of sadness lingers behind his eyes. "Beth's adoption papers went through this morning."
Santana softens. "You okay?"
"Yeah," he nods. "I just-Corcoran said we could visit sometimes if we wanted. Quinn didn't really look like she wanted to though."
"You'd go alone?"
"I don't know. That'd be so weird. And fuck, Corcoran's kind of a milf."
Santana rolls her eyes but doesn't comment. "I could tag along if…" She trails off, uncertain. "And Britt. She loves that kid already."
"She loves everything," he points out, then punches Santana on the shoulder, as affectionately as he knows how. "Thanks," he mumbles.
Quinn sidles up to them. "What're you guys talking about?"
Before either of them has to pull out an awkward excuse, Brittany tackles Quinn with a monster hug, nearly knocking her over.
"Jeez, Britt," Quinn mutters, but she's smiling and hugging Brittany back.
Santana looks at them, at her friends - her best friends, the three of them - and she thinks that maybe, it's gonna be a great summer.
--
Santana rewrites her three-point plan.
She's been rewriting it in her head over the past year, but well, she's never actually etched her plan to paper before, so maybe all of this is just some stupid metaphor meant to confuse her.
Anyway, her plan.
One: Stay on the Cheerios. Because yeah, high school currency still counts for something, and it keeps Azimio and Karofsky's dirty paws off them. She's already looking forward to next year's nationals and taking Brittany against the wall again. Or, you know, whatever surface happens to be available. She's not picky. (Don't hate Quinn if she wrestles back captaincy, she scribbles into the margins, but do wrestle that motherfucker back.)
Two: The high school chain of command is still a precious thing. Like, she's not going to suddenly be Rachel Berry's best friend just because she's not as awful as most people make her out to be (she's still pretty awful, but you know, she has her redeeming moments - not many, but yeah, whatever). She frowns and scratches out the whole thing, replacing it with: Find the optimal shit-shoveling to shit-dumping ratio, and try to cut Glee Club some slack wherever possible.
Three: Brittany.
She rearranges the numbering so Brittany's on top (she chuckles a little at that, just because for all of Santana's aggression, Brittany actually does spend most of her time being on top, not that anyone has to know that).
Santana folds up the sheet of paper and tucks it carefully inside a tiny compartment in her wallet, intending to carry it around with her. Lame, yeah, but whatever.
The sound of Brittany's laughter drifts up the stairs and through her open bedroom door, and Santana smiles. She rushes downstairs and finds Brittany and her sister near the entrance, doubled over with laughter. Behind them, Brittany's mom is flushed pink and hiding her eyes in embarrassment. Santana's own mother stands beside them, her eyes lit up, like she's never known any other moment before this one.
Santana doesn't ask; she doesn't have to. She just laughs along.
fin.
Liked the fic? Check out the soundtrack!
Author: zerodetorres
Characters: Brittany/Santana, Quinn, Puck
Rating: NC-17
Length: 8,688 (of ~58k)
Timeline: Season 1
Summary: Santana Lopez has a plan. A three-point plan. A really fucking efficient three-point plan that's going to get her the hell out of Ohio. This is her story.
Notes: Time for some girl talk, Man-Hands. Ahaha, just kidding. Time for a minor sap moment though. Thanks so much to everyone who has found enjoyment in this fic, even the ones who are too shy to speak up. ;) Big thank you to those who did though, as it made sharing this story a really fun experience. You guys are awesome. ♥
Huge, HUGE thank you to bradyyface, who is my biggest cheerleader (and my favorite person this side of the internet). She actually just beta'd the last 1500 words of this on her "ballet" break like half an hour ago, so we've got a pretty efficient system going on. ;) Thanks also to eliselxx, who was with me at the beginning when this monster was a modest little Google Doc titled 'this is a story about santana lopez'. Also, my new friend losdosmos - I'm only mentioning her because I want her to write more Heya smut, ahaha. Cheers, and enjoy the final installment. This whole thing was a blast to write, and getting to share it was a privilege.
(bradyyface said she cried through half of this last part, but I maintain she was just emotional/hormonal, because I'm pretty sure I didn't mean for it to be tearjerky. Maybe she's just sad it's over. ♥)
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9
"The scab that is Will Schuester will face the full wrath of one Sue Sylvester this Saturday afternoon, and you three will be my witnesses."
Kurt looks bleakly at Santana and Brittany.
"Coach, if I may…"
Sue Sylvester turns to glare at Kurt.
"It's just-we were hoping that given our impressive win at nationals, you would be more lenient on us at regionals." Kurt swallows hard. "For Glee," he clarifies unnecessarily.
"I've never used the word 'lenient' in my life, do you know why? Because it reeks of weakness and failure. It's like you couldn't decide if you were going to wear sandals or clogs so you compromised and slipped on a pair of crocs. Revolting."
Kurt falls silent.
"Mark my words: I am going to crush Glee Club. Now get out of my office before I catch bi-curious from your fondue pot of sexual orientations."
All three are quiet as they leave Coach's office, then the school building. Halfway across the parking lot, Brittany and Santana wave goodbye to an inconsolable Kurt. Santana knows that this is supposed to mean more to Kurt, but she can't help but struggle against a deep wave of disappointment. It's not even so much her desire to crush Vocal Adrenaline or prove that she's the best. She knows what coming in last will mean for the future of the club, and Glee has grown on her.
"This sucks," Brittany finally says when they've reached Santana's car.
"Yeah," Santana agrees.
"I don't want Glee to end," Brittany adds quietly.
Santana looks down and scuffs her sneakers. "I know, me neither. But if Coach gets her way, it will."
"This sucks," Brittany repeats.
Santana leans in and kisses Brittany quickly. "Let's not worry about that now, okay?" she asks, leaning in to unlock her car door. "Let Schuester figure it out."
Brittany nods and climbs into Santana's car. Santana rounds the vehicle and does the same, and she drives them home in silence.
--
Santana's mother is sitting in the living room when they enter, and Brittany gravitates to her. Santana solemnly follows behind.
"Buenas tardes, mijas."
"Buenas tardes," Brittany echoes, slumping down onto the couch next to Santana's mother.
