It feels like it comes out of nowhere, but two weeks after Liam's party, Santana pops, and in a much bigger way than she had expected. She's glad that she managed to tell Kurt beforehand, to more excitement than she'd expected, but because she has yet to tell Shelby, it ties her hands. She obviously can't walk around the hospital with her new baby bump without telling her boss that she's pregnant—and that she's not, despite her appearance, very close to her due date—so she preps herself to meet with her first thing Monday morning.
Of course, she feels like nothing she has fits her properly, even the loose fitting dresses she's been wearing to work, so she obsesses over it. When she finally feels like she won't look gigantic—at least until she puts her scrubs on—she goes downstairs, and feels the way Brittany smiles at her when she sees her. It's different than her other smiles, it's different than anything Santana has ever known, and she's not certain she'll ever get used to the way her heart quickens when she sees it.
"I love that dress on you." Brittany hums, looking up from tying Liam's shoes.
"Me too! Me too! It's pink and red and green and flowers!"
"I know you love the flowers, Sir." Santana grins, bending down a little to ruffle his hair, and ignoring the new fairly frequent twinges in her abdomen. "You got ready so quick this morning."
"You was slow." He giggles. "I was regular!"
"I was a little slow, wasn't I? Come here, I didn't even get to hug you today." She squats down carefully, still trying to figure out her new center of gravity, and opens her arms to him.
"Mommy Noodle, you is very pokey. I think you eated too much hot dogs!" Liam pokes at her belly, and Santana quickly glances up at Brittany, who mouths later.
"My belly is definitely very full." She deflects, excited and anxious and a little bit of everything for when they actually tell Liam. "And I hope your belly is, because I know Mama had leftover French toast for you!"
"It is!" He sticks out his belly, pressing it against hers. "So, so full!"
Santana straightens up, and when they leave the house, Brittany puts her arm around her waist, fingers tapping the side of her swollen belly. It's reassuring for Santana, and she leans further into her side. There's a lot of traffic on the way to the hospital, and it agitates Santana, shifting in the passenger seat, and fiddling with the radio. She just wants to be done telling Shelby, and go about her day. She knows it's going to be fine, but still, the anticipation is killing her.
When they get to the hospital, Santana kisses Brittany and Liam goodbye before they get to the day care center. It's later than she would have liked and she has her first surgery in an hour. Sucking in as much air as she can manage, she grabs a cup of coffee from the nurses' station, drops her bag in her office, and goes down the hall to Shelby's. The door is partially open, and she knocks on the frame, stepping in when Shelby nods to her.
"Hey Santana, what's up? I thought we were meeting in Robin's room at nine tomorrow morning?"
"No, no, we are. This actually isn't about Robin. Do you have…maybe ten minutes?"
"I can give you fifteen." Shelby nods. "Shut the door."
Santana's hand shakes a little as she closes the door, and she sits down in front of Shelby's desk, crossing her legs and biting her lip. Shelby looks at her, and Santana forces a smile.
"So, um…I don't really know how to lead up to this, so I'm just going to say it. I'm pregnant."
"Well, that's exciting news." Shelby smiles softly, tapping her pen on her desk. "Why do you look so nervous?"
"You're my boss. So…I don't know. I mean, I wasn't sure if I had to go to HR, or whatever, but, since I started showing, I wanted to make sure you knew."
"You worry more about HR than anyone else in this hospital. I'll get paperwork for you when the time comes, but you don't need to worry about it today. I consider myself more than just your boss, Santana. We've worked together long enough to be friends, and I'm incredibly happy for you, and Brittany too."
"Thank you. We're happy too. Doubly happy, actually. You're going to see me look massive, because I'm having twins."
"That's really exciting, Santana. Do you have a plan for the kind of maternity leave you're thinking about taking."
"Providing no complications, six weeks. You know me, Shelby, I won't last long outside of the hospital."
"I figured as much. Okay, but I've seen surgeons do this pregnant, if it gets to be too much, you'll let me know?"
"I will."
"I hope that's a promise. You have a tendency to overwork yourself."
