There's No Stork: Part 1
By: SometimesIWish
Santana rummaged through her locker, searching for the history homework she needed to turn in for her next class. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Brittany walk up to her and stand a few feet away. Swallowing with difficulty, she finally found the worksheet and stuffed it in the red binder in her arms, willing the tears welling up in her eyes to disappear. She didn't need to cry in the middle of the hallway again.
"Can I… can I talk to you?" Brittany asked hesitantly as Santana carefully shut her locker.
The Latina turned to make a scathing remark, but saw the worry reflected in Brittany's eyes, so she simply nodded. Brittany bit her lip anxiously and ducked her head, but not fast enough to hide the tears beginning to trail down her cheeks.
"Britt, what's wrong?" she asked softly, taking a step forward and cradling Brittany's chin in her hands, lifting her face gently so they were staring into each other's eyes. Deep blue eyes shone with sorrow and fear and Santana's heart felt like it was splitting in half. It had never occurred to her that her confession of love for Brittany could have been just as hard for the blonde as it was for her.
The blonde suppressed a sob and Santana dropped her binders to the ground, not caring that her papers scattered all over the hallway floor as she pulled Brittany into a hug. Brittany buried her face in Santana's shoulder and her body shook as she cried. The bell rang and the halls cleared, leaving Santana and Brittany standing in the middle of the hall by themselves.
"Come on, let's go somewhere we can talk," Santana murmured, and Brittany nodded into her shoulder. The Latina kept an arm looped around Brittany's waist as she moved them down the hall towards the Cheerios' locker room. They technically weren't allowed to use it since they weren't Cheerios anymore, but Coach Sylvester didn't hang around much since she was the new coach for Aural Intensity.
The locker room was empty and a few locker doors had been left open, revealing the barren space inside. The normally stressed-out environment was now eerily empty due to the Cheerios' loss at Regionals. Santana stared around the locker room as Brittany moved swiftly to the sinks on the other side of the room.
"Brittany, what's going on?" Santana asked.
"What if I told you the reason I'm not breaking up with Artie isn't because I love him?" Brittany asked in a quiet voice. Breathless, Santana waited. "What if I told you that if I was able to, I would break up with him in a heartbeat?"
"Is he… is he hurting you?" Santana asked fearfully as Brittany leaned over the sinks, resting her hands on the edge of the white porcelain to support herself.
"I'm pregnant."
For a moment, Santana stared. Then she started laughing, shaking her head. "Brittany, I told you, storks don't bring babies," she murmured, walking forward and resting her hands gently on the blonde's shoulders. "A stork building its nest right outside your bedroom window doesn't mean you're going to have a baby."
"I made that up."
Again, Santana stared, not quite comprehending what Brittany said. "What?"
Brittany turned to face Santana. "I didn't want Artie to know yet," she said, her eyes begging for the Latina to understand. "When he said that in glee, I said the first thing that came to my mind, and everyone thinks I'm stupid anyways, so… so they believed me. And now I don't… I don't know how to tell Artie and I can't tell my parents or anyone else, and I thought I could tell you, but how else would everyone else know…?"
She broke down in tears, wrapping her arms around her middle, as if she was trying to keep herself from falling apart. Santana stared at her, her eyes wide in disbelief and horror. After a moment of stunned shock, she stepped forward and pulled Brittany into her arms.
"We're going to figure this out," she murmured, rocking her back and forth.
Even as her heart was breaking, she silently promised Brittany that she would support her through everything, no matter what.
"Miss Holliday, we need to talk to you."
Holly Holliday looked up at them with an excited expression, her smile fading when she saw the serious looks on both Santana and Brittany's face. "What can I do for you girls?" she asked.
Santana shook her head and glanced around the classroom full of chattering students, pulling Brittany even closer to her. "Can we… can we talk to you alone?" she asked in a whisper. "And, like, right now? It's really important and I wouldn't ask if it wasn't."
"Of course," Miss Holliday murmured. She turned to her class. "Guys! I'm going to step outside for a few minutes to talk about grades with some students." There were cheers and she grinned wryly at her class before sweeping a hand towards the door.
"So what's this about, guys?" Miss Holliday asked as she gently shut the classroom door behind her. She looked expectantly at Santana and Brittany.
"Britt… Brittany thinks she's pregnant," Santana whispered.
"Honey, I told you, when a stork builds its nest next to your window, it means nothing except that you're probably going to have to get a wildlife expert to take it to a preserve or something," Miss Holliday said in an exasperated voice.
"She's late."
Holly's eyes widened and she looked at Brittany differently. "Well, have you… have you gone to a doctor or taken a pregnancy test?" she asked gently.
Brittany shook her head, dropping her eyes to the floor.
"Do you know who the father is?"
The blonde glanced over at Santana hesitantly. "Unless two girls can make babies, too, it has to be Artie's," she murmured.
"And have you told Artie?" Holly asked.
"No, I… the closest I came to actually telling him was in glee the other day and I… I couldn't tell him in front of the whole glee club and make it another Quinn disaster," Brittany mumbled, tears tumbling down her cheeks. "I don't… I never wanted this. Not with him. I just… I don't know what to do."
"Honey, you have to take a pregnancy test or go to a doctor to make sure you actually are pregnant," Holly said gently, grasping Brittany's arm lightly. "Sometimes a woman's cycle can be irregular when something particular stressful happens or can just get out of whack. There's no need to make a fuss about nothing."
"So I could not be pregnant?" Brittany asked hopefully.
Holly was hesitant. "That's… definitely a possibility," she said carefully. "How late are you?"
