Chapter Eleven


They were really doing this. Holy fuck. She felt sorry for Quinn, her palms were really sweaty, like really sweaty, but she was not letting go any time soon.

Some of the club had pitched in to hire a limo to travel together and all the hot air from a lot of people all close together was not helping matters. If the ride had lasted any longer her make-up would have melted off, she was sure of it. Blaine, Kurt's boo, came to her rescue when he handed her a glass of champagne - a gift from Judy. It might not have helped with the heat, but it sure as hell settled some of her fraught nerves.

When the car pulled to a stop Quinn got out before her and was a real gentlewoman about the whole thing, she held her hand out and everything. Colour her impressed with the chivalry and thankful for the cold air outside.

"You ready?" Quinn asked as she slid her hand around her waist.

"You know me, always ready."

They were interrupted by Rachel's dramatics as she whined about how cold it was, clinging to both Kurt and Blaine. They probably hadn't been betting on being in a thrupple tonight, but Rachel and Finn were definitely not happening again anytime soon and she seemed quite taken with Blaine. So, unluckily for Kurt, here they were. The three musketeers. Speaking of Finn, he'd agreed to do Artie a solid and drive Artie, Brittany, and Puck in a separate car to meet the rest of them when they got there.

"Shall we get inside before one of us dies of hypothermia?" Kurt asked as he pulled Rachel, and therefore Blaine, in the direction of the school's entrance.

Santana and Quinn weren't far behind, Quinn squeezing Santana closer as they reached the door.

"Hey, guys!" The slamming of a car door and Brittany's call stopped them in their tracks. "Wait up!" Brittany came running over, leaving the boys to help Artie out. "Aren't you guys pumped?" Her smile lit up her face.

"Totally," Santana gave a wary side-eye to Quinn, who pinched her hip.

"Yeah, Britt. You look really nice."

"Thanks, Quinn! So do you, you're both looking really hot."

Santana took the time then to really appreciate Quinn's appearance, her hair was pinned up leaving her defined jaw line and neck exposed. She had to hold back a smirk knowing that some carefully applied make-up on a spot there was covering up a hickey. As though reading her mind Quinn gave her a look that told her to stop. She just raised her eyebrows and shrugged, trailing her eyes down the pale blue dress Quinn had on, it was certainly a return to Quinn's old style and she wore it well. When Santana first saw her she couldn't believe how beautiful she looked. Well, she could, because Quinn had always been beautiful, but being together had opened her up to a whole new world of appreciation. Quinn was lightly drawing a pattern on her waist and it distracted her from fully listening to what Brittany was talking about. She could fill her in later. In more ways than one.

"We should get a photo! My mom told me to make sure I got pictures, apparently these are the best years of our lives." Brittany let out an airy laugh. "I sure hope not. But it's a good idea, no? Here I'll get somebody to take it." Brittany asked somebody who was making their way inside and called Kurt and the others to come back to get a group photo. Santana noticed how Quinn tensed as Puck made his way over with Finn and Artie.

"Okay guys, on three. One, two," Santana plastered on her best smile as she was huddled into the group, Mike on one side, Quinn on the other, "three!"

A quick flash and they were falling away from each other eager to get inside once and for all, she noticed that Puck was pulling Quinn aside and it set her on edge until Quinn glanced towards her with a nod. With that she followed the rest of them, lightly punching Finn in the arm and getting a grin out of him. He'd been embarrassed when Quinn had let him down, but he was a good sport about it, he was alright sometimes she supposed.

"Make it quick, Puck."

"Fine, fine." He scuffed the tip of his shoe on the pavement and nervously rubbed the back of his head.

Quinn hugged herself against the chill, she was starting to question why she was giving the time of day. "Puck."

"I want to apologise."

Quinn scoffed, "You want to apologise?"

Puck scowled, but as though remembering why he'd wanted to talk with Quinn, fixed his features, "Yeah, I do. Listen, it's gotten weird between us and I don't want it to be like that. We used to like each other, or at least I thought we did and then all of this stuff happened between us and it's gone to shit."

"I wonder why." Quinn muttered.

