There's Always Brooklyn - Chapter Twenty
Title: There's Always Brooklyn
Author: Sio and Maura
Artist: raingoddess2040
Type: AU Post On My Way, future femslash with a het side pairing
Word Count: 195,092
Rating: NC-17 for later chapters
Characters/Pairings: Rachel/Santana, Quinn/OMC, past Quinn/Rachel, Santana/Brittany, near miss Quinn/Santana, Quinn/Rachel
Warnings (highlight to read): Explicit sexual content in later chapters, talk of presumed non-con (no actual), minor off-screen violence, strong language, external/general homophobia, child (not kink), parenting (not kink)
Summary: Six years ago, Santana Lopez disappeared following graduation. The costs for therapy and rehab to get out of her chair, made Quinn Fabray realize she couldn't have Yale, so she went with her second acceptance - NYU. Rachel Berry missed out on NYADA but made it into Tisch, only to find herself as roommates with Quinn after tearing herself away from Finn to go to New York. Eventually a gin soaked night led to a tormented relationship that eventually was surrendered to save their fading friendship. When Rachel finally managed to land a Broadway lead under Quinn's management, they were shocked by who showed up for the latest opening as Rachel's assistant.
What neither of them had ever expected was that she'd have a child with her. One she'd ran away to New York to be able to have without the shame Quinn had gone through.
Chapter Twenty
Rachel was sitting in her room at her desk working on her monthly finances when her phone rang. Curious, she got up and headed into the living room to pick it up, noticing Quinn’s office number on the ID as she thumbed the answer icon. She was fairly certain that it was Quinn calling her, but there was no need to give up on propriety so close to the opening coming up next week.
“Rachel Berry’s phone, Rachel speaking,” she murmured, holding it against her ear.
"Hey," Quinn said as she leaned back in her chair. "What are you doing?" She asked as she flipped through her planner. "You getting ready for that premiere tonight?"
“Hello, Quinn. I’m fairly certain that’s next week,” Rachel was fairly sure she was correct but a tiny hint of uncertainty entered her voice as she moved to check her planner. “It is next week, right?”
"Jesus, is your assistant ruining your brain?" Quinn exclaimed, "I know I sent her to training but she shouldn't slack off..."
“This isn’t Santana’s fault!” Rachel exclaimed, shuffling through her papers, “I was paying bills for the month. Calm down, Quinn. Crap! It is tonight!” She hurried over to her closet, “I was certain it was next week, I don’t have anything prepared!”
"Santana put your dress in the closet," Quinn said, "I’ll send the makeup guy over with the car and your date."
“Oh thank you, Quinn, you’re a lifesaver,” she cried, flopping down on the bed. After a moment though, it sank in what Quinn had said. “Wait... date? What date?”
"You can't go stag," Quinn explained. "I have a date for you... He's nice, you know him, he's starring in that new play at the Berrymore. Ray Gomez?"
“Quinn, we’ve discussed this,” Rachel stood up and started pacing. “There is absolutely nothing wrong with a woman attending an event unaccompanied. This is 2018 for Barbra’s sake! I am not a retiring flower who needs protecting by a man! I don’t need to be paraded about on the arm of some... some man as if I’m incapable of fending for myself or, worse, are intended as little more than some piece of... of decoration instead of the independent and intelligent woman I am!”
“Yes, Rachel.” Quinn sighed, “I’m aware that you are quite the woman... But, it’s a PR thing. Ray is the star of his show and you are the star of yours. You’re going to go and see his new show with him, two breakout stars going to a new show to support their community. You're doing it."
"Do you have any idea the sort of detriment to the feminist movement you are causing by forcing me to attend not only with a man but a man I barely even know?" Rachel fumed. "And you know how those vile gossip sites are! I'll be labelled as fucking him by the end of the night!"
“Would some good press kill you?” Quinn mumbled, “Look, just go and have some fun. You haven’t had any in forever.”
“How is it good press to be sexually tied to someone I barely even know, Quinn?” She was frustrated and upset as she paced around the room. It felt entirely too much like cheating on Santana, even if it had been months and they still couldn’t define what they were doing. “Why is it so important for me to go with him anyway? Why can’t we both go stag?”
“Because, his manager and I spoke and we think it’s a good idea.” Quinn replied as she sighed, “Look, we need you to get some good press. I can’t get you jobs if no one knows who you are so please just go and have a good time. They’ll be cameras and wine.”
“Oh, wonderful. So I can start rumors about being easy and a drunk!” Rachel threw up her hands, despite there being no one there to see her. “I promised to go to this event! Why do I have to deal with you and Ray Gomez’s manager making decisions about my personal life on top of it?!”
“Because you need to start doing public events with more famous people to get noticed. I’m sorry, Rach. You don’t need to date him or do anything... Just show up with him. It’s not a big deal.”
“Maybe for you it’s not a big deal,” she muttered, flopping back down on the bed. “You’re not the one who’s going to find herself suddenly listed as sleeping with Ray Gomez. And how nice to know you’re pimping me out to more famous people who are only just starting out. Couldn’t find any lecherous old men to pawn me off on?”
“You know this is how it’s done,” Quinn sighed. “You know I don’t want to do this to you, but Ray is in a bigger show and the press follows him around right now. He’s a good guy and he won’t be a cad to you.”
“Yes, I know how this boys’ club is run,” Rachel huffed. “And I know as a woman I can’t be allowed to succeed without being on the arm of a man. But you don’t know Ray Gomez any more than I do. You don’t know he won’t be a cad. But most of all, I know you didn’t have to wait until four hours before the stupid premiere to tell me that I’m not good enough to attend a movie’s opening alone!”
“It’s not that you’re not good enough! You take a date to a movie premiere and we set one up for you since... look, I didn’t tell you because you would have backed out... and I wanted Santana to be out of the picture to tell you, okay?”
Rachel frowned at the phone. “What does Santana have to do with any of this? Beyond the fact that she doubtlessly would agree with my distaste of being used to make someone else look better.”
“No, we’re using him to get you noticed more by the press. You’re known on Broadway but it’s not just that anymore. We need to get people interested... Rachel, you know this is part of the job.” Quinn explained, “Look, I’m not dealing with you and Santana’s crap. But if it’s going to disrupt my job and your work... then we might have a problem.”
“Santana and I don’t have any crap, Quinn,” her eyes narrowed at the phone. “I know this is part of the job but there’s no reason I have to like it. But, Quinn,” her voice hardened, “if this... if my being more exposed messes up my ability to have Brooklyn in my life, I will never forgive you.”
“Do you want to be an actress or a mom, Rachel?” Quinn snapped, “I know you probably don’t like me much right now, but I’m your manager. You need to listen to me unless you decided to stop wanting to go into film and television and make a name for yourself.”