"A month and a half," Brittany answered, her eyes still shining with hope. Santana felt a sinking sensation in her stomach.
"Brittany… if you're that late, then there isn't a very likely chance you aren't pregnant," Holly said, and the hope in Brittany's eyes died. "It's a possibility, but it's very slight. And even if you aren't pregnant, it would be a very good idea for you to go to a doctor because there could be something very wrong."
"I don't… I don't know what to do," Brittany whispered.
"How about I go out and get a pregnancy test on my lunch break and we can do all of this before school ends," Holly suggested gently with an encouraging smile. "I will do everything in my power to make this easier on you, okay? And I'm sure Santana is with me, as well."
Santana nodded and gave Brittany a strained smile.
"You know what?" Holly asked. "My temporary office is right through that door there and there's a bathroom in there. How about you go get yourself cleaned up and calmed down? I'm sure you'll feel a little bit better afterwards."
Brittany sniffled and nodded, wiping her eyes on her sleeve before slowly turning towards Holly's office and slipping inside. Santana watched her with a sorrowful expression on her face, turning back to Holly once the door clicked shut.
"Please tell me there's a chance she's not pregnant," Santana said, her eyes pleading.
Holly sighed. "I don't want to give you a false hope," she murmured, shaking her head. "Sometimes a woman's cycle adjusts, but that's more slowly and doesn't… I mean, some women… no, unless there's something drastically wrong, Brittany's pregnant."
The Latina swallowed and looked down the empty hall, willing the tears welling up in her eyes to disappear. "She doesn't deserve it," she murmured. "Of all the girls who could get pregnant, she deserves it the least. She's so… innocent and naïve and I don't want that to be ruined."
"Santana, look at me." The Latina turned her head and looked into Holly's eyes. "I know this isn't easy on you, but Brittany really needs a loyal friend right now. Someone she's comfortable with calling at all hours of the night, bunking out with if things get stressful at home, and running to if she has a problem. She needs someone she can rely on. Can you do that for her?"
"Yes," Santana said, nodding with conviction.
"It's okay to feel confused," Holly murmured as tears sprung into Santana's eyes. "You don't have to be strong all the time. It would be good for you to have someone to lean on and to go to when life is getting a little too hard for you. Brittany is going to need someone, true, but it doesn't all have to be on you."
"I don't understand!" Santana cried, looking away from Holly with tears streaming down her face. "Why didn't she tell me before? A month and a half! And I've been such a… such a bitch to her and all this time she's been carrying around this secret…. What did she do to deserve this?"
Holly stepped forward with her arms outstretched and Santana collapsed into her, sobs shaking her body. The older blonde rubbed her back comfortingly. "Sometimes the most amazing people in the world have the worst things happen to them," she murmured, resting her chin on top of Santana's head. "And there's nothing we can do about it but get through it and look forward."
Sobs continued to shake Santana's body as she buried her face in the crook of Holly's neck, attempting to muffle the sounds escaping her mouth. "I just… I love her so much," she cried. "And I… because stupid Artie… I'll never be with her."
"Don't think that," Holly whispered, pulling away and looking Santana in the eye. "Look at Quinn. She had a baby with Puck and in no way are they together. And from what I've seen and heard, you've been with Brittany a lot longer than Artie has. Artie doesn't know about this. You do. She trusted you enough to tell you about this. And I think you should take that for what it's worth."
Santana sniffed, wiping her eyes on the sleeve of her shirt. "You really think she loves me more than she loves Artie?" she asked in a small voice.
"I can't guarantee anything," Holly said honestly. "But I think she really loves you." She rubbed Santana's shoulder comfortingly.
The door to Holly's office opened and Brittany emerged, her eyes still a little puffy, but her makeup fixed and her hair neatly parted and brushed. Santana moved towards her and Brittany looked uncertainly at her, studying her face, before the Latina wrapped her arms around the blonde's waist and hugged her tightly.
"Guys, I can't really get you out of the rest of your classes," Holly said. "I know it really sucks, but not only am I just a substitute, but I'm a substitute for the sex education teacher, meaning I get even less respect than other substitutes. I can write you guys passes to your next classes, but I can't excuse you from all of them."
The Latina took a deep breath and nodded as she stepped back from Brittany. "That's okay because we have our last two classes together," she said, smiling comfortingly at her best friend. "We have Spanish and Glee, and I don't think Mr. Schuester will mind very much if we aren't paying attention since we're both fluent in Spanish and we don't really do much in Glee except sing background."
She reached out her hand and laced her fingers together with Brittany's. "Everything is going to be okay," she whispered.
Santana sat in a desk in the Sex Education room, her elbows leaning on the desktop and her head held in her hands. It had been twenty minutes since Holly had come back from the store with three pregnancy tests, twenty minutes since she had taken Brittany to the teacher's bathroom for some privacy, twenty minutes since her best friend had told her that she wanted to do this alone.
Or, rather, without Santana, because Brittany had specifically asked Holly to come with her because she didn't know how to decipher the instructions on the boxes.
Santana had always been the one to help Brittany.
There were footsteps in the hallway and Santana looked up from the desk, recognizing the loud clacking of heels combined with the light patter of feet against tile. She stood up slowly as the footsteps slowed and stopped, listening to the low murmurs just outside the room.
Then Brittany appeared in the doorway, her arms wrapped tightly around her stomach and her eyes focused on the floor. She stopped just over the threshold, her breath whistling through her nose as she obviously tried to keep herself from breaking down.
"Britt?" Santana whispered, taking a step forward and reaching out to the blonde.
"Don't."
