Out Of Our Hands
Summary:
I watched my babies sleep and wondered how our lives became this screwed up. I get them for a week and then she has them the next; the two of us barely saying three words to each other. We went from happy and in love to divorced and co-parenting all because of a fucked up misunderstanding. Brittana AU. Endgame.
Disclaimer:
I do not own Glee or any of its characters and everything in this story is purely fiction. None of the material in this story is to be published anywhere else by anyone else without my written permission.
-O.O.O.H-
Out Of Our Hands
Chapter One
When the twins were born, we were thrilled; over the fucking moon. Santana brought them into our lives with the help of a blonde haired, blue eyed sperm donor.
Our baby girl came first; Scarlett Lucy Lopez-Pierce. I cut her ombilical cord and I was so scared I'd hurt her. Her tiny fingers and toes were all there along with two brown eyes (strange, seeing as though all babies are usually born with blue eyes. But Santana was born with brown eyes too), exactly ten blonde hairs on her head, one nose, one mouth and the cutest little belly you've ever seen. She wailed and shrieked as the nurse wrapped her in a blanket and handed her to me.
I was so scared I'd drop her; she was so small - so delicate - and so, so perfect. I held her for five seconds exactly before instinctively handing her to my wife - current ex-wife - who took her with the utmost gentleness and care. I watched them bond and smiled as Santana ran the tip of her index finger down the bridge of Scarlett's nose to the tip.
As soon as the nurse took Scarlett back to be washed, weighed and dressed, the doctor said it was time to start pushing again. Santana had been given an epidural so, she didn't feel the pain and immediately started pushing again to get our boy out.
He was in the world after four minutes; Matteo Gabriel Lopez-Pierce. He had ten fingers, ten toes, a wrinkled up forehead and a cute button nose. I cut his ombilical cord and the nurse wrapped him up before handing him to me. He had a full head of dark, raven hair and two beautiful blue eyes. His eye color might change, I told myself, but I couldn't help but smile at how he had 'my eyes'.
I gave him to Santana who held him carefully and with so much love. She also ran the tip of her index finger down the bridge of his nose to the tip before greeting him like she did Scarlett and letting the nurses take him away to be washed, weighed and changed.
We named our baby boy Matteo - which is pronounced Matthew but he's Matteo when he's in trouble. My nickname for him is Matty while Santana calls him Teo. Scarlett is Scar to everyone - our little princess.
Matteo's eyes didn't change color - they stayed blue. And Scar's eyes didn't change either. And I know all parents say this about their kids but: God, they're beautiful.
When we brought our beautiful babies home from the hospital and laid them in their cribs, we were more of a family than ever - everything went downhill from there. We spent two years as a family before mine and Santana's divorce.
And now, it's three years later, our twins are five and Santana and I haven't slept in the same bed for three and a half years. And, to be honest - since I have no secrets with you in my head - I fucking miss her.
"Yeah, yeah, I'm on my way. There's a hell of a lot of traffic so, keep your knickers on." I say into my car - I have my phone connected to the bluetooth in my car and can receive calls while I'm driving without having to hold the phone to my ear - surely you're familiar with it.
"There's always a lot of traffic. Who are you fucking this time?" Came the bitter voice of my ex-wife. I roll my eyes and sigh, hitting my left indicator and stopping at the red light.
"Santana, for Christ's sake, we weren't even together. Why are you still pissed about that?" I ask as the light goes green and I make a left.
"Our kids were in the house." She snaps and I sigh. She's right about that - bad parenting on my side but, in my defence, it was three-thirty in the morning and they were four.
I was just casually seeing this girl - Olivia - and she came over in the middle of the night during my week with the kids. (She'd ignored the fact that I told her not to come over.) And she was shit-faced drunk... I was a little tipsy off wine with the girls and had just gotten into bed when she climbed through my bedroom window and pounced on me. Unfortunately, I accidentally butt dialed Santana and she heard everything. But the kids slept through everything so, I have no fucking idea why she's still nutting at me about it.