“You’re right. I don’t like you at all right now,” she whispered into the phone. “Fine. I’ll do this. And at the end of the day, please recall how you put PR above my getting to have people I care about with me when you’re watching this stupid premiere at home with Jay.” Hanging up the phone she threw it across the room with an angry yell.
“I’m doing this for your career,” Quinn said softly as she put the phone down and worked on finishing setting up the night.
A week later found Rachel curled on her bed, staring blankly at the mid-morning light coming in the window. She didn’t want to move. She hadn’t seen Brooklyn or Santana since the inevitable papers came out linking her to Ray Gomez and she figured she probably deserved it.
On the bed by her hand was a glossy magazine with a lurid photo of her in what appeared to be a lip lock with Mr Gomez. It didn’t show how she’d pushed him away immediately after unhappily and stormed off with him following. Her phone hadn’t rang since she’d replaced it except for Quinn’s number, but she was still mad at her and just disconnected each time. The only time she’d interacted with her friend - former friend? She wasn’t sure yet - was when she’d been cornered at the theater to sign off on a contract Quinn had drawn up regarding her role as romantic lead opposite Ray in an upcoming movie.
She scoffed and shook her head. No wonder the date angle had been pushed so hard. Of course. It made perfect sense now. Sell her to get good ratings for a movie.
When the phone rang, she scrambled for it the same as she had each time it rang this past week. But the ID on her phone just showed a local area code number that she didn’t recognize. Confused, she thumbed it on and pressed it to her ear.
“This is Rachel Berry’s phone. Rachel speaking,” she murmured. “Can I help you?”
“Hi, Ms Berry?” The woman on the other end of the phone said, “My name is Mrs. Chen, I’m the nurse at the school your goddaughter Brooklyn Lopez goes too?”
“Goddaughter?” she blinked confusedly, “I’m Jewish. I can’t be anyone’s godmother. It’s a Christian thing. But, yes, yes. Is Brooklyn okay?”
“Oh. Her mother changed her emergency contact sheet a few weeks back,” The nurse said confused, “I need to get a hold of Mrs. Lopez and I can’t seem to reach her.”
“Oh. I’m,” she thought for a moment, “her aunt. I’m adopted, so Santana probably just checked the wrong box. What’s wrong though? Santana’s in training for work all week. Is something wrong with Brooklyn?”
“Well, your niece is not feeling well. She has a fever which means someone needs to take her home.” Mrs. Chen said, “Can you locate her mother?”
“Probably not for another few hours, though I can certainly try.” She started moving to get properly dressed, “However I can be there in twenty minutes - thirty if traffic’s bad. If you check, you’ll find I’m on the list of people authorized to pick her up.”
After a moment of quiet, and what sounded like Brooklyn demanding Rachel in the background Mrs. Chen came back, “Okay, she will be in the nurse’s office which is right by the main office.”
“I’ll be there shortly,” she replied, thumbing the phone off and quickly throwing clothes on before grabbing her keys and running out the door.
“Brooklyn?” Rachel called softly twenty three minutes later, knocking on the door to the nurse’s office. “Are you here?”
The middle aged woman looked up from her paperwork and smiled, “You must be Ms. Berry?” She said as she stood up and walked over to the smaller woman. “Yvonne Chen.”
Rachel held out her hand to shake the older woman’s. “Yes. Rachel Berry. Pleased to meet you. Is she okay?”
“There is a bug going around the school. A few of her classmates went home yesterday with the same thing. She has a headache and a low fever which means I have to send her home.”
“That’s terrible,” she sighed, looking around for the girl. “I’ll take care of her until her mother gets home though. Brooklyn?” she called again. “Is she napping?”
Yvonne pointed to the small ball under the blanket on the bed in the corner. “Do you need me to call you a cab?” She asked as she handed Rachel the sign out sheet.
“No, I’ve got one waiting,” she replied absent-mindedly as she signed. “Thank you though.” Handing the clipboard back, she moved to crouch beside the bed Brooklyn was in. “Sweetie, Rachie’s here. I’m going to take you home okay?” she whispered softly, pulling the blanket back.
“Mommy?” Brooklyn whispered as she rolled over an searched for someone’s arms. “My head hurts.”
Rachel pulled her into her arms, “Not Mommy, sweetie. Just Rachie. Let’s take you home and have an ice pop, okay?”
Brooklyn nodded and snuggled into the woman. “Mommy home?”
“Not yet. Do you think you’ll be okay with just me for a few hours?” she asked softly standing and heading for the door.
“Yes,” Brooklyn whimpered before laying her head on Rachel’s chest.
“Okay, sweetie,” she smiled softly and kissing her warm head as she walked past Mrs Chen. “Thank you for taking care of her, Mrs. Chen. Her mother and I both appreciate it.”
Brooklyn had been changed out of her uniform and into her black and purple pajama set and slippers. She sat on the couch leaning against a pillow with one arm wrapped around her teddy bear as she sucked on her popsicle. “Why does my head hurt?” she asked as she looked up at Rachel with her big brown eyes.
“I don’t know, sweetie,” Rachel responded honestly, coming in to sit down beside her and stroke her hair back. “I think it might be because you’re a little too warm and it’s making you feel icky though. Is it just your head that hurts?”
“My arms and legs feel funny, like they do when I’m in the pool.” She pouted, her head lolling to the side on Rachel’s shoulder.
She wrapped an arm around the little girl, cuddling her close. “Funny how? Like... wrinkly? Like when you’ve been in the water too long?”
“Like heavy.” She sighed. “Didn’t feel bad when mommy took me to school,” she pouted, “It was music day.”
“We can have music day here,” Rachel offered. “Maybe if your Mommy’s not home in a couple hours and you’re not feeling any worse, you can come with me to the theater if you promise to be good. How’s that sound?”
“The place where I meeted you?” She asked moving to lay with her head in Rachel’s lap.
“Mmmhmm,” she murmured, brushing her fingers through Brooklyn’s hair. “You weren’t feeling well that day either.”
“I get sicks a lot.” Brooklyn pouted, “I don’t like.”
“I don’t think anyone likes getting sick, sweetie,” Rachel teased her. “And your mom and I don’t like you getting sick most of all. Is there anything I can do to make you feel a little better?”
“My mommy reads me the stories she writes,” She said, “But they’s at home.” she cuddled her bear onto her chest and looked up. “Can you sing?”
She laughed softly, “Of course I can sing. That’s what I do for work, you know. I sing and act. I didn’t know your mommy wrote stories though. Are they any good?”
The little girl nodded, “She writes and draws me books. She also writes big people stuff but I can’t read them.” She pouted and sighed, she didn’t like being sick without her mom. “Can you sing to me?”
“Maybe you can show me some of the books she made for you some time,” Rachel murmured. “But of course I can sing to you. I love singing. What would you like me to sing? Do you have a favorite song?”
Brooklyn shook her head no, “Mommy sings that...” she got caught off guard with a sneeze before she finished her thought. “Can you sing your favorite song?”