The Latina retracted her hand quickly, stung by the sharpness of Brittany's tone. She looked past the blonde to see Holly standing in the hallway shaking her head regretfully.
"Do you… do you want me to take you home?"
"I don't want to go back to my house."
Santana sucked in a deep breath. "You're sleeping over tonight," she said decisively. "We'll get ice cream and pizza and stop at Blockbuster to rent a bunch of movies and we'll just have a girls' night in. And we don't have to go to school tomorrow."
"I don't know if I want to."
"Britt, don't… don't shut me out. Please."
"Why?" Brittany asked angrily, looking up to glare at Santana. "You've been shutting me out for as long as we've been friends. Why is it that you're allowed to keep all your secrets and I'm not allowed to try to keep something to myself?"
The Latina stepped back, tears welling up in her eyes as she crossed her arms protectively over her chest. She focused her attention anywhere except Brittany. "I'm sorry," she whispered. "You're right. We'll do what you want to do." A tear trickled down her cheek and she turned away from Brittany, wiping at her face furiously to hide the fact that she was crying from the blonde.
"No, no, San, don't cry," Brittany said, stepping forward and turning Santana around. She pressed her hands on either side of Santana's face, wiping her tears away with the pads of her thumbs. "Please don't cry."
"How am I supposed to not cry?" Santana whimpered, looking pleadingly into Brittany's eyes. "I can't do anything right. God damn, this is all my fault."
She pulled away from Brittany and stumbled across the room, steadying herself on a desk as she breathed in deeply, trying to calm herself. Brittany's footsteps were soft as she walked toward her and the weight of her hand on Santana's shoulder was comforting.
"If I had just stopped being such a fucking wimp and told you how I feel, none of this would have happened. You wouldn't be with Artie, this whole situation wouldn't have occurred, and I wouldn't be crying like a baby right now."
"This isn't your fault." Brittany's voice was stern and commanding, a tone Santana rarely heard from the usually cheerful blonde. "I mean, yeah, it would have been nice for you to tell me how you felt a little earlier, but what I did was wrong. I shouldn't have started dating Artie to make you jealous. It only hurt people."
They were both quiet.
Then Santana turned around to face Brittany, her eyes searching the blonde's face. "Are you… are you pregnant?"
Brittany sucked in a deep, shuddering breath, closed her eyes, and nodded.
"Why didn't you want me to come with you when you were taking the tests?"
"Because I didn't want you to be disappointed if I was. That I am," Brittany whispered, keeping her eyes tightly closed.
"Brittany, open your eyes," Santana murmured.
The blonde slowly opened her eyes, revealing the teary blue from beneath her eyelids. Santana reached up with her hand and caressed Brittany's cheek, stepped closer to the blonde, pressed their foreheads together, and stared straight into Brittany's eyes.
"I could never, ever be disappointed with you," she whispered meaningfully. "No matter where this takes us, you will always be the most important person in my life. You're so much more than a best friend to me and I will do anything within my power to show you that I love you more than anyone else ever could."
Squeezing her eyes shut, Brittany leaned into Santana's touch and began to cry. There weren't gut-wrenching sobs, high-pitched wails, or even small whimpers. Silent tears trailed down her face, eliciting pity and sorrow from Santana. Out of all the times she had ever experienced a sad Brittany, this had to be the worst.
"I'm going to tell my parents."
Santana looked up from her history book to see Brittany staring determinedly at the wall. It had been three weeks since she had officially confirmed she was pregnant with a doctor's visit and she had been sick all hours of the day. They had had great difficulty keeping everything hidden from Brittany's parents and Brittany ended up keeping a near-permanent residence at Santana's house.
"I think that would be a good idea," Santana said slowly.
"Do you think they're going to be mad?"
The Latina was quiet for a moment, choosing her words carefully before replying. "I don't think they'll be angry," she said cautiously. "I think they'll be… upset because this happened to you. They don't want you to have to go through all this because they love you."
"I think we should apologize to Quinn."
"And why the hell should I apologize to her?" Santana demanded, completely abandoning her history book as she sat up.
"Because we weren't there for her when this was happening last year," Brittany said quietly. She bit her lip nervously as she stared down at her hands. "I mean, Santana… I don't know what I would do without you, without anyone there to tell me what to do. At first I thought… I thought…."
Santana's eyes widened in realization. "You thought I was going to ditch you like we ditched Quinn," she whispered.
Brittany nodded. "Yeah, and I was scared because… you're my best friend, San, no matter what happens. And Quinn must have felt so lost without anyone to talk to and I didn't want to feel like that and so I just kept it to myself…."
The blonde collapsed in tears and Santana threw herself across the room, gathering Brittany in her arms and rocking her back and forth.
"I would never, ever leave you," Santana murmured in Brittany's ear. "And I'm sorry that I ever made you think I would. You're right; we need to apologize to Quinn. I never realized how… how horrible it must have been for her to go through that and not even have her best friends there for her."
They sat there like that for a long time, with Santana holding Brittany close to her chest with her face buried in Santana's neck.
"Do you think I should tell Artie?"
Santana sucked in a deep breath. "Any rational person would tell you yes, especially with what happened after the whole Quinn-Finn-Puck thing last year. But, honestly, I don't think he's going to help the situation at all. I think he's going to bitch and moan about how he's going to be a father and how he can't possibly provide for a child because he's just a junior in high school."
"So you don't think I should tell him," Brittany said, pulling away from Santana to wipe her eyes on the sleeve of her shirt. She crossed her arms over her chest protectively and kept her gaze focused on the floor.
"I hate this."
Brittany looked up. "What?"
