NOTHING I TELL YOU! NOTHING IS MINE!

When I woke up the next morning I felt hung over. My head and stomach hurt and my eyes were stingy from tears I only allowed myself to cry in my sleep.

I could hear the water in the bathroom running, and I forgot momentarily about the night before. Then all the memories came flooding back like a weight on my chest.

I had to hold my breath to keep from crying when Santana came out of the bathroom. Her eye still looked bruised, but the swelling had gone down enough that she could open it all the way.

"You look constipated." She grumbled sleepily as she flopped down on the bed next to me. I didn't say anything. I couldn't, or I would start sobbing, and I was supposed to be the strong one right now.

Obviously things are way, way fucked up when it comes down to Quinn Fabray, Queen of Fuck-Ups and Meltdowns being in charge of keeping things under control. The only thing worse would be having Rachel Berry in charge.

Santana sighed loudly and looked me over a few times before finally saying something that wasn't insulting. "So I guess you want to know what happened."

I nodded, keeping my eyes on the floor. I couldn't look at her.

"And I guess you wouldn't believe me if I said I walked into a door."

I shook my head. I wondered, for a moment, how far a person could get in life using only those two gestures. I guess if you included shrugging your shoulders, a person might not ever have to speak again.

Santana was quiet for a moment, and I honestly thought she was going to come up with another bullshit excuse to keep me quiet. But she didn't.

"First off, I need you to look at me. Okay? Really look at me. I know you're scared and afraid and worried… but you can't be feeling nearly as bad as I do."

I lifted my head. There were tears in her eyes again. Her face looked tired and sad and her forehead was wrinkled in that way it always is whenever she's thinking really hard about something. I reached my hand up to smooth away the wrinkles, just like I did when we were kids. That made her smile, and for the first time in weeks I felt like I'd finally accomplished something.

"Okay. I'm telling you, honestly, this doesn't happen a lot. Not really. And not this bad." She said, pointing at her eye. "We fight a lot, but not like this. He never hits me, especially not on my face. But we were arguing, and he was drunk off his ass. He was in my face yelling about some stupid shit, I don't even know what… and I pushed him. Really hard. He fell back and knocked his grandmothers ashes off the mantle, which was pretty hilarious... And don't even get me started on the ashes thing, like hellooo, we're CATHOLIC, why the hell are there ashes just chillin' on your mantle. But whatever, that's not the point…"

I put my hand on Santana's arm because she was rambling, which meant she was nervous and she was never going to get to the actual topic we were discussing. She sighed loudly and took a couple deep breaths before finishing. "Okay but yeah. He got mad and punched me in the eye. He started apologizing a lot right after that, but I was really fucking mad. I went to his moms' room and locked the door and watched some soap opera for like three hours straight until he sobered up. He dropped me off at home and I came straight here… End of story."

I didn't really know what to say. I didn't want to talk about this and neither did Santana. My mind went back to all those late night phone calls that kept me from falling asleep at night. I thought of all those times she called me in the middle of the day crying, asking when I would come home. And then I thought about that kiss.

That wonderful, beautiful, yet somehow tragic and broken kiss. Could that really have been only a couple months ago? Because it felt like it had been years since I sat with that broken girl on the couch. And yet here she was again, somehow even more broken then before.

My eyes fell to where my hand sat on her arm. I looked over her frame, and then back to her eyes. She was beautiful. Pregnant, bruised, tired, and beautiful in a way only Santana could manage.

And then it happened again. My lips were on hers, more gentle then our last kiss had been. The hand that rested on her arm moved to rest on her cheek, and the tears I only allowed myself to cry in my sleep made their way down my face for the first time in real life. But it felt like a dream.

I tried so hard to make her understand what this kiss meant. I tried to show her what I couldn't say out loud. That I could take care of her. That I could be everything she needed me to be. That I could love her and care for her way more the stupid fucking Antonio ever could. And for a moment, just one singular point in time, everything felt right and perfect.

But then we stopped kissing. And she looked at me with those sad eyes that told me everything I needed to know. She wasn't going to leave Tony. Things weren't going to change. And I was just going to have to live with that.

"I got you something." She said nonchalantly, as if we hadn't just been making out in my bed. She stood and wobbly made her way over to where she'd dropped her shopping bags from last night. "I forgot which bag it was in, so I just brought all of them. I didn't really account for the fact that that meant I would still have to look through them all to figure out… oh here it is!"

"Santana, I thought we didn't do Christmas gifts."