She smirked, “You really want to hear Don’t Rain On My Parade? Did your Mommy ever tell you we once won a very important contest where I got to sing that and then sing with her and all of our friends?”
She nodded, “Soft song.” Brooklyn said as she took Rachel’s hand. “Like the one you and mommy singed to me.”
“Hmm,” she murmured. “Maybe not that one then.” She winked at her, “It’s more for big stages. Don’t tell your Mommy, but my daddies recorded all of our Glee club performances and I can ask them to mail me copies if you want to see your mommy singing with me some day.” She thought about a good song to sing a sick little girl.
“I wants to see.” She smiled, “You should have a little baby so I can be its friend,” Brooklyn mumbled, “I don’t like my friends...”
“Maybe someday,” Rachel smiled lightly. “Why don’t you like your friends?”
“They mean,” she cuddled into Rachel, “Mommy said they just jealous.”
“How are they mean?” she asked softly.
Brooklyn sniffle and crawled into her lap, needing the comfort. “Can you sing? Please?”
“Sure,” she whispered, kissing the top of her head and wrapping her arms about her before beginning to sing softly. “He went to sea, for the day. He wanted to know what to say. When he’s asked what he’d done in the past to someone that he loved endlessly. Now she’s gone and so is he.”
The sick child just clung to Rachel and sniffled. She wanted her mom. She had never been sick without her. Tears that were a mixture of sadness, fever and distress rolled down her cheeks.
Rachel finished the song and cuddled Brooklyn to her chest. “Don’t cry, sweetie. I know you want your mom and I know she wants to be here with you too. But I promise I’ll take care of you. I promise, okay? Do you want to take a cool bath? Maybe it’ll help with your head ache... you can have bubbles if you want.”
“Okay,” Brooklyn whimpered, “Mommy won’t forget me? Because she work now, she won’t forget?”
“She could never forget you, Brooklyn,” she murmured, getting a grip on the girl and heading into the bathroom to run a cool bath with bubbles. “Just like I could never forget you. We both love you very much, sweetie.”
“She’s always here,” she sniffled. “She knows how to make me not sick.” She looked down, almost like she was lost without Santana.
“I wish I knew how to make you not sick too,” she sighed, helping get her out of her pajamas so she could climb in the tub. “I’m not a very good stand-in for your mom, I guess.”
“Love you too...” Brooklyn said as she climbed in, sitting down and listlessly ran her hand through the bubbles.
“I love you too,” Rachel leaned over and kissed the top of her head before picking up a cup and pouring a little of the cool water over her shoulders. “Do you want a duckie to play with?”
“No, thank you,” Brooklyn said as she rubbed her eyes. “Can I sleep at your work?”
“Sure you can. We’ll even bring your favorite blanket and you’ve napped on the couch in my dressing room before, remember?” Rachel smiled at her, continuing to sluice water over her hot little body to cool it off. “And your mom checks in with me to see if I need anything before getting ready to pick you up from school, so she’ll come to the theater first and we can tell her to turn her phone back on, right?”
“She’d be scared if I’m not there or with Ms. Rita.” Brooklyn said and she leaned into the water. “Can I bring my bear? And wear my jammies?”
“Definitely on both accounts and you’ll be with me, so she’ll know you’re safe.” She sluiced a little of the cool water over Brooklyn’s head, being careful not to pour it in her eyes, “Because I’d die before I let anything happen to you, sweetheart.”
Brooklyn smiled, “Wish mommy and I could stay with you forever.”
Rachel’s breath caught slightly but she just smiled and nodded. “I wish that too, Brooklyn. I wish I could spend the rest of my life with you and your mommy. You’re my best friends you know. You’re my family,” she pointed out, adding a moment later, “like Quinn is.”
“Then you no go away.” she said, “We happy with you.”
“As long as your mommy wants me around, I’ll be right here. Promise,” she smiled at her. “You feeling any better with your bath?”
“Sleepy,” she said, “Can I have ginger ale?” she asked, “Mommy let’s me have it when I’m sick.”
She thought about it for a moment. “Okay, but just a little. Then we’ll take a nap before going to the theater okay?”
Brooklyn nodded and rubbed her nose after a large sneeze. “Ouch.”
“I think someone needs a tissue and maybe a Chilly Bear to snuggle with. Lucky for you, mine’s been hiding in my freezer cause I like cold when my head hurts. So, let’s get you dressed and snuggled in bed while I get Mr Chilly and set my alarm so we can nap. Sound good?”
"Kay," Brooklyn said as she stood up and lifted her arms for Rachel to pick her up.
She grabbed a towel off the rack and wrapped it around Brooklyn, pulling her out of the tub before unstopping the drain. “Maybe you’ll feel better after a nap?” she suggested, toweling her dry before grabbing her clothes and heading into the bedroom to set her on the bed. “Okay, get dressed and I’l be right back with Mr Chilly to cuddle you. Alright?”
Brooklyn got dressed slowly and then crawled into the bed. She flopped down on the covers and pouted when she rolled around and couldn’t find a spot that smelled like her mom's perfume like she normally did when they slept over.
“You okay, sweetie?” Rachel asked softly, coming back into the room with a red Chilly Bear and her phone. Setting the phone on the nightstand and handing Brooklyn the bear, she reached down and stroked her hair. “Do you need something?”
"Your bed don't smell like mommy anymore." She whispered, "I don't like that."
“I don’t like it either,” Rachel murmured, moving to her closet. “You two haven’t stayed with me recently. I’ve missed you.” She pulled a sweater out of her closet and smelled it, smiling when her nose caught the scent of her lover’s perfume. “Here we go.” She pulled the sweater on then crawled into bed, “How’s that?”
Brooklyn smiled, "Better," She said as she cuddled into Rachel. "Mommy's bed smells like you, I like it."
Rachel smiled softly, holding the girl close. “Even now? I haven’t been there in over a week.”
"She has a pillow and it smells like Rachie's hair." Brooklyn shrugged, "I like when you there, makes mommy happy."
“I like making your mommy happy,” she murmured, brushing her fingers through Brooklyn’s hair. “Seeing her smile makes me happy. Being with the two of you makes me happy.”
"Do you love Mommy?" She asked, her voice lazy with exhustion.
She nodded slowly, leaning down to kiss the top of her head. “More than anything,” she whispered, listening to the little girl’s breath start evening out.
Brooklyn cuddled up to the cold bear and Rachel, her fever addled body submitting to the lure of sleep.
A couple of hours later, Brooklyn seemed to be feeling a little better, so they bundled her up with proper shoes and a jacket and headed out the door with a bag full of coloring books, crayons, and a neatly folded blanket with a monkey cup and a bottle of Pedialyte they picked up on the way to the theater. Getting the sick little girl settled on her dressing room couch took a little longer, but it reassured Rachel to be able to duck in and check on her whenever she got off stage. That afternoon’s performance was one of the more hectic between running - occasionally literally - between the stage and her dressing room, but even with asking Jimmy to keep an eye on the room and get her if Brooklyn needed anything, she felt better being able to see she was okay for herself.