"I hate what we've become," Santana said, throwing her arms wide to gesture encompass the whole room, the whole world. "We used to be best friends, Britt. We used to tell each other everything. And now I've become so much of a bitch that I've scared you into keeping your secrets from me, secrets you shouldn't have to keep to yourself. And I've become so… attached to my image that I can't even be true to myself."
"It's okay to be afraid," Brittany whispered, looking into Santana's eyes. "I mean, I'm scared. Just because I'm scared doesn't mean that you can't be scared, too. Rachel was talking to me the other day about relationships and she said that in order to make a relationship work, both people have to put in an equal amount of effort."
Santana snorted. "So Berry said something halfway-smart for once."
"San, I think the reason our friendship isn't working is because you're taking too much responsibility," Brittany explained, ignoring Santana's attempt to change the subject. "You think that I can't take anything, so you try to protect me from everything. You can't do that, Santana. It isn't possible."
"It's not that I don't think you can!" Santana exclaimed, surprising Brittany. "It's that I don't want you to have to. I don't want to see you hurt or struggling or…."
"Sometimes we need to hurt and struggle, San," Brittany whispered. "How are we supposed to grow if we don't?"
"When did you get so smart, Britt?" Santana asked with a small smile.
Brittany shrugged and smiled as Santana leaned over to pull her into a hug.
"Hey, Quinn, can I talk to you?" Santana asked as everyone moved to leave after glee was over. The former head cheerleader looked at her skeptically before nodding, seeing the serious expression on Santana's face.
"What…?" Brittany asked.
"Britt, go on out to the car," Santana instructed gently. "I'll meet you out there, okay?"
Brittany looked at Santana hesitantly before nodding and walking slowly out of the room behind everyone else, trailing Artie closely. Santana watched her closely before turning to Quinn, who was still seated in the second row of chairs. The room was eerily quiet and the only sound Santana could hear was the loud thumping of her own heart.
"You wanted to talk to me?" Quinn asked.
"Um, yeah, I just…." Santana trailed off, unsure of how to continue.
"Santana, what happened to us?" Quinn asked, breaking the silence as she stood. Santana looked up at her, surprised. "We used to be best friends: you, me, and Brittany. The Unholy Trinity."
The two girls smiled together at the nickname.
"We did everything together, from sleepovers to family picnics to Cheerios. Then…."
"Then you got pregnant," Santana whispered, her eyes connecting with Quinn's. "And I became a bitch."
"Yeah," Quinn said quietly, averting her gaze. "That."
The Latina took a deep breath. "I'm sorry."
Quinn looked up, confused. "What?"
"I abandoned you when I needed you the most," Santana explained. "Yeah, you slept with my on-again, off-again boyfriend, but… I still should have been there for you. Or at least have let Brittany be there for you. But I was selfish and I was a bitch and I decided that if we weren't best friends, then no one could be best friends. So I made your life as miserable as I possibly could."
"You did a pretty good job of it, too," Quinn laughed.
"Please don't joke about this," Santana said seriously. Quinn stopped laughing. "We… I was so horrible to you. And right when you needed it the most."
"Santana, I would have done the same thing…" Quinn started.
"No, because I still would have had Brittany," Santana said, her eyes pleading for Quinn to understand. "We were always closer, and we all knew that if something happened, Britt and I would stick together. And you trusted us not to leave you out. But we abandoned you when you needed us the most."
"Is there something going on, Santana?" Quinn asked worriedly.
"I just…."
"Artie, please don't do this!"
Santana and Quinn turned to see Artie in the doorway, an expression of anger on his face.
"You did this!" he yelled, pointing a finger at Santana. "You knew you could get between us. You were too much of a jealous bitch to let her have a happy relationship with someone who wasn't you, so you went and ruined it. Just because you don't have a heart and can't love someone doesn't mean you have to go around ruining everyone else's lives, Santana."
"Wait, what?" Santana asked as Brittany appeared behind him.
"You made her break up with me!"
"Why are you breaking up with him?" Santana asked, her eyes wild with confusion. "Brittany, don't do this."
"But I can't," Brittany cried, tears streaming down her cheeks. "Santana, I can't do it with him. I just can't."
The Latina rushed forward and pulled Brittany into her arms as the blonde stumbled forward, holding her as sobs shook her body.
"Wait, what the hell is going on here?" Quinn asked.
"Yeah, I want to know what's going on here, too," Artie said, crossing his arms over his chest.
Brittany just sobbed harder.
"She's pregnant, okay?" Santana said, stunning both Artie and Quinn into silence. "Brittany is pregnant and she doesn't know what to do, so I'm trying to help her out here. But it doesn't really help when people go around accusing me of trying to break her and her boyfriend up."
"How long?" Quinn asked quietly.
"A little over two months," Santana answered just as quietly.
"Who's the father?"
Santana turned to Artie as Brittany's shoulders shook harder. "What?"
"I asked who the father is," Artie repeated firmly. "Because there's no possible way that it's me because we always used birth control…."
"Are you an idiot?" Santana asked incredulously. "Just because you use birth control doesn't mean there's no possible way a girl can't get pregnant. And you're the only other person she's had sex with who's able to get her pregnant."
"And who else has had sex with her?" Artie asked accusingly.
"We are not having this discussion right now," Quinn cut in sharply. "We can discuss this later, but Brittany is upset right now and we don't need to be upsetting her more. Who else knows, Santana?"
"Miss Holliday," Santana whispered. "That's it. Britt wanted to tell her parents, but she hasn't gotten around to it yet. She's been to the doctor's once and Miss Holliday paid for it when we promised to pay her back. We weren't planning on telling anyone else at least until after we told her parents."