"I won't this time." Santana laughs. "I'm pretty sure Brittany will kill me if I do."
"I'd probably be on her side with that. But you're feeling good?"
"Mostly, yeah. Pretty anxious, a little nauseous, but mostly good."
"I'm glad to hear that." Shelby nods. "And I'll see Brittany in a meeting this afternoon, so I'll be sure to congratulate her as well."
"She'll appreciate that. Thanks, Shelby, this was easier than I thought."
"Some day you won't be afraid to come into my office." Shelby shakes her head. "You're not an intern or a resident anymore…and even when you were…"
"I know, I stayed on the right side of trouble."
Once she leaves Shelby's office, Santana does her rounds. Her caseload is lighter than normal, and with Porter on her service, it all goes smoothly. With everything settled, Santana goes into her office and changes into her scrubs, ready to remove the cancerous mass from her ten year old patient's stomach. She sends Brittany a quick text message, letting her know her meeting with Shelby went well, and leaves her phone on her desk before she goes down to the OR. Her patient's prognosis is good, Santana's day has been good, and she's feeling pretty together as she scrubs in.
The surgery goes as well as she expects. She lets Porter close up, and she nods her approval at his work. Once Abigail is settled in recovery, and Santana lets her parents know that she should be recovering peacefully, she makes her way back up to her office. She can't help but rest one hand on her bump as she walks down the hall, smiling to herself that she's comfortable with the idea that she's almost announcing herself without saying a word.
She's halfway down the hall when she stops dead in her tracks, and nearly doubles over at what she sees. The wind is knocked out of her, and she feels like she's struggling to catch her breath. Her mind is screaming for her to run the other direction, to hide in a supply closet, or crouch behind a gurney, but her legs down cooperate. She remains frozen in place, wide-eyed, like a deer in headlights. It's her worst nightmare come true, and she can't run from it. Before she can even gather her thoughts, he's approaching her, making her cower in a fear she hasn't felt in over a decade.
"Ana." The imposing figure looms over her, and her hands turn to ice. Only he calls her that. Only he can turn her to this trembling, fearful shell of a human being. "It's been a very long time."
"Dad." Her voice creaks, and her stomach feels sick. "What are you doing here?"
"Playing golf." He laughs, a sickening, bitter laugh, which makes her feel three inches tall. "I'm here to do a surgery no one else in the world can do, what else would I be doing. I see medical school hasn't given you any common sense. I'm surprised you didn't become a nurse."
"I wasn't expecting to see you." Santana mumbles, looking down at her feet.
"As I was never informed you worked here, I wasn't expecting to see you either."
There's a long, painful pause. Santana's legs still refuse to work, and her heart pounds in her chest so hard that she's certain it can't be good for her or her babies. Seeing him alone is too much, too agonizing, but deep within her, she still aches for some kind of approval from him. She aches for him to tell her she's good enough. Aches for his apology. Aches for some kind of explanation for how he treated her for so many years. But he continues to stare her down, his stature dwarfing her, his gaze entrapping her.
"Well." He cocks his chin at the swell beneath her breasts, a derisive sneer on his mouth. "I see you grew out of that garbage you tried to feed your mother. How is the bitch, by the way? Living high on my money and her lies, I'm sure."
"I—" There's too much for Santana to respond to, and nothing at all to say. "Don't."
"Still can't take a joke, can you?"
"It's not a joke when you mean it." She manages, sounding like herself at eleven, though without the big tears in her eyes.
"And you can decipher my meaning all in that little head of yours, can't you? Your husband must love that exceptional talent you have."
"I don't have a husband." Santana leans forward a little on her toes, determined not to let him walk all over her, determined to be stronger than she ever was, though she feels like she might be sick all over his shoes.
"Can't say I'm surprised about that. You always were impossible to love."
"My wife—"
"Oh, so you're still on that then." His face contorts with disgust. "Pretty girls aren't dykes, and you certainly took a lot of my money to be pretty."
