Thoughts of surgery consume Santana. The first two nights after her conversation with Brittany, she has nightmares. They're the same ones she had for years. They're the ones so deeply rooted in reality that she wakes up in a cold sweat, memories of waking up from her first surgery in excruciating pain plaguing her. There the ones where she pictures her father's face, imposing and overbearing, telling her, if not with his words, than with his actions, that she's not good enough.
During the day, she feels like she's half dissociated from reality. Work is good for her. She throws herself into it the same way she always has. She meets with Holly. She tells her again that she's not ready to pursue another certification, but that she's happy to scrub in with her on surgeries. Maybe it's selfish, maybe she's taking the opportunity from someone who deserves it more than she does, from someone who actually willpursue that field, but she can't help it. She's fascinated by neonatal surgery, she's fascinated by Holly's skill, and Holly doesn't seem to mind that she wants to tag along.
The day of the neural tube repair, Santana is exhausted. Between preparing for this, getting ready to file the adoption papers for Liam, and constantly deliberating about what to do next, she hasn't slept well. By the time she's scrubbed in, she's had six cups of coffee, and as much as she's been looking forward to this, part of her wishes that she was home on the couch, snuggled up with Liam and Brittany.
"You look like hell." Holly teases, elbowing her in the ribs. "Up all night with you new wife?"
"Ha." Santana rolls her eyes. "We're both doctors, and we have a very active little boy, we know the value of sleep. I've just got some stuff going on, but I'm fine."
"You sure? You know you can always talk to me, right?"
"Thanks, Hol. I'm fine though. Totally prepped and ready for this."
"I'm sure you are. You've always been the most prepared surgical assistant I've ever had."
"Coming from you, that's a high compliment." She smiles.
"Only save 'em from the best. Let's do this, sweet cheeks."
Everything that's been swirling in Santana's head disappears the moment Holly slices the abdomen of the pregnant woman on the table. When she's in a surgery like this, she finally discovers an ability to compartmentalize, and as Santana makes the first cut on the fetus, there's nothing else in her mind but him. It's a risky surgery, both she and Holly know that, but right now, she feels like a super hero, giving this child a lease on life that may not have been available to him. Santana has worked with spina bifida patients over and over, and doing this, she thinks she'll save him some of the agony of surgery after birth.
They close up, and Santana pulls her cap off to wipe the sweat off her brow. It may have been empowering, but it's also been physically draining. It ran significantly longer than they'd planned, with the repair incredibly complex, and even Holly, who's usually chipper and chatty doesn't say much beyond thanking Santana.
Brittany has already left for the night, promising Santana chicken pot pie when she gets home, and gathering her things, she steps out into the swirling snow and hails a cab. Her whole body, and especially her breasts ache as she leans back in her seat. She thumbs through her phone, considering, debating whether or not to make the phone call that's been haunting her. When she gets to the letter C, she stops, staring down at Dr. Adam Crawford's name. She should call. She knows she should call. She should go to Boston and at least let him look at her. It's someone her wife trusts, and with Brittany, she would trust her life.
She closes her eyes and presses the send button, taking short, rapid breaths while the physical he rings in her ear. It's stupid, so stupid that she lets herself get like this, but it's a big step. For gods sake, the only one who's even seen her breasts since she had the implants taken out is Brittany. She's embarrassed, she's terrified but the way she's been aching lately, and the fact that she wants a future where this isn't a major issue are why she knows she has to do this.
"Crawford."
"Uh, hi, Dr. Crawford? This is Santana Lopez, I got your information from Brittany Pierce. I'm her wife."
"Hey! I saw your wedding pictures on Facebook! Congratulations! You found yourself quite a catch!"
"Don't I know it." She laughs nervously. "So I…was hoping maybe I could set up a consultation with you."
"Of course! What are you looking to do?"
"Um…" Santana lowers her voice to a whisper, feeling the heat creeping up her neck as she looks at the cab driver. "I had my breasts done fifteen years ago, and had the implants taken out after. It was…not a good procedure, and I have a lot of scar tissue that's become really painful."