"I didn't want this to happen," Brittany sobbed. "Quinn, I promise, I didn't do it on purpose."
"Oh, sweetie, I know, I know," Quinn soothed, walking forward and taking Brittany into her arms. Santana stepped back, watching awkwardly as Quinn stroked Brittany's hair and rocked her back and forth.
"Talk to Artie in the hall," Quinn mouthed to her over Brittany's shoulder.
Santana sighed and motioned for Artie to follow her out of the room. He gave Brittany one last longing glance before rolling out into the hall. The Latina gently closed the door and walked a little way down the hall, slipping her hands in her pockets as she stopped and stared down at the tiled floor.
"You know, I never told her to break up with you," she finally said. "Actually, if she had asked me, I would have told her not to." She turned around to face Artie. "You're better for her, and I'm not going to deny that. I'm a bitch and I know it. I'm horrible at relationships and I've treated her like shit ever since we became friends. I take advantage of her. It's not that I want to, but it's that I do it with everyone who gets that close to me."
Artie sighed. "That's not true."
She looked at him incredulously.
"You do things for her that no one else would ever do for her," Artie explained. "Stuff that not even I do for her. You listen to her when she has crazy ideas and dreams and you take her seriously. Whenever she says something that's wrong, you don't laugh at her. You tell her that she's wrong, what the correct answer is, and then make sure she doesn't feel bad about herself."
"If you think so highly of me, then why are you so against me being with Brittany?" Santana asked, crossing her arms over her chest.
"Because Brittany is such an amazing person," Artie said. "I mean… not only is she gorgeous, but she's insanely smart. And… well, I kind of want her for myself. Plus, when two girls in a row break up with me for someone else, it makes me look kind of bad."
Santana looked at him, squinting her eyes. "Are you kidding me?" she asked. "You're doing this for yourself? What about her and what she wants?"
He shrugged. "Doesn't she just want the sex?"
She clenched her jaw angrily and tightened her fists at her side to keep herself from punching Artie in the face. "You don't know Brittany at all," she whispered. "I don't understand how you could have been dating her for so long and you don't know who she is."
"Well…."
"You spend all your time playing stupid video games to pay attention to her," Santana growled. "Do you know she's come over to my house after your supposed 'dates' crying most of the time because she doesn't think you care about her?"
"What…?"
"I thought that you made her genuinely happy, though, so I didn't say anything," Santana snapped. "I love her, but I want her to be happy, so I didn't tell her to break up with you. I didn't ask her to be with me until a couple weeks ago just before she told me she was pregnant. And do you know what she told me? She said she could never break your heart."
He stared at her incredulously.
"And you know what?" she asked. "I think you've already broken hers."
"She never loved me," he snarled. "You know what she said the first time we did it? That the only reason we would be having sex was because I wanted to get over Tina and she wanted to make you jealous. Everything she's done is for you, and you don't even have the decency to realize that."
"She did love you," Santana yelled. "She loved you enough to try to not break your heart. She loved you enough to not break up with you to be with me. She loved you enough to try to spare you the worry of having a kid when you're in high school. Artie, you don't even realize how much she loves you."
"And you don't realize how much she loves you, either, so I guess we're even," Artie snapped.
There was a pause.
"Can we… can we at least be friends?" Artie asked timidly.
"Are you, like, bipolar or something?" Santana asked. "One minute you're yelling at me, the next you're quavering in fear. Besides, you should know by now that I'm just as vulnerable and weak as the rest of the kids in glee club."
"I just found out that I'm having a kid," Artie defended. "I think I'm allowed to have mood swings."
"True."
"So can we be friends?" he asked.
Santana looked at him. "No," she said. "We will never be friends because both of us are hurting too much. You hate me because you never fully had the attention of your girlfriend because of me, and I hate you because you took the love of my life from me and are having a child with her. The most we will ever be able to do is tolerate each other. I'll refrain from throwing you in the dumpster and calling you names, and you'll refrain from telling everyone I'm a bitch behind my back. And we'll only do it for Brittany."
He nodded. "Fair enough," he murmured.
"And, just warning you, I will be at every doctor's appointment, every shopping trip, and every consultation," Santana said. "I will be by Brittany's side every step of the way and there is nothing you can do about it. If you try to protest it, I will make things very difficult for you."
"Understandable," he whispered, casting his eyes to the ground.
She sighed. "You'll be fine," she murmured.
"It's not me I'm worried about," he said. Artie raised his eyes to meet Santana's. "It's her I'm worried about."
Santana looked at the closed door behind which Quinn was still comforting Brittany. "Me, too," she whispered. "Me, too."
"Mom, Dad, can I… can I talk to you?" Brittany asked hesitantly.
Santana looked away from the TV to glance at Brittany's nervous face before finally settling on the confused expressions on Mr. and Mrs. Pierce's faces. She reached from Brittany's hand and squeezed it encouragingly as she laced their fingers together.
"Of course, honey," Mrs. Pierce answered smoothly. "You can tell us anything. You know that we love you no matter what."
Brittany sucked in a shuttering breath.
"Girls, we know," Mr. Pierce said, and Brittany's eyes widened. "You can have expected to hide it for too long."
"Why didn't you say anything, then?" Brittany asked.
"We thought it would be better if you girls came to us in your own time and told us," Mrs. Pierce said with a small smile on her face. "But we're proud of you for being brave and coming to us like this." She looked pointedly at Santana and Brittany's entwined hands.
"Mom, you do… you know that this doesn't have anything to do with me and Santana, right?" Brittany asked slowly. "I'm… I'm pregnant."
