One Step Closer [Chapter 6]
Title: One Step Closer
Pairings/Characters: Santana/Brittany, Brittany's parents (John and Anna), several original characters, side Rachel/Quinn and their children: Gabriela, Ethaniel, Adrian, Susan, Harmony, and Jonah
Rating: PG-13
Length: ~20,600 words
Summary: Dreams are peculiar things. For Santana, her worst nightmare comes true with the words “there's been an accident”. It takes thousands of steps to rebuild her life and replace the nightmare with her greatest dreams.
-Chapter 6-
By March, Brittany was moving the full length of the parallel bars with plenty of help from Robin. At the end of April she could move the full length and the back again, still with plenty of help. Santana had practically moved into the Pierce’s house and neither of Brittany’s parents seemed to mind. In June she dropped off her last rent check and Brittany made it halfway the length of the parallel bars without Robin’s support. In July, Brittany made it the full length of the bars and Santana was at the end to catch her and kiss her to let her know how proud she was. They celebrated that night. It had been a year since the accident and Brittany had come much further than anyone ever expected her to. She would stand at the kitchen counter and hold on as long as she could between physical therapy sessions, taking a few steps if she felt brave and Santana was there to catch her when her knees gave out.
Santana seemed to notice things coming to a plateau in August. Brittany wasn't going any further on the parallel bars than she had been at the beginning of July, always tiring out before she could move any further. She had kept up her exercises, Santana saw to it. But it wasn't enough.
“While the nerves in your arms are working at full function as is obvious by your remarkable recovery,” Brittany's orthopedic doctor said, taking off his glasses and rubbing the bridge of his nose, “we might not be so lucky with your legs.”
“Meaning?” Santana growled.
“Meaning that this may be as good as it gets, Ms. Lopez. While her spinal cord didn't experience any severe damage, we know there was more damage to the nerves in her lower extremities than her upper.”
“But she can feel everything, she can move. It's her muscles!”
“Muscles and nerves work together. Nerves have to work for muscles to work.”
“So I'm not going to walk?”
“You can keep trying, Brittany. Just don't get your hopes up.”
If Santana wasn't petrified of going to prison, she probably would've killed Brittany's doctor. She called the doctors in New York and had all of Brittany's information sent to them in hopes for an answer from a doctor that didn't also moonlight as a taxidermist. In only a few days they heard back from Dr. Harris what they absolutely did not want to hear. There was nothing else they could do except the physical therapy.
“Spinal research has come a long way,” Dr. Harris said. “But I did what I could, you know that. Just keep working, Brittany. You did more than we thought you ever would, remember that. It may just take some more time for your legs to fully wake up. Nerve damage is unpredictable.”
“When will we know if this is it?” Santana asked with a sigh.
“The body will know. Not the brain, the body.”
It wasn't what either of them wanted to hear but it threw Brittany into a quick tailspin. Santana noticed it right away. Brittany found ways to skip therapy, she would only get frustrated when she did go and give up easily. It killed Santana to see her back where they were a year ago. And it also scared her beyond imagination. She did her best to be out of the bank on time every single night and spent as much time with her girlfriend as she could. The problem was that Brittany wasn't angry this time. She was flat out depressed.
Santana went again to the psychiatrist with Brittany and Brittany agreed to try a higher dosage of her anti-depressant. For a few weeks, Santana and Brittany's parents still had to push her to going to physical therapy but Brittany's demeanor remained the same. She didn't have the drive or determination to do it.
After Brittany's shower, Santana helped her girlfriend dry off (not because Brittany needed the help, Santana just really loved doing it) and get her pajamas on. It was one of the only times during the day that Santana still saw Brittany smile. They went through Brittany's stretches and Santana tried to coax a few exercises out of her girlfriend but to no avail. Brittany only wanted to get into bed. She did so on her own and pulled herself up to sit against the headboard and Santana massaged the blonde's calves.
“Don't bother,” Brittany mumbled. “Doesn't do anything.”
“I know you want to give up but I'm not going to. Besides, I know it feels good.”
“Yeah.”
“Please just keep trying, Britt. Please.” Santana leaned down and pressed a kiss to each of Brittany's knees with the hope and the prayer that something miraculous could happen. “Por favor, Dios,, she whispered, “ayuda a sanar.”
“I wish that worked.”
“Maybe it will.”
“It won't.”