Brooklyn laid on the couch, her body wrapped in her blanket and her head propped up on a pillow as she watched The Jungle Book on Rachel's laptop. She had been dozing on and off the last half of Rachel's show.
Santana came in the dressing room, not aware of her daughter’s presence until she heard a faint, "Hi, Mommy." Her head snapped around and she ran to her daughter’s side.
"Baby? Why are you here? Are you okay," She asked as she pressed a kiss to her head, "Oh, baby..." She cooed as she realized that she had a fever.
“I don’t feel good, Mommy,” Brooklyn pouted, reaching up for a hug. “Mrs Chen tried to call you but you didn’t answer. Rachie came and got me but I missed you, Mommy.”
"I'm so sorry," She said as she pulled her daughter in her arms, "I'm so sorry, mommy should have had her phone on. Baby, what can I do? Can i make you feel better?"
“Hugs,” she whimpered. “Rachie don’t know how to make me not sick, Mommy.”
"I know baby," she whispered and bundled her daughter up like a baby, "Make you my baby burrito like when you were little first, right?" Santana smiled as she wrapped her up and cradled her, "Then hold you next to my heart so you know mommy loves you and will make you better."
“Uh-huh,” she nodded, snuggling in against her mom with a soft sigh. “Rachie doesn’t know how. Love you, Mommy.”
They had a few minutes snuggled together in the relative peace of Rachel’s dressing room before the owner of the room came back after the final curtain. “Brooklyn?” she called softly, slipping into the room, unaware Santana was there. “How are you feeling, sweetie?”
Santana looked up, obviously distressed and upset. "She's fine, I'm here now." She said as she rocked her daughter back and forth.
“Oh my gosh!” Rachel pulled off the outer layer of her costume and tossed it over the back of her chair before hurrying over. “You’re here! Thank Barbara. Are you okay? We couldn’t get in touch with you at all and I was beginning to fear the worst when you weren’t here by the intermission.”
"Quinn sent me to that stupid fucking training when I should have been here with my daughter." She said in a angry whisper. "I should have been here to pick her up. My daughter is sick."
“Yes, I’m aware,” Rachel stood up and started pulling off the last of the costume so she could change into her yoga pants and t-shirt to head home. “But I picked her up and made sure she had fluids and got cooled down. If you hadn’t been back by now, I would have told them to use Jan in tonight’s performance and taken her to the children’s clinic to get checked out.”
"You can't take her to the children’s clinic, you don't know her insurance... or her doctor or her medical needs!" Santana snapped.
Rachel jerked, taken aback by the harsh tone. “Forgive me for trying to take care of a child I happen to love, Santana! Perhaps I’m not perfect, but I was doing my best!”
Santana rocked her daughter, obviously shaken that she hadn't been able to pick her up and didn't even know she was sick. "I'm her mom." She said , "It should be me picking her up and making her better."
“Well, this time you weren’t able to, but I was.” She shrugged, not thinking it was a major problem. “She was safe with me and I simply took care of her until you could get here. I know you’re her mom, Santana.”
"It's my job.." She said, "Not... not this. Not going to training... not doing all of Quinn shit." She exclaimed, "Brooklyn is my job."
“And how are you going to take care of her without a job?” Rachel raised a brow. “She’s just got a cold. It happens to children, Santana. Even I know that. And I was more than happy to be able to be there for her while you were unavailable, just like her sitter does only I could watch her while she was sick. It’s not a big deal, Santana.”
"She's sick." Santana said as she pressed kisses to her daughters head, "I'm taking her home she shouldn't be here when she's sick." She stood up carefully with the little one and grabbed her bag. "I need to take her home."
“Do you need any help?” Rachel asked softly, already prepared to tell the director to call the understudy for her part to cover the evening show.
"You have your job." Santana said, "You should do it... I can do mine."
Rachel froze. “I know I do. I... I was just offering to help the people I lo...care about...”
"I know..." She whispered looked distressed, "I... I need to focus on her. I haven't been... I've been focusing on everything else... I need to focus on her."
“Oh,” she whispered. “I suppose I’d just be a distraction then. Will,” she took a breath, not enjoying how she was feeling, but deciding not to focus on it too closely, “will I see you next week then? Monday maybe?”
Santana blinked away the tears, "I... I told you I wouldn't be able to do this." She whispered regretfully, "I... I'll see you on Monday." She sniffled and put her daughter higher up in her arms.
“I’m not asking for the world, Santana,” Rachel looked up, smiling sadly. “All I want is to know you care about me. I’ve missed you. Brooklyn too. I’ll... I’ll give up the rest if it means you’ll still be my friend...”
"I've been forgetting my daughter." Santana sighed, "She's the most important thing in the world..."
“I know that,” she shrugged. “Look, if,” she swallowed, not wanting to offer, but seeing no other choice, “if you want to stop what we’re doing... I’ll understand. Just, please... don’t stop being my friend too. Quinn’s pushing me in front of the media more and,” she shook her head, “I really don’t want to lose my friends, Santana...”
"More.. media?" she asked nervously. "You... you know that I can't do that," she whispered and looked at Brooklyn's sleeping face. "I can't do that... you know that you need to do it for your career."
“I know,” she slumped, thinking she was losing not only her almost-but-not-quite girlfriend but also her friendship with the little family and feeling sick. “I... I understand.” She laughed sadly, dropping down in her chair. “I told Quinn this would happen but she insisted. It’s okay, Santana. You have to do what’s right for your child.”
"I'm still your assistant and your friend," she whispered. "You're kinda the other part of my world and I can't lose you..." She sniffled. "You know that I can't risk my daughter."
“I know.” She bit her lip, shrugging. “I know you can’t. I understand. It,” she took a breath, trying not to break down, but her voice was soft, “it was bound to happen eventually, I guess...”
"I'm sorry." Santana whispered, leaning forward and pressing her lips to Rachel’s. "Please don't be upset."
“How can I be upset?” She did her best to smile as Santana pulled away. “You’re keeping Brooklyn safe. I don’t have any right to be upset faced with that.” She turned away to keep the tears that kept threatening the more she looked at Santana and Brooklyn from spilling. “I guess you should go take care of your daughter now,” she whispered, doing her best to keep her breaking heart from coloring her voice. "Take as much time as you need. I think I can handle my schedule on my own for a few days.”
"I'm sorry," Santana whimpered. "Thank you for looking after her when I couldn't." She took a breath and carried her out of the room and headed back to their apartment.
Finally alone, Rachel let the tears she’d been holding back out. Her arms wrapped around her stomach as she doubled over, sobbing nearly silently against the empty feeling in her chest. They’d been all she had now that Quinn was wrapped up with Jay but she gave them up to keep Brooklyn safe. She did it because she loved them, but it still hurt worse than anything she’d done before.