"Hey, it's not all me you know."

"Fuck you." She spat, pointing at him. "This is your apology, don't come to me and turn it around. I've had every right to be angry with you. We both made a mistake, I can admit to that, but fuck you for using it against me. I don't care if it was a joke to you, it has never," she took a heaving breath as she felt her anger start to bubble up, "never! Been a joke to me."

"Shut up, you're making a scene." A few students who were making their way inside had slowed their stroll to eavesdrop.

Quinn let out a harsh, garbled laugh and stormed inside as Puck quickly followed. She led him to a classroom and slammed the door behind them. "Happy?"

"I know it's not a joke, Quinn! She was my daughter too!" Puck's own emotion was getting the better of him as he kicked at one of the tables.

"Oh, yeah? Then what's with the 'baby momma' shit, you fucking idiot? How would you like a constant reminder that you couldn't keep her?"

"You think I don't have constant reminders? That my mom doesn't talk about her like she's her granddaughter, someday bound to turn up on our doorstep wanting to meet her grandma? Maybe I wanted you to hurt too."

"That doesn't give you the right!" Quinn slammed her hands down on the table opposite Puck. "You don't think I haven't been hurting enough as it is?"

Puck stopped his pacing then and let out a defeated breath. "I know. I know." He sat on the chair closest to him and hung his head as he wiped away a tear that had escaped. "I'm sorry, Quinn."

Quinn didn't know what to say. She felt sorry for him and she hated that she did. She worked her jaw and sat down on the edge of the table. They sat in silence for a moment.

"So you and Santana, huh?" Quinn lifted her gaze to Puck's, he had a faint smile on his face.

Quinn wondered what Santana must have been doing. Probably making fun of Blaine's hair or something else antagonistic because she was worried about why Quinn was taking so long.

It made her smile too, albeit a weak one.

"Yeah."

"I had no idea you were an actual dy- I mean gay girl, erm woman, lesbian. Sorry, dude."

Quinn snort out a genuine laugh. "Dude? Really?"

Puck laughed too as he stood up, "Hey, I'll work on it."

"You better, otherwise you'll have both of us to deal with."

Puck's face told her that he didn't mind the sound of that.

"Ew, no."

He raised his hands in a placating manner. "I didn't say anything."

"I think that's for the best. Shall we go join the others?"

"Yeah, they might think we're making another baby."

Quinn turned around and thumped him in the arm, "I mean it, Noah. Stop it."

"That was making fun of both of us that time." Quinn's glare was answer enough. "Fine, fine. Your wish is my command. No more."

They walked down the hallway with plenty of space between them, "So, we good?" Puck asked.

"For now."

"I guess that will have to do."

"I guess."

Quinn carried on walking but stopped when she realised Puck wasn't walking beside her anymore. She stopped and looked behind her to see him texting on his phone. "Are you coming?"

Puck glanced up and nodded, but started to turn back towards the school exit. "Yeah, I'll see you guys later, just got some stuff to sort out for afters, if you catch my drift." He saluted her and took off with a slow jog out of the door.

She watched him go and was a little relieved she wouldn't have to walk with him the whole way. Their talk had been draining and although not a complete fix, it was probably the best she was going to get out of the situation. They both had their shit to deal with and they would not be working it out together.

Where the fuck was Quinn? And why was she taking so long? If Puck had done anything she swore to god that she would hit him where it really hurt then castrate him.

She was getting a cup of punch when Brittany joined her and hooked an arm around her neck and said "Cheese!"

The flash almost blinded her, but she'd managed a smile anyway.

"Where's Quinn?"

"She went to speak with Puck." Brittany pulled a face. "Yeah, that's what I'm thinking too."

"I'm sure it'll be fine."

"We'll see." Santana took a sip of the punch.

"We can dance until she gets here, we're here to have fun after all."

"Sure, Britt." She took the other girl's hand and did just that until she felt somebody tap her shoulder. Quinn stood there with a smile on her face, surely a good sign. "You okay?"