The older woman looks back and forth between the two. "What's the matter, girls?"
"Coach Sylvester is one of the judges at show choir regionals. She's out to make sure Glee Club comes in last, so it gets cancelled for next year and Glee's budget is restored to the Cheerios," Santana roughly outlines.
"How can she judge when one of the schools she teaches at is competing?" her mother asks with knit brows.
Santana shrugs. "The Ohio Show Choir Committee or whatever doesn't seem to care."
Her mother looks at the two girls helplessly. "I can file a complaint," she offers.
Santana shakes her head. "No, Mama, it's no use. We just have to suck it up and perform. Hope the other judges aren't swayed by Coach's tricks." She sighs and sits down next to Brittany. "Whatever. I don't care. It's just Glee. It's not going to get me a scholarship to college."
"It's fun though," Brittany says quietly. "I love dancing."
Santana takes Brittany's hand into her own. "You don't need Glee to dance, B."
Brittany looks up. "Yeah, but it wouldn't be the same."
"Listen to me, mijas," Santana's mother cuts in, her words laced with conviction. "You two are going to go out there and have the time of your lives and look stunning doing it, okay? And I'm going to be sitting in the audience cheering you on no matter what happens. Winning isn't everything."
And it's such a motherly thing to say that Santana tenses, instinctively cautious. Brittany gives Santana's hand a reassuring squeeze.
Santana's mother rises from her seat. "I'm going to make you girls some chicken stew," she announces. "A little pick-me-up."
Brittany pulls Santana up and drags her to the kitchen after her mother. The older Lopez busies herself with her stew, and the two girls slide into seats around the kitchen table.
"I found a new job," Santana's mother says. "It's just some clerical work down at the courthouse to pay the bills, but I enrolled in some night classes to get a teaching certification. I want to teach Spanish."
Brittany smiles. "Like Mr. Schuester."
Santana makes a face. "Please, Mama, if you ever start doing that ridiculous clapping thing he does, I'm going to have to disown you."
Her mother looks curiously at them. "Don't mock your teachers, Mija. I'm going to be one."
"I'm sorry, but your students are going to mock you, even if you're the greatest one to walk the state of Ohio." A thought occurs to Santana. "Oh god, Mama, you're not going to teach at McKinley High, are you?"
Her mother laughs. "No, I'm actually not teaching teenagers at all. I'm hoping to teach Spanish to elementary-level students."
"Those midgets are going to destroy your will to live," Santana deadpans.
Her mother tosses Santana a dirty look. "What a lovely thing to say."
"You would be an awesome teacher," Brittany assesses.
The older woman smiles. "Thank you, Brittany. See? Brittany believes in me."
Santana rolls her eyes. "Brittany also believes in unicorns."
Brittany spends the better part of the next hour explaining why there's a distinct possibility that unicorns are in fact real, and even though Santana thinks it's nuts, she lets her, occasionally tossing in an argument just to watch Brittany fluster and counter with renewed urgency. It's adorable, for a lack of better term that doesn't make Santana sound like a Powerpuff Girl. (The blue one reminds Santana of Brittany. Bubbles, or whatever, which she only knows because Brittany had made her watch it once and Santana has an awesome memory. She definitely did not google it or anything.)
And when the chicken stew is ready and Santana's mother serves it to them and Brittany burns her tongue, there's something so familiar and comfortable about the whole thing that for a moment, Santana almost believes in unicorns too.
Just for one split second though; she's not like, a total sucker or anything.
--
Regionals arrives, and even with the nagging feeling that Sue Sylvester is going to go and fuck it all up for them, Santana is excited about performing. She even has a solo this time, which had thrilled Brittany more than anyone else.
They'd gotten to the competition without a nervous breakdown, and now, it becomes a waiting game. The girls and guys separate to get changed into their costumes.
Brittany is working on Santana's hair when Quinn clutches her belly suddenly.
Mercedes touches Quinn's arm. "Quinn, you okay?"
"You're not going to pop her out on stage, are you?" Santana asks. "Because if you start dribbling baby juice down your legs, that will pretty much guarantee that we lose this thing."
Quinn glares at her. "Shut up, Santana. I'm not due for another three weeks. She just kicks a lot."
"An active fetus is a good sign," Rachel pipes up. "My dads said I was quite the kicker before I was born."
Santana turns to Rachel. "And Quinn wants her baby to be just like you because…?"
"Because I don't assuage my own insecurities by picking relentlessly on other people," Rachel fires back.
"And because she's talented," Quinn adds, tossing Santana a dirty look.
Rachel beams, and Santana rolls her eyes. She is so not down with this friendship.
Brittany finishes up Santana's hair, and Santana exchanges places with her to return the favor. Brittany sits patiently, her foot tapping a rhythm against the floor as she hums Any Way You Want It.
As she's pulling on Brittany's headband, Santana leans down next to Brittany's ear. "You're so hot," she whispers.
Everyone in the room turns to stare at her, and damn it, she needs to learn to be more discreet.
"Santana," Rachel acknowledges, "please refrain from distracting Brittany with your verbal flirtations before our performance."
Brittany rotates her head to look at Santana, and she has such a beautiful smile across her face that Santana doesn't even bother to tell Rachel to can it. Instead, she leans down to press a gentle kiss on Brittany's lips.
Brittany laughs. "Are you trying to distract me? Or just annoy Rachel?"
"Little of both," Santana replies, shooting Rachel a smug grin.
Rachel rolls her eyes and returns to applying Tina's makeup.
Santana lifts Brittany's hair to plant a kiss to her bare shoulder. "You do look smoking though," she says affectionately.
Brittany grins. "Oh, I know." She reaches up to tug at Santana's dress strap, pulling her closer. "And you," she whispers, so close that her lips brush Santana's as she speaks.
Santana is legitimately calculating whether they have enough time to sneak away for a quickie when Rachel hovers over them, hands on her hips.
"Santana, go help Tina," she instructs. "I'll finish doing Brittany's hair, since you cannot seem to handle it without having erotic lesbian fantasies."
Santana's first impulse is to smash her fist into Rachel's face, but she holds back, partly because Rachel's singing would be off with a broken nose, but mostly because Brittany is gripping Santana's wrists with a strength Santana's never known her to have.