Chapter Twenty-One
Author: Sio and Maura
Artist: raingoddess2040
Type: AU Post On My Way, future femslash with a het side pairing
Word Count: 195,092
Rating: NC-17 for later chapters
Characters/Pairings: Rachel/Santana, Quinn/OMC, past Quinn/Rachel, Santana/Brittany, near miss Quinn/Santana, Quinn/Rachel
Warnings (highlight to read): Explicit sexual content in later chapters, talk of presumed non-con (no actual), minor off-screen violence, strong language, external/general homophobia, child (not kink), parenting (not kink)
Summary: Six years ago, Santana Lopez disappeared following graduation. The costs for therapy and rehab to get out of her chair, made Quinn Fabray realize she couldn't have Yale, so she went with her second acceptance - NYU. Rachel Berry missed out on NYADA but made it into Tisch, only to find herself as roommates with Quinn after tearing herself away from Finn to go to New York. Eventually a gin soaked night led to a tormented relationship that eventually was surrendered to save their fading friendship. When Rachel finally managed to land a Broadway lead under Quinn's management, they were shocked by who showed up for the latest opening as Rachel's assistant.
What neither of them had ever expected was that she'd have a child with her. One she'd ran away to New York to be able to have without the shame Quinn had gone through.
Chapter Twenty
Rachel was sitting in her room at her desk working on her monthly finances when her phone rang. Curious, she got up and headed into the living room to pick it up, noticing Quinn’s office number on the ID as she thumbed the answer icon. She was fairly certain that it was Quinn calling her, but there was no need to give up on propriety so close to the opening coming up next week.
“Rachel Berry’s phone, Rachel speaking,” she murmured, holding it against her ear.
"Hey," Quinn said as she leaned back in her chair. "What are you doing?" She asked as she flipped through her planner. "You getting ready for that premiere tonight?"
“Hello, Quinn. I’m fairly certain that’s next week,” Rachel was fairly sure she was correct but a tiny hint of uncertainty entered her voice as she moved to check her planner. “It is next week, right?”
"Jesus, is your assistant ruining your brain?" Quinn exclaimed, "I know I sent her to training but she shouldn't slack off..."
“This isn’t Santana’s fault!” Rachel exclaimed, shuffling through her papers, “I was paying bills for the month. Calm down, Quinn. Crap! It is tonight!” She hurried over to her closet, “I was certain it was next week, I don’t have anything prepared!”
"Santana put your dress in the closet," Quinn said, "I’ll send the makeup guy over with the car and your date."
“Oh thank you, Quinn, you’re a lifesaver,” she cried, flopping down on the bed. After a moment though, it sank in what Quinn had said. “Wait... date? What date?”
"You can't go stag," Quinn explained. "I have a date for you... He's nice, you know him, he's starring in that new play at the Berrymore. Ray Gomez?"
“Quinn, we’ve discussed this,” Rachel stood up and started pacing. “There is absolutely nothing wrong with a woman attending an event unaccompanied. This is 2018 for Barbra’s sake! I am not a retiring flower who needs protecting by a man! I don’t need to be paraded about on the arm of some... some man as if I’m incapable of fending for myself or, worse, are intended as little more than some piece of... of decoration instead of the independent and intelligent woman I am!”
“Yes, Rachel.” Quinn sighed, “I’m aware that you are quite the woman... But, it’s a PR thing. Ray is the star of his show and you are the star of yours. You’re going to go and see his new show with him, two breakout stars going to a new show to support their community. You're doing it."
"Do you have any idea the sort of detriment to the feminist movement you are causing by forcing me to attend not only with a man but a man I barely even know?" Rachel fumed. "And you know how those vile gossip sites are! I'll be labelled as fucking him by the end of the night!"
“Would some good press kill you?” Quinn mumbled, “Look, just go and have some fun. You haven’t had any in forever.”
“How is it good press to be sexually tied to someone I barely even know, Quinn?” She was frustrated and upset as she paced around the room. It felt entirely too much like cheating on Santana, even if it had been months and they still couldn’t define what they were doing. “Why is it so important for me to go with him anyway? Why can’t we both go stag?”
“Because, his manager and I spoke and we think it’s a good idea.” Quinn replied as she sighed, “Look, we need you to get some good press. I can’t get you jobs if no one knows who you are so please just go and have a good time. They’ll be cameras and wine.”
“Oh, wonderful. So I can start rumors about being easy and a drunk!” Rachel threw up her hands, despite there being no one there to see her. “I promised to go to this event! Why do I have to deal with you and Ray Gomez’s manager making decisions about my personal life on top of it?!”
“Because you need to start doing public events with more famous people to get noticed. I’m sorry, Rach. You don’t need to date him or do anything... Just show up with him. It’s not a big deal.”
“Maybe for you it’s not a big deal,” she muttered, flopping back down on the bed. “You’re not the one who’s going to find herself suddenly listed as sleeping with Ray Gomez. And how nice to know you’re pimping me out to more famous people who are only just starting out. Couldn’t find any lecherous old men to pawn me off on?”
“You know this is how it’s done,” Quinn sighed. “You know I don’t want to do this to you, but Ray is in a bigger show and the press follows him around right now. He’s a good guy and he won’t be a cad to you.”
“Yes, I know how this boys’ club is run,” Rachel huffed. “And I know as a woman I can’t be allowed to succeed without being on the arm of a man. But you don’t know Ray Gomez any more than I do. You don’t know he won’t be a cad. But most of all, I know you didn’t have to wait until four hours before the stupid premiere to tell me that I’m not good enough to attend a movie’s opening alone!”
“It’s not that you’re not good enough! You take a date to a movie premiere and we set one up for you since... look, I didn’t tell you because you would have backed out... and I wanted Santana to be out of the picture to tell you, okay?”
Rachel frowned at the phone. “What does Santana have to do with any of this? Beyond the fact that she doubtlessly would agree with my distaste of being used to make someone else look better.”
“No, we’re using him to get you noticed more by the press. You’re known on Broadway but it’s not just that anymore. We need to get people interested... Rachel, you know this is part of the job.” Quinn explained, “Look, I’m not dealing with you and Santana’s crap. But if it’s going to disrupt my job and your work... then we might have a problem.”
“Santana and I don’t have any crap, Quinn,” her eyes narrowed at the phone. “I know this is part of the job but there’s no reason I have to like it. But, Quinn,” her voice hardened, “if this... if my being more exposed messes up my ability to have Brooklyn in my life, I will never forgive you.”
“Do you want to be an actress or a mom, Rachel?” Quinn snapped, “I know you probably don’t like me much right now, but I’m your manager. You need to listen to me unless you decided to stop wanting to go into film and television and make a name for yourself.”
“You’re right. I don’t like you at all right now,” she whispered into the phone. “Fine. I’ll do this. And at the end of the day, please recall how you put PR above my getting to have people I care about with me when you’re watching this stupid premiere at home with Jay.” Hanging up the phone she threw it across the room with an angry yell.