Quinn nodded and then as if by divine intervention the music switched to a slow number, Rachel was singing with Mercedes and they sounded beautiful together. Santana looked over to them on the stage, then looked back to Quinn with a question in her eye. Quinn's smile grew wider as she nodded again, stepping into Santana's space and putting her arms around her waist.

As soon as Quinn laid her hands on her, Santana felt herself warm up despite Quinn's skin still being a little chilly from being outside longer than her. She put her own arms around Quinn's neck and hugged her close, feeling safe in the crowd of students surrounded by their group of friends. It was fairly dark and people were too concerned with themselves to be bothered by two girls dancing together - especially when those two girls were once the top bitches in the joint.

"I know I've already told you this, but you look beautiful tonight." Quinn murmured in her ear.

Santana planted a quick peck on Quinn's neck from where her head was tucked into her shoulder. "So do you. I can't believe we're here."

Quinn tightened her hold, "I know. I'm so proud of you."

"Don't. You'll make me cry and this mascara isn't waterproof."

She felt Quinn's chest vibrate with a low laugh.

"Slow dancing is lot like hugging. It's nice." Quinn said.

"I have never thought of it like that and I never took you for much of a hugger."

"Well I'm not, but I like hugging you."

"You're so mushy." Santana chuckled.

"Shut up. If anybody is mushy out of the two of us it's you."

Santana gasped, "Me? That is such a big fat lie."

Quinn laughed into her ear, "I can't hug you too tight in case I squish you too much, y'know with all that mush."

The other girl leaned back with a goofy smile she couldn't hide. "Whatever."

"Whatever." Quinn mimicked and playfully rolled her eyes, earning a poke in her side. "Don't! It tickles."

"What?" Santana slyly poked her again. "This?"

Quinn tried glaring at her whilst keeping a lid of the laugh she felt bubbling up, "Stop."

"Okay, okay." Santana was still smiling at her, the dimples in her cheeks as defined as ever. She took a deep breath and the smile softened as she brought herself close enough to plant a light kiss on Quinn's lips.

"What was that for?"

"I just wanted to kiss you."

Before Quinn could reply she was distracted by the flash of Brittany's camera, she'd been taking pictures nonstop and had gotten to the point where she had begun taking pictures with random students she probably didn't even know.

Seeing that she'd caught Quinn's attention Brittany's face lit up and she made her way over to them.

"We should get a photo together with us being The Unholy Trinity and all."

"Do you think I could put that on my college applications?" Santana joked.

...

The night had been a success if she did say so herself. It seemed as though Santana had enjoyed herself and so had she. They lay cuddled up in Quinn's bed thinking about the year so far. It was certainly turning out differently than how Quinn had imagined it. For the better, she liked to think, despite the bumps in the road.

"I can't believe your mom is taking you on a cruise over Christmas."

Quinn groaned. "Don't remind me. I told her I didn't want to go but she started crying and it was just too much, so I said that I would. I think that guy she was dating broke it off. She's been a bit touch and go lately. And honestly, I won't hate not being in a big, empty house on Christmas. Maybe I can get a tan."

"You? Tan? You sure about that? I'm pretty sure you get third-degree burns even when it's overcast." Santana joked.

"I do not burn that badly."

"Summer camp disagrees. I used to think you were part snake, all that peeling skin." Santana shuddered for effect.

"Oh my god, don't. That's horrible." Quinn laughed. "My mom forgot to pack my hat and sunblock."

"Maybe if you didn't refuse my generous offer to share mine you might've saved yourself a week's worth of aloe baths."

"I accepted eventually, you've got to give me that."

"Yeah, after cooking yourself to a crisp. Don't worry though, I'll get you some to take."

"You will?" Quinn's tone told Santana she was genuinely touched.

"Of course. Can't have you coming back looking like a tomato." She said with a cheeky grin.

"What about you? Is it just you and your mom or is your abuela coming to see you?"

"Yeah, she's going to spend Christmas with us. I'm excited to see her, I feel like I've been a bad granddaughter, I haven't seen her in a few weeks. I got her a gift though, so hopefully, I can sweeten her up a little."

"Lucia's at her dad's right?"