"Okay, I can definitely help you with that."
"Look, I'm going to be honest with you. I'm not sure I actually want to have surgery. I don't want to waste your time and not be up front about it."
"A consult is never a waste of my time, and frankly, it would be an honor in itself to meet Brittany's wife. Her and my husband have known each other since undergrad."
"Oh, cool. So, um, what does your availability look like?"
"Can you do something a week from Monday? Say two-o'clock?"
"I think so. Can you pencil me in, and then after I talk to Britt, I'll confirm?"
"Absolutely. Just let me know as soon as you do."
"I will. Thank you, Adam."
Santana hangs up, and she sighs heavily. She's not sure if the phone call lifted a weight or added another, but all she knows is that she's glad when the cab pulls up at home. She just wants to hug Liam, to kiss her wife, to remember the things she has that make her so grateful to exist. Liam's face is pressed to the window when she climbs the limestone steps. Santana smiles at him and blows a kiss, watching him scramble down to be close to the door when she opens it.
"Mommy Noodle! Mommy Noodle!" He cries out, letting Santana scoop him up. "I been waitin' for you!"
"I'm sorry I'm so late today, Sir."
"Mama say you saved a baby in a belly! Where's it?"
"He's still inside his mommy, he's got a little time to cook in there."
"No cookin' babies!" His eyes widen, and she hugs him closer.
"You're right, we can't cook babies." She laughs. "But he's growing in there, and he'll come out in a few months."
"You growin' a baby?"
"I—" Santana sucks in a breath, taken aback by his question. "No, no I'm not."
"Okey. I just checkin'." He shrugs and wriggles down. "Mama make chicken pie."
"I heard." She smiles. "Are you hungry?"
"So hungry! C'mon!"
Liam toddles into the kitchen, and Santana follows him, smiling at the sight of Brittany with pot holders on her hands in scrub pants and a hoodie. She puts the pie on the table and helps Liam into his chair before she comes to wrap her arms around Santana, kissing her earlobe.
"Hey. How'd it go?" Brittany whispers.
"Good. He's good. It was just a long surgery, and I'm ready to sleep for a week."
"How about a weekend, at least?"
"I think Liam might have other plans."
"I'm pretty sure a lot of them will be cancelled. I've been tracking this snowstorm, and it looks like we're really getting hit late tonight. I assume I'll end up getting called in."
"One of us always ends up on call for severe weather, huh?"
"Always the way." Brittany pulls back and kisses her lips. "Just cross your fingers that the entirety of upper Manhattan remembers that they shouldn't walk on ice."
"I'll definitely do just that." She nods. "I'd love a weekend we could stay in, and I need to talk to you about some stuff."
"Do you want me to put off dinner?"
"No…no. It can wait. I'd rather do it when Liam's in bed anyway."
"Okay…" Brittany gives Santana a concerned glance, but she shakes her off.
"I'm fine, I promise."
All through dinner, Liam chats about his day. That's always one of Santana's favorite things, the way he regales them with every single detail. It's good for her busy mind, having no space for silence, and when the silence is filled by a little boy as exuberant as Liam, her little boy, it's that much better.
They do bedtime. Santana bathes him, and Brittany reads his stories. When he's asleep, Brittany has to make some changes to her emergency call sheet for the weekend. She excuses herself to the office downstairs, and Santana goes into the master bathroom.
Slowly, she pulls off her top, letting her hands coast over her stomach and the elastic band of her sports bra. Pulling it off carefully, she stares at herself in the big, lighted mirror. She looks at the marks the bra has left, digging into her, constricting her as she bent over the patient on the operating table. Seeing that, it's no wonder she feels so much pain, and she shakes her head a little, tracing the divots with her thumbs. It takes a lot more for her to look at the scars.
