The weather begins to warm up, and the rain comes. After a two-week stretch of overnights for Santana, and a short tip to Omaha for Brittany, they're finally back on the same schedule. At night, after Liam is in bed, they pore over the donor registry from the fertility clinic they have an appointment with. They narrow half of their potential offspring's DNA down to IQ, family health history, and education, immediately crossing off both of their own Alma maters, feeling weird about the possibly it could be someone either of them know.
It's pouring, the day Santana starts her Lupron. She injects herself in her office, behind the closed door, and she sends a text message to Brittany, who's in surgery, letting her know that she has. Because they're medical professionals, neither she, not Brittany have any sort of romanticized ideas about hormone injections. Santana is more than capable of injecting her gluteal muscles herself, and it seems frivolous to interrupt the work day to have Brittany do it. She'll be there when Santana has the IVF procedure, she'll be there if and when Santana gives birth, and so they're totally fine with treating the actual injection procedure as what it is.
In the afternoon, Santana gets a headache. She knows it's a possible side effect of the shots, but she figures it could also be the weather, and she pinches the bridge of her nose, trying to continue reading over some of the research she's been working on. When there's a knock at the door, she groans, massaging her temples. She looks up though, and there's Brittany, holding a cup of coffee and a scone.
"How did you know that was exactly what I needed right now?" Santana accepts the cup, and Brittany takes a seat across from her.
"Wifely intuition?"
"I'll accept that answer."
"Headache?"
"How'd you know?"
"You keep pinching your nose, and that's what you always do when you have one. Have you taken anything for it?"
"No, the coffee will help, I think."
"I hope so." Brittany bites her bottom lip.
"So do I. I have two meetings this afternoon."
"No surgeries, right?"
"Ugh, no. Just some meetings and rounds, I'll be fine. What's going on with your surgery later?"
"His fever's still up, so we're pushing it back another day. I was going to run out to Whole Foods in a little while and grab a rotisserie chicken and vegetables. Does that sound okay?"
"Yeah, totally." She nods. "So…"
"So." A slow smile spreads across Brittany's face. "Everything was good with the injection?"
"It was. I've been rubbing my ass most of the day, but…we're really doing this."
"You don't even know how happy this makes me." Brittany leans up over Santana's desk, and kisses her lips slowly, sweetly. "Bath and massage tonight?"
"You'll get no objection to that here. Thank you Britt, for coming in here and making my day better."
"I'm glad I could." Brittany smooths her pencil skirt and straightens up. "I have to get back downstairs, but really, honey, if your head keeps bothering you, take something."
"No, yeah, I will. If the coffee doesn't help, I have Excedrin. I love you, Britt."
"I love you too, Santana."
Once Brittany leaves, Santana's headache barely subsides. She takes two pills, and she clears off her desk before her meeting starts. There's a throbbing behind her eyes as she talks to the new adoptive parents of a two year old with a cleft lip, but she manages to keep it together as she examines their daughter, and then brings them back to her office to have a discussion with them about surgery.
By the time she goes to Shelby's office for their weekly sit down, she's seeing white spots, the major symptom of one of her stress headaches, beyond anything else. She wishes that she'd taken another pill, but she powers through, discussing her caseload with Shelby, listening to the department report for the week, and accepting Shelby's offer to address the new interns when they show up next week at the hospital.
It's one of those days that Santana really can't wait to end. When she finishes with Shelby, she goes down to the day care center, and Brittany is waiting outside with Liam. When Santana gets closer, she realizes that he's crying. Almost instantaneously, she launches into mother bear mode, coming to his side, and kissing the side of his face.
"Sir, what's the matter?" She coos, waiting until he lifts his head from Brittany's shoulder.
"Damien say-d I's ugly." He wails, reaching his arms out for Santana. "He say-d I getted eated by a monster!"
"Oh, Liam." She takes him into her arms, his slight weight the only thing keeping her from boiling into an uncontrollable fit of rage. "We know that's not true, right?"
"I telled him I getted in a big, big fire, and he say-d 'no, you get eated by a monster, monster face!'" Liam continues to cry, tears and boogers and spit coating his face and Santana's top. "I not a monster face!"
"You're not a monster face at all." Santana tells him firmly, her heart aching for her son, her breasts aching in memory. She looks at Brittany, who shakes her head, vein throbbing in her temple. "You have the most beautiful face I've ever seen. I love looking at you, my best boy."
"I not a monster face." He whimpers, chest heaving.