"Raul." Another surgeon, one Santana doesn't recognize steps out into the hallway from a prep room, and she watches her father's face return to normal and a warning smile cross it before he turns to face the intruding doctor. "The patient is prepped. We're ready to fly."
"Excellent." He nods, the most terrifying part of all, perhaps, how quickly he can turn off his domination over Santana, and resume to role of a genial doctor.
His sudden easy demeanor makes Santana feel as if she'd imagined everything else, as if maybe it is all a joke, and always has been, but she's too sensitive. It's a whiplash, the kind that shakes her to the core, and she knows her extremities tremble in response. With the eye of the other surgeon on her father, he reaches out and touches her arm. She's trained herself so well not to flinch when he does that, that even so many years later, she stands perfectly still, casting her eyes down to her feet.
"It was nice to see you, Ana." He lies, and she can feel his eyes boring into her, demanding she respond congenially.
"Yes, you too."
He lifts his hand from her arm, and somehow, in the absence of the weight, Santana is convinced she might collapse on the floor. She's still frozen. She's still nearly wordless. And when he goes back into the operating room, a sense of grief threatens to crush her. Terrified that she'll be seen sobbing in the middle of the surgical wing, she clutches herself as she flees for the nearest on call room, praying she doesn't erupt before then.
She thanks everything that the room is empty, and she sinks down onto a bed, curling herself into a ball, and letting the sobs engulf her. His mere presence could have reduced her to nearly this, but his words worsened it. Still can't take a joke? Impossible to love. Pretty girls aren't dykes. It was as if he was running his greatest hits album, reopening the lashes his words had put through her for the first nineteen-years her life.
She cries until she thinks she can't cry anymore, but then she's hit with a second wave. She's mortified that she's behaving this way, mortified that she's in her thirties, and yet, she can't pull herself together right now. Mortified that she's at work, and anyone could walk in and see her like this. When there's a knock at the door, she startles, and scrubs furiously at her face with her hands.
"It's occupied." She rasps, turning her face toward the wall, so she shielded from whoever it is, should they open the door.
Santana hears the handle turn, and she pinches the bridge of her nose, trying to keep herself from audibly sobbing. The bed dips beside her, and she shudders, panicked, until she smells Brittany, feels the weight of Brittany's hand on her face. Without a word, Brittany lays down behind Santana, wrapping her in a tight embrace, kissing her hairline, letting her feel her calming presence.
"How did you know?" Santana whispers through her tears.
"Mercedes called me when she couldn't get in touch with you to let you know he was here. You saw him?"
"Mmhm." Santana hiccups, shaking her head, because she can't get the words out.
"Oh, baby, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."
For a long time, Santana cries silently. So much time is just washing over her, so much she thought she had recovered from hitting her with full force. It was so much easier to be okay, when she was removed from a situation. But seeing him, realizing he hasn't changed, realizing he'll always see her the way he had as a child causes such a deep sense of heartbreak, and a deep pit of inferiority within her very soul.
"He…he." She tries, and turns him Brittany's arms, burning her face in her chest.
"You don't have to talk about it, honey, if you're not ready."
"I don't know why I've never been good enough. I don't know why he hates me so much."
"This isn't you. This is him. Please, Santana, I won't ever let you forget that."
"He's disgusted by me. Repulsed. He…just…said really shitty things."
"I'm repulsed by him. I love you to the very core of my being, Santana Lopez, and he is unworthy to kiss the soles of your shoes."
Santana doesn't say anything. There's nothing to say. As much as she hates him, she fears him more. His power, his words, his utter contempt all induce such a visceral terror in her that she has no response. And above that, on some level, she still believes everything he has to say. She still believes that maybe she's not good enough, that she's unnatural, and worst of all, that she's unlovable.
She calms herself down enough to go back to work, and Brittany walks her to her office, clearly concerned to leave her. Santana tells her she's fine, that she'll get through the day, because she refuses to leave on his account. Though Brittany believes her, Santana isn't sure she believes herself, but she'll do what she has to do. She'll push away his power over her, and take care of her patients who need her to be well.
