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*July*
-Quinn-
He's still here when I wake up. It's been weird getting used to that.
Ever since school got out, he took me to meet his mom in Brooklyn. We've been staying with her.
It's been great, aside from the kosher, no meat thing. She loves me, and she's like the mom I wish I had.
I miss everyone. But I know I'll see them when school gets back in. So I'm enjoying this time while I've got it.
I'm curled up next to his chest, listening to his heartbeat. It's slow and even, his breaths are heavy, he's still asleep.
I carefully slip my hand under his shirt and run my fingers up his chest, placing my palm over his heart, feeling it beat against my skin.
The movement makes him stir, and I can feel his muscles tensing as he wakes up.
"Morning Q." He yawns.
"Good Morning." I purr, raising an eyebrow and kissing him right above his collar bone.
The kissing gets more desperate, passionate and deep. Until I try to pull him on top of me and he tenses up and pulls back, sitting up on the bed.
"What?" I ask him, confused. "Morning breath?" I raise a hand to my mouth and check it.
He shakes his head. "I, uh, I just, I don't." He stammers.
My face falls, and my hands fiddle with the hem of my tank top. "I knew it." I whisper.
"Knew what?"
"I told you, you wouldn't still be attracted to me." My voice is low and shaky. I can feel tears stinging my eyes. This was exactly what I was afraid of. I'm so pregnant and fat and he probably thinks I'm hideous and he's going to see some gorgeous, skinny girl and leave me to fend for myself. What if even after I have the baby, my body never goes back to the way it was. What if it's not even close!
"No, baby, no, that's not what it is!" He tries to reach for my hand but I pull it to my chest.
"Don't, I'm tired okay?" I hold the tears in, trapping them in my throat and keep my eyes on my knees.
"Quinn, I," He starts. But I shake my head. "I'll just, run to the store then. Do you want anything?"
I don't respond.
He just leaves.
-Rachel-
The paint roller makes a sticky sound as I cover up the last strip of white in our baby's nursery. I drop the paint roller onto the tarp on the floor and admire my work.
All four walls have been painted lilac purple. I finally convinced Finn to let me decorate the nursery with a butterfly theme.
It's going to have pink gingham curtains with little wooden picket fences on the windowsills.
All the furniture is white and we bought a butterfly mobile to hang over the crib. All the accents have flowers or butterflies on them and the crib bedding is also purple with butterflies.
I'm so excited for Finn to see it when it's done. I'm spending the entire day today on it. It's Finn's shift at the bar and he has a meeting with the guys and their manager tonight so he won't be home til later.
Everything is piled up in the living room and just need to be pushed into the room and arranged.
Everything except the crib.
Finn helped me assemble the changing table but when we were done I could tell I could have done it myself.
But I can't lug all the furniture and clothes and what not into the room by myself so I called Kurt and Blaine to come and help me.
They should be over in an hour or so, I could get a head start on putting the crib together.
I grab the box cutter from Finn's toolbox and cut open the box. The directions are lying on top of a neatly piled heap of wooden parts and metal joints.
Unfolding them in my hands, my mouth drops open in horror.
The directions are in german. GERMAN! My cousin Penny sent me the crib as a gift, but she's certainly NOT German!
I flip the paper over, searching for an English version, but there's none to be found.
I can do this, maybe the pieces will be obvious. I reach into the box and pull out what appears to be a white, wooden, rotating torture device.
I groan and drop the piece back into the box.
I glance at the front of the box, it features a bright and sunny picture of what the crib will look like put together. It's so adorable, with no indication that it was German manufactured. I peak at the directions in an attempt to decipher something that will be helpful.
What the FUCK is a Stabilisierenstab?
Frustrated, I toss the directions across the room and cry out some choice words.
"Rach?" Kurt's wary voice rings out from the living room. He and Blaine must be here.
"In the nursery!" I sob.
They hover in the doorway and look at me sadly. "Oh, Rach." Blaine crouches down in front of my and swipes his thumbs under my eyes to wipe away the escaped tears.
"What's wrong?" Kurt asks, walking around the room and observing my work.
"The directions to the crib." I tell him.
Kurt picks them up off of the floor and holds them close to his face. "German?"
I nod furiously. "They're GERMAN!"
"It's okay," Kurt soothed.
"HOW? Do you know German?" I exclaim.
"No." He responds and I drop my head in her hands. "But Blaine does." He says excitedly.
"Really?"
"Yeah, I took it last year, I mean I'm not fluent, but I can probably pick out some words." He takes the directions from Kurt and scans them.
"Think you can translate any of it?" Kurt reads over his shoulder.
"Shouldn't be too hard. This says you need a screwdriver, does Finn have one?"
"Yeah, I'll be right back." I go back to Finn's toolbox. Silently thanking Blaine's German Professor.
