Title: Dyslexic Heart
Characters: Brittany/Santana, Puck/Rachel, OCs
Rating: M - Puck and Santana swear like they get paid for it.
Disclaimer: Sadly, I only own the CDs, DVDs and a McKinley Football sweatshirt I got on eBay
A/N: Thank you to Vanille-Strawberry who beta'd this bad boy lickety split! I appreciate it. Check out her fic when you have a chance!
Santana's heart was racing and she could feel what she imagined was the baby thrashing inside her. She briskly wiped her tears with the sleeve of her shirt, remembering her doctor's warning against over exerting herself as well as the potential issues it could cause. The thought that she needed to calm herself down before any of those things happened scared her even more. Her phone beeped again to let her know she had another message but instead of reading it she threw it across the room as she gritted her teeth.
"Ugh!" she grunted. "You gotta quit kicking me so hard, kid! My chest already feels like it's going to burst, you trying to get an early parole really isn't helping."
For what seemed like the longest five minutes of her life, Santana concentrated on slowing her mind as well as her out of control body. As she gently rubbed circles into her belly, the violent kicks inside her slowly dissipated until they became gentle taps, then the child's movements finally stilled.
"I owe you a puppy for that one," she murmured. "Maybe even a pony, we'll see if we have a backyard big enough before I promise that one. Your other, um, Britt would lose her shit if we got a pony so maybe not. How about a big dog like one of those Great Dane things? Those are practically ponies."
"Santana? I thought we had a deal!" Bobby yelled. "I've got those sloppy burgers for you and your 'hawk dude but my griddle still looks like shit."
The moment he saw her crouched on the floor with a pink blotchy face he rushed to her side, sliding most of the way there to settle within a few inches of the emotional girl.
"I thought you said it was too soon for you to have the baby!" he said with panic in his voice. "I'm gonna call 911, you just sit tight hon."
Santana scowled at him but didn't try to stop him from making the call. The day's events were another intense reminder that someone else was completely dependent upon her and the choices she made, so to say that it scared her shitless and simultaneously pissed her off was an understatement. Being confused was something that didn't happen very often in her life; she was normally very confident in her choices, but ever since she had found out she was pregnant she had lost that level of self-assurance.
"I'm okay, Bobby," she croaked. "Porter just texted me and said he's gonna take it when it's born. No way is he getting this kid!"
Bobby just rolled his eyes as he shoved his phone back into his pocket. "He may have the pedigree and the money but, excuse my French, he's an asshole and I don't know what you ever saw in that kid," he admitted. "We both know he's a douchecanoe so I'm glad you're back with Brittany and Puck."
Santana glanced at her shoes, the weird bump in the carpet and then back to her friend. She was immensely embarrassed about her connection to the guy whose DNA had contributed to the child that was currently gestating inside her. It would be easy to blame her parents for instilling the need to be a high achiever to necessitate her need for the ADHD drug, much too easy.
"He was my dealer, okay?" she whispered. "I needed the Ritalin so I could focus on my exams. I couldn't get anything less than a perfect score or I wouldn't make it into the honors law program, don't judge me."
The whine of the ambulance siren was getting closer as Santana continued to unload the edited details of her relationship on her completely shocked friend. He knew that the pair had an off and on again physical relationship but had clearly no clue as to its beginnings.
"Let me suggest now that you never tell your baby how his or her parents got together, okay?" he replied with a smirk.
"Ugh, that won't be any problem" she groaned. "This baby will be raised by Britt, Puck and me and that asshole won't be involved at all. He's just a sperm donor Bobby, that's it."
The older man squeezed her hand, "It's your decision kid. You know I'll back you up no matter what you choose," he said gently.
The surprising sound of Santana's ringtone blaring from across the room made them both jump and simultaneously gasp. They chuckled for a moment as Bobby went to retrieve it, abruptly realizing that the ambulance had arrived, lighting up the diner and piercing the air with its siren.
"Fuck!" she hissed. "Puck said he'd be here to pick me up! He's gonna lose his shit when he sees that ambulance, he'll know it's here for me."
Bobby flinched then fumbled with the phone to send the young man a text in the hopes he would receive it before he arrived to see, what could only be interpreted, as a major emergency.