"I know, but look I saw it and I had to get it. I could help myself, you know how I am."

I tried to look disapproving, but I was grinning anyway. I know we should have been talking about what happened yesterday, or what just happened. Or, really, what's been happening the past five months, since Santana got pregnant. But none of those things were going happen without a fight, and I was too tired to fight with a pregnant Santana today.

She handed me an unwrapped, unmarked little square box with a red bow on top. I briefly wondered if there was an engagement ring in it, but quickly suppressed the thought because the box was way too big for that and it didn't really make sense anyway. But then again, neither did anything else that happened in the past 12 hours.

Inside was a gorgeous silver bracelet, with two charms on it. One was a heart, with a tiny silver heart very delicately attached to it. The other said "Mom."

"Uh San... as beautiful as this is, I'm not the one becoming a mother here… although technically I guess I've been a Mom for about four years now…"

"No, no, it's not like that. Look, I got Elieana one that matches it, except without that Mom charm." She was digging through her bags again to show me the much smaller version of my bracelet. "You know Hispanic women are always putting jewelry on their poor little big headed babies. Anyway, I was wondering if you would be her Godmother? Like would that be cool with you?"

I don't know why I started crying again when she said that, but I did. And I couldn't stop, and it was almost concerning because San started crying too. We were hysterical, and then we started laughing and we really looked crazy. But I said yes anyway, and I was more excited in that moment then I had been since I found out Santana was keeping the baby.

And for that moment, even with the tears and the black eye and the hung over feeling in my head, it felt like maybe, just maybe, everything would be okay.

I seriously dreaded going back to school. I didn't want to leave Santana by herself, but I didn't really have a choice. Even if I stayed in Lima, Tony wasn't going to let her spend all her free time with me. And I had to get back to school, because the second semester was starting soon and I barely got out alive from the first one.

I didn't get any calls from Santana through January or February, although I did get a card on Valentine's Day, with a picture of a teddy bear holding a box of chocolates. On the inside there was a handwritten note the said "Happy Valentine's Day Sugar Tits! Love, the Baddest Bitch in Ohio, aka. Santana, aka. Love-Monkey."

It made me laugh really hard, and in the envelope she included a picture of Elieana's latest sonogram. She was getting big really fast, and if I remembered correctly, she was due in May, but the doctors thought she may come early with the amount of stress Santana puts herself under, and the fact that she was HUGE.

Santana called me one day in the middle of March while I was working in the library on campus. I gave the librarian some bullshit excuse about my dying Great Aunt Mary, who I'm pretty sure I've told her was dead several times. I honestly wonder sometimes how I haven't been fired yet, and I know it must be because no one else wants to work in a stuffy old library for close to nothing when you could be working at a surf shop on the beach or something. This was Cali, after all.

"Sup Love Monkey?" I answered, recalling the card from Valentine's Day.

San burst into laughter immediately, which made me smile really hard. "Oh my god, you almost made me pee my pants!" She yelled into the phone.

"Sorry!" I looked around to see if anyone could hear the noises coming from my phone.

"It's fine, Sugar Tits, I just wasn't expecting that. Dear God, that was funny."

My chest felt really light. I was so happy to hear her voice that if I'd been struck by lightning right then, I don't think I would even flinch. "So what's shakin' bacon? Why you calling me in the middle of a Thursday afternoon? You off work early?"

"Well sort of. I'm off work until August. The doctor put me on bed rest." She sighed.

"Aw, so I guess you're pretty chubby now then?" I was pacing in front of the library now, because I didn't really have anywhere to sit and I couldn't stand still. I looked at my watch and figured my shift was over in ten minutes anyway, and decided to just let myself off early.

"Yeah I guess so. Anyway, Tony's out of town on business or something, who knows, and now I'm stuck at his Mom's house until the baby is born. Sucks ass because his little sister is like, 14 and she's a bitch if I've ever met one."

I giggled a little before asking why, which launched Santana into this long story about how this girl once walked in on them having sex, and ever since then she's had it out for Santana. "The little demon put rat poison in my food once. Lucky for me her Mom saw it before I did. Not that I'd eat anything that perra estúpida gave me anyway."

From my limited remembrance of Spanish from Mr. Shues class, I knew that mean 'stupid bitch.'

"Pequeño diablo." I commented, remembering that that meant 'Little Devil.' That made Santana laugh too, and my heart almost hurt with how much I missed that sound. "So what are you going to do? Just stay there?"

"I don't really have another choice." She sighed. "You Mom actually offered to let me stay there, and I wanted to take her up on it so bad, but Tony would be pissed."

