They go back to New York. Santana doubles down on her work, while Brittany schedules Liam's surgery. When she asks Shelby for the week off, she doesn't question it. She just signs the papers, and she tells Santana that it's about time she's used some of her vacation time. She doesn't question it, and Santana breathes a sigh of relief. She doesn't know what she'd have done if she couldn't be with Brittany the whole time. She doesn't know what she'd have done if she had to sneak into his room between patients. She doesn't what she do if he was on her floor, and she had to try and go about her day without spending the entire day there, holding his mother's hand.
She does Samantha Franklin's surgery the day before Liam's. Scrubbing in, she closes her eyes and prays to whomever is out there that it goes well. Kurt is operating with her. That makes it better. No matter what, she trusts him by her side, and he's one of the best surgeons in his department.
The surgery takes hours. Though Santana knew going in that this child's bowels were ravaged, but seeing it is still difficult. Seeing it almost makes her rescind her invitation for Porter to assist. It's all too much, and she feels sick to her stomach over it. But Kurt hands a scalpel to him, Kurt guides him with his words, allowing him to remove inches of destroyed tissue, allowing him to suture and repair. She watches, and she swallows hard. She watches, and then takes her own turn, cutting away at the swollen mass, preparing to send it for even more testing. This surgery, it isn't the end of Sammy's journey. On the contrary, it's just the very beginning.
"I'll keep as much of an eye on her as you do, while you're out." Kurt tells her, after she yanks off her scrub cap and takes a deep breath at the scrub sink. "I know you, you're going to obsess about the recovery, but you don't have to, I'll do it for you."
"To be honest, I don't think there will even be room left in my head to obsess about anything but Liam." Santana admits, letting the hot water run over her hands. "I know I'm leaving her in good hands."
"He'll be in good hands too. Stevens? Corcoran? It doesn't get much better than that."
"It's different. This is why people can't operate on their own kids." Her eyes widen at her words, and she quickly shakes her head. "I mean…I don't mean he's my kid. I just mean…Brittany's my girlfriend, and he's her kid, and I spend a lot of time with him, and…"
"You're really serious about her, aren't you?"
"No fucking shit." Santana rolls her eyes, irritated, for some reason, by the surprise in his voice.
"If it's worth anything, I like her. I think she's good for you."
"You also thought what's her face was good for me. I'm not entirely sure how much stock I take of you opinions."
"In fairness to moi, I thought you were dating Danielle, when you were walking around grinning about Brittany."
"I wasn't grinning." She scoffs. "I was just like…moderately smiling."
"Sure you were." He clicks, shaking out his flattened hair and running his hands through it. "I didn't think I'd live to see the day I finally got to be an uncle."
"Your brother has two kids."
"I mean an uncle to your kids."
"I don't have kids, Hummel."
"Practically." He waves his hand, and she pushes the door open, walking away.
"Not a thing. You either have them, or you don't."
Before Santana leaves for the night, she cleans up her office. She's in a rush to leave, but she's also not. Brittany had taken the day off, and she and Liam have been out all day. After his final pre-op appointment in the morning, she'd wanted to buy him new trains, she'd wanted to get him a collection of new movies, she'd wanted to let him have hot dogs and pizza, before he has to start fasting at four pm. Santana had wanted to be part of it too, but she didn't push her luck. She didn't ask for another day, beyond the week she already took. She didn't even ask Brittany if she wanted her to spend the day with them, because maybe, maybe she just wanted a day alone with her son.
So she doesn't rush. She knows they won't be back yet. The last Brittany texted her, they were at the carousel in Battery Park. She wants him tired out, so he'll sleep well, even if he's hungry. She wants him to sleep well, and she wants him the best prepared he can possibly be for surgery. She doesn't rush, because she'll end up waiting outside Brittany's house for them. She doesn't rush, because she doesn't want Brittany to feel like she has to. She needs this time, and Santana won't just take it away from her.
When she does leave, she draws the shades in her office. She locks her files in her desk, and she locks the door behind her. Though she's taken time off here and there since her start at Columbia-Presbyterian, this is the first time that she's forcing herself to be entirely separated from work. Her patients are covered, her interns are reassigned, and though she'll be in the hospital with Liam, her pager is being turned off. She can't be both there fully for Brittany and be involved with the care of her patients, and so this time, she picks her love and family over anything else.
The light is on when she gets to Brittany's. She has a duffle bag slung over she shoulder, and she walks up the stairs, taking a breath before she knocks on the door. She has not intention of leaving, so long as Brittany wants her there, and something about that, it feels like a major commitment to her. The biggest commitment she's probably ever made. But she'll be here. She'll be whatever Brittany needs. She'll do whatever Brittany needs. She'll make this easier on her, because she cannot even imagine how she's feeling.