Unfortunately, Puck had been sitting in the parking lot with Brittany beside him chewing her nails as they waited for Santana to finish her shift. When the cue that an ambulance was nearby both had started silently hoping that it would pass them by and, when it parked in front of the diner, the already on edge Brittany burst into tears.
"B! She just texted me and said she's okay," Puck murmured. "It must be for a customer. Just give her a call and you'll feel a shitton better."
Brittany sniffled a few times while she rummaged through her purse. "O-okay. It'll make me feel better just to hear it right from her," she stammered.
She pushed the quick dial button on her phone and waited nervously for her girlfriend to answer. On the second ring a much deeper voice than Santana's answered, making her stomach drop then churn violently.
"Where's Santana?" Brittany demanded. "Tell me now!"
Bobby stumbled over his words as he struggled to form a coherent sentence. From his experience, when the young woman was angry it was very difficult to calm her down and if, god forbid, she was angry about something having to do with Santana, you were most assuredly screwed. He looked to the flinching girl next to him for some guidance but only got a shrug.
"It's Bobby, hon. Sh-she's okay Brittany," he stuttered. "She just got a text from that douchebag and it made her feel sick. Santana is just being extra careful with, um, the baby so that's why we called the ambulance. She's okay, I promise."
The ambulance sirens drowned out anything that was said after that point despite Santana's yelling and her nearby friend's panicked flailing. With the baby involved, the four adults knew that the ante had been upped a few notches and erring on the side of caution was always the best idea, but they were still considerably frightened. They all were aware of how difficult things were going to be with Graham Porter stirring up trouble, again.
Santana lay on her side in the hospital bed trying to get back to sleep. The multiple monitors beeping around her and their annoying sensors attached to her body were not making this an easy task and she was becoming immensely annoyed. Her growling stomach was just adding to the mayhem in her head. Graham Porter was fucking with her emotions with more ease than when they had been somewhat involved, even if it just was for the drugs he could procure.
"San, just get up and push the button and they'll bring you breakfast," Puck said in between yawns. "Seriously. You've been tossing and turning for the last hour and I'm pretty sure I heard a bear make less noise when it was hungry."
Through her squinted eyes, Santana looked to see Puck on a cot looking just about as bad as she felt. He had a black eye as well as a split lip with some blood stains on his shirt. She must have looked pretty shocked because he explained his appearance immediately.
"Your girlfriend flipped her shit when she saw you being loaded onto that ambulance and started swinging," he began. "She clocked me then kept going until I slapped her, in my own defense I felt like an asshole for doing it but that girl has a strong hook!"
Santana groaned as she pulled the sheet over her head. She had heard Brittany's distressed calls among the voices in the hallway soon after they had admitted her but hadn't had the strength to explain the situation and kept her eyes closed, feigning sleep. Of course now she felt even more ashamed of what she had done, but at the time she was just avoiding a confrontation and scolding.
"So what the fuck happened last night?" he demanded. "One minute I'm sitting outside having a nice conversation about how awesome you were to hook me up with one of those heartburn inducing burgers and the next thing I know I'm panicking that you've gone into labor!."
After she peeked her head out of the covers she saw the angry look on Puck's face and decided to add her pillow to the shield over her head. "I got a text from the douchebag," Santana squeaked.
"I thought you driving your car into his frat house would let him know that you were done with his ass," Puck said in between laughs. "I guess not, huh?"
"Stop laughing at me!" she commanded. "He threatened to take my kid and basically put my face on the side of a milk carton. You know how I deal with threats, I knock a few skulls together and people realize their mistakes."
He nodded. "I've certainly been on the receiving end of your Fists of Fury and a few other of your patented love taps."
"And you deserved it! Every time," Santana purred sadistically. "That'll teach people to ignore my rightness."
Puck just shook his head. Even though they had known each other all through school, it still surprised him when she was just an evil laugh away from a movie egomaniac. He also figured that when she became a mother in a few months that it would be just the push to send her over the edge. At the very least, the transformation would be entertaining.
"Let me interrupt this Santana Lopez moment to ask if you're wondering where your girlfriend the future welterweight is?" he interjected.