It's easier said than done. She looks at the increasingly alarming text messages from Mercedes attempting to warn her, and she feels like she might break down again. But she texts her back, thanking her, and telling her they'll talk later, and waits for her newest patient to be transferred up from the emergency room. Everything else can wait. She has her job, and she's damn good at it, she won't let her turmoil take that away from her.
She examines three year old Celia, and looks at her bright green eyes. She has stage two esophageal cancer, and taking to her parents temporarily assuages the wrench in her gut over her own problems. She can't imagine, she never could, but now more than ever. Carefully, she talks them through an experimental new surgery she's willing to try. She calms them, though she hopes they can't see the swelling around her eyes, and she makes notes in the file. She'll keep her overnight for testing, and they'll go from here, that's all she can promise, though she wishes she could promise more.
After she leaves the room, Santana throws up. It had been bubbling in her stomach through the entire consult, and she can't help it anymore. She doesn't even make it to her own bathroom, she finds the nurse's bathroom at the end of the hall, and hopes no one can pinpoint her pink and turquoise sneakers beneath the stall, or the sound of her horrible retching. She may be visibly showing, and certain everyone in the hospital can tell, but she's not ready to share morning sickness tips with nurses in the bathroom. She's not ready for it to be a thing, no matter how much it is.
She's shaky throughout the rest of her afternoon. Part of her thinks that she should have listened to Brittany's advice and taken the rest of the day off. She could have gone home and crawled beneath the blankets. She could have slept away how much this hurts, and woken up to Brittany holding her again. But she didn't want to tell Shelby she needed to leave on the same day she told her she was pregnant. So she powers through, and then finally, when she's done with her patients for the day, she decides to go down and get Liam a little early, hoping Brittany might be ready to go when she is.
Santana gets into the elevator, resting her hand on the side of her belly. At each floor it stops, her heart stops just for an instant, afraid he's going to be there, afraid she'll be trapped inside with him. But it doesn't happen. It's all in her head. He's probably gone by now anyway, back to…wherever it is he's living, back out of her life, hopefully to never be seen again.
She's halfway down the hall when she sees Brittany. Though she's facing away from her, she can tell that her arms are crossed over her chest. Not wanting to interrupt her, Santana keeps a distance, standing with her back to the wall a few doors down.
"I've read some of your work." Santana shivers when she hears the sound of her father's voice. "Your method of chest reconstruction—"
"To be quite frank, Dr. Lopez, I'm not here to speak with you about my work. I wrote it, you've read it, it's unnecessary."
"Ah, so then you're here to talk about my laparoscopic quintuple bypass. I know, I'm the first one to ever complete it, although I'm not sure how it will benefit your work."
"I'm not here to talk to you about medicine at all, actually. I heard you were still in the hospital, and had another surgery here tomorrow, so I'm asking you to stay away from Dr. Lopez."
"And who are you tell me I can and can't speak to my daughter?" He laughs bitterly, and Santana shivers at the sound. "I see she's already spreading lies about me around this place, I should have seen that coming."
"She's not spreading anything about you, I've known about what kind of person you are long before today. I'm her wife, and—"
"Ah, so you're the wife."
"Save it, Dr. Lopez." Brittany snaps, and Santana realizes that she's never heard her speak in such a way to anyone before, no matter what they've done. "I'm not afraid of you, and I'll make damn sure she doesn't have to be either."
"And just what are you going to do about it if I don't?"
"I will devote my life to digging up any and every ethics violation I can find on you, starting with your connections with Dr. Alan Franklin and the loss of his medical license in 2002."
"Is that a threat?"
"No. It's a request. Leave her be, and you have nothing to worry about."
"I don't know who you think you are, Dr. Pierce. I see she managed to find the perfect match for her, a conniving little—"
"I suggest you don't finish that sentence. I have no problem calling hospital security on you, and I can assure you that Chief Sylvester will take my side."
