SANTANA
At school the next day, I can sense that something is completely off before I even reach first period. The Glee kids all look like some important Broadway star that no one really cares about has died, and they're whispering with each other as if they're coming up with a plan of action to bring said unknown "star" back to life. I know I've got to figure out what the hell is going on, so I grab Brittany between classes and we corner the Crying Asian, Something Something-Chang, and ask her what the deal is.
"Rachel was poking around for information about Puck and Quinn. She seems to think that there is 'something going on there,'" she confesses, looking scandalized and moderately concerned.
I personally feel like someone has pulled the floor out from under me, and I place a hand as casually as possible on Britt's shoulder to steady myself.
"Listen here, Asian #1, we need to put this shit on lockdown. Not a word to anyone until we can all come up with a plan. Got it?"
Chang nods furiously, and Britt leads me away to the nearest bathroom.
"Calm down, Santana."
I duck down to check the stalls. All clear.
"Calm down?! Brittany…Quinn moved into my house. She's going to tell Finn what's going on. If Berry sticks her GIGANTIC fucking shnoz into their business, I'm gonna kill that psychotic little bitch diva on the spot."
"Whoa." Britt looks positively overwhelmed with all the information I just told her. I feel a flash of guilt that I'm just now telling her so many things, when normally she'd be the first I'd tell.
"Yeah, whoa. Humpty Dumpty Hudson deserves Quinn telling him the truth, even if he's nearly brain dead, and if Berry blabs that shit no one will ever put that awkwardly round egg back together again. Not only that, but Q needs the opportunity to set things straight, too. Plus…" I know it's selfish to even be thinking about me right now, but I can't help it, and my frustration comes bursting forth, "GOD! Why can't we have 5 minutes to figure our own shit out?!"
I grab the sides of a sink and lean over it, gripping as tightly as I can. I'm actually seeing red, amongst other colors that cloud my vision. I close my eyes tightly, and I try to contain the fury that I can feel swirling inside of me.
Brittany comes up alongside of me and begins running her hand up and down my back.
"Do you think you should talk to Quinn?" she asks softly.
"I don't know. She's been so stressed out. I think we need to try to quash this without making a big deal of it. And if we can't, I will put Berry Quite Contrary in the ICU, where her two dads can cry dramatically and sing her songs until she comes out of the coma she has hopefully spent having a horrible nightmares about getting owned Lima Heights style."
I know I'm ranting some crazy shit, but when I see Britt try to stifle a laugh at my ridiculous threat, I can't help but laugh a little too. I need to get my shit together and come up with a plan, and I need to get Brittany to class before the bell rings.
It's going to be okay.
"Sex is not dating."
And Puck and I haven't slept together in weeks, but whatever.
"If it were, Santana and I would be dating."
What the actual FUCK?
My stomach does a literal flip as I hear Brittany announce to some of the biggest gossipmongers in the school that we've been sleeping together. My thoughts fly while my brain simultaneously disconnects from my mouth as I try to think of a clever way to play this off. My sharp tongue fails me in my moment of need and I settle on continuing the conversation as if nothing out of the ordinary has happened, hoping that Brittany's comment is written off like 90% of the crazy things she says are. I ramble out some made up logic for not blabbing about Quinn's baby daddy, focusing hard on pushing down the nausea that is still washing over me. I barely register the end of our little chat and look at Brittany coolly before shutting my phone.
The hits just keep on coming…
"So are you going to come over tonight?" her voice sounds light, but I can tell she's really asking if I'm mad at her. I can feel it in the way her eyes jump across my face.
I am taken aback by the question, and then a cold realization washes over me. I've never actually told her that Quinn and I are…together?…dating?...whatever we are.
"I…can't…tonight. Sorry Britt," I say, looking away from her bright blue eyes. I can't believe I've managed to leave out something so crucial, but now is not the time to talk about this. My voice fades out in a pathetic apology.
"Oh. Okay," I hear from beside me.
"Let me walk you to class," I say, flashing a quick smile at my best friend as she steps in next to me.
I can tell she's trying to seem nonchalant, but she's clearly avoiding my eyes. Instinctively, I wrap my pinkie around hers and feel her squeeze my finger lightly before she stops walking and steps to the side of the hallway, breaking our link. I turn back toward her, giving her a quizzical look. Brittany sucks in a deep breath and glances into my eyes before looking down.
"I'm sorry, Santana," she breathes out, her voice wavering. "I didn't think. I mean, I thought, but I didn't think the right things. I was gonna just think it to myself and then I said it because I forgot that it matters to some people, that it matters to you, and I'm just so, so sorry."