Mr. and Mrs. Pierce stared at them.
"Mom? Dad?" Brittany asked, tears in her eyes. "Say something. Please?"
"Honey…" Mrs. Pierce whispered, shaking her head.
"Mommy, Daddy, please," Brittany begged.
"Brittany, come here," Mrs. Pierce said in a wavering voice, holding her arms out. Brittany sniffled and rushed to her, burying her face in Mrs. Pierce's shoulder, sobs shaking her body as she cried. Mr. Pierce wrapped his arms around his wife and daughter, holding both of them close.
"It's going to be okay," Mrs. Pierce whispered. "You're going to be okay." She looked at Santana, a meaningful look on her face. "Everything is going to be okay."
Quinn walked into Brittany's bedroom with a big basket full of nail polish. She set it down on the floor and sat down next to Brittany as Santana opened her eyes and looked at them from her place on the bed. Brittany was leaning back against the edge of the bed on the floor, one hand resting on her slightly swollen stomach, the other fiddling with the dial on her radio.
"We're doing our nails tonight," Quinn announced cheerily. "I ordered pizza and I have movies and it's going to be a girl's night in. No school tomorrow and summer next week. We're celebrating."
"Pizza?" Brittany asked excitedly, sitting up a little straighter as she stopped fiddling with the radio. "With pineapple and tomato and black olives and sardines and onions and peppers?"
"Of course," Quinn said, a small smile on her face as she rolled her eyes. Santana made a face. "Come on, you're the one who introduced sardines to her, Santana. She wouldn't have that craving if it wasn't for you."
"She didn't even like it," Santana protested. "It was, like, three and a half years ago. How was I supposed to know it would be one of her pregnancy cravings?"
"It tastes good," Brittany chirped. "And Swedish fish ice cream?"
"No," Quinn said slowly.
Brittany started to pout.
"I can go get some," Santana said quickly, sitting up. Quinn shot her a you're-so-whipped look as she stood up.
"Thank you, Santana!" Brittany cheered, her eyes brightening.
"No problem," Santana mumbled as she stood up and slipped on a pair of flip-flops. "What size do you want?"
"Um, maybe a… oh!"
Brittany's hand flew to her stomach and her eyes widened. Both Quinn and Santana rushed to her side.
"What's wrong?" Santana asked. "Is it the baby? Are you hurting? Is…?"
The blonde took one of Santana's hands and set it on her stomach, a small smile playing on her lips as Santana's eyes widened at the tiny kick under her hand.
"Is that…?" Santana whispered.
The smile on Brittany's face widened as she nodded, and tears sprung to Santana's eyes. Santana fumbled for Brittany's other hand and she squeezed it tightly as the baby kicked again.
Quinn looked on silently, an understanding smile on her face.
"I swear, Santana, you're more of a father to this baby than Artie is," Quinn insisted as Santana scanned through the parenting section of the bookstore. "I mean, every time I've seen Artie, all I've heard him talk about is how hard it's going to be for him to take care of this kid. And he doesn't even have to live with it!"
"Her, Quinn, her," Santana corrected. "The baby is a girl. How many times do I have to tell you that?"
"Case and point," Quinn replied as Santana picked a book up off the shelf and started to look through it. "Has Brittany even decided whether or not she's going to keep the baby? I thought she was going to give it up for adoption."
"No, her parents want her to," Santana muttered. "She hasn't decided yet. I think… if she does put the baby up for adoption, it's going to be an open adoption so she can visit and stuff. She wants to be part of her life."
"Have you guys chosen names yet?"
Santana sighed as she set the book back down on the shelf. "The baby isn't mine. I have nothing to do with the name-choosing process. That's between Brittany and Artie."
Quinn rolled her eyes. "Like I said before, you're more of a father to that baby than Artie is," she said. "Brittany takes you're advice ten times more seriously than she takes Artie's, and you know she would probably name the baby anything you wanted to name her."
"I…."
"She loves you, Santana," Quinn said, grabbing the brunette by the elbow and turning her around so they were facing each other. "She loves you. Not Artie. And I know you love her, too. We all know it. So why don't you get your head out of your ass and gather up the guts to ask her out?"
"Since when did the conversation change from baby names to mine and Brittany's relationship?" Santana asked, her eyes narrowing.
"Since she's been dropping hints right and left, you idiot!" Quinn hissed. "She's been waiting this whole time for you to ask her out because she's too afraid to put herself out there. All that shit you fed her about how 'sex isn't dating' made her afraid of taking your guys' relationship to the next step. She's afraid, Santana."
Santana clenched her jaw and looked around the bookstore before grabbing Quinn's wrist and pulling her toward the back of the store and into the bathroom. Letting go of Quinn, she bolted the door shut and sighed deeply, closing her eyes as she leaned against the door for support.
"Why are you being so stubborn?" Quinn asked.
The brunette whirled around to face her. "Has it ever occurred to you that I'm scared, too?" she asked. "That Brittany isn't the only vulnerable person in this relationship?"
Quinn stared at her.
"Has it ever occurred to you that maybe I already did admit to her that I love her? That I already asked her to be with me?" she asked, her voice wavering. "Has it occurred to you that maybe she shot me down so she could be with Artie? Because of this baby?"
"Santana…."
"I just can't, Quinn. I can't risk it again. Brittany is having a baby with Artie; not with me. The best thing for the both of us is for me to just back off and be her best friend right now. She doesn't need any more complications."
The blonde nodded. "I'm sorry," she whispered, reaching forward and grasping Santana's shoulder comfortingly as the brunette crossed her arms over her chest protectively. "I didn't know… Brittany never told me any of that."