-Santana-
I wake up in Kurt's apartment. Hungover, again. I wake up like this a few times a week, ever since I left the hospital.
That was the straw that broke the camel's -ughhhh migraine- whatever.
After everything that happened this year, I just couldn't deal with it anymore, not without a little help.
These bad things keep happening to the people I care about and it's just not fucking fair.
So the parties, and the alcohol, they helped me escape. Now I feel like I've been sucked into another life.
I dark, twisted spiral of hazy shards that, if pieced together right, form some semblance of a life.
My throat feels dry and cracked, my eyes are unfocused and I can barely sit up without feeling like I'm gonna throw up.
I blindly flail my arm around my nightstand searching for my cell phone. I finally find it and hold it up to my face.
Seven missed calls. Brittany, Rachel, Brittany, Brittany, Daddy, Rachel and Brittany. Seven voicemails.
I dial my voicemail and hold the phone up to my ear.
"San? It's Brit. Where are you? We were supposed to give Lord Tubbington a bath tonight. Call me."
"Santana Lopez, you answer your phone this very second! Santana? Where are you!" Oh, Rachel.
"Tany? I'm getting worried, please answer your phone. Please?"
"Santana, are you mad at me? Is that what's wrong? Whatever I did, I probably I didn't mean to. I'm sorry!"
"Santana, your mother and I recieved a concerned phone call from your girlfriend this evening. Your not picking up is not reassuring. Call us back."
"Can you explain to me why I have a sobbing Brittany in my lap right now? My baby hormones are not liking this Santana. I need to start the nursery! But I can't with her attached to me like this! Whatever you did, FIX IT!"
The last voicemail was Brit again, she was clearly trying to say something, but what ever it was was muffled by her crying. The only thing I could understand was a soft "I love you." at the end. My heart sank and I almost forgot about my raging migrane.
I dial Brit's number back. "TANY! WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN? I MISSED YOU! ARE YOU OKAY? ARE YOU HURT? WHY DIDN'T YOU CALL ME?" Her voice shouts a mile a minute and I clutch my forehead. It sounds like nails on a chalkboard.
"Shhh, Brits, I'm fine." She goes silent.
"You're fine? You're FINE! If you're fine why didn't you answer any of my calls? I was so worried!"
"Brit I'm sorry, I was out late last night and I didn't even notice you called until this morning." I try to explain to her.
She sighs heavily. "I may not be the smartest crayon in the tools shed. But I'm not a child. You were out drinking, with people that you barely even know. Do you know what could have happened? You need to stop this Santana."
"How do you know what I need! You don't know anything!"
She gasps. "You don't mean that."
"God Brittany, this, partying, it makes me feel good. It helps me escape from my life."
"Why do you need to escape from your life?"
"Cuz it sucks! I have people stare at me like I'm a fucking pariah. I have a grandmother who won't speak to me." She interrupts me.
"You have me. You have friends who love you. Your parents love you. You have so many people who love and care about you. Isn't that enough?"
"Sometimes, it just isn't Brit. Why do you have to be so naive. Love isn't everything."
But she doesn't have time to respond. My phone beeps once and then dies. I toss it angrily onto the floor. Perfect fucking timing
-Finn-
"What's the club called?" Sam asks Mike, who is now in 'manager mode'.
"It's called Adrenaline. The guy who owns it, he inherited a shit-ton of money from his grandfather or something, his name's Jesse St. James. He heard you guys at the bar one night and he wants the band to be the club's entertainment. They open next year but he wants to finalize everything now."
We all nod, mulling it over. Mike called Puck earlier, and he's already in. Playing at the bar has been great practice, but it's not exactly getting us anywhere. Sure, we've gained a moderate fanbase in New York. But it's rumored that this club is gonna be huge. If we can play there, we could attract a lot of attention. But on the other hand, Paul has been really good to us. It would hurt him if we ditched him and Rory for some rich guy's paradise.
"What do you guys think?" I ask Sam and Blaine.
"I think it's an amazing opportunity." Blaine says.
"Yeah, but Paul," Sam starts but Blaine cuts in.
"Has been great, but we need to expand our horizons, you know? If this St. James guy wants us, we should go for it."
"I guess." Sam shrugs. He looks at me and I give him a nod, saying I have the same concerns.
"So it's settled then? You guys are in?" Mike asks us and we nod. "Okay, I'll call St. James and set up a meeting." He pulls his phone out and walks off the stage and out into the alleyway to talk.
He's taking this manager thing really seriously. He's really good at it too. He keeps us on schedule and in check. It's great to have some structure.
"You're leaving?" Rory comes out of the back office and asks us, sadly.
"You heard?" Sam asks.
Rory nods. "I won't hold it against you, as long as you don't disappear forever."