"Go," Brittany tells her with a grin. "You're driving me crazy. That won't be a problem if we swap. No offense, Rachel."
"None taken," Rachel reassures the blonde.
Santana sighs. "Fine," she resigns, backing away. "Just keep your hands to yourself, Berry."
Santana approaches Tina and slumps into the seat next to her.
Tina smiles, as though offering peace. "Sorry about that."
"Yeah," is all Santana says.
She looks at Tina, at the pink streaks in her dark hair. She doesn't even remember if she's ever picked on the girl, but judging by the way Tina is watching her, half-cautious and half-hesitant, she probably has.
Santana clears her throat. "You want some help with, uh-"
"I'm actually done," Tina replies, "so-"
"Yeah, me too."
"Oh," Tina says.
Santana drums her fingers anxiously against her chair. She doesn't do this. Talk to people, especially weird, shy people obsessed with the occult. She looks over at the others. Quinn is fixing Mercedes's hair, and Rachel is applying blush to Brittany's cheeks. She wonders if she can just sneak out of there and go hang with Puck and the guys.
Tina pulls out a bottle of black nail polish and a manicure kit. "I can do your nails? My mom works in a spa. She's taught me all the tricks."
Santana looks down at Tina's nails, and they actually are rather immaculate. "Yeah, okay, sure," she replies, holding out her hand.
Tina lights up and opens her manicure kit. As Tina works on Santana's nails, they actually manage to strike up a conversation about school, and Glee, and family. Random, irrelevant things; important things. Santana learns that Tina shares her taste in music ("I don't actually listen to creepy death music," Tina reassures her.) and by the time all ten of her nails are painted and flawlessly filed, Santana has a date with Tina and Artie to see a local band together.
Weirdest. Thing. Ever.
Freshman Santana would totally be kicking sophomore Santana's ass right about now. But Tina is good at doing nails and stereotype-shatteringly bad at math and laughs like she genuinely means it, kind of like Brittany does, so Santana can't hate her too much. Or well, at all, it turns out.
Once all the girls are finally dressed and made up, Rachel makes them form a small circle.
"Just remember," Rachel says, "whatever happens-"
Brittany has Santana's hand in a vice grip, so Santana bites back her sarcastic retort.
"-we've come so far," Rachel continues, "and we should be proud of our accomplishments."
Rachel looks around the circle. "Eight months ago, I never would've imagined we'd be here. Well, I was confident we'd make it to regionals, given my obvious talent, but I had no idea the journey would be quite this dramatic. And while some of you-" Rachel looks blatantly at Santana. "-seem to believe we need to be mortal enemies, your camaraderie has meant a lot to me this year, and I hope that regardless what happens to Glee, we'll continue to be friends."
"We will," Brittany says, nudging Rachel with her shoulder, and everyone else nods in agreement.
Torturous speech over, the six of them flock to the main waiting area. All the guys are already there, dressed up and looking good.
With everyone pumped to perform, the wait begins to drag on, especially when Aural Intensity closes with a mash-up dedicated to two of the judges. Still, the group pulls it together and even Santana is in high spirits when they finally take to the stage.
From behind the closed curtains, Santana listens for the sounds of Rachel and Finn's duet as they open their performance. The first words drift across the auditorium, and for all of Rachel's grating qualities, her voice gives Santana the fucking goosebumps.
Finn and Rachel's voices grow closer and closer, and Santana's pulse picks up. When the curtains rise and the sounds of the audience's cheers fill the stage, Santana knows only this moment, this music, and her voice harmonizing with eleven others.
They transition smoothly into their second number, a mash-up. Santana smiles her way through the song, a strange sense of pride coursing through her when Puck steps forward for his solo. She flies around the stage, her body guided by the music, and when Brittany twirls and spins, Sue Sylvester is the last thing on Santana's mind.
They close with Don't Stop Believin', and Santana knows this one means more to the original six than it does to her, but it's a fitting song, one that represents something different for each of them but is still ultimately a message of unity, of hope. Under the bright spotlight, inebriated by the music, even Santana embraces that thought.
Santana steps forward, her heart pounding as adrenaline coursing through her, filling her with the desire to nail her solo and make the most of her moment to shine. She listens for her cue, waits for Puck, then the first notes spill from her lips and she experiences a rush she's never known.
Puck's hand is gentle on her forearm as they spin, and he's looking at her like he knows what she's thinking, why she's smiling. Behind her, ten glowing faces. In front of her, hundreds of show choir enthusiasts, friends, family… including her own. Her mother is there, and Santana doesn't know where exactly, but it doesn't matter. She's there, listening, watching, loving. Even if Santana won't admit it to herself, that's all she's ever really wanted.
For a smile they can share the night; it goes on and on and on…
--
Santana had been totally joking about Quinn popping out her baby on stage, but it turns out she hadn't been far off base.
She's the last one off stage, so she catches Quinn talking to her mother, and what. She almost steps right between them and punches Judy fucking Fabray in the face, but she recalls what Quinn had said when Santana had asked her whether she'd go for a reconciliation, so Santana backs off and keeps her distance, only casting one cautious glance at the older woman.
Santana doesn't wander far though, because as far as she knows, Quinn's mother could be here to punch the baby out of Quinn's belly, and Santana has to be on hand to knock Judy Fabray's fucking teeth out if she tries to pull a stunt like that.
She doesn't catch much of the conversation itself, but when Judy cries, "oh my god," and Quinn turns helplessly to Glee Club with a small pool of water at her feet, everyone jumps up and starts talking at once.
"Shut the fuck up, all of you," Santana yells over the other voices, pleased that the chatter dies down a little.
Puck is already at Quinn's side, trying unsuccessfully to avoid getting baby juice all over his shiny new shoes. Mercedes follows close behind and grabs Quinn's other arm.
"Judy," Santana addresses, "for fuck's sake, go get your car started. Your daughter's about to pop out your grandkid."
Judy Fabray is too shocked to even look mildly offended by Santana's tone. She hesitates one moment before running off. Puck and Mercedes try to help Quinn out, but the blonde is either too shaken or in too much pain to move, because she doesn't budge. Puck looks ready to toss Quinn over his shoulder when Artie rolls up and pats his lap.