“You don't know that.” Santana pulled the blankets up to Brittany's waist and began putting things away, picking up clothes. “Remember how you were in the beginning, B? You were determined to walk again. Where did that go?”
Brittany shrugged.
Santana sighed and dropped down to the bed again. “Listen, if you want to give up then that’s your choice. But why give up now when you’ve come so far? And if you give up now and then you want to go back for it the harness company isn’t going to pay for it.”
“I know, San. It's just really hard.”
“I know, baby. I know.” Santana leaned forward to kiss her girlfriend, her hand going around the back of Brittany's neck and brushing against the smooth skin of the scar. “I love you, Brittany. I love you so much and you know I'll be here for you no matter what.”
XXXXXXXXXX
Santana came with Brittany to her next physical therapy session, determined to find some way to help her girlfriend despite the fact that she knew almost nothing about the subject. What she did find, though, was a pattern she had never seen before. When Brittany was on the parallel bars she would look for the end. She would get frustrated before she got there and give up when she did.
“Can you take her off the bars?” Santana asked Robin while Brittany was on the stationary bike, cooling down.
“What do you mean?”
“She sees her limits. Take her off of them and she won't see the end. She won't give up if she can't see it.”
Robin smiled. “Gotcha.”
Santana skipped lunch for the next session, just long enough to go in to see how Brittany did without the bars. She got there just in time to see Robin pull Brittany out of her chair by the waist belt and the blonde place her hands on the man's shoulders. She said nothing, only stood in the doorway and watched. And she smirked when she was proven right. Brittany walked all over the floor space, at least the length of three times the parallel bars.
“One more step,” Robin coaxed her. “You'll be doing pirouettes tomorrow.”
“I can't.”
“Do you know how far you walked today, Brittany?”
“A lot,” Santana answered. Brittany was startled, her knees gave a little but Robin pulled her back up. “Britt, you walked a lot more than you did even a few days ago.”
“No I didn't.”
“Yeah you did,” Robin said. “You've never walked this far before.”
XXXXXXXXXX
Without seeing her limits, Brittany was walking more each day; her muscle strength tests kept spiking up. Santana prayed even more, thanking God for performing what Robin said was a miracle. In mid-November, Santana sat on the large exercise table, nervously chewing on her lower lip as Robin practically skipped away and to a storage closet after announcing that he had gotten Brittany a surprise.
“Let's see how you tackle these,” he said, returning with crutches.
“Do they come in pink?” Brittany asked, a little unsure.
Santana only smiled. “You won't need them for very long.”
“Silver is ugly.”
“I’ll spraypaint them,” Santana said. “Now come on.”
“I…I don’t know.”
“Britt, I barely hold on to you anymore. Come on, you got this.”
Santana watched, holding her breath as Brittany slipped her arms through the forearm cuffs and Robin hoisted her upright. The blonde caught her balance and Santana saw her girlfriend’s knuckles turn white as she gripped hard onto the handles. Robin still had his hands around her waist as she got used to the feeling of much less support.
“Try to let a little weight go to your legs, they’re strong enough. You’ll kill your arms if you keep all your weight on them.”
Brittany nodded and Santana saw her relax a little.
“See?” Robin said when Brittany steadied herself again. “You’re stronger than you think. You don’t give yourself enough credit.”
Brittany growled.
“You want to try a step?”
“I think so.”
“I won’t let you fall, give me a little more determination than that.”
Brittany took a deep breath and nodded. “I can do it.”
“Good job,” Robin said with a grin. “Try it.”
Brittany re-adjusted her grip and moved her left arm forward, followed by her right. As soon as she had both rubber grips planted firmly on the floor she moved her left leg, gripped her lower lip between her teeth, and then moved her right. Santana stayed close behind with Brittany’s chair, ready to catch her if she fell.
“How’d that feel?”
“Weird.”
“Get used to it.”
Each time Brittany inched forward, Santana’s smile got bigger. She watched her girlfriend move forward, inch by inch, defying all of her doctors and herself. Santana couldn't help but pull out her phone and take video to send to Quinn and Rachel.
“San, come on,” Brittany whined
“Babe, this is big. I want everyone to see.”
“I'm tired.”
“Alright.” Santana tucked away her phone and held Brittany's chair steady and let the blonde drop down. She could see the disappointment on Brittany's face, not having gone as far as she had been. But it was still a milestone. Santana had tears in her eyes as she bent over to press a kiss to Brittany's neck.