The angry purple lines make her stomach churn, and the mangled nipple makes her feel like she might vomit. She tries not to look often, but she has to now. She has to see this, she has to feel the bewilderment that comes when she thinks of Brittany, touching her there, kissing her there, treating her with such reverence, when her body is anything but something that should be revered. Surgery won't change her appearance, she knows that much. But it will help the pain, it'll eliminate some of the tissue inside, it'll keep her from having constant reminder of the childhood she keeps running from.
She doesn't hear Brittany enter through the open door. It's not until she sees her face behind her in the mirror that she startles. Meeting Brittany's eyes in the glass, Santana feels her body twitch, uncomfortable standing like this in such bright lights. Slowly, giving Santana the time to object to her entering her personal space, Brittany presses into her from behind. Santana sinks back against Brittany, feeling like her physical presence lets her lose some of the heaviness than engulfs her.
"This won't always be a thing." Santana murmurs. "I swear it won't."
"For as long as it is, I'll support you. Whether it's a few months, or forever. I know that it's about so much more than just a physical thing, I know that it's so wrapped up in things that have hurt you your entire life. But I'm here, I've got you."
"I called Adam." She whispers, taking Brittany's hands and moving them up to her breasts, giving her permission to just…feel her. So tenderly, Brittany's thumbs brush her scars, and Santana fights the urge to cry. "He can see me next Monday."
"So we'll go to Boston."
"If you can't—"
"I can. We'll drop Liam with my parents, and we'll get a hotel."
"We can stay at your parents house…"
"I know we can, but I'd rather give you a place you can have space, and where you don't feel like to have to hold any of your feelings back. I know you haven't been sleeping well, deciding whether or not to even talk to him, and all I want in the world is for you to be comfortable."
"I just want to fix myself so I'm the best wife, and especially mother, that I can be, Britt. I have to move past this shit with my father, and I think this is a good start."
"For the record, I already think you're an amazing wife and mother, but I do want you to feel healthy, whole, and valid. I think even just talking to Adam is good, regardless of what you decide to do next."
"I'm honestly terrified of surgery. If I told my patients' parents that, I'd be without a job, but…ugh."
"I hate that you're in pain." Brittany presses her chin into Santana's head. "Both physical and emotional. But you won't be alone, I'll take care of you while you heal."
"I know." Santana nods, shivering a little, even in the warm bathroom. "Thank you."
"Were you showering?"
"Ugh, yeah, I'm disgusting right now. That OR underboob sweat kills me. Did you want to take one with me, or did you already…"
"I did already, but I'll take another."
"You sure?"
"Absolutely."
After their long, hot shower, Santana takes her pills, crawls into bed and turns on the TV. Her head rests against Brittany's chest, and she relaxes completely when she combs her fingers through her hair. It's the most soothing sensation, listening to her wife's heartbeat, having her scalp massaged, and it isn't long before she falls sound asleep.
It's still dark when she wakes up, groggy, and disturbed by rustling in bed. Even through all her medication, she usually hears Liam on the monitor, so when she feels his elbow poke into her side, she's surprised. It's cold in the room, and she pulls the blanket more tightly around herself and his sleeping form, shivering, and a little confused, until she sees Brittany in the doorway, carrying two more heavy blankets.
"Power's out." She whispers, not wanting to wake Liam. "I was still up when it went two hours ago, and I carried him in with us, but it's just now starting to get cold."
"How's the weather outside?"
"It looks bad out the window, and I just got off with Chief Sylvester. De Blasio declared a state of emergency. The bridges are all closed, and the trains aren't running. Shelby's supposed to be covering the pit on the shift change, but she's stuck on the LIE."
"So you have to go in?"
"Maybe just for a few hours." Brittany covers Santana and Liam with the heavy quilt, and leans down to kiss her lips. "We'll see if she makes it in."
"How are you getting to the hospital?"
"I'm going to drive. I've got the emergency placard in the glove box, and I think it's better than walking."
"Be safe, okay?"
"I will." She kisses Santana again. "I love you."
"I love you too."