"It was a year ago and just because you're jealous that I was getting some ass and you weren't doesn't mean you can hold it over my head forever." I state and immediately regret it, "You know what I mean. And the kids never even met her."
"Fucking child." Santana mutters and sighs, "Just hurry up, I'm late for work. I have a meeting."
"I'm outside." I say and chuckle, "Santana, you really need to stop stress-"
And she hung up.
I roll my eyes and climb out of my car to greet my babies. I lean against the drivers door and face the front door of what used to be my house too but was given to Santana in the divorce. The large black door opens and a little dark haired munchkin shoots me a toothless smile of excitement. I clap my hands together once and bend down to catch him as he races down the front steps and across the paved path. He leaps into my arms and squeals happily.
"Mommy!" He squeaks with a happy laugh and cups my cheeks with his chubby little hands.
They're still five so, their hands and cheeks are still chubby and adorable.
"There's my boy!" I say happily and pepper his cheeks with kisses, "Where's Scar?"
"On the pooper." Matty replies and I pull a face.
"A little too much information there, kiddo." I chuckle and put him on my hip as I move along the paved path and up the front steps. I put him down at the door and watch him tug on my shirt to pull me inside.
"I just kidding, mommy. Scar's in her room packing her stuff." Matty says and laughs, "But your face was funny."
He hits his knee as he laughs and I snort out a laugh of my own, rolling my eyes at the strange little being before me.
Santana comes walking out of the kitchen dressed in her work clothes - a tight fitting, long, black pencil skirt and a colorful blouse with matching heels - and I can't help but smile at how she hasn't changed, "Go get your bag, Matteo, for the last time. I won't ask you again." She scolds and Matty stomps upstairs to get his stuff. Santana nonchalantly waves me inside and I close the door, leaning against it as she fiddles with her iPhone.
"Hi," I say and she glances up at me before looking back at her phone.
"We spoke on the phone, Brittany. You don't need to say hi again." She states irritably.
"Irritated much?" I ask - just to push her buttons. She glares at me and dials a number.
"For fuck's sake, answer your damn phone the first time, nitwit." Santana hisses under her breath so the kids don't hear her swear, "I don't care how sorry you are, just pick up your phone!"
My ex-wife is a lawyer - a fucking brilliant lawyer - and with her, work is a major priority. One of the things that ruined our marriage - but we'll get into that later.
"Where's my favorite Scar?" I call up the stairs and a little blonde head pokes out from behind the wall at the top of the mahogany staircase. I chuckle at my cheeky little monkey and give her a wink. She smiles mischievously and I raise my eyebrow, "What about my hug, monkey?"
"Mommy, Mommy!" She squeals and tries her utmost best to come down the stairs as fast as she can while Santana walks across the front room, her heels clicking on the wood as she walks into the living room, still on the phone.
I catch Scarlett and twirl her around earning happy giggles and a sloppy kiss to the cheek, "You packed and ready, princess?"
"Yeah! I even tied my shoes all by myself!" She informs me and I give her a high five, "Matty just is bringing our backpacks because he says that he's the man and the man must be a gently-man."
"Gentleman." I correct with a smile and kiss her head before putting her down on the bottom step, "And that's very true."
"Okay, listen, I have a meeting that's gonna run late Sunday night so, I'll stop by your place and pick them up on my way home." Santana said as she tucked her phone back into her large purse and slung her purse on the crease in her elbow, briefcase in her other hand dangling from her index finger.
"What time exactly?" I ask and she furrows her brow.
"Late." She replies, "I just said that. It's running late. Why? Got a date?"
I roll my eyes and sigh, "No, Santana, I don't have a date. I just wanted to know."