“I want to show you something,” Santana whispered. She pulled Brittany back, halfway across the room while Robin stayed where he was. “That’s how far you went. On your own. You’re not allowed to tell me that you’re not getting better anymore.”
Brittany did a double take as she looked from Robin to Santana.
“I did that?”
“You did that, babe.”
XXXXXXXXXX
“That is magnificent!” Rachel shrieked, nearly piercing Santana's eardrums. “Brittany, you're walking!”
“Not really.”
“Britt,” Quinn chimed in. Santana could practically hear the smiles on the other line. “You walked.”
“We must celebrate,” Rachel said. “We're flying to Lima for Thanksgiving and I demand to have a party. I'll handle all of the arrangements. We'll have a Saturday lunch at my dads' house.”
“Whatever you say, Berry. How are the snot factories? I dropped the birthday cards for the boys in the mail yesterday.”
“The babies are doing very well. They're officially nine months old tomorrow! We're having their pictures done, we'll bring copies with us.”
Santana only smirked. She wouldn't let it slide that she had pictures of all of Quinn and Rachel's kids in her wallet.
XXXXXXXXXX
Things progressed little by little. Brittany took one or two more steps each day before exhausting herself. She was more determined than ever, though. Santana had no problems with that in the least. Brittany had become a little bit more confident and pushed herself with determination. Her New Year's resolution was to walk.
Thanksgiving morning, as John and Anna prepared to receive the Lopez' and the rest of the Pierce family that would be in town for Thanksgiving, Santana and Brittany took over the kitchen. Brittany, standing at the island at her request, did what she could with one free hand as her other gripped onto her crutch.
“B, can you hand me the sage?”
Santana turned just in time to see Brittany grab the container of fresh sage leaves with one hand, her other letting go of the handle on her crutch…and her knees give out. Brittany hit the floor with a loud crash, the bowl with the stuffing coming with her, just as Santana reached to try and catch her. She landed on her side and with a sharp yell, it was the hip they had taken the bone out of and it was still sensitive to pressure, Santana knew. Santana immediately knelt to the ground and ran her hand over Brittany’s cheeks and up to her eyes to wipe the tears from them. Disappointment and anger was clear in the bright blues as Brittany took a shuddering breath and dug her fingertips into the hard tile.
“Are you okay?”
John and Anna appeared in the kitchen in only a moment, both immediately kneeling down. John grabbed his daughter's hand and squeezed.
“What happened?” Anna asked. “Did you slip, honey?”
“I fell,” Brittany mumbled. “I’m fine.”
“Are you sure?”
“I'm fine,” Brittany growled. “I want to sit up.”
Santana instinctively reached her arm underneath her girlfriend and helped pull her up. Shockingly, Brittany let her. The Latina wiped away Brittany's tears yet again, her other hand reaching up to brush over the scar on the back of Brittany's neck.
“Are you sure you're okay?” Anna asked.
Brittany only weakly nodded and moved to swat Santana's hands away. “I said I was fine. I want my chair.”
“B…”
“I want my chair.”
“Come on sweetie,” Anna cooed, “we’ll help you up.”
The next thing Santana knew a flash of silver went hurling past her head and right through the Pierces’ microwave door. Another soon followed and hit the coffee pot right on target sending glass and that morning’s coffee flying. Brittany narrowed her eyes at Santana, daring defiance.
“I’ll get your chair,” John sighed.
“No.” Santana clenched her jaw and stood, damn determined not to let Brittany win, and grabbed a broom. “If she’s going to act like a three-year-old she can sit there and throw her little tantrum but I’m not dealing with that shit. Our kids won’t pull that and neither will she.”
Anna nodded. She grabbed a rag and began mopping up the coffee as Santana swept the glass. The Latina unplugged the microwave and tossed Brittany's discarded crutch on the floor next to the blonde.
“Santana!” Brittany pounded her fist on the floor.
Santana kept sweeping. John backed out of the kitchen with an apologetic look on his face.
“Listen to me!”
“So you plan on giving me grandchildren?” Anna asked with a smile, picking up the dish of stuffing and tossing what had hit the floor into the garbage can.
“Hopefully.”
“Mom!”
Santana watched out of the corner of her eye as Brittany scooted herself forward and grabbed one discarded crutch. She poked her mother with it before screeching and throwing it back to the floor. Santana still ignored her. She and Anna moved to the kitchen counter where Santana began making another batch of stuffing and Anna cut up the vegetables. It took a full seven minutes before Santana knew that Brittany realized no one was going to help her. The blonde growled and reached up for the island counter to pull herself to her knees.