I look down to see her hands at her sides, her thumb rhythmically pressing her pointer and middle fingers. Her fingertips are turning white from the pressure. I recognize the nervous gesture instantly and feel my guilt wash over me. I reach out and squeeze one of her hands quickly. She finally looks up into my eyes again, and I feel my heart swell painfully with the love I feel for this beautiful girl.
"Britt…" I can't find the right words for her, but I need to. "Don't be sorry, I'm not mad at you," I finally say, and I can see the doubt written on her face. "We're fine, B. You're my best friend, okay?" I dip my head down to draw her eyes to mine and raise my eyebrows, willing her to accept my words.
I'm rewarded with an emphatic nod and a smile; I return her radiant smile and hold my pinkie up. I'm relieved when she doesn't hesitate to link our fingers once again.
QUINN
I see Britt and Santana walking down the hall with their pinkies linked. San looks like someone just kicked her in the gut, and Brittany looks completely abashed. Their expressions make me strangely uneasy. Santana sees me and her eyes immediately brighten. Something is off, but she gives me a half-smile that turns into a smug little smirk before she's completely past me, and I can't help the smile that pulls at the corners of my mouth.
I open my locker and dig for my books, but my mind is on the awkward expressions that Santana and Britt were just wearing. I'm surprised when I close my locker and find Rachel Berry standing right next to me.
She babbles on about Jewish baby diseases, and by the time she's done speaking I'm completely horrified. I've managed to be impregnated by basically the only Jewish guy I know, and now my perfect little bastard child might have some terrible genetic disease aside of being related to Puck.
Oh God.
I'm going to have to ask Puck if he could be a carrier, but I'm willing to bet he'll have no idea anyway. Maybe I should just ask Mr. L when I get home. He's a doctor of something. I need Santana; I need to talk to her about this.
I take a couple of deep, slow breaths to fight the rising panic. I need to get to class. I know I'll see Santana before Glee.
It's going to be okay. Santana promised.
I grab Santana in the hall before Glee practice and pull her aside. We'd agreed to be cautious around each other today, but this is urgent. She must realize this, because she doesn't question it.
"ThereissomekindofcrazyJewishbabydiseaseorsomethingandIneedtogettestedtomakesuremybabydoesnthaveit," the words leave me in a terrified rush.
Santana's forehead scrunches up in confusion for just a second before her expression changes into a cautious, soothing one.
"Quinn, calm down. Say that again, slower. It's okay."
For some reason her tone infuriates me. I'm not a child and she's talking to me like a parent instead of...whatever she is to me. Not only that, she clearly doesn't understand that I'm panicking because that is the actual proper response to finding out your kid could have a debilitating genetic disease.
"Jesus fucking CHRIST, Santana. Try listening, maybe." Now I have her attention, as evidenced by the shocked 'O' her mouth forms and the fact that her eyebrows couldn't be any higher on her forehead. "There is some kind of genetic Jewish baby disease, and I need to get tested to see if my baby has it," I say each word slowly, like I'm talking to Finn.
Santana takes in my tone and her face hardens. She looks down as I enunciate each word, and I can see her take a deep breath, clearly trying to calm herself. I expect her to snap back at me, but when she picks her head up she suddenly looks past me and her face goes from hurt to murderous. She leans out and speaks around me.
"Hey dwarf, if you want to live to see the Razzie Awards of your future, I suggest you grab your shit and get out of my line of sight in a motherfucking hurry, got it? No, don't give me your shocked 'who me?' look. Grab...your...FUCKING shit...and get...lost."
I don't turn around, but I hear the clipped sound of Rachel's awkward gate as she evidently stomps away. Santana refocuses her attention on me. It's my turn to look shocked, and I give her a wide eyed look that says, "what was that?"
"Okay, we'll talk to my dad when we're both home later and ask him about it. Who even told you about this disease?" She completely ignores my look AND my bitchy tone from before.
"Rachel did, why?"
A sly smile ghosts on Santana's mouth, and I can see something akin to fury flash in her unfocused eyes. I'm so completely confused by her demeanor today that I don't even know what to say.
"That little shit..." she says under her breath, then makes eye contact with me again. "Look, don't worry about it Q-ball, we'll take care of it, okay?"
I nod, smiling at the nickname. She hasn't called me that in months, and I'm certain she's brought it back just to make me smile. She gives me a half-smile in response and turns to walk away.
"Wait, San...I'm sorry I snapped at you earlier. I was just freaking out."
She gives me a full grin at that and shakes her head.