Santana inhaled deeply through her nose and out through her mouth as she got down on her haunches to kiss our kids when Matty plonked down his and Scar's backpacks on the floor. She gave our twins a wide, happy smile and pecked their foreheads before running the tip of her index finger down the bridges of their noses and bopping the tips.
"Be good for mommy and don't cause trouble at the salon." She said and I tucked my hands into my jacket pockets as she gave them her routine warnings, "And always use soap."
I smile and let them have their goodbye. She's been telling them to always use soap since they turned two. It's been a thing with herself and the twins since Scar and Matty's first shower with her. They'd always have baths either with me or by themselves with either San or me watching but one night they wanted to shower with momma.
"I'm just gonna go take a shower, baby, I'll only be a minute." Santana said as she grabbed a towel from the linen cupboard in the hall upstairs. I gave her a nod as I picked up toys thrown haphazardly onto the hall floor.
"Momma, you can let me shower with you!" Scar squeaked as she stood in the doorway of her bedroom.
"Hasn't slept a wink." I muttered with a smile and Matty came waddling out of his room; also wide awake.
"And me!" He agreed happily. Santana chuckled and took out their bath towels.
"Come on then, munchkins." She said and the twins followed Santana into our bedroom. She walked into the en suite bathroom and they followed closely as she did.
As soon as all three were in our pretty big shower with the water on and their loofahs in their hands, Scar started scrubbing her belly and Santana chuckled.
"Do you have soap on that?" She asked as she squirted shower gel onto hers and Matty's loofahs.
"No. I always clean, I don't need soap." Scar said as a red mark appeared on her belly from all her scrubbing.
"Always use soap, Scar!" Matty squeaked with a clumsy eye roll.
"Yeah, Scar, always use soap." Santana teased, "Don't you use soap when you bath?"
"I gonna say yes." Scar said and I snorted as I listened to them converse.
"Are you lying?" San asked and I leaned my head against the doorframe and closed my eyes, just listening.
"I gonna say yes again." Scar mumbled and Santana laughed. I watched her squeeze shower gel onto Scarlett's deep purple loofah and Matty was scrubbing away at his legs and tummy.
"Always use soap."
"I remember, momma, don't worry." Scar says and Matty nods vigorously. Santana gently pokes Matty's adorable little belly and pretends to steal Scar's nose. They both giggle and wrap their little arms around Santana's neck. She gives them a tight squeeze in their group hug and then pulls out, standing and brushing down her skirt.
"Alright, momma's really late for her meeting so, let's go." I say and pick up the two backpacks on the floor.
"That's okay, mommy, I got it." Matty tells me and takes the bags from me, throwing a strap from each bag over each shoulder, "Let's get going, troops, don't want momma to get in trouble with her work."
"Yeah, come on, kids. Let's get outta here!" Scar agrees and the two of them walk out the now open front door.
"Bunch of crazies." Santana mumbles with a smile.
"Yeah, well, they're your kids." I state cheekily as I walk out the front door. Santana chuckles and locks it behind us.
"Your kids."
-O.O.O.H-
Pearl - 9.47 a.m.
I walk into my hair salon and greet my receptionist, "Hey, Rach." I say and lean over the front counter to peck her cheek.
"Hiya, gorg. Hey, kids! Oh, I've missed you, come gimme a hug!" Rachel exclaims happily and Scar's the first to race up to her while Matty carries in their backpacks. I told him not to bring them in but he insisted that he and Scar were gonna color and they had their coloring things in their bags.
"Hey aunt Rach!" Scar squeals and lets Rachel cover her face in kisses. I chuckle and take the two backpacks from my wonderfully caring son.
"Thanks, mommy. I take them again after I say hi." He says and then pats my calf before hugging Rachel.
Rachel isn't actually the receptionist for my salon but our receptionist is on leave so, she's filling in. She's actually the salon manager. She keeps everything in check and her polite smile and friendly nature bring in a lot of customers.