"Of course, we'll still be friends Rory." Blaine assures him and the rest of us nod and agree.
"You still wanna take Riley for the day?" Rory asks me.
"Yeah, I've been pretty pumped about it. Rachel hasn't met him yet and she wants to see what it's like taking care of a kid. You know, practice."
Rory nods, "Sugar's dropping him off any minute and he's yours. I'm taking her out to that place Rachel always talks about."
"Sardi's? Oh Sugar'll love it." Blaine says enthusiastically.
The bell on the door chimes and Sugar walks in carrying Riley. She's got a fancy red dress on and she looks beautiful.
Rory walks swiftly over to her and kisses her cheek. "Hello Luv, you ready?"
Sugar nods and carries Riley over to me. "You sure you can handle him?"
"Oh yeah, it's no problem." I take him in my arms and smile widely at him.
"Okay well you have Rory's number if there's any trouble, and the hospital." She pulls a folded up piece of paper out of her purse and hands it to me. "Here are all the emergency numbers. There's his pediatrician's number and my parent's home and cell, and my sister's home phone and if you need to you can call the restaurant. He's allergic to dogs and he goes to bed at 7:30. I bathed him before we came so you're set on that. OH! and-" Rory grabs her hand and pulls her out the door.
"I think he'll be okay." He assures her and nods at me.
They leave and I look at Riley, who's been strangely quiet.
He's fast asleep, drool running over his chin. This is gonna be a piece of cake.
-Kurt-
"We're almost done!" Rachel exclaims as we hang up the last curtain. Blaine left after we finished the crib to attend the meeting with the band, so it's been me and Rachel lugging in the dresser, changing table and all the clothes and toys into the nursery. The crib turned out perfect, Blaine knew enough German for Rachel and I to put it together and the paint was dry by the time it was done. So we just pushed it into place against the far wall and tucked in all the pretty bedding and viola!
Then we laid down the rug and positioned the dresser and changing table. After that Rachel folded all the clothes and put them away while I hung up the pictures of flowers and butterflies in dainty white frames. All the toys fit neatly into a pink toy chest that Rachel's fathers made and painted for her.
The curtains were last. I smoothed my hand over the soft pink gingham and then we stood in the doorway to admire our work.
"It's lovely." Rachel sighs.
"Gorgeous, we do amazing work Ms. Berry." I hold my hand out and she high fives it.
"I hope Finn likes it." She clasps her hands together in excitement.
"Oh he will, because he loves everything that you love. You've got that boy whipped like chocolate mousse."
She giggles and says nothing because she knows it's true.
"Now if only you could persuade him to throw away what's left of his awful wardrobe." He apparently hid away from of his clothes just in case I ever performed a fashion overhaul on him, which I did. Sneaky bastard.
Rachel playfully slaps me on the arm and shuts the door to the nursery. "I was thinking, when Finn and I name her that we could hang a wooden letter on the front of the door. That'd be cute, right?"
"Oh yeah, I could see that. What are you naming her?" I ask her, curious.
"I don't know, I was thinking Fanny, or Evita. But Finn hates those names. He just wants to wing it, you know? Wait until we see her and then we'll just 'know' or something."
"I think that's sweet, and Fanny is a terrible name for your daughter. Think of the ridicule!" I cringe at the possible nicknames.
Rachel rolls her eyes. "Whatever, we'll agree on something and it'll be perfect."
"I'm sure you will." I wrap my arm around her and squeeze supportively. I wonder how hard it would be to convince Finn to name her Barbra?
-Quinn-
"Oh please, Quinn, Puck could never stop being attracted to you!" Rachel exclaims over the phone.
"You didn't see his face Rach! He was disgusted!"
"I'm sure that's not what it was, I don't think you have to worry. Just talk to him!" She says.
"Well, I kind of tried, but I was so upset, I made him leave." I sigh.
"Try again, and let him explain. He could surprise you, he loves you."
"Okay, I will, thank you." We say our goodbyes and I hear the front door open. Puck's footsteps carry down the hall and he appears in the doorway.
"Hi." He says softly.
I slip over to him and smile it a little. "Where'd you sleep last night?" I say softly.
"on the couch." He shrugs. Like it's no big deal, he walks over to the bed and I slowly join him.
"I'm sorry I got upset yesterday." I tell him meekly.
"Don't be."
"I just, tell me why you're not, sexually, attracted to me anymore." I say, exasperated.
Puck's eyes widen and he throws his hands up in front of him. "That's not the problem. Quinn, I think you're beautiful, especially right now. I always think you're beautiful and I am, uhem, sexually attracted to you, I just."
"What?"
"I don't want to hurt you."
"Hurt me? How could you hurt me by giving me what I want!" I lean closer to him and press my hands against his chest. "I just want to be close to you. Let me, please?"