“Do you want some help, B?”
“Get away.”
The muscles in Brittany’s biceps and back flexed as she pulled, reaching across the island to grip onto the partition in the sink to pull herself into a final, almost standing position. The blonde gripped onto the island counters, her legs shaking. Santana picked up the crutches from the floor and offered them out; Brittany grabbed one, steadied herself, and then grabbed the other. She glared at Santana and shook her head at her mother before walking out of the kitchen.
“I hope you’re happy,” she mumbled.
Santana darted around the other side of the island and cut off Brittany’s path. She lifted the blonde’s face up with her hands and tried to blink back the tears threatening to spill over.
“I am happy.”
“You’re mean,” Brittany mumbled.
“You pulled yourself up off the floor without any help. If me being mean is going to make you do that then fine.”
Brittany nodded and Santana did the only thing she could think of to do and that was to pull her girlfriend in and kiss her with everything she had.
Rachel's party was, surprisingly, not an extravagant event. Santana tried not to look too eager as she grabbed Harmony from Quinn and tossed the girl up in the air a few times. She and Brittany settled themselves on the living room floor with Gabriela, Susan, Harmony and Jonah and watched Ethaniel and Adrian swordfight with Brittany's crutches.
“How do you guys do it, seriously?” Santana asked over dinner. Jonah had just thrown a handful peas at Rachel which was, apparently, the most hysterical thing ever to all of the kids. And Santana.
“We wanted a big family,” Rachel said, picking peas from her hair. “We make it work. It takes organization and determination.”
“You're both insane.”
“You'll never love anything more than your own children,” Rachel stated. Jonah threw another handful of peas at her, sending everyone into another fit of laughter. “No matter what they do to you.”
“You'll find out,” Quinn said. “I know Santana wants kids.”
“You know...maybe. I've got a couple other things I want to do first.”
Brittany's eyebrows furrowed in curiosity and Santana could only chuckle. “What else do you want to do?”
“You'll find out, B.”
Quinn and Rachel talked them in to watching the kids for dinner that night. Okay, well, maybe Santana had suggested it...either way, she got to spend time with the kids. They made their own pizzas for dinner and Santana wrestled with Ethaniel and Adrian until both boys fell asleep on the floor. She carried them each up to their room and got them into their pajamas before tucking them in to bed, kissing each of their foreheads before she shut the door. By the time she got back downstairs, Susan had fallen asleep in Brittany's lap while Harmony and Jonah slept peacefully in their playpen.
“Aunt Tana?” Gabriela crawled up on Santana's lap. “I want cousins to play with for Christmas.”
“Uh,” Santana stammered. “Not this year, okay sweetie?”
“Next year?”
“I don't know.” Santana glanced at Brittany. “We'll see.”
“I asked Santa for them. Mommy and Mama said we're not gonna have anymore brothers or sisters but we might have cousins.”
“Sometimes Santa can't do stuff,” Brittany chimed in. “But he'll give you patience.”
By the time Rachel, Quinn, and Rachel's dads got home, Santana was asleep on the kids' bedroom floor, a book on her lap and resting up against Gabriela's bed. She had left Brittany in the living room stretched out on the couch with Susan asleep on top of her. It wasn't a half bad way to end a day, Santana decided when Quinn woke her. She helped Quinn get the twins up to their bedroom, Rachel following behind with Susan while Brittany and the Berry men cleaned up the living room.
“I'm going to ask her to marry me,” Santana whispered, settling Harmony down in the upstairs playpen.
Quinn had to put a hand over Rachel's mouth to muffle the brunette's squeal. Santana only rolled her eyes and swept her fingers through Harmony's blonde hair, smiling at the softness.
“When?” Rachel gasped.
“I don't know yet.”
“Oh Santana!” Rachel whispered. “This is so wonderful!”
“Congratulations, San,” Quinn said, reaching her arms out for a hug. “It's about damn time.”
“I know a fabulous jeweler-”
“I think we'll just do wedding rings,” Santana cut her off. “It's not like finances are tight right now but if we want to move back to New York, we'll need to save up.”
“I think I know of a great apartment for sale,” Quinn said with a smile. “Good neighborhood, four bedrooms, three and a half bathrooms, spacious kitchen and family room...”