I bought Pearl the year before the twins were born and Santana and I are actually co-owners but, I got the salon in the divorce and she got the house. My stylists are incredible as well. We have eight stylists in total and, according to the amount of money each stylist brings in every month with clients asking for them, we range them from top stylist to least popular. We have:
In first: Me, but that's because I own the salon. I have a lot of clients too.
Second: Lizzy Fredericks. She is gayer than a fucking bar fight and I love her to pieces - we went to beauty school and studied together - and clients absolutely adore her. She's butcher than any of the guys in the salon and has a dyed black comb over. She never goes against the dress code - a white shirt with black jeans or suit pants and closed shoes - and, gonna sound creepy, always smells great.
Third: Mercedes Jones. Sassy, sexy, full of soul and an absolute angel. I'm not being racist but, because she's black, the entire black community asks for her to do their hair.
Fourth: Blaine Anderson. Constantly wearing bow ties, wears too much gel in his hair, has crazy good style and has the best taste in music. We also play music in the salon throughout the day and if he's not busy with a client, he's dancing.
Fifth: Kurt Hummel. Gayer than a circus, dating Blaine, constantly talking about fashion and commenting on what clients are wearing. They enjoy being complimented and, because he's a flamboyant gay, women like to have him do their hair - especially moms.
Sixth: Cade Black. Cockier than a fucking Hugo Boss model, thinks he's the best thing since sliced bread and hits on all the younger female clients. He's a good stylist, sure, but he's not a good person. I don't like him.
Seventh: Sugar Motta. She's new and gossips constantly which is why this job is perfect for her. To be a hairstylist, you have to be talkative. All the richest women in Los Angeles call in and ask for Sugar to do their hair.
Eighth: Finn Hudson. Far too shy but a good stylist nonetheless. He usually does men's cuts and gave Matty a mean comb over for his fourth birthday last year. Too bad Matty's hair grows like Santana's - faster than light - and it was grown back in like a month.
There's only two clients in so far but it's still early and the salon closes at 6. We're literally fully booked today - and not the kind of fully booked that we tell clients just because our stylists don't wanna - properly full up. Lizzy and Finn are styling right now while the rest of the stylists are probably in the kitchen drinking coffee or outside smoking.
"Don't run, kids. Go to my office quietly, please." I say to my kids and they both nod. Matty takes the bags from me and they walk toward my office, giving Lizzy and Finn high fives in greeting, "When's my first client?"
"Uh, 10.30." Rachel replies, looking at the computer with all the bookings. I nod and pat the counter, "You see San today?"
"Yeah, I picked the kids up from her place." I say and Rachel nods.
"She doin' okay?" She asks.
"I don't know how she's doing, she never tells me." I sigh out and Rachel smiles in sympathy, "But she's incredibly tight assed because of some case. Irritable, snappy, in a not-putting-up-with-shit mood. You know how San gets."
"Girl needs to get laid." Says Mercedes as she walks up behind me and puts her comb down on the counter.
"Well, I think she is." I say and steal a sweetie from the sweetie bowl on the counter, "I think she's maybe been seeing someone."
"Bull shit." Mercedes says in a hushed tone, "You're the only person Santana's been committed to. If she's gettin' busy then it's a booty call, it ain't her seeing someone. Seeing someone is dating and she's not like that. I mean, I still don't know how you tied her down."
"Me neither. And that's probably why it's never gonna happen again." I state and sigh, "Okay, I gotta go see to the monsters."
-O.O.O.H-
The day at the salon was long and busy. We made a helluva lot of money today so, I'm happy to be tired.
I pull up into my parking space at my apartment building and sigh, eyes closing and head resting against the headrest, "You kids still awake?" I ask tiredly.
"Uh-huh!" Matty replies energetically.
"Yuppers!" Scar says after, "We didn't get dinner yet!"
"Oh, right. Dinner." I sigh and scratch my head, "Whadaya guys say to McDonald's drive thru?"