"I know that I'm a bitch, Quinn," Santana whispered, her eyes tearing up. "I know I take advantage of people and make fun of them when they're vulnerable, but I would never, ever do that to Brittany. She means too much to me. I want to make sure everything… everything has to be sorted out before anything can happen between me and Brittany."
Quinn tilted her head as she looked at Santana inquisitively. "You really do love her, don't you?"
Santana sniffled and nodded.
"Oh, Santana," Quinn said as Santana started to cry. She pulled Santana forward into a hug and rubbed comforting circles on her back. "Why didn't you say anything?"
The brunette muttered something indecipherable into Quinn's shoulder.
"I know, honey, it's going to be okay," Quinn whispered.
There was a knock on the bathroom door and angry yelling. Santana sniffled again and pulled away from Quinn.
"Do you think we should get out of here before some angry eighty-year-old lady knocks down the door and tries to strangle us?" Santana asked, wiping her eyes with the edge of her sleeve.
"That'd probably be a good idea," Quinn agreed.
Santana pulled back the bolt and opened the door to see an old lady waving a cane in the air angrily. The two girls looked at each other before bursting into laughter.
"But I don't understand, Santana. How am I supposed to look smoking hot if I can't even fit into any of my old clothes?"
Brittany was on the verge of tears and Santana was doing her best to prevent her from crying. The blonde had just discovered none of her clothes fit her and it was the first day of their senior year. She had been wearing athletic shorts and t-shirts all summer because they were more comfortable and Santana had been trying to avoid this for as long as possible.
"Honey, you're the hottest girl at school," Santana assured her gently. "You could be wearing a trash bag and every other girl at school would be jealous of how smokin' hot you are."
"Promise?" Brittany asked, lip trembling dangerously.
"Pinky promise," Santana said, linking their pinkies and giving Brittany a small, reassuring smile. Brittany smiled back and tightened her hold on Santana's pinky.
"But what am I gonna wear?"
"Remember last week when Quinn brought all of her old clothes by in that cardboard box and said you could have them?" Santana asked, and Brittany nodded. "Well, she remembered that when she was pregnant, you said that you liked some of her clothes. We can mix and match your clothes and hers until we can go on an official shopping trip."
"Really?" Brittany asked excitedly. "You're gonna take me shopping?"
Santana sighed. She hated shopping. "Of course, Britt. Anything for you."
The blonde squealed in delight and bounced over to the box of clothes that had been pushed to the corner of her room. Santana sighed in relief as she watched Brittany pulling out clothes, making a complete mess of the room the brunette had cleaned just the day before.
"As long as there's no crying," Santana whispered to herself as she moved to help Brittany sort through the clothes.
Santana spun in the combination for her locker and it clicked open. She lifted the latch and opened the door to reveal the emptiness inside. Sighing, she heaved her books from where she had set them on the ground to the bottom of her locker, already regretting the heavy load of classes she had saddled herself with this year. She had done it because Brittany was in all of those classes and she needed to get assignments and help her with homework when she had the baby in November.
A small smile wormed its way onto Santana's face as a folded piece of paper fluttered to the ground from her book bag and she bent down to pick it up. She unfolded it and gazed down at the sonogram of Brittany's baby before sticking it to the inside of her locker door with a magnet left over from the year before.
"Hey, why were you late this morning?" Quinn asked, appearing at Santana's elbow.
The brunette jumped in surprise. "Oh my God, Quinn, you can't sneak up on me like that!"
"Sorry," Quinn muttered. "I thought you saw me coming."
"Yeah, well, I didn't," Santana said defensively. "And the reason we were late this morning was because Brittany almost had a breakdown when she found out she couldn't fit into any of her clothes from last school year. She thought people wouldn't think she was hot anymore."
"You should have called me," Quinn said. "How bad was it?"
"I have to take her shopping," Santana muttered, turning back to her locker and straightening out her books. "Of course, as long as she's happy, I'm fine."
"Do you hear yourself?" Quinn laughed. "You sound like an unwilling husband."
"Shut up!" Santana hissed, turning to look around the hallway to make sure no one heard. "Do you really think that's the way she wants people to look at us? Like she got pregnant then broke up with Artie so she could have a kid with me?"
Quinn sighed. "Santana, what is this about?"
"Nothing, I just…." Santana turned back to her locker. "I feel like if I don't protect her, Britt's just going to fade away. She's so innocent, Quinn, and then she had this horrible thing happen to her and I don't know what I'm going to do if…." She buried her face in her hands.
"Santana, you don't have to do this by yourself," Quinn said. "Brittany's got plenty of friends who are more than willing to help her out. Her parents are there for her, her teachers are there for her… it's not your burden to bear."
"What if it was me?"
The blonde stared at her for a moment. "What?"
"I said, what if it was me?" Santana asked, lifting her head from her hands. "I mean, out of the three of us, what are the chances that I would be the only one who didn't end up getting pregnant? After all, I'm the one who's had the most sex."
"I… don't… understand," Quinn said slowly.
Santana grabbed Quinn's wrist and pulled her into a nearby classroom, shutting the door behind them. "Think about if I was the one who was pregnant right now instead of Brittany," she said, her eyes hard as they connected with Quinn's. "Or if Puck had gotten me pregnant instead of you."
"I'm still not getting it, Santana."
"There wouldn't be anyone there for me," Santana hissed. "Brittany's got everyone fucking wrapped around her pinky finger and she doesn't even know it. And even after the whole Finn-Puck baby debacle, you had a ton of people who were more than willing to help you out. But if it had been me… I would be alone."