“I'll let you know, Q.”
Pairings/Characters: Santana/Brittany, Brittany's parents (John and Anna), several original characters, side Rachel/Quinn and their children: Gabriela, Ethaniel, Adrian, Susan, Harmony, and Jonah
Rating: PG-13
Length: ~20,600 words
Summary: Dreams are peculiar things. For Santana, her worst nightmare comes true with the words “there's been an accident”. It takes thousands of steps to rebuild her life and replace the nightmare with her greatest dreams.
-Chapter 6-
By March, Brittany was moving the full length of the parallel bars with plenty of help from Robin. At the end of April she could move the full length and the back again, still with plenty of help. Santana had practically moved into the Pierce’s house and neither of Brittany’s parents seemed to mind. In June she dropped off her last rent check and Brittany made it halfway the length of the parallel bars without Robin’s support. In July, Brittany made it the full length of the bars and Santana was at the end to catch her and kiss her to let her know how proud she was. They celebrated that night. It had been a year since the accident and Brittany had come much further than anyone ever expected her to. She would stand at the kitchen counter and hold on as long as she could between physical therapy sessions, taking a few steps if she felt brave and Santana was there to catch her when her knees gave out.
Santana seemed to notice things coming to a plateau in August. Brittany wasn't going any further on the parallel bars than she had been at the beginning of July, always tiring out before she could move any further. She had kept up her exercises, Santana saw to it. But it wasn't enough.
“While the nerves in your arms are working at full function as is obvious by your remarkable recovery,” Brittany's orthopedic doctor said, taking off his glasses and rubbing the bridge of his nose, “we might not be so lucky with your legs.”
“Meaning?” Santana growled.
“Meaning that this may be as good as it gets, Ms. Lopez. While her spinal cord didn't experience any severe damage, we know there was more damage to the nerves in her lower extremities than her upper.”
“But she can feel everything, she can move. It's her muscles!”
“Muscles and nerves work together. Nerves have to work for muscles to work.”
“So I'm not going to walk?”
“You can keep trying, Brittany. Just don't get your hopes up.”
If Santana wasn't petrified of going to prison, she probably would've killed Brittany's doctor. She called the doctors in New York and had all of Brittany's information sent to them in hopes for an answer from a doctor that didn't also moonlight as a taxidermist. In only a few days they heard back from Dr. Harris what they absolutely did not want to hear. There was nothing else they could do except the physical therapy.
“Spinal research has come a long way,” Dr. Harris said. “But I did what I could, you know that. Just keep working, Brittany. You did more than we thought you ever would, remember that. It may just take some more time for your legs to fully wake up. Nerve damage is unpredictable.”
“When will we know if this is it?” Santana asked with a sigh.
“The body will know. Not the brain, the body.”
It wasn't what either of them wanted to hear but it threw Brittany into a quick tailspin. Santana noticed it right away. Brittany found ways to skip therapy, she would only get frustrated when she did go and give up easily. It killed Santana to see her back where they were a year ago. And it also scared her beyond imagination. She did her best to be out of the bank on time every single night and spent as much time with her girlfriend as she could. The problem was that Brittany wasn't angry this time. She was flat out depressed.
Santana went again to the psychiatrist with Brittany and Brittany agreed to try a higher dosage of her anti-depressant. For a few weeks, Santana and Brittany's parents still had to push her to going to physical therapy but Brittany's demeanor remained the same. She didn't have the drive or determination to do it.
After Brittany's shower, Santana helped her girlfriend dry off (not because Brittany needed the help, Santana just really loved doing it) and get her pajamas on. It was one of the only times during the day that Santana still saw Brittany smile. They went through Brittany's stretches and Santana tried to coax a few exercises out of her girlfriend but to no avail. Brittany only wanted to get into bed. She did so on her own and pulled herself up to sit against the headboard and Santana massaged the blonde's calves.
“Don't bother,” Brittany mumbled. “Doesn't do anything.”
“I know you want to give up but I'm not going to. Besides, I know it feels good.”
“Yeah.”
“Please just keep trying, Britt. Please.” Santana leaned down and pressed a kiss to each of Brittany's knees with the hope and the prayer that something miraculous could happen. “Por favor, Dios,, she whispered, “ayuda a sanar.”
“I wish that worked.”
“Maybe it will.”
“It won't.”