"Don't be an idiot, Fabray."
I watch her saunter away and have to look at the ceiling when I realize I'm staring at her ass.
SANTANA
We're goofing around in the choir room after school, and I feel the first moment of near relaxation I've had since we cornered the Gothic Oriental this morning. I'm actively trying not to look at Quinn, but every few minutes my eyes slide over to her. I know everyone in Glee must know she moved into my house by this point, but our transition from barely speaking to butt buddies would still raise more eyebrows than I'm willing to deal with right now. We have made a point of being friendly but not close all day. I even sat near Puck when we had Glee earlier. But after talking to Quinn this morning about that bullshit Rachel fed her, I know she needs me to actually be there for her. I can see she's worrying without me reassuring her that it's going to be okay.
After our little chat I did some research on Jewish genetic diseases instead of going to my 6th period class, and I'm pretty sure I know which one Rachel tried to convince Quinn her kid might have. As if I didn't have enough reason to hate on that self-obsessed hobbit, she just keeps giving me more ammunition. Tay-Sachs requires two carrier parents, and even then the kid only has a 25% chance of having the disease. So basically, Berry scared the shit out of Quinn just so she could play Nancy Drew and stick her gigantic facial appendage in other people's business. I'm hoping I scared her off before she realized what Quinn was talking to me about, but God knows that girl wouldn't have any problem ruining lives over a suspicion. When I get that selfish little freak alone I'm going to go ballistic.
Fuck it.
I start towards Quinn, not caring what anyone thinks. I can't let her sit there in misery like that. I'm a step away when I see Quinn's eyes widen and a blur of movement out of the corner of my eye. By the time I've turned my head, Finn is punching Puck repeatedly. I see Berry slip in the door and stand, looking horrified, by Kurt.
Oh fuck. OH FUCK.
I can hear Finn cursing at Puck in between wild punches, but I turn my attention to Quinn. I'm not sure what to do. Part of me wants to drag her out of here before Finn has a chance to ask, but the other part knows it won't change anything. In my moment of indecision, Quinn moves closer to the fight, and I can see she knows what this is about. Her face crumples into a grimace as the tears start to cascade down her cheeks.
Mr. Schue comes flying in to pull Finn off Puck, and I know I've lost my window of opportunity.
"TELL THE TRUTH!" Finn's voice is harsh. I don't exactly adore the guy, but in this moment I feel a wave of sadness and sympathy for him. Losing Quinn would devastate me, finding out she'd been lying to me about something this huge would actually destroy me.
Puck gives an idiotic response that has Finn screaming at him, and I foolishly hope they'll keep the argument between them without involving Quinn at all. Of course, I should have counted on my girl to open her big mouth and insert herself into the fray.
"Who told you this, Finn?" Damn it, Q.
"Obviously it was Rachel," Kurt says, clearly pissed off.
"What? I didn't do anything." I want to punch her in the face.
"Yeah, it was Rachel, but I wanna hear it from you. I wanna hear it from both of you," Finn confirms my suspicions.
No, I don't want to punch her in the face—I'm going to punch her in the face. I feel the muscles in my body twitch as I get ready to knock Berry out with the full weight of my wrath behind my fist.
"NO! THEY'RE BOTH LYING TO ME!"
Finn's shout freezes me in place for a second. He's justifiably enraged, but his anger is directed at my Quinn, and I feel myself shift into protective mode.
"Is it true? Just tell me. Is it true?"
My heart aches at the look on Quinn's face. God, I want to stop this, but I know it won't matter. She steps forward and looks at Finn for a moment.
"Yes," she breathes out, "Puck is the father."
I see Puck nodding behind Quinn as she says it, and I actually want to tear his head off. He's acting almost proud of himself, and it disgusts me.
"So a-all that stuff in the hot tub? You just made that up?"
If his stupidity wasn't so heartbreaking at the moment I'd roll my eyes. Seriously, dude?
"You were stupid enough to buy it!" Puck says to Finn, and I'm shocked at his audacity.
Finn looks murderously angry and goes to push past Quinn to go after Puck. Mr. Schue grabs him, but I find myself instinctively stepping forward to protect my pregnant best friend.
"I am so sorry." Quinn is crying harder now.
"Screw this. I'm DONE with you. I'm done with…I'm done with ALL of you!"
When Finn sticks his meaty finger in Q's face I take another tiny step forward involuntarily, but then he stalks off after kicking some random shit. I'm defensive of Quinn, but I realize that my anger is directed almost entirely at Puckerman for this shit show. And Rachel, of course. I just feel bad for Finn at this point.