"Hey." Brittany opens the door, raking her hands through her hair. Santana can hear the crying from the living room, and her mouth twists, unsure what she should do. "He's mad at me."
"Mama! Mama! Mama!" Liam wails, and Santana drops her bag by the door, scanning the room to see him balled up on the couch, his little race red with rage. "Me don't want that one!"
"You don't have to have it, Li." She sighs, resigned.
"Want the chocolate! Want the chocolate!"
"Popsicles." Brittany turns to Santana. "I made apple juice Popsicles. He's overtired, and he wants a fudge pop."
"Oh." Santana nods. She's not really sure what to say to that, she's not sure how to help. "Can I do something?"
"No. I've just got to get him to bed." Pinching the bridge of her nose, Brittany picks up the hysterical little boy, holding him tight to her chest, even as he squirms and struggles. "Shh, baby, shh."
"No! No shh! No shh, Mama! No shh!"
Brittany doesn't reply to him, she just carries him up the stairs. Santana isn't sure exactly what she should do. She isn't sure if she should follow Brittany up there, and try to help, or if she should stay down here and wait. She opts for the latter. She bends down, and she begins picking up Liam's toys from the floor. She stacks them up inside of his toy bin. She piles his books on the coffee table. She fixes the pillows on the couch, and she finds Percy wedged in between two cushions. Pursing her lips, Santana cradles the wooden train in her hands, and decides she should bring it to Liam, decides that Brittany will probably be down any second to get it, so she may as well bring it upstairs.
Slowly, she goes up. She doesn't know why she feels so weird about it tonight, she helps put Liam to bed more nights than not lately. But tonight, t feels different. Tonight, it feels like she should let Brittany have time alone with him. Tonight, it feels like she doesn't belong. Tonight…
When she gets to Liam's room, Brittany lays on his bed. He's slumped against her chest, his right arm draped across her. Brittany's thumb runs up and down, soothing the puckered skin. He's not sleeping, Santana can tell as much, but he's exhausted. He should be, but he's not. His eyes are red from crying, but he doesn't make a sound. He just rests in Brittany's warm embrace. He just rests with his mama, the person who loves him the very most in the world. The woman who would do absolutely anything for him.
"Hi." Santana mouths, holding up Percy.
"Thank you." Brittany mouths back, and crooks her finger for Santana to come to them. "Li, Santana brought Percy up."
"Hi Doccer Santana." He slurs through his seldom-used pacifier, not lifting his head.
"Hi, Sir."
"You bringded Percy?"
"I did." She presses him into his left hand, then takes a small step back.
"I needed him."
"I figured. He got into some trouble, I had to save him from being stuck in the couch."
"You a naughty engine, Percy."
"I think he's just a tired engine, Li." Brittany murmurs into his hair.
"I a tired engine too."
"I know you are. But that's why we're going to sleep, right?"
"Uh huh." His eyes flutter closed as Brittany continues to stroke his arm, and Santana just watches. "Lub you Mama. Lub you Doccer Santana."
Santana freezes, just for a moment, when he says those words. Time and again, Brittany has expressed to her how much Liam loves her, but to hear it herself, those sleepy words bubbling out of baby lips, it does something to her. It hits the very core of her being. This little boy, this absolutely perfect little boy falls asleep saying that to her. Slowly, Brittany's eyes drift up to meet hers. She's smiling. It's this soft sort of smile, not the I adore you, Santana smile that she wears quite often, but different. It's a smile of contentment, Santana thinks, and she just presses her fingers to her chest, letting Brittany know hoe deeply Liam's mumbles hit her. Letting Brittany know the gratitude she has for being part of his life.
"Goodnight, my sweet boy." Brittany whispers, several moments later. Kissing his forehead, she moves him carefully from her chest and settles him beneath his covers. "I love you."
When Brittany gets up, she stands at the edge of Liam's bed for a long while, just silently watching him. Santana wrings her hands in front of her, unsure, again, exactly how she should proceed. It takes time for her to build the courage, but eventually, she steps closer. Eventually, she presses her hand to the small of Brittany's back. Eventually, she gives Brittany a body to lean into. Eventually, she presses a kiss to Brittany's temple, when she rests her head on her shoulder.
"You okay?" Santana asks her, voice cracking only a little as she tries to be the strong one, the grownup one, so Brittany can let go.
"I'm okay. Just want it over."
"What can I do?"
"I think…I honestly think I just need to take a shower. Have ten minutes to clear my head, ten minutes alone."
"Okay. Okay, yeah. I can get you some tea? Or a glass of wine or something?"
"I don't think so." Brittany shakes her head. "I think I just want to go to bed when I get out of the shower."