"I'll wheel her out."
Tina runs into one of the dressing rooms and comes back with a towel, which she folds over Artie's lap.
"That's not going to help much," Santana points out. "Your pants are going to get soaked, especially if she starts gushing."
"That's okay," Artie says.
"Go ahead, Quinn," Tina urges. "I've ridden him a thousand times."
Tina immediately flushes, but Santana's pretty sure that in the chaos, she's the only one who catches it. Even Puck, preoccupied by his impending fatherhood, lets it go.
Artie rolls closer, and Mercedes helps Quinn sit down on Artie's lap. Immediately, Artie's arms wrap securely around Quinn's body. Puck gets behind Artie's wheelchair and pushes them out of the room. Mercedes and Tina run after them.
Santana turns to the other six. "Okay, we need one person - not me - to stay here to keep an eye on Vocal Adrenaline and show up at the award ceremony in case we don't get back in time."
"Although I would really like to be at the hospital when Quinn delivers," Rachel says, stepping forward, "as team captain, it is my responsibility to stay. Please send Quinn my best wishes."
Santana nods. "Everyone else, follow me. We're going to make it to that hospital even if I have to bust open our bus and drive that monster myself."
Santana leads Brittany, Finn, Kurt, Mike, and Matt out of the backstage area. Vocal Adrenaline is getting set up on stage as they rush past.
"Get out of the fucking way," Santana grunts as she bulldozes past a few spectators wandering the aisles.
There's a small gathering of people near the exit, and it isn't until Santana is a few feet away that she realizes her mother is in the crowd. Upon closer inspection, so are Brittany's parents, Rachel's dads, the Hudson-Hummel pair, and others Santana can only assume are the parents of her other teammates, as well as a few younger siblings, including Brittany's sister.
Her mother catches her arm. "We saw Quinn being rushed out. None of us know our way around this part of Ohio, so we found your bus driver. He agreed to drive all of you to the hospital. He's out back, but hurry."
Relieved that threats of violence and hijackings are not in her immediate future, Santana leans in and lightly pecks her mother's cheek. "Thanks so much, Mama." She runs out, calling over her shoulder, "All of you, boo Vocal Adrenaline for us!"
When they reach the bus, Puck and Tina are helping Artie and Quinn onto the wheelchair ramp. Everyone else - including Quinn's mom - piles in, and the bus driver takes off for the hospital.
Puck lifts Quinn off Artie's lap and helps her to a seat. Under the towel, Artie's pants are soaked through.
Santana grimaces and says, "I told you."
Artie shrugs. "Today, I was a hero. Pants can be changed."
Tina nods and smiles proudly at him, and why it's okay for her boyfriend to have another girl's amniotic fluids all over his boy parts is beyond Santana - because fucking gross - but she leaves that one alone.
Quinn clutches her stomach, and her mother actually calms down long enough to show Quinn some breathing techniques. Mercedes grabs one of Quinn's hands and holds on. Puck hovers in the seat behind them, looking a little unsure, a lot helpless.
Santana slides in next to Puck. "Relax, Puckerman."
Puck doesn't say anything, but his shoulders loosen and he lets out a breath.
The bus races down narrow roads, making sharp turns, but the driver knows what he's doing. Fifteen minutes and about three traffic offenses later, he's pulling the bus up to the emergency room entrance. Puck jumps off the bus first to call for a wheelchair.
Quinn stands without help, but she doesn't look very steady on her feet, so Santana hooks Quinn's arm over her shoulders and grabs Quinn around the back.
"Easy, Fabray," Santana mutters. "Breathe. And clamp it up for a few more minutes."
Santana guides Quinn off the bus and plops her into the wheelchair Puck has propped up by the door. Puck pushes away, and everyone follows in a messy line after them.
As they're turning into the delivery room, Quinn reaches for Mercedes, and Santana thinks that maybe Kurt had been right about them after all. If he reads people as well as he reads beauty product labels, well… Santana's got to give him credit for that.
Quinn, her mother, Puck and Mercedes disappear behind a closed door, and the rest of them are ushered into a waiting room nearby.
If the wait for their turn at regionals had been excruciating, Santana doesn't even know what properly describes this.
--
Mercedes comes out of the delivery room first, looking tired but absolutely glowing.
"Ten fingers, ten toes; seven pounds, three ounces," she announces with all the pride of an aunt, and Santana thinks it actually really suits her.
Excited chatter breaks out among the group. Brittany's hand is tight around Santana's, and the blonde is grinning from ear to ear.
"When can we see her?" Tina asks.
"They're cleaning Quinn up now," Mercedes replies, pointing a thumb over her shoulder. "As soon as they move them out of the delivery room, y'all can go and see her and the baby. Gorgeous little thing."
Puck walks out a few minutes later with his hands in his pockets, some residue shock still evident across his features. Santana approaches him and nudges his side.
"Hey, papa," she teases lightly.
Puck just kind of smiles at her.
Santana pats him on the shoulder. "You handling everything okay?"
Puck's head tilts in a short nod. "Yeah," he breathes. "That was-yeah."
Santana smirks. "The babymaker doesn't look so nice mid-birth, does it?"
Puck chuckles. "You're sick, Lopez."
Santana laughs, and before she can process what she's doing, she has her arms wrapped gently around Puck. She thinks of what he's been through this year, how he's changed, and the way he'd looked with her up on stage, a hint of maturity fleshing out his features. She even finds herself tearing up a little at the thought, but she quickly composes herself. Just adrenaline and hormones.
Puck is grinning at her when they pull apart. "You know, Santana, you're really kind of a sap."
Santana punches him on the shoulder in response.
--
As soon as they get the okay, all ten of them make their way to Quinn's hospital room door. It's open, and Quinn is lying down, hair tossed across her pillow. Her mother is standing at her bedside.
Quinn smiles when she notices the commotion at the door. "Hey," she says softly.
Brittany enters first and skips to Quinn's side. "Hi," she greets affectionately, reaching to brush a few strands of Quinn's hair out of her face.
Everyone else files into the room and spaces themselves around the perimeter of the bed. Quinn's mother moves aside to make room. Santana squeezes in between Brittany and Finn and slips her hand around Quinn's clammy one.