The once concealed young woman popped her head out from under her hiding place. She had been so wrapped up in her own drama that she hadn't even thought of where Brittany was. Brittany was never too far away, ever, and she always kept in contact so there was no reason to ever worry. When there were motocross races, of course she worried, because someone she loved was doing something dangerous, but in everyday life she didn't think she had a reason to.
"No," she replied quickly. "I'm sure she's at her work study or practicing on the track, knowing her. She should be at home sleeping."
Puck shook his head, "She's downstairs giving blood because she's scared," he muttered. "She knows she's a universal donor so she's trying to forget how deathly afraid she is of needles and donate blood just in case you need some."
Santana pulled the blanket over her head again. The weight of how hard it was going to be as a parent was hitting her hard, yet again. If she had the choice to run out of the room and drive off into the sunset to avoid dealing with the guilt, she would, but halfway through a pregnancy with a child she wanted, that wasn't an option. It would seem that it was time for the badass to put her money where her mouth was and grow the fuck up.
"Yeah, that's what I thought," Puck replied dryly.
The next morning when Santana was released, Brittany was by her side and held her hand as the orderly pushed the wheelchair to where Puck had parked his truck. She could hardly look the grinning blonde in the eyes after what she had learned the day before. Panic attacks weren't something that she had often but if someone who had passed out more than once after just seeing a needle had given blood, there was a good chance she could figure out how to deal with Graham Porter and the emotional tsunami he'd evoked.
"Puck and I did all the grocery shopping and picked up the house so you didn't have to worry about anything," Brittany whispered. "You can just relax since Dr. Gale says you need to work on de-stressing yourself, okay?"
Santana just nodded as she was helped into the vehicle and gently buckled in. She thanked the orderly who awkwardly smiled instead of replying. The uncomfortable feeling that had begun a few hours ago was gradually becoming a full fledged stomach ache with the potential for a wicked migraine. None of them felt like talking so the drive back to their house was primarily silent, only interrupting the quiet with an occasional gentle touch or a tender kiss. It's exactly what Brittany needed with all the words bouncing around in her head, each fighting to work their way out of her mouth in a loud jumble.
Puck was waiting outside, sitting on the front steps, with a bunch of roses in his arms and a grin on his face. He wasn't used to being in such a quiet atmosphere so the sooner Santana got back to her old self, the better. He needed to hear people arguing and laughing and have someone to talk to because when left to talk to himself, it got a little scary. The things he thought about when alone were filled with thoughts of the "five year plan" his mother always asked him about, which lead to him imagining himself and his roommates as parents in the near future. To make a long story short, he was terrified at the prospect of someone that innocent relying on him as well as looking up to him for guidance. After these terrifying thoughts he found a fifth of Jack to drown those thoughts and played the bloodiest video game he had to remind himself that he was still a badass.
Brittany ran around to the other side of the truck to open the door for her girlfriend when they pulled up outside the house. Santana stepped out slowly, putting one foot down followed by the other. They held each other's hand and waited for the snarky comment from the peanut gallery they knew would soon follow.
"You done scaring the shit out of me for a while?" he yelled. "I cleaned the house for you, y'know. It's so clean you could eat off the floor. "
Santana cocked her head to the side then rolled her eyes back for emphasis. After putting her hands on her hips she stuck her tongue out at the now grinning man. He could definitely make her smile when he said the stupidest things, this is why they needed him around. Despite the fact that they could drive each other to drink and throw things and use the word fuck as creatively as a master painter, he was as necessary in her life, just as Brittany was.
"I see you're still an asshole and all those candles I lit in the hospital in the chapel still haven't worked," Santana drawled. "And if you've even touched my Fudgecicle stash I will burn all your vinyl."
Brittany's face went white as she began to stutter, "Um, I may have had one or two of them yesterday. I'm really sorry, San! I'll go get some more."
Puck burst out laughing and got up to give the panicked girl a hug. "It's okay B," he said gently. "She's just yanking our chain! There's no way she'd do that to my vinyl either since she loves it so much."
"Not all of your vinyl, dear Mr. Puckerman." Santana snarked. "I'm pretty sure there are a few I wouldn't mind cackling loudly while they burn."