“I’m doing this for your career,” Quinn said softly as she put the phone down and worked on finishing setting up the night.
A week later found Rachel curled on her bed, staring blankly at the mid-morning light coming in the window. She didn’t want to move. She hadn’t seen Brooklyn or Santana since the inevitable papers came out linking her to Ray Gomez and she figured she probably deserved it.
On the bed by her hand was a glossy magazine with a lurid photo of her in what appeared to be a lip lock with Mr Gomez. It didn’t show how she’d pushed him away immediately after unhappily and stormed off with him following. Her phone hadn’t rang since she’d replaced it except for Quinn’s number, but she was still mad at her and just disconnected each time. The only time she’d interacted with her friend - former friend? She wasn’t sure yet - was when she’d been cornered at the theater to sign off on a contract Quinn had drawn up regarding her role as romantic lead opposite Ray in an upcoming movie.
She scoffed and shook her head. No wonder the date angle had been pushed so hard. Of course. It made perfect sense now. Sell her to get good ratings for a movie.
When the phone rang, she scrambled for it the same as she had each time it rang this past week. But the ID on her phone just showed a local area code number that she didn’t recognize. Confused, she thumbed it on and pressed it to her ear.
“This is Rachel Berry’s phone. Rachel speaking,” she murmured. “Can I help you?”
“Hi, Ms Berry?” The woman on the other end of the phone said, “My name is Mrs. Chen, I’m the nurse at the school your goddaughter Brooklyn Lopez goes too?”
“Goddaughter?” she blinked confusedly, “I’m Jewish. I can’t be anyone’s godmother. It’s a Christian thing. But, yes, yes. Is Brooklyn okay?”
“Oh. Her mother changed her emergency contact sheet a few weeks back,” The nurse said confused, “I need to get a hold of Mrs. Lopez and I can’t seem to reach her.”
“Oh. I’m,” she thought for a moment, “her aunt. I’m adopted, so Santana probably just checked the wrong box. What’s wrong though? Santana’s in training for work all week. Is something wrong with Brooklyn?”
“Well, your niece is not feeling well. She has a fever which means someone needs to take her home.” Mrs. Chen said, “Can you locate her mother?”
“Probably not for another few hours, though I can certainly try.” She started moving to get properly dressed, “However I can be there in twenty minutes - thirty if traffic’s bad. If you check, you’ll find I’m on the list of people authorized to pick her up.”
After a moment of quiet, and what sounded like Brooklyn demanding Rachel in the background Mrs. Chen came back, “Okay, she will be in the nurse’s office which is right by the main office.”
“I’ll be there shortly,” she replied, thumbing the phone off and quickly throwing clothes on before grabbing her keys and running out the door.
“Brooklyn?” Rachel called softly twenty three minutes later, knocking on the door to the nurse’s office. “Are you here?”
The middle aged woman looked up from her paperwork and smiled, “You must be Ms. Berry?” She said as she stood up and walked over to the smaller woman. “Yvonne Chen.”
Rachel held out her hand to shake the older woman’s. “Yes. Rachel Berry. Pleased to meet you. Is she okay?”
“There is a bug going around the school. A few of her classmates went home yesterday with the same thing. She has a headache and a low fever which means I have to send her home.”
“That’s terrible,” she sighed, looking around for the girl. “I’ll take care of her until her mother gets home though. Brooklyn?” she called again. “Is she napping?”
Yvonne pointed to the small ball under the blanket on the bed in the corner. “Do you need me to call you a cab?” She asked as she handed Rachel the sign out sheet.
“No, I’ve got one waiting,” she replied absent-mindedly as she signed. “Thank you though.” Handing the clipboard back, she moved to crouch beside the bed Brooklyn was in. “Sweetie, Rachie’s here. I’m going to take you home okay?” she whispered softly, pulling the blanket back.
“Mommy?” Brooklyn whispered as she rolled over an searched for someone’s arms. “My head hurts.”
Rachel pulled her into her arms, “Not Mommy, sweetie. Just Rachie. Let’s take you home and have an ice pop, okay?”
Brooklyn nodded and snuggled into the woman. “Mommy home?”
“Not yet. Do you think you’ll be okay with just me for a few hours?” she asked softly standing and heading for the door.
“Yes,” Brooklyn whimpered before laying her head on Rachel’s chest.
“Okay, sweetie,” she smiled softly and kissing her warm head as she walked past Mrs Chen. “Thank you for taking care of her, Mrs. Chen. Her mother and I both appreciate it.”
Brooklyn had been changed out of her uniform and into her black and purple pajama set and slippers. She sat on the couch leaning against a pillow with one arm wrapped around her teddy bear as she sucked on her popsicle. “Why does my head hurt?” she asked as she looked up at Rachel with her big brown eyes.
“I don’t know, sweetie,” Rachel responded honestly, coming in to sit down beside her and stroke her hair back. “I think it might be because you’re a little too warm and it’s making you feel icky though. Is it just your head that hurts?”
“My arms and legs feel funny, like they do when I’m in the pool.” She pouted, her head lolling to the side on Rachel’s shoulder.
She wrapped an arm around the little girl, cuddling her close. “Funny how? Like... wrinkly? Like when you’ve been in the water too long?”
“Like heavy.” She sighed. “Didn’t feel bad when mommy took me to school,” she pouted, “It was music day.”
“We can have music day here,” Rachel offered. “Maybe if your Mommy’s not home in a couple hours and you’re not feeling any worse, you can come with me to the theater if you promise to be good. How’s that sound?”
“The place where I meeted you?” She asked moving to lay with her head in Rachel’s lap.
“Mmmhmm,” she murmured, brushing her fingers through Brooklyn’s hair. “You weren’t feeling well that day either.”
“I get sicks a lot.” Brooklyn pouted, “I don’t like.”
“I don’t think anyone likes getting sick, sweetie,” Rachel teased her. “And your mom and I don’t like you getting sick most of all. Is there anything I can do to make you feel a little better?”
“My mommy reads me the stories she writes,” She said, “But they’s at home.” she cuddled her bear onto her chest and looked up. “Can you sing?”
She laughed softly, “Of course I can sing. That’s what I do for work, you know. I sing and act. I didn’t know your mommy wrote stories though. Are they any good?”
The little girl nodded, “She writes and draws me books. She also writes big people stuff but I can’t read them.” She pouted and sighed, she didn’t like being sick without her mom. “Can you sing to me?”
“Maybe you can show me some of the books she made for you some time,” Rachel murmured. “But of course I can sing to you. I love singing. What would you like me to sing? Do you have a favorite song?”
Brooklyn shook her head no, “Mommy sings that...” she got caught off guard with a sneeze before she finished her thought. “Can you sing your favorite song?”