"How do you feel?" Santana asks softly.
"Exhausted," Quinn replies with a dry laugh, "and sore. So sore."
A flurry of awkward chuckles pass between the guys, and Quinn rolls her eyes.
"Hey, where's Rachel?" she asks suddenly, looking from face to face.
Santana smirks. "Don't tell me you didn't notice how the ride over lacked any amount of neurosis."
"I was a little busy being in labor, Santana," Quinn fires back, but there's a faint smile across her lips.
"Someone had to stay behind," Kurt finally explains. "Rachel volunteered."
"She really wanted to be here though," Brittany adds.
Quinn hums in acknowledgement. "Is she mad that I wrestled everyone's attention from our performance?"
"Hey, no, of course not," Finn pipes up, his voice coming out a little louder than he'd probably intended. Everyone turns to look at him, and he shrinks slightly under the scrutiny. "We're all just glad you and the baby are healthy and safe and stuff."
Brittany looks around the room with legitimate concern etched across her features. "Where's the baby?"
Quinn smiles. "She's in the nursery, Britt."
"Can we go see her?" Mike asks.
"Yeah, sure." Quinn turns to the foot of the bed. "Mercedes, could you-"
Mercedes nods. "Come on, you guys," she says, signaling for everyone to follow her.
With quick 'be right back's and 'see you later's, the group scatters until only Brittany and Santana remain.
Brittany tugs at Santana's arm, but Santana stays put, her hand still holding Quinn's.
Brittany tilts her head in confusion. "Aren't you coming?"
"Yeah, in a few," Santana replies. "Go ahead, Britt. I'll catch up with you guys."
"Okay," Brittany replies, pressing a quick kiss to Santana's shoulder before running after the rest of the group.
Quinn appears a little confused, but she turns to her mother and says, "Mom, could you give us a sec?"
Judy Fabray looks hesitantly between the two girls but finally leaves the room without a word.
Quinn pushes herself up and then groans and leans back down. "God damn, I should've had a c-section."
Santana chuckles. "Sorry."
Quinn smiles. "It's not too bad."
"No, I-I'm sorry," Santana stammers, her hand tightening around Quinn's.
Quinn's smile fades. "Santana?"
"You were right," Santana says quietly, hating the way her voice sounds so small.
"About what?"
"Everything. Me." She looks up. "I was ecstatic when I found out about your pregnancy. Over the fucking moon, because it meant I'd finally get a shot at head cheerleader." She winces at her own words. "Your life was falling apart and instead of helping you through it, I turned my back on you and took Brittany with me. Every decision I made, everything I said or did, it was all for me. N-not even for Brittany. God, I couldn't even be good for Brittany."
"Santana…"
"We were friends," Santana cuts in, suddenly fighting tears. "Last year, I mean. The three of us were inseparable. Brittany loved you, and I-I chose to see the worst in you. In everyone. Maybe I just envied you; I don't even know, but you didn't deserve all the shit I gave you." She flushes. "I'm so sorry, Q," she finishes softly, knowing her words don't take back the hurt but also knowing that it's a start.
"San." Quinn sighs and stares up at the ceiling. "If it'd been the other way around, you know I would've done the same thing to you. That was just who we were back then."
"Maybe, but it wasn't the other way around. It was this." She runs her fingertips down Quinn's forearm. "It wasn't okay."
"Spilt milk, and all that," Quinn dismisses gently. "You know I've forgiven you."
Santana nods, her heart tender. "Are you going back to live with your mom?" she asks after a moment.
Quinn tenses. "No, I'm staying with Mercedes and her family for a little while longer, at least until my mom sorts out her divorce. I refuse to be caught in the middle of that."
"Did you tell her?"
"Yeah," Quinn sighs. "She didn't understand, and I didn't expect her to."
Santana clutches Quinn's hand protectively. "If you need someone to kick some sense into her-"
Quinn chuckles. "I could always count on you for bloodshed. Hopefully though, it won't be necessary. I do miss her. I just can't go back to that house right now."
"I know," Santana says with a small nod. "You take your time. And if Mercedes's parents get sick of you, my mom's back now, so…"
Quinn smiles appreciatively. "Thank you."
"Yeah," Santana breathes. She glances briefly at the doorway and decides, "I'll stay with you until they get back, okay?"
Quinn nods. "Hey," she says, reaching to touch Santana's arm. "I'm getting back on that cheerleading squad next year, you know. I'm coming after your captaincy."
Santana only grins. "Bring it, Fabray. Bring it."
--
Brittany takes Santana to see Quinn's baby after everyone has returned from their first venture to the nursery.
"That one," Brittany says, pointing to a tiny little thing sleeping peacefully in her tiny little crib.
Santana can't help but smile. She can already see the faintest traces of Quinn's nose, Puck's chin.
Brittany nudges Santana. "You think Quinn's gonna keep her?"
"No," Santana answer softly, as though afraid of waking the baby. "And I think that's the right decision. For both of them, and Puck."
"Can we keep her?"
Santana laughs. "You want to change her dirty diapers?"
Brittany smiles and turns back to the nursery, but she doesn't say anything. Santana slips her hand into Brittany's and squeezes.
"Having a baby is scary," Brittany murmurs.
Santana watches Quinn's baby for a moment. "It totally is."
"I want some though," Brittany says thoughtfully. "I mean, eventually, like when I'm older."
"How many?" Santana asks, keeping her eyes on the sleeping baby.
"At least one or two. Maybe more." Brittany turns to Santana. "What about you?"
Santana shrugs. "Never really thought about it," she replies, even though her answer before today has always been 'none'. She frowns. "You do know that we can't have kids without like, help, right?"
"Yeah," Brittany nods, "but Rachel's dads did it." She's quiet for a moment, then, "I don't need kids, Santana."
"But you want them," Santana states quietly.
Brittany shrugs. "I just want you."
"I want to give you everything you want, Britt," Santana says, finally rotating to face Brittany.
"I know," Brittany replies, smoothing a hand over the front of Santana's dress. "It's really far away, San. I don't even know what I'm going to eat for supper tonight."