“You don't know that.” Santana pulled the blankets up to Brittany's waist and began putting things away, picking up clothes. “Remember how you were in the beginning, B? You were determined to walk again. Where did that go?”
Brittany shrugged.
Santana sighed and dropped down to the bed again. “Listen, if you want to give up then that’s your choice. But why give up now when you’ve come so far? And if you give up now and then you want to go back for it the harness company isn’t going to pay for it.”
“I know, San. It's just really hard.”
“I know, baby. I know.” Santana leaned forward to kiss her girlfriend, her hand going around the back of Brittany's neck and brushing against the smooth skin of the scar. “I love you, Brittany. I love you so much and you know I'll be here for you no matter what.”
XXXXXXXXXX
Santana came with Brittany to her next physical therapy session, determined to find some way to help her girlfriend despite the fact that she knew almost nothing about the subject. What she did find, though, was a pattern she had never seen before. When Brittany was on the parallel bars she would look for the end. She would get frustrated before she got there and give up when she did.
“Can you take her off the bars?” Santana asked Robin while Brittany was on the stationary bike, cooling down.
“What do you mean?”
“She sees her limits. Take her off of them and she won't see the end. She won't give up if she can't see it.”
Robin smiled. “Gotcha.”
Santana skipped lunch for the next session, just long enough to go in to see how Brittany did without the bars. She got there just in time to see Robin pull Brittany out of her chair by the waist belt and the blonde place her hands on the man's shoulders. She said nothing, only stood in the doorway and watched. And she smirked when she was proven right. Brittany walked all over the floor space, at least the length of three times the parallel bars.
“One more step,” Robin coaxed her. “You'll be doing pirouettes tomorrow.”
“I can't.”
“Do you know how far you walked today, Brittany?”
“A lot,” Santana answered. Brittany was startled, her knees gave a little but Robin pulled her back up. “Britt, you walked a lot more than you did even a few days ago.”
“No I didn't.”
“Yeah you did,” Robin said. “You've never walked this far before.”
XXXXXXXXXX
Without seeing her limits, Brittany was walking more each day; her muscle strength tests kept spiking up. Santana prayed even more, thanking God for performing what Robin said was a miracle. In mid-November, Santana sat on the large exercise table, nervously chewing on her lower lip as Robin practically skipped away and to a storage closet after announcing that he had gotten Brittany a surprise.
“Let's see how you tackle these,” he said, returning with crutches.
“Do they come in pink?” Brittany asked, a little unsure.
Santana only smiled. “You won't need them for very long.”
“Silver is ugly.”
“I’ll spraypaint them,” Santana said. “Now come on.”
“I…I don’t know.”
“Britt, I barely hold on to you anymore. Come on, you got this.”
Santana watched, holding her breath as Brittany slipped her arms through the forearm cuffs and Robin hoisted her upright. The blonde caught her balance and Santana saw her girlfriend’s knuckles turn white as she gripped hard onto the handles. Robin still had his hands around her waist as she got used to the feeling of much less support.
“Try to let a little weight go to your legs, they’re strong enough. You’ll kill your arms if you keep all your weight on them.”
Brittany nodded and Santana saw her relax a little.
“See?” Robin said when Brittany steadied herself again. “You’re stronger than you think. You don’t give yourself enough credit.”
Brittany growled.
“You want to try a step?”
“I think so.”
“I won’t let you fall, give me a little more determination than that.”
Brittany took a deep breath and nodded. “I can do it.”
“Good job,” Robin said with a grin. “Try it.”
Brittany re-adjusted her grip and moved her left arm forward, followed by her right. As soon as she had both rubber grips planted firmly on the floor she moved her left leg, gripped her lower lip between her teeth, and then moved her right. Santana stayed close behind with Brittany’s chair, ready to catch her if she fell.
“How’d that feel?”
“Weird.”
“Get used to it.”
Each time Brittany inched forward, Santana’s smile got bigger. She watched her girlfriend move forward, inch by inch, defying all of her doctors and herself. Santana couldn't help but pull out her phone and take video to send to Quinn and Rachel.
“San, come on,” Brittany whined
“Babe, this is big. I want everyone to see.”
“I'm tired.”
“Alright.” Santana tucked away her phone and held Brittany's chair steady and let the blonde drop down. She could see the disappointment on Brittany's face, not having gone as far as she had been. But it was still a milestone. Santana had tears in her eyes as she bent over to press a kiss to Brittany's neck.