"Yeah. No matter how many times she's missed Christmas with us, it's still weird every time. She text me earlier that her step-mom let her bleach her hair and it turned orange. Aren't you glad it's me you got out of the family? The one who can actually dye hair. Her dad even messaged me, which was nice."

"I haven't spoken to my dad in while." Quinn said as she twirled a pieces of Santana's hair around her finger.

"Do you want to?"

"Not really. Maybe someday."

"Fair enough." They let a comfortable silence fall between them. Long enough for Santana to fall into a light doze.

"You best not drool all over me."

The incoherent jumble of sounds that Santana responded with made Quinn chuckle softly, conscious to not wake her girlfriend.

Quinn was disappointed that she'd be missing Christmas with Santana, but they'd promised to spend all their time together up until she had to leave. With school pretty much over, that time was coming to an end sooner than she'd liked. Hopefully, time with her mom wouldn't drag too much and hey, maybe they'd bond or something like that.

With the somewhat promising thought, Quinn planted a soft kiss to Santana's forehead and let herself drift into sleep as well.

...

The holidays were upon Santana and her mother had set her to task by decorating the last-minute tree and setting the table whilst she flapped about the kitchen to make sure everything was in order.

They'd broken up from school with warm goodbyes to their friends and a few days later Santana was saying her goodbyes to Quinn. Since hitting the ocean, Quinn's connection had been spotty, so she hadn't been holding her breath to hear off of her any time soon. But as they say, absence makes the heart grow fonder. She felt kind of pathetic for missing Quinn so much so soon, but she couldn't help it. She was counting down the days until she saw her again.

"Santana! Have you put out the good plates?" Santana's mom, Maribel, called from the kitchen.

"Yes, mom!" Santana quickly collected the plates she'd put out to swap them with the ones her mom was on about.

After all the rushing about and frustration over the tangled Christmas lights, Santana stood hands on hips admiring her work. The dining room looked fancy as fuck if she did say so herself. The tree was decorated to perfection. She had just taken a picture to send to her sister when there was a knock at the door.

"San, get that will you. It'll be your abuela."

Santana felt a girlish excitement flood her, she had missed her abuela so much. She ran to the door, sliding to a stop as soon as she reached it. Flinging the door open, she was met with the face of the woman who had help raise her and was at the heart of so many of Santana's favourite memories.

"Abuela!" Santana greeted her with a warm hug, expecting to be squeezed within an inch of her life in return. When she didn't feel her abuela's arms wrap around her confusion washed over her.

Pulling back, hands still resting on her abuela's shoulders, Santana gave her a questioning look. In return, her abuela stared blankly back. The coldness of the reception alerted to Santana that something was wrong. Really wrong.

Taking a step back to let her abuela in a cold dread began to settle in the pit of Santana's stomach. When her abuela simply hung her coat and ignored her she felt herself break into a sweat.

What's happening?

"You're just in time. Get settled, I'll bring the food out." Maribel said.

Santana watched from the dining room's threshold as her abuela took her seat and pointedly refused to look her way.

"Are you ok, abuela? You don't seem yourself." Santana choked out, overcome with the anxiety of knowing something was off.

"Santana, what are you doing?" Maribel asked as she brought the turkey out from the kitchen. "Sit down."

Santana's eyes never left her abuela as she slowly made her way to sit down too.

"How are you, mama?" Maribel asked with a kiss to her mother's cheek.

"I have been better." The words were uttered with such a coolness that Maribel glanced to Santana to gauge whether she'd heard right. "You know, it is a shame."

"What's a shame?" Alma looked to Maribel when she asked.

"That today has been ruined."

Santana clenched her fists to stop herself from fiddling with the utensils in front of her.

Maribel laughed. "You're so dramatic. It must be where Santana gets it from," she winked at her daughter, hoping the teasing would get a smile out of her at least. But her daughter never looked her way.

"She gets nothing from me."

"Mama! What are you saying?"

The noise released from Santana's throat could only be described as a whimper, she was so confused, this had to be a nightmare.

"She is no granddaughter of mine." Alma pointed at Santana and it knocked all of the breath out of her.

"Abuelita." Her voice was pleading.

"No."