Santana sighs. "I like knowing how things are going to work out. Plans; I like plans."
Brittany tugs gently at Santana's body, pulling her closer. "Nobody knows what's going to happen tomorrow," she says gently. As an afterthought, she adds, "Unless you're Professor Trelawney, but you keep telling me Hogwarts isn't real, so."
Santana laughs. "Because it isn't."
Brittany smiles at her. "The last time we had this argument…"
A flush creeps up Santana's neck. "We're not having make-up sex in the middle of the hospital," she preempts, keeping her voice low.
Brittany shrugs playfully, as though saying your loss, and Santana curses and tries to keep it in her pants. Or under her dress. Whatever. They both turn to watch Quinn's baby in silence for a few more minutes. Brittany coos when the tiny thing fusses momentarily, her little fist brushing the side of her head.
"It's not that I don't want kids," Santana blurts out. "I just-with my mom and everything…"
"Santana, stop," Brittany instructs, cutting her off. Her eyes soften. "I love you, and I want to keep loving you and kissing you and having really hot sex with you." She grins coyly. "Everything else is optional."
Santana leans in and kisses Brittany, trying desperately to show everything she does not have the words to verbalize. Everything about how something flickers inside her at the idea of tiny little blond-haired blue-eyed toddlers running around. Everything about how she's too young to know, too jaded to believe, too terrified of everything she feels all the time. Everything Brittany probably already knows and just accepts - no, embraces - unconditionally.
Brittany's hand slides up to Santana's shoulder, assuredly brushing past hair to reach the nape of Santana's neck. A low groan escapes Santana's throat, and she deepens the kiss, her hands coming to rest against the small of Brittany's back and pulling her in, their dresses pressing together. Brittany whimpers, her hand tightening against the back of Santana's neck, and Santana pulls away slightly.
"You have my heart," Santana tells her, the words streaming out like she's never known any other truth. "You are my heart. My whole fucking heart."
A delighted smile spreads across Brittany's face, and it's the most beautiful thing Santana has ever seen. She laughs and pulls the blonde into her arms, just holding her close because she can, right there in the middle of the neonatal ward, running high on adrenaline and emotions and the surest sense of security.
A few nurses are staring, and a woman holding a young child has her hand pressed firmly against the little girl's eyes, shielding her. But Santana doesn't care about the looks or the disapproval. Fuck everyone who thinks this is wrong when she's the only one who knows how she feels right now, in this instant, wrapped up in Brittany.
--
Back in Quinn's hospital room, excited and nervous chatter has broken out. In the time that Brittany and Santana had spent at the nursery, the rest of the group had gotten a call from Rachel asking how everything had gone. In return, she'd informed them that Vocal Adrenaline has wrapped up their performance, and that the judges are in deliberation.
"I need to get back," Finn says, tucking his hands into his pockets. "I owe Rachel one for flaking out on photo day. I don't want her to be up there by herself."
"Go ahead," Quinn urges, looking around the room as she sits herself up. "Not just you, Finn. All of you should join Rachel on stage for the ceremony. This means a lot to her."
Everyone in the room begins to file out. Mike and Matt each give Quinn a gentle pat on the arm before leaving. Finn smiles awkwardly at Quinn and follows the two football players out. Artie, with a fresh pair of pants on, wheels up to Quinn's bedside with Tina directly behind him.
"Thanks, Artie," Quinn says with a faint smile. "I'm never going to forget what you did for me."
Artie beams. "Anytime, Quinn," he replies.
Santana wonders if maybe she'd underestimated just how much being a hero means to the wheelchair-bound boy.
Tina smiles brightly at Quinn and wheels Artie out. Mercedes and Kurt approach the bed.
"You gonna be okay, Quinn? We could stay around if you want." Mercedes looks up at Kurt, who nods.
Quinn shakes her head. "Go stand on that stage, Mercedes. You too, Kurt."
Mercedes and Kurt draw Quinn into an embrace, their heads pressed to either side of Quinn's face, and Santana has never craved siblings quite like she does right then. Damn, she's going soft, but hell, with the emotional rollercoaster that has been the past few weeks, she'll take it.
Once Mercedes and Kurt slip away arm-in-arm, Brittany slides to Quinn's side and leans in to brush a kiss to Quinn's cheek. "She's gorgeous, Quinn."
Santana settles for giving Quinn's hand a tight squeeze and Puck's shoulder a fistful of knuckle before leaving the room with Brittany and following the rest of Glee Club toward the exit. A moment later, Puck catches up to them.
Santana glances at him. "Not staying behind?"
Puck shrugs. "She wants us to be there with Rachel."
Their bus driver is waiting dutifully for them in the parking lot. The group piles on. Santana is the last one to board, and when no one is looking, she leans down next to the driver.
"I know nobody's in labor, but if you could get us back as quickly as you got us here, we'd all really appreciate it."
She wants to say she's not asking for Rachel, but well, the driver has no clue who that is, and also, she kind of is asking for Rachel.
Their bus driver nods. "Take a seat and hang on."
The bus jerks out of the hospital parking lot, and Santana quickly seats herself to avoid being tossed around. She finds herself next to Puck, who still looks like he's carrying the weight of the world. Maybe he is. Or maybe it's only the weight of his world, but for all his broad shoulders and muscular arms, he's still sixteen. Santana knows what that's like, to feel inadequately young.
Santana is staring straight ahead when she says quietly, "I'm here, you know."
Without looking at her, Puck briefly touches Santana's wrist.
--
The stage is bright. Brighter than Santana remembers from their performance. Her heart is pounding again, like it knows something she doesn't. Like it knows that this is important to her, that she wants this. To win, and not only for the sake of winning. Not just to see Jesse St. James walk out in shame. Not just for the trophy or the applause or even the personal satisfaction.
She wants to win for her teammates. Someone would have to beat the admission out of her, but there it is.
Brittany's hand is clasped firmly in Santana's, and Santana can feel the nervous energy flowing through the blonde. She tries to be strong for both of them, for all eleven of them and Quinn and even Mr. Schuester, but Santana knows that every one of them is shouldering their own weight, different but still heavy.