“I want to show you something,” Santana whispered. She pulled Brittany back, halfway across the room while Robin stayed where he was. “That’s how far you went. On your own. You’re not allowed to tell me that you’re not getting better anymore.”
Brittany did a double take as she looked from Robin to Santana.
“I did that?”
“You did that, babe.”
XXXXXXXXXX
“That is magnificent!” Rachel shrieked, nearly piercing Santana's eardrums. “Brittany, you're walking!”
“Not really.”
“Britt,” Quinn chimed in. Santana could practically hear the smiles on the other line. “You walked.”
“We must celebrate,” Rachel said. “We're flying to Lima for Thanksgiving and I demand to have a party. I'll handle all of the arrangements. We'll have a Saturday lunch at my dads' house.”
“Whatever you say, Berry. How are the snot factories? I dropped the birthday cards for the boys in the mail yesterday.”
“The babies are doing very well. They're officially nine months old tomorrow! We're having their pictures done, we'll bring copies with us.”
Santana only smirked. She wouldn't let it slide that she had pictures of all of Quinn and Rachel's kids in her wallet.
XXXXXXXXXX
Things progressed little by little. Brittany took one or two more steps each day before exhausting herself. She was more determined than ever, though. Santana had no problems with that in the least. Brittany had become a little bit more confident and pushed herself with determination. Her New Year's resolution was to walk.
Thanksgiving morning, as John and Anna prepared to receive the Lopez' and the rest of the Pierce family that would be in town for Thanksgiving, Santana and Brittany took over the kitchen. Brittany, standing at the island at her request, did what she could with one free hand as her other gripped onto her crutch.
“B, can you hand me the sage?”
Santana turned just in time to see Brittany grab the container of fresh sage leaves with one hand, her other letting go of the handle on her crutch…and her knees give out. Brittany hit the floor with a loud crash, the bowl with the stuffing coming with her, just as Santana reached to try and catch her. She landed on her side and with a sharp yell, it was the hip they had taken the bone out of and it was still sensitive to pressure, Santana knew. Santana immediately knelt to the ground and ran her hand over Brittany’s cheeks and up to her eyes to wipe the tears from them. Disappointment and anger was clear in the bright blues as Brittany took a shuddering breath and dug her fingertips into the hard tile.
“Are you okay?”
John and Anna appeared in the kitchen in only a moment, both immediately kneeling down. John grabbed his daughter's hand and squeezed.
“What happened?” Anna asked. “Did you slip, honey?”
“I fell,” Brittany mumbled. “I’m fine.”
“Are you sure?”
“I'm fine,” Brittany growled. “I want to sit up.”
Santana instinctively reached her arm underneath her girlfriend and helped pull her up. Shockingly, Brittany let her. The Latina wiped away Brittany's tears yet again, her other hand reaching up to brush over the scar on the back of Brittany's neck.
“Are you sure you're okay?” Anna asked.
Brittany only weakly nodded and moved to swat Santana's hands away. “I said I was fine. I want my chair.”
“B…”
“I want my chair.”
“Come on sweetie,” Anna cooed, “we’ll help you up.”
The next thing Santana knew a flash of silver went hurling past her head and right through the Pierces’ microwave door. Another soon followed and hit the coffee pot right on target sending glass and that morning’s coffee flying. Brittany narrowed her eyes at Santana, daring defiance.
“I’ll get your chair,” John sighed.
“No.” Santana clenched her jaw and stood, damn determined not to let Brittany win, and grabbed a broom. “If she’s going to act like a three-year-old she can sit there and throw her little tantrum but I’m not dealing with that shit. Our kids won’t pull that and neither will she.”
Anna nodded. She grabbed a rag and began mopping up the coffee as Santana swept the glass. The Latina unplugged the microwave and tossed Brittany's discarded crutch on the floor next to the blonde.
“Santana!” Brittany pounded her fist on the floor.
Santana kept sweeping. John backed out of the kitchen with an apologetic look on his face.
“Listen to me!”
“So you plan on giving me grandchildren?” Anna asked with a smile, picking up the dish of stuffing and tossing what had hit the floor into the garbage can.
“Hopefully.”
“Mom!”
Santana watched out of the corner of her eye as Brittany scooted herself forward and grabbed one discarded crutch. She poked her mother with it before screeching and throwing it back to the floor. Santana still ignored her. She and Anna moved to the kitchen counter where Santana began making another batch of stuffing and Anna cut up the vegetables. It took a full seven minutes before Santana knew that Brittany realized no one was going to help her. The blonde growled and reached up for the island counter to pull herself to her knees.