"Mama, explain yourself." Maribel's voice was stern, clearly confused as well but annoyed with her mother.

"I have nothing to explain. She is just like her father."

"What?" Both Maribel and Santana asked. Maribel's question was a pitch higher than her daughter's.

Alma pulled out her a crumpled up piece of paper and tried to iron out the creases to show her mom what looked to be a Facebook post, slamming it down on the table when she was satisfied it was straightened out. "Look."

Santana's mouth felt watery and her stomach hadn't stopped flipping. The legs of her chair screeched against the floor as she stood suddenly at the sight of what the picture was meant to be.

Honestly, she almost laughed. Almost. Her mind tripping over the idea of her abuela going to the library to print off a whole website page just to have proof on hand. Frothing at the mouth, no less. Complaining to all the other fossils in earshot, who also didn't know how to use computers, how disgraceful she was. Better yet, she struggled in bitter silence trying to figure out how to print something off by herself so she didn't have to face the shame of someone seeing she had a gay granddaughter. That thought is what made it an almost.

Her mom picked it up, a frown growing on her face the longer she looked.

"What is this?" She looked between Santana and Alma.

The picture was one of many in an album tagged 'xmas mems' and posted by Brittany. Unfortunately, Quinn and Santana's kiss had been caught in the background of one of them. Brittany must've tagged Santana in the album. She hadn't thought to change her privacy settings. How could she be so dumb? God she felt sick.

"Mom, I-" she couldn't finish her sentence as she felt overcome with tears.

"It's a disgrace."

There was a pause, it felt longer than it probably was and it didn't help Santana with that sick feeling.

"Don't." Maribel said finally and firmly.

"What?" Alma replied just as firm.

"Don't talk about her like that."

"Can you not see?" Alma waved her hands at the paper in Maribel's. "It's shameful, Maribel."

"Santana. What's this about?"

Santana couldn't think straight. She couldn't piece the thoughts together to even try to get out of it, maybe she didn't want to get out of it. "I like girls, mom."

"You like girls." Her mom's voice was surprisingly steady and it gave her a little bit of reassurance. "And Quinn?"

"Quinn's my girlfriend."

"Your girlfriend? And you're telling people this?" Alma spat.

"Shut up, mama."

"What?" Alma turned her venom on her daughter.

"I said shut up. Just stop, okay." Maribel was resolute but distressed. Seeing her usually so bull-headed and defiant daughter seem so small was breaking her heart. "I think you should leave."

"You want me to leave?" Alma got out between her teeth.

"You heard me."

"Well haven't you changed your tune. I thought you had more sense than this." Alma stood and collected her things. Before she left completely she finally addressed Santana properly. "I expected more of you."

It was like a knife to the chest.

She thought losing Brittany had hurt, but this. This felt like she'd been gutted.

"Mom," she cried.

Her mom pulled her into a hug, letting her tears fall as she rubbed her back to soothe her.

"Santana-"

"Mom, what did she mean?" Santana cut in between tears.

"She's an old woman set in her ways-"

"No, not that. About my dad. What did she mean?"

"San," she stroked Santana's hair, "it's not the time."

Santana's brow furrowed, she stepped out of her mother's embrace. "What?"

Her mom had tears in her eyes as they shifted across Santana's face, "Santana, please."

Santana took another step back, her mind reeling. "I don't understand. I- I've never pushed you about him. Maybe I should've."

"It's complicated. Your abuela," Maribel paused to play with the rings on her fingers before steeling herself and starting again. "Your abuela didn't approve. She stopped me from seeing him, had him kicked out of his house. He's been gone for so long, Santana."

"But why? Why am I like him? Because I'm a disappointment?" Santana's voice caught.

"He's gay, Santana. We were so young when we had you, he didn't know what he wanted until... he did. By then I was already pregnant. I found out by accident and told your abuela straight away. She hated him, she hated him so much, Santana. I did too for a while, I'm not proud of that. He broke my heart and I thought I wanted him gone. At the time I really did."

Santana stood in a numbed silence.

"Say something."

"What did you do?"