"That's not true," Quinn protested weakly.
Santana laughed humorlessly. "Come on, you have to admit that no one likes me," she said. "If I had gotten pregnant instead of you, you would have done the same thing as I did and completely ignored me. No one would have been sympathetic. It would have been, 'Well, that's what she gets for sleeping around.' And you know how my parents would have reacted."
"You would have had Brittany," Quinn said confidently.
"But would I have?" Santana asked. "You know how much of a bitch I am. Look at how I treated her after she got together with Artie. We barely even talked for weeks. Can you imagine how pissed off I would have been, how much I would have tried to push her away?"
"But that's not the issue, here," Quinn said, shaking her head. "Brittany is the one who's pregnant, not you."
"What if I lose her?" Santana asked quietly as she looked at Quinn insecurely.
"You won't," Quinn said, shaking her head. "Now come on. Brittany's probably wondering where we are and is going to start hyperventilating if we don't get there soon."
"I want to name the baby Mayra."
It was out of the blue and Santana sat stunned on Brittany's bed for a few moments before she responded.
"Britt, that's my middle name," she said slowly.
"I know that, silly," Brittany said, rolling her eyes as she reached across the bed for Santana's hand. "Mayra Susan Pierce. That way, she's named after my two favorite people: you and my mom."
Tears prickled Santana's eyes and she looked away. "What about Artie?"
"What about him?" Brittany asked, tilting her head to the side.
"Doesn't he get a say in the name?" Santana asked. "I mean, he is the father, and he's going to be involved in her life, isn't he?"
Brittany was quiet for a moment. "I don't know," she whispered. "That's his choice, not mine."
"What do you mean?"
"I'm giving the baby up for adoption," Brittany said, raising her eyes to meet Santana's. "My mom's arranged it to be an open adoption so I can visit Mayra and still be a part of her life, but Artie doesn't know if he wants to do that. He says that it'll hurt too much because, while he's her birth father, he'll never be the one she looks up to."
Santana sucked in a breath and pushed down the words rising in her throat about Artie. "So you've found parents?" she asked quietly.
"Yeah," Brittany whispered. "Me and my mom met them last weekend. They're nice. Clarisse, the woman, said that I could visit whenever I wanted, as long as it wasn't in the middle of the night and I gave them a heads-up so they knew to be home. They said I get to name her and that they don't want to take her away from me."
"That's nice," Santana whispered, rubbing her thumb lightly over the back of Brittany's hand. "You know, if you… if you wanted me to go with you the first time or something, I would… that'd be okay. I could drive you or whatever. Pick you up. If you wanted."
Brittany smiled on of her Brittany-smiles. "I'd like that a lot."
"Come on, Santana," Brittany sighed, a hand on her hip. "If we forgot anything, my dad can just come back and get it, okay? And chances are they're going to have it at the hospital gift shop or something."
Santana glances around the room one last time and can't believe that today is the day. After the months of crying, food cravings, attempts to get her in bed, good lucks, and showering of gifts, it was finally time for the baby to be born. And she had a feeling she was twice as nervous as Brittany was.
"You're more of a nervous wreck than I am," Brittany muttered, confirming Santana's thoughts as she lifted the overnight bag onto her shoulder and followed Brittany out of her bedroom. "And that's coming from the girl who's actually pregnant and had to sit through every single one of Quinn's horror stories."
"I told you not to do it," Santana said. "But no, Quinn had already gone through it and there must be something she knows to make it easier. Britt, I had nightmares from those stories."
"Yeah, I know, you kept kicking me all night."
"Not my fault!"
"Come on, girls, we have to go," Mr. Pierce said, smiling nervously at them as he gestured to the front door. "Your mother's already in the car, sweetie."
"Dad, I'm fine," Brittany growled as her father attempted to help her out of the house. He gave Santana a wide-eyed look and she just shook her head. It was one of Brittany's irritable days, which had become less and less rare with every day they got closer to the due date.
"I can't wait until this is over," he whispered, rubbing his forehead as he watched Brittany get into the car.
"Me, too."
All Santana knew was that this wasn't how it was supposed to end.
She slumped against the wall, sliding down to the floor before burying her face in her hands, tears trailing down her cheeks as she struggled to suppress her sobs.
There was supposed to be happiness and tears of joy, balloons and too many teddy bears to choose from. Friends were supposed to swamp the hospital room, wanting to look at the baby, pushing to give Brittany a hug and say congratulations first. Santana was supposed to be watching from the side as Brittany cuddled her baby closer to her and cooed down at the little bundle of joy in her arms.
But that's not how it was.
"Santana?"
Looking up, she saw Mr. Schuester standing a little way down the hall with the entire glee club behind him. They all had gifts or cards and smiles on their faces, which slowly started to fade when they saw Santana on the floor.
"Santana, what is it?"
Her eyes widened and she shook her head as Mr. Schuester approached her and knelt in front of her. He held out his arms and, after a moment of hesitation, Santana threw herself into him, her sobs muffled by his shoulder as she pulled her against his body and attempted to soothe her.
"Santana, what's going on?" he asked gently.
"She's dead."
There were gasps and murmurs.
"There was something wrong from the beginning," Santana cried. "I could tell from the way the doctor was acting, and Brittany could tell, too. And then there was all this… panic before everything got really quiet. I was holding her in my arms. She was so tiny and still… so innocent."
Eyes widened as the glee kids started to realize what Santana was saying.
"How could God let this happen?"
No one could look her in the eye, because no had the answer. And they knew the baby had been just as much Santana's as it had been Brittany's.