Santana would be lying if she said it didn't sting her a little. She'd be lying if she said that Brittany needing to be alone, even with her right here, wasn't difficult for her. She'd be lying if she said that feeling absolutely helpless didn't fucking suck. But she's not going to sulk and wallow. She's not going to make this night moredifficult on Brittany. She's just going to turn down the bed. She's going to use the bathroom in the hallway to wash up and take her anxiety pills—actively skipping her Ambien tonight. She's going to change into her own pajamas. She's going to get beneath the sheets, and read her medical journal until Brittany comes out. She's going to give Brittany space, because that's what she needs, and making sure she has all she needs is exactly the reason why she's here.
She comes out a half hour later. She towel dries her hair as she walks, and she pulls a long t-shirt over her head. She's exhausted, Santana can see it in just how much effort it seems to take for her to get dressed, and she just watches, helpless, until Brittany sits down on the bed. While Brittany stares blankly at the wall, Santana can hear her slow breaths. Slowly, she moves her hand so it's beside Brittany's thigh. Slowly, she moves forward, offering her everything to Brittany, should she need it. And slowly, Brittany turns toward her, falling into a waiting embrace.
The tears come faster than Santana expected. She's only seen Brittany cry once before, that awful night in the coffee shop, where Santana herself had caused it. But this breaks her heart. Now, Brittany presses her ear to Santana's heart. She lays back, with arms around her. She tries to ground herself, as silent tears stream down her cheeks, faster than Santana can wipe them all away.
"I'm fine. I'm fine." Brittany sucks in breath after breath, quite obviously trying to make it true. "I'm sorry."
"Britt."
"I'm fine." She repeats. "Fine."
"Okay." Santana nods. She's out of her depth. So far out of her depth. But she has to be good at this. She can't mess up now, not when Brittany needs her most. "You sure I can't get you anything?"
"No. If I have a glass of wine, I think I'll vomit." She sighs heavily. "I'm glad you're here, even if I haven't acted like it."
"You don't have to act any way. I know you're really worried…and I don't want you to think you've gotta be any kind of way for me."
"I'm terrified." Brittany confesses in a puff of breath. "I'm absolutely terrified. I've done thousands of surgeries in my life. I know how low risk this surgery is. But that doesn't mean that signing those release forms this morning didn't make me absolutely sick. He's been through so much, and he always has a smile on his face. I need to not fall apart in front of him, because he's actually excited about wearing his new dragon hospital gown. He's so brave, and right now, I feel like I can't be."
"Let me be brave for you." Santana whispers, her concern for Brittany allowing a genuine bravado that she didn't believe possible. "You're the strongest person I've ever met. Let me help you, Brittany, please. Let me do something."
"Okay." Brittany nods slowly, tilting her head up to look into Santana's eyes. "That means a lot."
While Santana keeps her arms around Brittany, she falls into a fitful sort of sleep, turning and murmuring and kicking the blanket off her feet. For her part, Santana stays mostly awake. It makes her anxious, seeing Brittany so unsettled, and she wants to make sure she isn't sleeping through any sort of her needs. So she watches her. She watches her, she runs her fingers through her long hair, and she listens for any noise through the baby monitor on Brittany's nightstand. This urge she feels to protect them both, it's overwhelming, and no matter what, she won't let them down.
Brittany's alarm is set to go off at 5:45. Liam needs to be at the hospital by seven, and she'd told Santana that she doesn't want to be up against time if he's grumpy and difficult to get ready. At 5:15, Santana gets out of bed and into the shower. She's quick, like she's good at, and at 5:36, she's dressed and downstairs making coffee. She hears some stirring upstairs soon after, but it's surprisingly quiet, and it doesn't surprise her when Brittany comes into the kitchen, carrying a pajama clad and still sleeping Liam in her arms.
"I'm just going to let him sleep." She mouths, nodding her gratitude as she picks up the to-go mug of steaming coffee. "Ugh you're the best."
"Do you, uh, want me to drive your car?" Santana shrugs off the compliment and sets her sights on the next task. "I mean, if you want to sit with him in the back or something."
"No, it's fine. He'll be asleep." She shakes her head, and Santana pulls her lips into her mouth, nodding slowly. "On the way home though, that would be really, really good."
"Okay…cool."
Brittany is quiet on the way to the hospital. She's quiet as she lifts a still-sleeping Liam back out of his car seat. She's quiet when she kisses his head and murmurs to wake him up in the waiting room. She's quiet as Santana sets up camp there, and hugs Liam close before Brittany takes him back to pre-surgical. She's quiet, and Santana knows it's because of the lump in her throat, the lump that she has to keep down, lest she cry in front of her son.