She smirked, “You really want to hear Don’t Rain On My Parade? Did your Mommy ever tell you we once won a very important contest where I got to sing that and then sing with her and all of our friends?”
She nodded, “Soft song.” Brooklyn said as she took Rachel’s hand. “Like the one you and mommy singed to me.”
“Hmm,” she murmured. “Maybe not that one then.” She winked at her, “It’s more for big stages. Don’t tell your Mommy, but my daddies recorded all of our Glee club performances and I can ask them to mail me copies if you want to see your mommy singing with me some day.” She thought about a good song to sing a sick little girl.
“I wants to see.” She smiled, “You should have a little baby so I can be its friend,” Brooklyn mumbled, “I don’t like my friends...”
“Maybe someday,” Rachel smiled lightly. “Why don’t you like your friends?”
“They mean,” she cuddled into Rachel, “Mommy said they just jealous.”
“How are they mean?” she asked softly.
Brooklyn sniffle and crawled into her lap, needing the comfort. “Can you sing? Please?”
“Sure,” she whispered, kissing the top of her head and wrapping her arms about her before beginning to sing softly. “He went to sea, for the day. He wanted to know what to say. When he’s asked what he’d done in the past to someone that he loved endlessly. Now she’s gone and so is he.”
The sick child just clung to Rachel and sniffled. She wanted her mom. She had never been sick without her. Tears that were a mixture of sadness, fever and distress rolled down her cheeks.
Rachel finished the song and cuddled Brooklyn to her chest. “Don’t cry, sweetie. I know you want your mom and I know she wants to be here with you too. But I promise I’ll take care of you. I promise, okay? Do you want to take a cool bath? Maybe it’ll help with your head ache... you can have bubbles if you want.”
“Okay,” Brooklyn whimpered, “Mommy won’t forget me? Because she work now, she won’t forget?”
“She could never forget you, Brooklyn,” she murmured, getting a grip on the girl and heading into the bathroom to run a cool bath with bubbles. “Just like I could never forget you. We both love you very much, sweetie.”
“She’s always here,” she sniffled. “She knows how to make me not sick.” She looked down, almost like she was lost without Santana.
“I wish I knew how to make you not sick too,” she sighed, helping get her out of her pajamas so she could climb in the tub. “I’m not a very good stand-in for your mom, I guess.”
“Love you too...” Brooklyn said as she climbed in, sitting down and listlessly ran her hand through the bubbles.
“I love you too,” Rachel leaned over and kissed the top of her head before picking up a cup and pouring a little of the cool water over her shoulders. “Do you want a duckie to play with?”
“No, thank you,” Brooklyn said as she rubbed her eyes. “Can I sleep at your work?”
“Sure you can. We’ll even bring your favorite blanket and you’ve napped on the couch in my dressing room before, remember?” Rachel smiled at her, continuing to sluice water over her hot little body to cool it off. “And your mom checks in with me to see if I need anything before getting ready to pick you up from school, so she’ll come to the theater first and we can tell her to turn her phone back on, right?”
“She’d be scared if I’m not there or with Ms. Rita.” Brooklyn said and she leaned into the water. “Can I bring my bear? And wear my jammies?”
“Definitely on both accounts and you’ll be with me, so she’ll know you’re safe.” She sluiced a little of the cool water over Brooklyn’s head, being careful not to pour it in her eyes, “Because I’d die before I let anything happen to you, sweetheart.”
Brooklyn smiled, “Wish mommy and I could stay with you forever.”
Rachel’s breath caught slightly but she just smiled and nodded. “I wish that too, Brooklyn. I wish I could spend the rest of my life with you and your mommy. You’re my best friends you know. You’re my family,” she pointed out, adding a moment later, “like Quinn is.”
“Then you no go away.” she said, “We happy with you.”
“As long as your mommy wants me around, I’ll be right here. Promise,” she smiled at her. “You feeling any better with your bath?”
“Sleepy,” she said, “Can I have ginger ale?” she asked, “Mommy let’s me have it when I’m sick.”
She thought about it for a moment. “Okay, but just a little. Then we’ll take a nap before going to the theater okay?”
Brooklyn nodded and rubbed her nose after a large sneeze. “Ouch.”
“I think someone needs a tissue and maybe a Chilly Bear to snuggle with. Lucky for you, mine’s been hiding in my freezer cause I like cold when my head hurts. So, let’s get you dressed and snuggled in bed while I get Mr Chilly and set my alarm so we can nap. Sound good?”
"Kay," Brooklyn said as she stood up and lifted her arms for Rachel to pick her up.
She grabbed a towel off the rack and wrapped it around Brooklyn, pulling her out of the tub before unstopping the drain. “Maybe you’ll feel better after a nap?” she suggested, toweling her dry before grabbing her clothes and heading into the bedroom to set her on the bed. “Okay, get dressed and I’l be right back with Mr Chilly to cuddle you. Alright?”
Brooklyn got dressed slowly and then crawled into the bed. She flopped down on the covers and pouted when she rolled around and couldn’t find a spot that smelled like her mom's perfume like she normally did when they slept over.
“You okay, sweetie?” Rachel asked softly, coming back into the room with a red Chilly Bear and her phone. Setting the phone on the nightstand and handing Brooklyn the bear, she reached down and stroked her hair. “Do you need something?”
"Your bed don't smell like mommy anymore." She whispered, "I don't like that."
“I don’t like it either,” Rachel murmured, moving to her closet. “You two haven’t stayed with me recently. I’ve missed you.” She pulled a sweater out of her closet and smelled it, smiling when her nose caught the scent of her lover’s perfume. “Here we go.” She pulled the sweater on then crawled into bed, “How’s that?”
Brooklyn smiled, "Better," She said as she cuddled into Rachel. "Mommy's bed smells like you, I like it."
Rachel smiled softly, holding the girl close. “Even now? I haven’t been there in over a week.”
"She has a pillow and it smells like Rachie's hair." Brooklyn shrugged, "I like when you there, makes mommy happy."
“I like making your mommy happy,” she murmured, brushing her fingers through Brooklyn’s hair. “Seeing her smile makes me happy. Being with the two of you makes me happy.”
"Do you love Mommy?" She asked, her voice lazy with exhustion.
She nodded slowly, leaning down to kiss the top of her head. “More than anything,” she whispered, listening to the little girl’s breath start evening out.
Brooklyn cuddled up to the cold bear and Rachel, her fever addled body submitting to the lure of sleep.
A couple of hours later, Brooklyn seemed to be feeling a little better, so they bundled her up with proper shoes and a jacket and headed out the door with a bag full of coloring books, crayons, and a neatly folded blanket with a monkey cup and a bottle of Pedialyte they picked up on the way to the theater. Getting the sick little girl settled on her dressing room couch took a little longer, but it reassured Rachel to be able to duck in and check on her whenever she got off stage. That afternoon’s performance was one of the more hectic between running - occasionally literally - between the stage and her dressing room, but even with asking Jimmy to keep an eye on the room and get her if Brooklyn needed anything, she felt better being able to see she was okay for herself.