The judges file onto the stage, and Santana tries not to look at Coach Sylvester because she's always been good at reading Coach's sneers and she doesn't want to know a moment too soon.
Aural Intensity takes runner up. Santana tries not to react. Brittany's hand tightens, and Santana is squeezing back.
She hasn't seen Vocal Adrenaline's performance, nor had the opportunity to ask Rachel. She doesn't know if they've done enough. She feels like maybe they have.
But two words - the wrong ones - leave Sue Sylvester's lips, and it's all over. Santana's heart drops to her stomach as she tries to compose herself, the words it's over it's over it's over ringing again and again in her head. She hangs onto Brittany and tries not to feel anything.
Rachel is standing directly in front of them, and Brittany's other hand slides to Rachel's shoulder. Brittany's head falls against Santana's collar, and Santana's next motion is robotic, but not insincere: She pats Rachel's arm and keeps her hand there.
--
Puck, Mercedes, and Mercedes's parents rush off to the hospital immediately after the conclusion of the ceremony.
By the time the other members of New Directions catch up with their families, the auditorium has mostly cleared out. Nobody has said much at all since receiving the bad news, and the tiny trophy still clutched in Mr. Schue's hand mostly feels like a punch to the gut.
Santana's mother approaches and pulls Santana into her arms.
"Estoy muy orgullosa de ti," she murmurs.
"We lost," Santana cannot help but point out.
"Being proud of you has nothing to do with that," is all her mother says, and Santana thinks that she could live with that.
She looks around the room and sees Brittany with her family, Rachel with her dads, Kurt and Finn huddled together with their parents. Tina and Artie and Mike and Matt and their loved ones. She tightens her grip around her mother.
"Gracias, Mama," she says softly.
Her mother just holds her. They're going to be okay, Santana decides. The two of them are going to be just fine.
A moment later, something small but strong runs into Santana's side. It's Brittany's sister.
Santana pulls away from her mother to smile at the little girl. Brittany sidles up to Santana, her arms slipping easily around Santana's midsection, and the two just hold each other, drawing comfort, because Glee is over and neither is supposed to be devastated but both are.
And when Brittany presses her lips lightly against Santana's, Santana's mother still looks away, but she smiles faintly at them when the kiss is over, and Santana thinks that maybe there's time for progress.
Santana drifts to Brittany's mother, and she hesitates only one moment before she's drawing Brittany's mother in, tightening her arms around the older woman.
"Thank you," Santana murmurs, squeezing her eyes shut. "Thank you for everything you've done, for loving me when I didn't know how to love anyone back."
And Brittany's mother, Santana knows, is not the only person for which those words are true.
--
They collectively decide to return to the hospital. All nine of them who aren't there yet, and Mr. Schue. Their bus driver? Is a fucking godsend.
As the bus is chugging along, at a much more leisurely pace than the two previous rides, Rachel calls Quinn to inform her of their loss, even though she knows Puck and Mercedes are already there. It's her responsibility as captain, she explains to the rest of them. It feels like nothing more than pure masochism to Santana, but maybe Rachel really does carry the weight of the team on her shoulders.
With her rhinestone-encrusted phone against her ear, Rachel states the news matter-of-fact, like it doesn't hurt, like it's not destroying her inside. Santana has to admire that, even if it is Rachel Obnoxiousface Berry.
Santana turns away, trying to focus on something else. The bus ride is long and feels unbearably empty. She grabs Brittany's hand and doesn't let go.
--
At the hospital, the group heads toward Quinn's room again, solemnly this time. Quinn's mother is standing tensely with Mercedes's parents outside the doorway, making what sounds to Santana like really uncomfortable small talk. Santana can't help but wish every ounce of discomfort on the stupid bitch.
Mercedes greets them at the door. "Quinn and Puck are at the nursery," she explains before anyone can ask. "Figured they could use a little privacy."
Mr. Schuester joins the adults in conversation, and everyone else settles down to wait for Quinn and Puck's return. They actually end up being gone an absurdly long amount of time, considering Quinn doesn't even want to keep this baby, but Santana maintains her cool and stays patient.
As Santana is contemplating whether to go and check up on them, Quinn and Puck appear around the corner and approach the four adults.
Quinn turns to Mercedes's mother instead of her own. "We found Beth an adoptive mother."
"Who?" Quinn's mother asks, but Quinn ignores her.
Mercedes's mother looks toward the direction of the nursery. "Just now?"
Quinn nods. "She's willing to take her right away."
"Who is it?" Mr. Schue asks, looking between Quinn and Puck uncertainly. "Do we-do we get to meet her?"
"You actually already have," Quinn replies, suddenly turning to glance uneasily at Rachel.
Rachel steps forward. "Quinn?"
"I-Rach, Shelby Corcoran wants to adopt Beth."
Rachel's immediate reaction is unreadable. Her mouth opens, but nothing comes out. She closes it again.
Finn steps toward her and reaches out an arm, but it hovers awkwardly around her shoulder.
"I just need a moment," Rachel says evenly before turning to leave.
Finn looks around uncomfortably at the others before chasing after her.
Santana looks only at Quinn and Puck, reads the conflict across their features, and her heart hurts for the two of them. The worst part is that she knows she is completely powerless to fix this. She takes half a step forward, unsure, but before she can say anything, the adults are sweeping Quinn and Puck away, back to the nursery, back to Beth and Corcoran and the Big Damn Mess, and Santana has to swallow against the lump in her throat. The terrified glance Puck tosses her before he leaves etches into her memory.
As soon as they disappear behind a corner, nervous chatter breaks out among the group, but all Santana can do is hold Brittany's hand and wait.
--
The adoption goes through - or at least, the preliminary stuff gets checked out - and Rachel and Finn are back, and it's been a long fucking day. It's dark out, and most of them have fielded phone calls from worried parents, but all of them stick it out for Quinn and Puck.
Santana doesn't even have the energy to complain about how much Shelby Corcoran is a total bitch, because really, what's the point? Salting those wounds isn't going to help anyone, and Quinn and Puck just look so damn drained. Only time will tell, anyway, and if she's learned anything from her mother, from Quinn, from the stupid club she already misses, it's that people can change. Maybe Shelby Corcoran, too.