When she takes him in, Santana distracts herself with the drone of sensationalist election coverage blaring on the waiting room television. Though she could go up to the doctor's lounge, though she could probably go into the gallery and watch, if she really wanted to, she makes herself at home here instead. She makes herself at home, and she keeps one eye on the door, waiting for Brittany to come out. When she does, Santana is quick to her feet, quick to step toward her, quick to wrap her arms around the woman she loves, and holds her when her knees buckle.
"He's gonna be okay, Britt. He's gonna be okay, I promise."
"I know." Her words are muffled in Santana's shoulder, but Santana can tell she isn't crying, she can tell she just needs an embrace, someone steady, someone Santana is trying so, so desperately to be. "You really don't know how much it means to me that you're here."
"There's no way I'd be anywhere else. I…I want to be here."
"It's really, really different, not feeling like I'm doing it alone."
"Your parents—"
"I don't mean alone, alone." Brittany shakes her head against Santana's chest. "I mean…I don't even know what I mean, I'm so tired and twisted in my head. It's just different, having a person. Having my person."
"I'm your person?" Santana's a little shocked by it, with the friends Brittany has, with her family…
"Yeah. You're my person. Liam's my little person, but you, you're the one I want—no, that I need by my side when things are hard. It's probably really selfish to put that all on you, but I've been a single mom for more than two years now. I didn't have a person. Now you're here, and I don't feel so lonely anymore." It's a new sort of candor from Brittany, one that surprises Santana. She's usually so collected, so put together. Santana knows that she loves her, but this is different. This is to be part of a partnership, this is to be Brittany's rock, as much as Brittany is her own. "I don't feel like I have no one to talk to about the decisions I make, because I don't want to worry about upsetting them. I mean…my parents, over Liam, not that I think it's okay to upset you over things."
"No, yeah, I got that. I'm just kinda shocked you trust me with this stuff. I want you to, but—" Santana shakes her head, clearing away her penchant for self-deprecation and focusing on what's really important. "You don't have to feel lonely anymore, or like you can't share stuff with me."
"I really don't." Brittany's arms wrap tighter around Santana, holding her, squeezing her. "I really, really don't."
They sit and they wait. Santana holds both of Brittany's hands in hers when she needs it. She gets up to get her coffee when she needs it, even though Brittany insists she can get it herself. She stands up at Brittany's side, when Shelby comes out first, and she braces herself. That's her reflexive instinct, it has been for her entire life, to brace herself for disaster, to assume the world is about to collapse around her. It's much better to be prepared for that, and be pleasantly surprised when it doesn't, than to be caught off guard, to be wholly shocked, when something comes to wreck you.
"Hey." Shelby smiles at them, a smile that can't yet put Santana at ease. "Liz will be right out, but since you're my friends and colleagues, I wanted to come personally to assure you that Liam did phenomenally."
"He's okay?" Brittany's breathy words are strained, and Santana aches do make it all go away.
"He's okay."
"Why don't you come on back and see for yourself?" Liz opens the double doors, and Santana steps back a little, letting Brittany go.
"Can she…?" Brittany gestures to Santana, eyes pleading.
"That's up to you. I can't very well keep someone on Shelby's staff out of pediatric recovery."
"Will you…?"
"Yeah. Yeah, of course I will."
Santana holds tight to Brittany's hand, as she tries to fully absorb all of what Liz is saying about what she did in surgery, and what Liam will need during his recovery, about his prognosis for full range of motion. She holds tight as they walk into the recovery room, and over to Liam's bed. She holds tight, until Brittany sinks down, and she needs both hands to cradle the face of her little boy, peaceful, in his medicated sleep.
"You're okay, Li, you're okay." She presses with a kiss into his forehead. "Mama's here now, and you're okay."
"So long as nothing changes." Liz tells Santana, giving Brittany her moment with Liam. "We can continue with the plan for him to go home."
"I'm staying with them. If I need to be a doctor, not her girlfriend, I—"
"Will call me. You're not a doctor on this case, Lopez, and for good reason."
"If I have to—"
"There's absolutely no reason you'll have to. You want to help?"
"Of course I do." Santana nods eagerly, desperate to do something that is actually helpful, desperate to be more than just a hand-holder.
"Get him ice cream. Make them dinner. Go to the corner store to pick up more milk. You're not a doctor this week, don't act like one."
Stunned by Liz's candor, Santana just nods. She's not sure how far she can distance herself from what she's good at, but she'll try. She'll try not to step on toes, she'll try not to make things more difficult than they need to be.
There's chatter between Liz and Shelby, but soon, they leave. They leave, and Santana continues to stand back, watching how Brittany brushes Liam's hair with her fingers, watching how she inspects his IV wires, watching how she touches his tiny right hand, wondering, without a doubt, if he'll be able to use it, when this is all over. She watches, and she falls in love with her over and over and over again. There's something about watching a woman with a child, something about watching the woman she loves, with her child that gives Santana a sort of determination she's never known before.