Brooklyn laid on the couch, her body wrapped in her blanket and her head propped up on a pillow as she watched The Jungle Book on Rachel's laptop. She had been dozing on and off the last half of Rachel's show.
Santana came in the dressing room, not aware of her daughter’s presence until she heard a faint, "Hi, Mommy." Her head snapped around and she ran to her daughter’s side.
"Baby? Why are you here? Are you okay," She asked as she pressed a kiss to her head, "Oh, baby..." She cooed as she realized that she had a fever.
“I don’t feel good, Mommy,” Brooklyn pouted, reaching up for a hug. “Mrs Chen tried to call you but you didn’t answer. Rachie came and got me but I missed you, Mommy.”
"I'm so sorry," She said as she pulled her daughter in her arms, "I'm so sorry, mommy should have had her phone on. Baby, what can I do? Can i make you feel better?"
“Hugs,” she whimpered. “Rachie don’t know how to make me not sick, Mommy.”
"I know baby," she whispered and bundled her daughter up like a baby, "Make you my baby burrito like when you were little first, right?" Santana smiled as she wrapped her up and cradled her, "Then hold you next to my heart so you know mommy loves you and will make you better."
“Uh-huh,” she nodded, snuggling in against her mom with a soft sigh. “Rachie doesn’t know how. Love you, Mommy.”
They had a few minutes snuggled together in the relative peace of Rachel’s dressing room before the owner of the room came back after the final curtain. “Brooklyn?” she called softly, slipping into the room, unaware Santana was there. “How are you feeling, sweetie?”
Santana looked up, obviously distressed and upset. "She's fine, I'm here now." She said as she rocked her daughter back and forth.
“Oh my gosh!” Rachel pulled off the outer layer of her costume and tossed it over the back of her chair before hurrying over. “You’re here! Thank Barbara. Are you okay? We couldn’t get in touch with you at all and I was beginning to fear the worst when you weren’t here by the intermission.”
"Quinn sent me to that stupid fucking training when I should have been here with my daughter." She said in a angry whisper. "I should have been here to pick her up. My daughter is sick."
“Yes, I’m aware,” Rachel stood up and started pulling off the last of the costume so she could change into her yoga pants and t-shirt to head home. “But I picked her up and made sure she had fluids and got cooled down. If you hadn’t been back by now, I would have told them to use Jan in tonight’s performance and taken her to the children’s clinic to get checked out.”
"You can't take her to the children’s clinic, you don't know her insurance... or her doctor or her medical needs!" Santana snapped.
Rachel jerked, taken aback by the harsh tone. “Forgive me for trying to take care of a child I happen to love, Santana! Perhaps I’m not perfect, but I was doing my best!”
Santana rocked her daughter, obviously shaken that she hadn't been able to pick her up and didn't even know she was sick. "I'm her mom." She said , "It should be me picking her up and making her better."
“Well, this time you weren’t able to, but I was.” She shrugged, not thinking it was a major problem. “She was safe with me and I simply took care of her until you could get here. I know you’re her mom, Santana.”
"It's my job.." She said, "Not... not this. Not going to training... not doing all of Quinn shit." She exclaimed, "Brooklyn is my job."
“And how are you going to take care of her without a job?” Rachel raised a brow. “She’s just got a cold. It happens to children, Santana. Even I know that. And I was more than happy to be able to be there for her while you were unavailable, just like her sitter does only I could watch her while she was sick. It’s not a big deal, Santana.”
"She's sick." Santana said as she pressed kisses to her daughters head, "I'm taking her home she shouldn't be here when she's sick." She stood up carefully with the little one and grabbed her bag. "I need to take her home."
“Do you need any help?” Rachel asked softly, already prepared to tell the director to call the understudy for her part to cover the evening show.
"You have your job." Santana said, "You should do it... I can do mine."
Rachel froze. “I know I do. I... I was just offering to help the people I lo...care about...”
"I know..." She whispered looked distressed, "I... I need to focus on her. I haven't been... I've been focusing on everything else... I need to focus on her."
“Oh,” she whispered. “I suppose I’d just be a distraction then. Will,” she took a breath, not enjoying how she was feeling, but deciding not to focus on it too closely, “will I see you next week then? Monday maybe?”
Santana blinked away the tears, "I... I told you I wouldn't be able to do this." She whispered regretfully, "I... I'll see you on Monday." She sniffled and put her daughter higher up in her arms.
“I’m not asking for the world, Santana,” Rachel looked up, smiling sadly. “All I want is to know you care about me. I’ve missed you. Brooklyn too. I’ll... I’ll give up the rest if it means you’ll still be my friend...”
"I've been forgetting my daughter." Santana sighed, "She's the most important thing in the world..."
“I know that,” she shrugged. “Look, if,” she swallowed, not wanting to offer, but seeing no other choice, “if you want to stop what we’re doing... I’ll understand. Just, please... don’t stop being my friend too. Quinn’s pushing me in front of the media more and,” she shook her head, “I really don’t want to lose my friends, Santana...”
"More.. media?" she asked nervously. "You... you know that I can't do that," she whispered and looked at Brooklyn's sleeping face. "I can't do that... you know that you need to do it for your career."
“I know,” she slumped, thinking she was losing not only her almost-but-not-quite girlfriend but also her friendship with the little family and feeling sick. “I... I understand.” She laughed sadly, dropping down in her chair. “I told Quinn this would happen but she insisted. It’s okay, Santana. You have to do what’s right for your child.”
"I'm still your assistant and your friend," she whispered. "You're kinda the other part of my world and I can't lose you..." She sniffled. "You know that I can't risk my daughter."
“I know.” She bit her lip, shrugging. “I know you can’t. I understand. It,” she took a breath, trying not to break down, but her voice was soft, “it was bound to happen eventually, I guess...”
"I'm sorry." Santana whispered, leaning forward and pressing her lips to Rachel’s. "Please don't be upset."
“How can I be upset?” She did her best to smile as Santana pulled away. “You’re keeping Brooklyn safe. I don’t have any right to be upset faced with that.” She turned away to keep the tears that kept threatening the more she looked at Santana and Brooklyn from spilling. “I guess you should go take care of your daughter now,” she whispered, doing her best to keep her breaking heart from coloring her voice. "Take as much time as you need. I think I can handle my schedule on my own for a few days.”
"I'm sorry," Santana whimpered. "Thank you for looking after her when I couldn't." She took a breath and carried her out of the room and headed back to their apartment.
Finally alone, Rachel let the tears she’d been holding back out. Her arms wrapped around her stomach as she doubled over, sobbing nearly silently against the empty feeling in her chest. They’d been all she had now that Quinn was wrapped up with Jay but she gave them up to keep Brooklyn safe. She did it because she loved them, but it still hurt worse than anything she’d done before.
Chapter Twenty-One