Quinn whimpers as she turns and looks in my eyes for the briefest of seconds, then she's headed out the door like a bat out of hell.
I pause for just a second, feeling the urge to straight up drop Berry or Puck before I go after her.
"This is on you," I practically spit at Rachel. I make eye contact with Brittany and she immediately follows as I head off in search of the love of my life.
QUINN
My chest feels oddly constricted, and I know I'm on the verge of hyperventilating. I hurry myself down the hall, struggling to breathe. Eventually I turn into the nearest bathroom and slam a stall door shut behind me. I stand with my hands on the walls, caught between not wanting to be in this tiny space and not wanting to have my freak out in a public place. It's becoming harder and harder to breathe. I close my eyes and try to focus on the air in my lungs.
In, out. Come on stupid, calm down. In, out.
I can just barely hear my sobs over the sound of my pounding heart in my ears and the wheezing sound that is terrifying me with each breath I attempt to take.
CALM DOWN, LUCY! IN…OUT. YOU NEED TO BREATHE, NOW!
"Quinn?" I hear from outside of my stall. "Quinn is that you?"
Brittany.
I try to speak to her, but instead just make a ragged gasping sound that sends me into full blown panic mode.
"Shit, hang on Quinn!"
I hear the door prop open and then Brittany shouting.
"SANTANA, SHE'S IN HERE! HURRY UP, SHE'S FREAKING OUT!"
Every time I try to breathe in it feels like I'm losing air instead. I can no longer hear myself sobbing.
Oh God, the baby.
I hear the distinct squeak of sneakers on the floor and then pounding on the stall door.
"Quinn, open up."
Santana.
I'm fumbling with the door lock with shaking hands. I can't seem to get it. Come ON.
"Damn it. Quinn, back up. BACK UP!"
I fall backwards slightly when it flies open suddenly with a loud crash. I can see little dark spots in my already blurred vision, but through them I see an out-of-focus Santana take in my situation and reach out to grab my arm. She leads me out of the stall and leans me against a wall next to the sink.
"Okay baby, you're okay. We're going to breathe together, okay?"
Her voice is soothing, but I can hear the underlying strain. She's trying desperately to control her voice so she's doesn't scare me. I nod, trying to look at her face through my tears.
"Just listen to me. Here put your hands on my chest so you can feel me breathe," she gently places my hands for me and covers them with her own. "Okay now, through your nose, nice and slow. Breathe in with me."
My lungs are screaming at me, but I try very hard to listen to her instructions.
"Good girl, now with me again, breathe out. Nice and easy."
I don't want to breathe out what little air I have, but again I comply. I close my eyes.
"Same thing again, beautiful. You've got this. In through your nose."
I can feel Santana's chest rising, and her hands leave mine. I feel her gently wipe tears off of my face and then return her hands to mine.
"And now out, real slow," I feel her body turn slightly toward the door. "Brittany, come here."
I open my eyes at that, and see Santana turn her head away from me to whisper in Brittany's ear. She looks back at me and gives me a little smile as Brittany rushes out of the bathroom.
"You're doing great, baby. See? You breathed in on your own that time. Keep going now. Breathe out."
I don't feel like I'm doing great. I can feel the air in my lungs, kind of, but my vision is only getting blurrier, but not in a teary way. This revelation does not help the panic.
"Quinn," Santana says my name firmly. "Stay with me, honey, okay? Breathe with me now, in real slow."
I feel weak, and bend my legs to let myself sit down. Once I unlock my knees I fall suddenly, only saved from hitting the floor by Santana's strong arms hooking under my own. She lowers me until I'm sitting, then turns my body and lays me down flat. She picks each of my legs up and bends my knees before placing my feet flat on the ground to keep them like that. I feel her pull my shoes off, then she's back at my side on her knees. I feel a sudden, slight tug at the back of my neck.
"Come on Lucy Q, I need you to stay with me now."
I feel her lips press against the back of the hand she's holding for a long moment. My limbs feel oddly heavy. I open my eyes and look at Santana. She seems farther away than she should be. My hand is clasped in both of hers, a small gold cross on a chain is woven between her fingers, and she's pressing her forehead to our entwined hands. Her body is rocking slightly and her mouth is moving.I try to focus on what she's saying.
"…Thy will be done, on earth as it is in heaven. Give us this day our daily bread and forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us. And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil. Amen. Oh God please help her, please."
Santana's fervent whisper seems like a dream to me. I close my eyes again and feel her breath on my ear.
"I love you, Quinn. Hang on. It's going to be okay, I promise you baby."