This is my first Brittany/Santana story, and this is basically the dream I had the other night, (except it seems I was Santana), so I have just built on my dream. One shot!

PS. Trigger warnings: mentions of rape.

I wiped my arm across my forehead as I listened to the principal drone on and on. I don't know what is happening to me. I feel like I'm about to drop dead. I don't want to be here. I should be at home where I belong, taking care of my girlfriend. She needs to be taken care of. I looked at the mass of people surrounding me in the cramped hall. When did it get so hot? I need to get out of here. I pushed past person after person until I reached the door and the empty corridor that lay beyond it. I heard my name being hissed, but I ignored it. I need to get out. I dragged myself to the girls' bathroom and leant against the sink, staring at myself in the mirror. My face was pale and sweaty. I quickly splashed some water on it and headed out to my car, leaving the college behind me.

I opened the door without making a sound. Everything was quiet inside my girlfriend's house. I walked into the kitchen and greeted her mother warmly. She gave me a hug and a concerned look.

"Are you feeling okay? You look sort of pale," she asked, feeling my forehead.

"I'm fine," I replied. "It's just hot today."

She nodded in understanding. "Go on up. She's waiting for you. Oh, and dinner's at 7."

I turned and began to make my way up the carpeted stairs to her room. Our room. I had moved in a couple of months ago. My parents hadn't exactly taken our news well, so I'd come here. This was like my second family anyway, and I'd long since gotten over my parents' rejection. It hurt, yes, but I had more important things to worry about.

I knocked on the door softly before entering. I chuckled to myself, realising that the pile of blankets on the bed was in fact my girlfriend, her hair splayed out across the pillow. I slipped my shoes off and got in the bed behind her.

"San?" She mumbled.

"I'm home baby," I wound my arm around her, my hand resting protectively on her protruding bump.

Let me start over. Brittany and I are 20 years old. I attend college here in Lima. When Britt couldn't graduate in 2012, I changed my mind about pursuing my dreams and stayed at home until she graduated the year after. A few drunken nights of celebrating and some pretty memorable months later, I proposed when on a trip to visit friends in New York. Everything was fine, until the night before we were due to return home to Lima. Brittany had been to the store alone, and when walking back she was attacked. She never could tell me exactly what happened, but the bastard raped her. My Brittany, my lovely innocent Brittany, raped. By some thug. We got justice, of course, and Brittany ended up pregnant. And that's how our story began. We'd decided to keep it, raise it as our own, and never tell our child how he or she was really conceived. It doesn't matter to us. He or she is ours, and will be loved by both of us. I only have a few days left of college, and then when the baby is born the three of us will be leaving Lima for good and heading to New York, where Britt can teach dance and I can pursue my singing. The three of us. Our family.

"Santana?" Brittany turned over carefully and her piercing blue eyes caught mine. "I don't feel too good." She winced.

"Are you too hot?" I asked worriedly, feeling her forehead. "You are a little clammy, I'll get a cloth and-"

"San," Britt interrupted me. "I think it's time."

My eyes widened. "What? It's too early; you're not due for another 3 weeks!"

She silenced me with a kiss. "The doctor said it's perfectly normal Santana, remember?"

I nodded, my eyes still wide. Brittany inhaled sharply as a pain rippled through her. "Britt?" I began to panic.

"I'm fine," she reassured me. "Breathe, San."

I did as she said. "Aren't I supposed to be telling you that?" I took a deep breath. "How long have you been having them?"

"A while, but it's getting more frequent."

"Shall I get your mom?"

She nodded. She seemed calm and in control. I was freaking out, what if something happened to Britt? What if something happened to the baby? Oh my, a baby. How are we supposed to keep a baby alive? I can't even keep fish alive!

"Santana?" Brittany interrupted my thoughts. I looked at her blankly. "My mom?"

"Your mom. Yes, of course." I ran down the stairs and stopped in the kitchen, breathless.

"I think Britt's in labour!" Her mouth dropped open, and she snatched up the phone.
"Go and get her ready," she commanded me quietly as she began dialling.

I didn't need telling twice. I entered the room to find Brittany attempting to stand and fetch her bag.

"Whoa, Mommy!" I gently pushed her back down. "Mamí's got it."

She smiled briefly at my use of our soon to be official names, until her face contorted in pain. I flew to her side in terror, gripping her hands until it was over. I kissed her softly and helped her up from the bed.

"Ready to go meet Baby Lopez-Pierce?" I squeezed her hand comfortingly, seeing the trace of fear beneath the confident exterior. She had tried so hard to be strong for my sake. I had told her that I would support her whatever she decided, and that it was up to her whether to keep the baby or not, but she was adamant that she would carry our baby. Our child. It sounds right saying that. Our child.

I dropped to my knees before she could take a step, and placed a kiss on her bump.

"Mamí loves you." I whispered. I looked up to see tears brimming in Brittany's eyes.

"B?" I asked, wiping the tears from her cheeks.

"I'm just so happy," her face was full of love.

This was it. The moment when our lives would change forever.

"Let's go."

Hours later I sat by Brittany's bedside, gazing at her lovingly. She was fast asleep on the tall hospital bed, and she was snoring lightly. I stood up silently and made my way over to the foot of the bed for what seemed like the thousandth time.

The newborn blinked up at me, his dark hair damp and curly. I stroked his hand gently, and he clutched my finger in his little fist.

"Hey little guy," I whispered. He began to whimper softly, and I carefully picked him up. I held him against my chest and returned to my seat. His eyes were wide, and he stared at me in awe. He looked so much like Brittany. My heart swelled with love for the perfect little being in my arms. He whimpered again, and I rocked him slowly, singing quietly.

For you, there'll be no more crying.

For you, the sun will be shining.

As I sang his eyes never left my face, and all the while he kept hold of my finger.

And I love you I love you I love you,

Like never before.

I dropped a kiss on the now sleeping baby's head, and looked over at my fiancée.

She lay there beaming at me.

"How long have you been awake?" I asked, embarrassed.

"Since he started crying," she admitted. "That was beautiful Santana."

I reached over with my spare hand and laced my fingers through hers, smiling.

She looked down at him. "I know it's not even possible, but he looks like us Santana. Our son."

At her words my face split into a huge grin, and tears of happiness sprung to my eyes. I leaned across, careful not to wake him, and met her lips. "I love you."

I glanced down at him, at my son. "I love you too. James Lopez-Pierce." It sounded good. Britt squeezed my fingers, smiling. She yawned.

"I'm so tired." She yawned again.

I untangled my fingers and gently put James on her chest, before climbing up to lay beside her. I took her in my arms, my head on her shoulder, and held them both close as she drifted off to sleep. My heart was bursting with love and joy. I didn't think it was possible for me to be this happy. I had come a long way since high school, when I was afraid of showing my love for Brittany. Back then I thought I'd never have the courage to be with her, let alone propose and have a baby. Officially we've been together 3 years, and some may say we've gone into things too fast, that we're too young to know what we want, but I know what I want. Brittany is my soulmate, and I'll always love her. From a young age every future I imagined had her included. Early years she was always there as a friend, but as our relationship evolved and changed, I knew that she was the one I wanted to spend the rest of my life with. My Brittany. Also now little James, and any future Lopez-Pierce offspring. I loved calling myself Santana Lopez-Pierce, even though we're not technically married yet. Brittany's always scolding me for introducing myself to people like that before our wedding, but I can't help it. I can't wait to call her my wife.

I yawned; the stress of the day was finally taking its toll.

"Welcome to the world baby," I whispered, and watched him sleep through my closing eyelids, before succumbing to the darkness and joining my family in their dreams.

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