She tried to contain her laughter, but after almost choking, Brittany burst out in gales of giggles. Her hand unlinked with her girlfriends to cover her mouth but a few muffled nose snorts escaped between her fingers. The awkward honking in turn made Santana and Puck break out as well, which only made her laugh even more loudly. Within minutes the trio were sitting on the steps gasping for breath and hugging each other as they wiped their own tears.
"I really missed this stuff with you guys," Brittany murmured. "I was so sad when we all had that big fight and you left and it was just me and San in this big house. It was just awful! It's so much better with all three of us, isn't it?"
"Yup," Santana agreed with a nod. "I'd have to go out looking for trouble if it was just me and Britt. Nobody would have yelling matches with me in the middle of the night or make the best steak in this time zone."
Puck shrugged.
Santana smacked the back of his head, followed by a hard pinch to his inner thigh. He yelped loudly then positioned his hands to return what she had given him but was quickly chastised by a panicked blonde.
"Don't you dare do what I think you're about to do!" she hollered. "I know a few vets who would be happy to neuter you for the right price!"
Puck curled his lip and growled, "Nobody can stop Puckzilla! I am a force of nature, like a tornado!"
A surprisingly loud musical ringtone, followed by several text alert notifications on two of their phones interrupted an award winning bad imitation of a dinosaur and a rare moment of relaxation in the stressful current lives of the little chosen family. They all sighed in unison while their laughter slowly died out. Santana wiped a few laughter induced tears from the corners of her eyes while she checked her inbox and waited for Puck and Brittany to check their own phones.
Several flicks of her finger later, Santana checked to see if she should read the message she had received. If it was from Graham or her mother it would be immediately deleted, most likely followed by some expletive laden muttering. For multiple reasons, she sincerely hoped it wasn't either of them. It was starting to shape up to be a great day so it would be a hideous vortex of suck if it went downhill that fast.
Berry
Puck looked up from his hushed conversation to see Santana's screwed up face along with her upper lip raised. He gave her the thumbs up then continued to talk to the other person for a few more minutes, occasionally shrugging his shoulders and shaking his head. Most of the conversation was inaudible, but towards the end of the conversation his responses became louder and filled with expletive laden exclamations. The yelling didn't last long, thankfully, and turned back into a quieter conversation almost as quickly as it has started.
"Just read the text from Rach and I'll explain the rest, okay?" he murmured. He waited for them to comply, a grin starting to curl his lips. "Seriously. Both of you need to read it."
Brittany soon started to laugh, soon followed by Santana. Both of them high fived each other several times before shifting their attention to the only calm person amongst them.
"Ain't that just a shame that Douchey the Boy Blunder got arrested?" Puck asked. "It's just awful that he sold some drugs to an undercover cop, too. I do have to say that I do love having a girlfriend who works at a TV station, it does have its perks."
"She also listens to her police scanner like she gets paid for it!" Brittany said in between giggles. "Should I feel guilty I don't feel one little bit sad that he got arrested? I can't tell you how many times that perv propositioned me. Asshat."
Santana just stood there with her mouth hanging open, her mind racing as she thought of multiple scenarios that all started with her being hauled into jail along with all the other people listed in Graham's "black book" and given a long sentence and ended with a painful labor after she's forced to have her baby behind bars.
"I am so fucked," she whispered. "He is going to squeal like the douchey pig he is and drag everyone down with him, especially me. Pardon me while I lay down for a moment and try to not lose my shit."
Brittany and Puck both helped her up the stairs and into the living room to the big, overstuffed couch. Santana slowly lowered herself to sit as she brought a cushion closer to hug it tightly. Off the charts terrified seemed to be her new default setting and she did not appreciate it, not one bit. Her life, for the last few months, had seemed to mirror a badly written soap or telenovela her grandmother had subjected her to every summer vacation due to her involvement with one Graham Porter. He needed to fall off the face of the planet before this baby showed up or she was going to lose her mind.
A/N 2: Wow. It has been almost forever since I posted, where has the time gone? Thank you for sticking with me, I appreciate it. I'm also working on Patience is for Amateurs so, fingers crossed, I'll get another chapter of that out soon.