Brittany doesn't wait for a response. She turns away, and Santana watches her father stalk furiously back into the office he must have come from. The moment Santana catches Brittany's eye from where she stands, she sees a sense of hesitation, or maybe guilt cross her face, she's not entirely certain. But she sucks in a breath, and she steps toward Brittany, allowing them a rare embrace in the center of the hospital. Maybe it's her hormones, or maybe it's the fact that she just watched someone for the first time in her life stand up for her this way. But either way, she swallows back tears, and squeezes Brittany as tightly as she can.
"I'm sorry, Santana. I know I shouldn't have gone to him without your approval, but I saw his name on the surgical schedule for tomorrow and I looked into it."
"He's staying here?"
"Only through tomorrow. Then he's going back to Miami."
"Miami." Santana repeats, looking over Brittany's shoulder into the distance. "Okay."
"I don't want you to have to feel threatened or afraid."
"I know." She nods. "Thank you for just…letting him see that someone loves me. I don't know…it doesn't even matter to him, I'm sure, but he would always make it a point that I was unlovable. To see you love me that much that you'd do that…"
"When I tell you that I would do anything for you, I mean that. I really didn't want to overstep—"
"You didn't. It means everything to me. Sorry, I just feel really fragile right now, and I don't know how to stop feeling that way."
"Do you want to go home and lay down?"
"I think I want to go home and tell Liam, Britt." Santana turns her face to look at Brittany's. "I want to be with our son, and just remember how much different…I don't know."
"Okay." Brittany nods. "Santana?"
"Mmhm?"
"I just want you to know that you're an amazing mother, and partner, and human being, and you are deserving of all the love in the world."
"Thank you." Santana swallows hard. "I really needed to hear that."
After Santana steps out of Brittany's embrace, she's a little embarrassed by the public display of affection in the hospital. She wonders if it makes her too weak, too vulnerable to need this while she's at work, but maybe today she was too weak and too vulnerable, so this was her only method of survival. They walk side by side down the hall, and though they're early when they get to the day care, Liam is ready for them.
In the way Liam hugs Santana, it's almost as if he senses how much she needs that, and she crouches down, wrapping him up in her tight embrace. Though it's getting increasingly difficult for her to lift him, she does. She wants to carry him out to the car, even though he's big enough to walk. She wants to bring him home and cuddle him in their bed, to tell him that he's going to be a big brother. She just wants her family, her wife and her son, and she wants to remember that they are everything she never thought she was worthy of.
Brittany doesn't even need to ask Santana about dinner. She knows when she's had a bad day, the best thing for her is pasta fagioli soup and breadsticks from the Italian restaurant near their house—even if it is ninety-degrees. Pulling up the car in front, Brittany goes inside, and Santana just smiles at her, closing her eyes and leaning back against the seat. He'd wanted to make her believe it today, how broken she was, but Brittany always puts the pieces back together. Brittany always knows just how to love her, and Santana can't explain how it makes her feel.
She comes back out with a white paper bag and a pizza box, and Liam cheers in the backseat, chattering away about his pizza. Santana loves that. She loves his unadulterated happiness, she loves that he'll never be told not to express it, never be told that his emotions are wrong. Snaking her hand behind the seat, she squeezes his, and he giggles, pulling her arm with both of his hands.
Through dinner, Santana is quiet, and she thinks she'd probably kill for a glass of wine to take the edge off. But she won't have one. She just eats her soup slowly, dipping her breadsticks in the broth, and she watches Liam devour his pizza, and Brittany spear her salad. When Santana is done, Brittany suggests she take a bath while she and Liam clean up and get him ready for bed. While normally, she'd object, Santana doesn't tonight. She goes up into their bathroom and runs the tub as hot as she can stand.
When she slips in, the water feels so good on her muscles, and she lays her hands to rest on her tiny bump. Tonight, Santana can't help but wonder what her mom felt when she was growing inside of her. Was she happy? Did Raul Lopez ever stop for her favorite dinner and clean the kitchen so she could take a hot bath? Did he ever kiss where their baby grew, and tell her she looked more beautiful than ever? Did he think at all about the child he put inside of his wife, and was it with any sort of fondness? Or was it a mistake? Did her mother's birth control fail, and she found herself with an uncaring man for the next twenty-years? Did she ever feel like there was someone out there who loved her unconditionally, and wanted her to smile?