"Yeah!" They squeal in unison and I chuckle, starting the car again and pulling out of my space.
We drive to McDonald's and go through the drive thru, "Kiddies, before we head home, I gotta grab some stuff from the store." I tell them after paying.
"'Kay." They say in unison and I look at them through the rear view mirror and smile.
We stop at the store and go in, Matty holding one hand and Scar holding the other. We move down the isles and I stop at the wine. Scar and Matty are now in front of me pushing a mini cart and I take a bottle of red off the shelf and put it into the cart.
"Do you two bananas want anything?" I ask and my kids nod, "What do you want? Go grab it but stay together. I'll be here."
Matty and Scar nod and hold hands as they disappear around the corner to get what they want. Santana and I taught them to always stick together if they're walking anywhere without one of us. They know to scream as loudly as possible if someone tries to hurt them and they know to always listen for either me or Santana to do our special whistle. The holding hands thing was just natural with them. It's adorable to see and warms my heart but if they're still holding hands in five years I'll be fucking worried and maybe on the verge of checking out a Greek God tragedy.
I keep browsing the wines and pick up a bottle of dry white, looking over the bottle before deciding to put it in the cart. I can feel someone else in the isle and look to my left.
Fucking for real.
"Hey San-" I greet and then finish, realising the nickname, "-tana."
My ex-wife looks toward me from where her eyes were on the wine and she smiles tiredly, "Hi. What are you doing here? Are the kids here?" She asks.
"Yeah, they are. Most probably raiding the sweetie isle. I just wanted to grab some of th-"
"Wine. Yeah, me too." Santana finishes for me and I nod, "To be honest, I actually shouldn't but, when I have the kids I don't drink as often as I do when I don't have them."
"Yeah, ditto. I usually have a glass-" I start but she cuts me off.
"-with dinner. I remember." She says gently and starts scanning the shelf I'm facing. I take off a bottle of Merlot and hand it to her. She looks at me with a surprised expression and I smile.
"I remember things too." I tell her simply.
"You remember more about me than I do." She says and sniffs as she looks at her feet, "I miss that sometimes. I can't even remember where I put the dustpan."
"Linen cupboard." I remind her without thinking and a smile takes over her face, "You prefer to keep it in there because if it's in the cupboard under the sink, people lose it."
"Thank god I bumped into you, I mess everywhere." Santana says with a small chuckle. She's still in her work clothes so, I'm assuming she came straight from work.
"How was work?" I ask and she scoffs.
"A fucking cunt. Pardon my french." She replies and I watch her jaw clench. Even though that word should've made this entire situation awkward, it wasn't. Things have never been awkward between the two of us - ever. Even during the divorce, we were always comfortable in each other's company.
"That's alright, we all have bad days." I state and Santana glances at me before looking back at the wine selection.
"Mommy, we got the stuff we want." Scar drawls down the isle as herself and Matty walk down the isle, hand in hand, arms full of chips and sweets. I smile and Santana does too, "Wha- Momma?! Whada you doing here?!"
"This is the store, gorgeous, I'm buying things." Santana replies with a chuckle as she gets down on her haunches again and pecks two little foreheads before running the tip of her finger down the bridges of two tiny noses, bopping the tips.
"Momma, mommy gots us McDonald's." Matty tells her with a wide, toothless smile.
"Wow, lucky duckies." Santana says and I snort out a laugh at her word choice. She was always so animated with our kids but around adults she was - I don't wanna be horrible and I mean it in the best possible way - a bitch. She was never a bitch around me or to me but she could snap at me like a fucking eagle.
"I gotta put all this sweets in the cart." Scar says and Matty whines.
"No, Scar, that's my job! I'm the boy, not you, dinky-donkey."
Santana laughs genuinely and stands again, "They're your kids." She says.
"Your kids."
-O.O.O.H-
A/N:
Whadaya think? Next chapter to come if you want more.
I'll update Extraordinary sometime this week.