"Shh. Shh." She soothes him, rubbing his back. "Me and Mama've got you now. You're okay."
Brittany doesn't say a word as the get into the elevator. Santana can feel the anger coming off her in waves, such a rare emotion she feels from her wife, and she attempts to quell her own, not wanting to set Brittany off any further. There's a special sort of protectiveness that Brittany feels for Liam, one born of watching him come back from near-death, one of knowing so deeply what could have happened to him, one that Santana can only tangentially understand. This has to be cutting so deeply into Brittany, and Santana forces down her own hot-headed tendencies, and the voice that tells her to find this Damien's parent and give them a piece of her mind. She forces it down so her wife can deal with her own.
In the time it takes to get to the parking garage, Liam has cried himself to sleep in Santana's arms, and she's so gentle putting him into his car seat, buckling him in, covering him with his blanket, and tucking Percy under his arm. She kisses him once, twice, three times, then gets in the passenger seat, not even offering to take Brittany's place driving. The radio is off, and it's dead silent, but once Brittany pulls out, she finds Santana's hand, and she squeezes it so tightly that her knuckles turn white.
"That little fuck." Brittany seethes, sounding more like Santana than herself. "How dare he?"
"I know." Santana murmurs, not wanting to talk over Brittany. "I know."
"I have been so afraid for this moment since the first time I dropped him off at Brigham, when he was just a baby. He's grown into this beautiful, confident child, and still, I was so fearful of someone telling him he was different. But 'monster face?' That's worse than I ever could have imagined. I notice it in the grocery store, or on the street, or at the playground, and I know you do too, the way adults avert their eyes, ever so subtly, like they're afraid I'll think they're staring at him. There are two people in the world, outside of my parents who never did that. Sue Sylvester, and you. But a kid…goddamnit, a kid could be that cruel?"
"It's surreal, and infuriating, and my stomach hurts thinking about it."
"I never…" Brittany shakes her head, tears clinging to her blonde lashes.
"Go ahead, Britt."
"There's nothing I could have done to prepare him for this. Nothing either of us could have. He's our son, and I hate more than anything that we can't keep him safe from things that hurt him. I was just so…voluntarily isolated as a child, reading my books, and writing in my journal at lunch, that I never experienced a heartache like that. I don't know, am I being completely ridiculous? Kids call each other names, other mothers don't cry over it."
"It's different." Santana whispers. "It's so different."
"But should we be treating it like it is?" Brittany glances at Liam in the rear view mirror. "I mean…I don't even know what I mean. I'm sorry, I'm so completely inarticulate right now."
"Hey." She holds out her hand, asking Brittany to take it, as rain beats down on the windshield under bright streetlights. "I understand you completely. I'm new at this mom thing, and I trust whatever you think."
"The problem is, I don't know what to think. That's what it comes down to."
"Okay." Santana inhales, then lets out a long breath. "I think…it's an important distinction. And…I think he should know that he looks different, and that different isn't bad, or ugly, or…whatever anyone else wants to say. You're the one who made me believe that, Brittany, and, I don't know, I just feel like it's really important."
"You're a really good mom, Santana."
"I learned from you, Brittany." She squeezes her hand. "My heart hurts for him right now. I wasn't ever called a monster, but looks say a lot. I'll tell you this though, he's a hell of a lot stronger than I am. I could tell that the first time I met him."
"Playing with trains on your office floor." Brittany manages to smile a little.
"I was so charmed by his smile, and so impressed with how well he operated with just his left hand. He's taught me so many lessons, and as furious as I am, I'm still so sure he's going to be okay."
"Do you know how lucky I am to have you? How much I needed you to reassure me?"
"I feel the same, pretty much every day of my life. We'll figure it out, Britt."
"I know that, I do. Quite honestly, I'm glad that I'm not a single parent anymore. The burned is eased so greatly when there are two of us." Brittany stops at at light and rakes her hand through her hair. "Speaking of, how's your head? How's your butt?"
"It's fine, don't worry about it."
"I will though." She shakes her head.
"I actually kind of forgot about it. I'll take another Excedrin when we get inside, and maybe eating will tamp it down. The scone helped earlier, so…"
"Li might just stay asleep, and if that's the case, we can take that bath earlier."
"That would be nice, if you're still up for it."
"I think I'm even more up for it now, actually."
"Good." Santana lifts Brittany's hand to kiss the inside of her wrist. "Then that's what we'll do."