Santana thinks about her birth too. Was her father upset that she was a girl, and wish her away because she wasn't a son? Did he hold her in the hospital, like any father would? Did he stay at her mother's bedside and assure her that he would take care of anything she needed? Or did he go back to work, yelling at interns to take out his anger over a baby he couldn't love? Did he know that he would berate his child until she hid in her room terrified, pouring over any books she could get her hands on to escape? Did he know that he would someday shear her hair off because she got gum stuck in it, and if she was too irresponsible to chew gum, than she was too irresponsible to have hair. Did he think then that he would pinch her sides and tell her to lose weight because her appearance embarrassed him? That he would pay for her to her surgery to be more attractive, the kind of teenagers he and his colleagues fawned over?
Did he know he would lock her in her room when she told him that she couldn't go out with the head of surgery's son because she didn't think she liked boys at all? That his wife would bring food up, and soothe her tears, and promise her that he would come around? Did he know that he would hate her, and ask her if she was done being a "dirty dyke" every time he crossed paths with her? That he would refuse to pay her college tuition unless she retracted her statement and proved to him that she was straight?
Did he look at her mother's growing belly and know that the child inside would someday wash dishes in her college cafeteria until her hands bled. Did he know that she would hide her infected breasts after a botched surgery because she was so afraid of him? That she considered swallowing all her pills in one shot after she was brought to the hospital for it, because she didn't know how to continue like this? Did he know that she'd hate him, but still, every day of her life wish she was good enough for him to love?
What if she turns out like him? Santana wonders that, tracing shapes beneath the water over her belly. What if he didn't know that he'd be this way? What if he wasn't always, and something snapped within him? What if she breaks someday? What if her children hate her? The thought is too much to bear, and Santana sucks in a shaky breath. She won't be him, she can't be him. She loves Liam, and she loves her two one ounce babies. She'll do better, she'll be better, no matter what it takes.
When she's finished, she dries herself off, and changes into pajama shorts and a tank top. She's been getting so hot at night, even with the air conditioner all the way down, but she has to smile at how her bump really protrudes in an outfit like this. She looks like she could give birth now, despite that fact that she has four and half months to go, and a week ago, she just looked fat. Just as she's finished pulling up her hair, there's a knock on the door, and Liam stands there in his pajamas, beaming as he holds a bowl of ice cream.
"Mama say I had to eat mine in the kitchen, but I bringded you some!" He giggles. "Chocolate and nuts and marshymallows!"
"My favorite!" Santana takes the teetering bowl from him and sets it on her nightstand. "So you're going to come cuddle with me and Mama tonight, right?"
"Yeah! For a long long time!"
"That sounds really good to me, Sir."
"Come on Li." Brittany walks into the room holding his blanket and Percy. "Hop on up on the bed."
"Thanks for the ice cream, Britt." Santana leans back into her as Liam scrambles onto the bed. She feels the soft pads of Brittany's fingers trail over the bottom of her bump, and her skin prickles at the sensation. "I look really big."
"You look really beautiful." Brittany kisses her earlobe, whispering in her ear, "You don't know what you do to me like this."
"Brittany." Santana gasps.
"I know, I'll save it for later, if you're up for it. I know you've had a really hard day. I just want to make you feel good."
"I…might really need that."
On either side of Liam, who settles in the center with Percy and his blanket, Santana and Brittany get up on the bed. Santana rests her ice cream on her bump and eats it slowly while Brittany reads Liam a chapter of Charlotte's Web. By the time she's finished, she feels so satisfied by the ice cream that she stretches her arms out and squeezes Liam close to her until Brittany finishes reading.
"I like this book Mama. Can I get a pig too?"
"I think Lord Tubbington might be afraid of a pig, Li." Brittany laughs. "They're a lot bigger than him."
"I will tell him it's okey!"