Doesn't make the situation any less fucked up, but it's worth something, and sometimes, that's all anyone's really got.
--
It's pitch black outside by the time they load up the bus one last time. There's sadness in the air, but there's also some relief, a little pride, and the faintest hint of hope.
Brittany is still holding Santana's hand, but Santana looks briefly at Puck sitting alone at the back and Brittany gets it. The blonde presses a kiss to Santana's lips before releasing her hand and slipping into a seat next to Mike. Santana carefully makes her way over, passing Quinn with her head against Mercedes's shoulder, Rachel and Finn with hands clasped together, Tina and Artie sitting quietly.
Santana slides in beside Puck. He looks up briefly but doesn't say anything. She doesn't either for a long time.
It's not until the bus is pulling into Lima and half its occupants are asleep that Santana finally speaks.
"I got your back."
A flicker of recognition. "I know."
--
Glee Club is over and they sing to Mr. Schue and she cries. She'd feel like a total loser except they all cry, even Puck when nobody's looking, but Santana doesn't think that one's completely about Glee.
Brittany kisses her quietly that night and they make love - she starts calling it that at Brittany's insistence, but it kind of really feels like that sometimes, so she figures as long as she doesn't start using that term around Puck once he's recovered enough to crack sex jokes again, she's solid.
--
It's been a week and a half since losing regionals, and Mr. Schue and Puck - fucking Puck - are sitting there singing Over The Rainbow because Glee Club - fucking Glee Club - is back for another year, and even the ugly squeal Rachel lets out isn't enough to kill Santana's buzz.
Brittany is so excited after the performance that she climbs onto Santana's lap and begins stroking Santana's thigh, which grosses out Rachel and Kurt (the first time they agree about anything), so that's pretty cool, too.
Mr. Schue leaves first with his ukulele, and the rest of the group begins exchanging wishes of a great summer and promises to hang out.
Mercedes pulls Santana into a hug, apparently deciding that being BFFs with the same person automatically overrides any previous nasty confrontations the two may have had. Santana can deal with that.
Matt hugs her too, which should be weird because they're not doing it anymore and Matt's never been particularly affectionate otherwise, but he's all right.
Finn just smiles crookedly at her and claps his hand against her shoulder. The frightened look he gets immediately after tells her he seems to regret the decision, but before he can stammer out an apology, Santana slaps him back, and he smiles again.
Kurt readjusts Santana's Cheerios uniform, which should piss her off but doesn't. He hugs her, too.
Tina and Artie come as a pair, and Tina asks if they're still on for next week. Santana asks if she can bring Brittany. She asks. So like, that's pretty considerate of her. Of course they say yes and act like it's some big deal double date thing, but whatever. It's just dinner and a show. With Brittany, who she's dating, and Tina and Artie, who are dating each other. …Shit.
Mike shakes her hand because he's weird like that, then leans closer and warns her not to break Brittany's heart. ("Mind your own business, Chang," she says, but what she means is, I'd kill myself first.)
Rachel nods courteously at her and applauds her on her leadership during Quinn's labor, of all the fucking things.
"I killed that solo though," Santana cannot help but point out. "Knew you weren't the only one who could do it, Berry."
"While your voice is indeed-"
"Yeah, shut up."
The room is thinning out now, and Puck approaches with a cocky little grin.
"Hey, so, proposition."
"Britt and I are not having a threesome with you."
"Damn, you're good."
Santana smiles. "Someone's in a great mood."
Puck mirrors her smile, but a hint of sadness lingers behind his eyes. "Beth's adoption papers went through this morning."
Santana softens. "You okay?"
"Yeah," he nods. "I just-Corcoran said we could visit sometimes if we wanted. Quinn didn't really look like she wanted to though."
"You'd go alone?"
"I don't know. That'd be so weird. And fuck, Corcoran's kind of a milf."
Santana rolls her eyes but doesn't comment. "I could tag along if…" She trails off, uncertain. "And Britt. She loves that kid already."
"She loves everything," he points out, then punches Santana on the shoulder, as affectionately as he knows how. "Thanks," he mumbles.
Quinn sidles up to them. "What're you guys talking about?"
Before either of them has to pull out an awkward excuse, Brittany tackles Quinn with a monster hug, nearly knocking her over.
"Jeez, Britt," Quinn mutters, but she's smiling and hugging Brittany back.
Santana looks at them, at her friends - her best friends, the three of them - and she thinks that maybe, it's gonna be a great summer.
--
Santana rewrites her three-point plan.
She's been rewriting it in her head over the past year, but well, she's never actually etched her plan to paper before, so maybe all of this is just some stupid metaphor meant to confuse her.
Anyway, her plan.
One: Stay on the Cheerios. Because yeah, high school currency still counts for something, and it keeps Azimio and Karofsky's dirty paws off them. She's already looking forward to next year's nationals and taking Brittany against the wall again. Or, you know, whatever surface happens to be available. She's not picky. (Don't hate Quinn if she wrestles back captaincy, she scribbles into the margins, but do wrestle that motherfucker back.)
Two: The high school chain of command is still a precious thing. Like, she's not going to suddenly be Rachel Berry's best friend just because she's not as awful as most people make her out to be (she's still pretty awful, but you know, she has her redeeming moments - not many, but yeah, whatever). She frowns and scratches out the whole thing, replacing it with: Find the optimal shit-shoveling to shit-dumping ratio, and try to cut Glee Club some slack wherever possible.
Three: Brittany.
She rearranges the numbering so Brittany's on top (she chuckles a little at that, just because for all of Santana's aggression, Brittany actually does spend most of her time being on top, not that anyone has to know that).
Santana folds up the sheet of paper and tucks it carefully inside a tiny compartment in her wallet, intending to carry it around with her. Lame, yeah, but whatever.
The sound of Brittany's laughter drifts up the stairs and through her open bedroom door, and Santana smiles. She rushes downstairs and finds Brittany and her sister near the entrance, doubled over with laughter. Behind them, Brittany's mom is flushed pink and hiding her eyes in embarrassment. Santana's own mother stands beside them, her eyes lit up, like she's never known any other moment before this one.
Santana doesn't ask; she doesn't have to. She just laughs along.
fin.
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