"I want that just as much as you do, if not more. But I'm just scared, that I'll, hurt you or the," He points at my stomach, "our baby, I don't want anything to happen, you know, like..." He trails off. But I know what he's trying to say.
"Rachel? Babe, that was a terrible accident. Something none of us saw coming. But, I trust you. I know you would never hurt me, or, or us." I pull my hand off of his chest and rest it on my tummy. "If I thought you would hurt us, I wouldn't ask you to do this."
"You sure?" He leans closer to me. Surrounding me with the scent of him. Warm and musky. I close my eyes and sigh.
"Yes. Absolutely." He fills the gap between us and captures my lips in his. Finally closing the distance I've felt between us for days.
His breath tickles my neck and I let out a giggle.
"I love you." He whispers.
-Finn-
I drag myself through the front door of our apartment, carrying Riley in carseat that Rory provided for me. It's dead silent so Kurt must have left already. Which means the nursery must be finished. Anxiousness runs through me. "Rach?" I call out and I hear her soft padded footsteps come out of our bedroom and into the living room.
"He's so cute!" She exclaims, looking down at Riley. Then she lifts her eyes to me, "Hey baby, how was your day?" She asks, with a knowing smile on her face.
"Just show me our daughter's room." I say with a grin. I walk over and set the carseat in front of the couch.
She jumps a little in excitement and scurries over to grab my hand and pulls me toward the door to the nursery.
"Are you ready?" She asks me.
I nod. "Totally."
"Close your eyes." She says, with a hand on the doorknob.
"Rach!" I whine.
"Finn." She scolds. "Come on, please?"
I relent, (a new word Rach taught me) and close my eyes.
I hear her open the door with a creak and lead me inside.
I can feel a soft rug on my feet as she takes me to the middle of the room. "Open." She whispers.
My eyes snap open and I let out a gasp at the room. It's adorable.
The crib has a, a, "Rachel what's that called?" I point at it.
"A canopy." She tells me.
It has a pink canopy hanging over it, with the mobile of butterflies just underneath.
The entire room is light and soft and glowing. Very girly, but that's perfect. I want our daughter to stay as feminine and innocent as this room forever.
"She's never allowed to leave this room." I tell Rachel. She laughs.
"Awww, protective Daddy." She wraps her arms around my waist and nuzzles into my chest.
"It's perfect, I love it. You and Kurt did an amazing job babe."
"Thank you." She sighs.
We stay there, her wrapped up in my arms. Just admiring the room, until we hear Riley gurgling and making baby noises from the living room.
We leave the nursery and Rachel goes over to the carseat, unsnapping the straps and carefully lifting him out of it. "You're so cute." She murmurs and raspberries his belly. Making him laugh and giggle. If taking care of someone else's baby is this much fun, I can't wait for our baby.
-Santana-
I haven't called Brit back.
After my phone died, I realized what I'd said to her.
I've never, ever, spoken to her like that.
I'm really afraid of what she's going to say to me.
There's a knock at Kurt's door. Kurt took Blaine to some off-broadway show tonight, leaving me alone.
It was nice of him to let me stay here this summer, but the kid is never home.
"Tany, it's me." Brit's voice chimes.
I jump to my feet and answer the door.
"Why'd you hang up on me?" She asks, her voice desperate.
"I didn't! My phone died." I explain to her.
"Then did you charge it?"
"Yeah."
"And you haven't called me back." She says, deadpan.
"I'm sorry, I was afraid you won't forgive me."
"Will you stop drinking San?" She asks me.
I ponder this. Will I? Can I? I have to be honest.
"No." I sigh.
"Then," She sniffles and wipes tears out of her eyes. "Then, I can't forgive you."
My heart stops. Like, I think it literally stopped. "But, I, I mean, I can try, I just." I stumble.
"No, Santana. It's me, or the parties. You can't treat me like this. I'm better than that and you know it. I'm sorry." She stopped wiping away her tears, letting them fall as they may. Down over her cheeks, running with her mascara.
"I'm sorry too." Is all I can say. All I can manage to grab ahold of and spit out. I'm so stupid. I should have promised to stop. Should have convinced her that I'd stop for her.
But I can't promise that I won't fall off the wagon. And she's right, she is better than that. She deserves better than to wonder where I am and what I'm doing.
Until I can promise that I can chose her, until that's the truth, I can't hold onto her.
She just nods and leans in to kiss me on the cheek.
Then she walks away.
I let her leave.
Wow, longest chapter ever I think. This is the last one before the epilogue. That should be up next week at the earliest.
I suppose Britana land can never be happy. At least not in this story. Maybe the sequel? :)
Yay happy finchel! at least we have them to keep our spirits up ;)
read, review & repeat!
sincerely, your antsy author