"What if—" Santana meets Brittany's eyes, ready to take the opening. "We got something else that isn't a pig?"
"A giraffe!"
"How about something smaller? Maybe two things smaller?"
"Puppies!"
"I think, baby, Mommy and I have a surprise coming from you that you might like even better than puppies."
"A surprise?" He gasps. "What kin'a surprise?"
"Remember when you asked me about my belly this morning?"
"Yeah! You eated too many hot dogs!"
"Well." Santana presses her tongue between her teeth and smiles. "What if I told you instead of hot dogs in my belly, there were two babies?"
"Mommy Noodle!" He covers his mouth, aghast. "You not asposed to eat babies! You needs to frow up and get them babies out! Hurry!"
"Oh my Liam." Brittany laughs so hard the bed shakes. "Mommy didn't eat babies! She's growing babies."
"Growin' babies? How you growin' babies? You get seeds?"
"I had seeds in my belly." She laughs, taking his tiny hand to her side. "And now they decided to grow into babies."
"Can I see them?" Liam wriggles closer to her, mushing his whole face against her shirt. "Babies! You in there?"
"They're in there, Li." Brittany ruffles his hair. "But they won't come out until around Christmas time."
"Is Sanna gonna get them out?"
"Maybe Santa will help me when I have them in the hospital. But you know what? Me and Mama have a picture of them, if you want to see."
"How they take a pitcher in your belly if I can't see?"
"They have a very special machine that did it." Brittany leans over to her nightstand and takes out the sonogram picture. "See, here they are, little baby one, and little baby two."
"Mama." Liam studies the sonogram image carefully, getting his face as close to it as he can. "Them is not babies. Them is…smushes."
"They do look a little like smushes." Brittany kisses Santana's forehead. "But I promise you, they're just very, very small babies. Smaller even than your Percy."
"Nooo! Babies is not that little!"
"They are when they're still growing. Even you were that little once, sweetheart."
"In my other Mommy's belly?"
"In your other Mommy's belly." Brittany nods, swallowing hard. "And I got to see a picture of you just like this, my little smushy Liam."
"And they gon' grow big like me?"
"They will. They'll be quite a bit bigger when they come out of Mommy's tummy, and then they'll grow big like you where we can see them."
"I think they can come out now." He nods assertively. "You grow out in this house, babies! I share my trains with you!"
"They'll love that, Liam." Santana squeezes him to her side. "But we'll let them grow a few months more inside me. And guess what? We didn't even tell you a really cool part!"
"What? What? What!"
"Our two new babies are going to look almost the same!"
"As me?"
"Well…" Santana bites her lip. "They're probably going to look a little different than you, but I think they're going to be as handsome as you. They're going to look like each other, and it might be a little hard to tell who is who when they come."
"That's silly, Mommy Noodle! They different!"
"They are." Brittany chuckles, setting her hand beside Liam's on Santana's belly. "And we'll get to know them and how different they are when we meet them."
"Different babies, I meet you soon." He mumbles into Santana's belly. "Then I share my trains."
"They'll love that a lot." Santana chokes up, putting her hand over Brittany's and squeezing it. "You're going to be an amazing big brother, Liam."
They keep Liam in their bed until he starts to drift off with his head on Santana's belly. She just keeps stroking his hair, so completely enamored with this sweet little boy. Finally, Brittany lifts him into her arms, and Santana kisses his head before he's carried off to bed. She knows she should get up and bring her ice cream bowl downstairs, and though she'd rather not move, she knows she needs to brush her teeth too. So she heaves herself up, she tip toes down the stairs and loads her bowl in the dishwasher, and when she comes back up, Brittany is brushing her own teeth in the bathroom.
They brush quietly, side by side, and once Santana's face is washed, she crawls into bed, waiting for Brittany to get in behind her and wrap her arms around her like she always does. Santana closes her eyes, just for a moment, until she feels the dip of the bed, the press of Brittany's body, the breath against her ear. She sighs deeply, feeling a sort of contentment that she needed to feel, and sinks back into her.