"We told his family. When he got back from work his father threw him out into the street with all his things and told him to never come back." Maribel's tears began to fall as she bit her lip and turned her head away in shame. "I didn't understand, Santana. I was a kid, I was stupid and I didn't realise what I was doing to the boy I loved."

"I can't believe this. I need to... I don't know. Sit down I think." Santana walked into the living room and sank into the sofa. Her mom followed her cautiously. Dried tear tracks lined her face, her throat hurt with the effort of holding back the rest of the tears she had. "My dad had no choice but to leave me. I've spent my whole life thinking he'd left because he couldn't be bothered. That he didn't give a shit." Her voice wobbled.

"Santana, I'm so sorry." Maribel pleaded, clutching her hands tightly together to stop herself from reaching out.

"Is that why you hate me?"

"What? I don't hate you!"

"You don't love me the same and now I know why."

"Don't be ridiculous, I love you utterly and wholly."

Santana scoffed and pushed her head as far back as she could to keep the tears at bay.

"Did he try to see me?"

Her mother's silence was deafening.

"Well!" Santana shouted, making her mom flinch. "Did he?"

"Once. I told him to leave and he never came back."

Santana laughed humourlessly and stood. "I can't do this." Santana closed her eyes and tried to centre herself. Thinking back to all the times she'd brought her dad up and how weird her mom and abuela would act. And then it hit her. There was a card. A card on her birthday that had been snatched out of her grasp. She was only five or six and couldn't remember all the details, but she remembered how the excitement over this magic, posted card was ripped away. She'd never had a posted card before, she'd seen it on the floor by the door and wanted to show her mommy. "He wrote to me."

"How-"

"He wrote to me and you didn't tell me." Santana's tone had darkened considerably. "I'm an adult now, mom. Just tell me."

"He did."

"Show me."

"Santana, I don't have them anymore."

"Bullshit!" Without warning, Santana moved quickly out into the hall and up the stairs.

"Santana!"

Santana swung open her mother's wardrobe and began to ransack it in search of the post from her dad that she just knew her mom still had. In her haste, she had smacked her hand pretty hard on the sharp edge of something and had started bleeding. The blood had started to drip onto the carpet, she hardly even realised.

And then she found it. A black box. As simple as that. Tucked in the far reaches, bland enough to be ignored by two curious daughters who raided your closet for colourful clothes and shiny things.

Lifting the lid she saw a pile of envelopes, all addressed to her. She fingered through them and couldn't believe the sheer amount of them. She placed the lid back on and turned to see her mom standing there, watching her. Fear in her eyes. Coward. She thought bitterly.

"I'm going to Rachel's." Santana said before she'd even really thought about what she was doing.

"Santana, it's Christmas. You can't leave, not like this. It's dangerous to drive when you're this emotional."

"Don't patronise me."

"I'm not. I'm your mother, I care about you. I don't want you to get hurt."

Santana laughed again, "Thanks for the concern."

She stormed past her mom into her own room and shoved some clothes into a bag, along with her charger and other things she'd need for a couple of days away. She took the stairs two at a time as she made her way down them, sighing when she saw her mom stood against the front door.

"Move." Santana snatched her keys off the side.

"Santana, don't leave. Please." Her mom begged. Seeing her mom like this made her heart ache, but she was overwhelmed and needed to leave. She felt her temper flaring as it was, staying wouldn't help matters.

"Mom, you need to move." When she didn't Santana took another deep breath, twisted on her heel and headed toward the back door.

Her mom's cries were the last thing she heard before the only sound was the crunching of snow beneath her feet. She'd made it to the end of Quinn's driveway before she realised her feet had taken her there on autopilot. Her heart ached again. Turning back around, she made her way back to her own house and quickly got in her car and put it into gear. As she drove to Rachel's she felt like she was floating above herself, every street passed was a blur, she didn't even notice she'd stopped in Rachel's driveway until she heard somebody knocking at the driver side window.

"Santana?" Rachel's worried voice carried through the glass.

Putting the car in park Santana gripped the steering wheel with everything she had and let out a gut-wrenching sob. Her chest heaved and her throat was tight. Everything just hurt so bad.

Worst. Christmas. Ever.