“Do you want some help, B?”
“Get away.”
The muscles in Brittany’s biceps and back flexed as she pulled, reaching across the island to grip onto the partition in the sink to pull herself into a final, almost standing position. The blonde gripped onto the island counters, her legs shaking. Santana picked up the crutches from the floor and offered them out; Brittany grabbed one, steadied herself, and then grabbed the other. She glared at Santana and shook her head at her mother before walking out of the kitchen.
“I hope you’re happy,” she mumbled.
Santana darted around the other side of the island and cut off Brittany’s path. She lifted the blonde’s face up with her hands and tried to blink back the tears threatening to spill over.
“I am happy.”
“You’re mean,” Brittany mumbled.
“You pulled yourself up off the floor without any help. If me being mean is going to make you do that then fine.”
Brittany nodded and Santana did the only thing she could think of to do and that was to pull her girlfriend in and kiss her with everything she had.
Rachel's party was, surprisingly, not an extravagant event. Santana tried not to look too eager as she grabbed Harmony from Quinn and tossed the girl up in the air a few times. She and Brittany settled themselves on the living room floor with Gabriela, Susan, Harmony and Jonah and watched Ethaniel and Adrian swordfight with Brittany's crutches.
“How do you guys do it, seriously?” Santana asked over dinner. Jonah had just thrown a handful peas at Rachel which was, apparently, the most hysterical thing ever to all of the kids. And Santana.
“We wanted a big family,” Rachel said, picking peas from her hair. “We make it work. It takes organization and determination.”
“You're both insane.”
“You'll never love anything more than your own children,” Rachel stated. Jonah threw another handful of peas at her, sending everyone into another fit of laughter. “No matter what they do to you.”
“You'll find out,” Quinn said. “I know Santana wants kids.”
“You know...maybe. I've got a couple other things I want to do first.”
Brittany's eyebrows furrowed in curiosity and Santana could only chuckle. “What else do you want to do?”
“You'll find out, B.”
Quinn and Rachel talked them in to watching the kids for dinner that night. Okay, well, maybe Santana had suggested it...either way, she got to spend time with the kids. They made their own pizzas for dinner and Santana wrestled with Ethaniel and Adrian until both boys fell asleep on the floor. She carried them each up to their room and got them into their pajamas before tucking them in to bed, kissing each of their foreheads before she shut the door. By the time she got back downstairs, Susan had fallen asleep in Brittany's lap while Harmony and Jonah slept peacefully in their playpen.
“Aunt Tana?” Gabriela crawled up on Santana's lap. “I want cousins to play with for Christmas.”
“Uh,” Santana stammered. “Not this year, okay sweetie?”
“Next year?”
“I don't know.” Santana glanced at Brittany. “We'll see.”
“I asked Santa for them. Mommy and Mama said we're not gonna have anymore brothers or sisters but we might have cousins.”
“Sometimes Santa can't do stuff,” Brittany chimed in. “But he'll give you patience.”
By the time Rachel, Quinn, and Rachel's dads got home, Santana was asleep on the kids' bedroom floor, a book on her lap and resting up against Gabriela's bed. She had left Brittany in the living room stretched out on the couch with Susan asleep on top of her. It wasn't a half bad way to end a day, Santana decided when Quinn woke her. She helped Quinn get the twins up to their bedroom, Rachel following behind with Susan while Brittany and the Berry men cleaned up the living room.
“I'm going to ask her to marry me,” Santana whispered, settling Harmony down in the upstairs playpen.
Quinn had to put a hand over Rachel's mouth to muffle the brunette's squeal. Santana only rolled her eyes and swept her fingers through Harmony's blonde hair, smiling at the softness.
“When?” Rachel gasped.
“I don't know yet.”
“Oh Santana!” Rachel whispered. “This is so wonderful!”
“Congratulations, San,” Quinn said, reaching her arms out for a hug. “It's about damn time.”
“I know a fabulous jeweler-”
“I think we'll just do wedding rings,” Santana cut her off. “It's not like finances are tight right now but if we want to move back to New York, we'll need to save up.”
“I think I know of a great apartment for sale,” Quinn said with a smile. “Good neighborhood, four bedrooms, three and a half bathrooms, spacious kitchen and family room...”
“I'll let you know, Q.”