"This feels good." Santana murmurs. "I know we sleep this way every night, but today it feels really…better."
"Are you okay, Santana?" Brittany kisses her bare shoulder, letting her lips linger there, tickling her soft skin.
"I'm…shaken, maybe is the best word for it? I never expected to see him again, and I'm lucky enough that he hates kids, so he's never published in my peds journals. But…he was there, and exactly the same. I guess…maybe as long as I didn't see him, I could hope that maybe he'd changed. I don't know…I don't know why I care."
"Because he hurt you, more than hurt you."
"A year ago, I would have never recovered from this. But now I have you…and you love me."
"I do, to my very core."
"I can feel that. I don't know how to explain it, but I can physically feel your love for me, even when you're not near me. It helps with all of my crap."
"It makes me so glad that I can." Brittany scratches Santana's upper thigh.
"Mmm, feels good." Santana shivers, realizing just how sensitive she's become all the time. "Sorry, we're talking about things, and I'm getting turned on. Ridiculous."
"It's your hormones, honey. Sorry, I know you know that…"
"No, don't be sorry. I'm just glad I have a genius who's read every pregnancy book ever to validate that, or else I'd feel like an idiot for wishing your hand was a little higher up."
"Hmm, like this?" Brittany cups Santana's sex through her sleep shorts, applying gentle pressure with the heel of her hand.
"Yes." Santana tilts her head back to rest on Brittany's shoulder. "Little more like that."
"How about this?" Her two fingers press where Santana's entrance is, and even through the silk of her shorts, Santana moans and clamps her legs together, trapping Brittany's hand there.
"Why is this really fucking hot?"
"Because I love making love to you with your clothes on sometimes." Brittany husks into her ear, and snakes her hand up under her top, rolling her nipple between her thumb and forefinger. "Especially now that you're so sensitive."
"I think I could come just from you doing that." Santana groans, pushing Brittany's hand on her breast.
"Do you want to?"
"Nuh-uh, I want—" Santana rasps, taking Brittany's hand and slipping it beneath her shorts, guiding it up and down.
"Guide my hand, Santana. Use it to make yourself feel good. Spread your legs, and touch yourself with my fingers."
"Fuck." Santana feels a tiny tremor just from the words.
She tries to start slow, but she feels so wet and so needy that she keeps pressing harder, moving Brittany's hand faster, keening and moaning as Brittany sucks on her neck and pinches her nipple. The whole time, Brittany whispers dirty words in her ear, and though it's different than their usual style of lovemaking, it's exactly what Santana needs to quiet the beasts in her mind.
Brittany doesn't move her fingers at all, and Santana knows she's letting her manipulate them however she wants. When she finally sides them down from where she makes tight circles on her clit, and enters herself, her own fingers slip in with them, and she gasps, never having felt this full before. The first time she comes, it's around both of their fingers, and her body shakes, struggling to kiss Brittany's lips.
"My wrist—" Santana whimpers. "Keep going. God, please keep fucking me, Britt."
"Are you—"
"Oh God." She feels another orgasm building, and she clamps her legs together, aching for more, aching to push Brittany further in. "Please, baby."
Brittany grasps Santana's hand, and squeezes it hard before she starts up again, thrusting in and out of her at such a furious pace that Santana feels blissful tears running down her cheeks. The throbbing inside of her runs in a continuous wave, until she finally goes numb, and she pulls at Brittany's hand, panting and shaking.
"Thank you." She whispers through her tears. "God…thank you."
"For what?" Brittany hums into her neck.
"For loving me like you do. For just…" Santana breaks down, hot tears running down her cheeks and sobs hiccuping from her chest until she can't breathe.
"Oh, honey, baby." Brittany gathers her up in her arms, hugging her close to her chest. "It's okay, it's okay."
"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. You just made me feel so good and now I'm—" She hiccups into Brittany's chest, her nose running all over her shirt. "Now I'm a fucking mess again."
"Hey, Santana. You've had such a day, cry, scream, do whatever you need to do. I'm here, and I love you, always, always."