Sometimes I want to just shake Santana. And yell at her really loud. But I knew that wouldn't help. My mother had quit working very shortly after her new boyfriend proposed to her with a ring I'm positive he bought with her money. I guess when you have a nice big divorced settlement, and plenty of early retirement to cover your bills, working isn't really a necessity. She said she was going to spend her time "doing the things she always wanted to go." Which I assume means pottery class and month long vacations in Hawaii.

It also means she'd have plenty of time to take care of Santana until Baby Elieana came, instead of her staying in with HIS family and risk poisoning.

I considered saying all these things, but once again I kept quiet. That seemed to be all I did lately. Not say things that needed to be said. Instead with talked about nail polish, our favorite Kardashians, and my apparent "dry spell," and lack of female interaction since I got back to school.

Santana thought it was because I was so busy with work and mid-terms coming up. I wanted to laugh, but I didn't. It wasn't either of those things. There were plenty of hot girls around campus that I could easily talk into a drunken one night stand. I mean, damn, last year I fucked my way through the entire cheerleading squad, and maintained my 4.2 GPA. And believe me when I say the football team was pissed.

It wasn't that at all. It was just the fact that at every party I went to, I found myself looking for specific characteristics in girls that I never really looked for before. Characteristics like being a short, skinny Latina with a fiery temper and a basketball shoved up her shirt.

I think that even if I managed to find one of those, I wouldn't really be happy unless they said their name was Santana and they were from Lima, Ohio. Of course, I didn't tell her that either.

Santana called me every day that month. I knew that meant Tony was out of town, but I couldn't figure out what the hell he was doing that was taking so long. San said it was "Business," but it was starting to sound like she didn't believe it either.

I knew she had to be bored out of her skull. I actually had to buy a headset, because I seriously couldn't talk her into waiting until I was out of class or off of work to call me. Not that I tried very hard. She was extremely persistent, and if I didn't answer she would just keep calling and calling until I did, or she managed to kill my phone battery.

Also, I had to purchase two new phone batteries.

Santana would call me the second she woke up, grumbling about how Tony's family never bought American food and she was "so fucking sick of eating pupusas." This was usually followed by her watching Regis and Kelly for an hour, followed by Tyra, Followed by Ellen, and eventually she would get tired and take a nap.

Lucky for me, San's naptime was usually right around my first class of the day, and if I was lucky she wouldn't call again until I was on my way to work. However, if she wasn't sleepy or she woke up early I would have to listen to her whine endlessly in my ear, while also trying to take notes and listen to the lecture. Normally it didn't work out well, and I had to steal someone else's notes after class.

Santana didn't really care if I wasn't responding to her while we were on the phone. I think she's just lonely, and somehow talking to someone, even if they're completely unresponsive, helps with that.

Things went on like this until April, about 5 weeks before San's due date. One day she just didn't call, and that's how I knew he was back. She didn't call me at all that week, or the next. It hurt me, it really did. I started considering dropping all my classes and moving back to Ohio to be with her.

It never happened though. Santana didn't call, and I didn't go. I just stayed in California, watching my A's turn to C's as my nights became sleepless again and my heart became heavy. I kept my phone with me at all times, but it didn't ring.

Okay, I'd like to clarify a few things.

1. If you don't like my story, don't read it.

2. Everyone has a different style of writing, as well as different perceptions of people, places, and events. The way I write about GLEE characters is the way I see it. Some things may seem out of character to you, and thats fine because that's how its supposed to be. Isn't that what Fan Fiction is about? Taking something and making it your own.

3. I'm not getting paid to do this, so forgive me if I have a few mistakes. Believe me, when I see them I correct them. But chances are if I just spent 4 hours on the computer writing something, I probably didn't feel like editing it before I posted it. BUT I WILL. Just give me a chance.

4. I didn't really think about the time difference between Ohio and California until after I wrote this, so that probably all kinds of fucked up. As well as many other things, so if I messed something up (time related,) just pretend its right because I'm a lazy fuck and I'm not going to fix it.

Other then that, thanks everyone for reading, reviewing, favoriting and following this story! I'm really enjoying writing it, AND YOU LUCKY BASTARDS SHOULD BE EXCITED! I POSTED TWO CHAPTERS IN ONE DAY! THAT NEVER HAPPENS! I'm going to try for a third, and I know I probably have all kinds of spelling and punctuation errors but you're just going to have to deal with it for now. I LOVE YOU ALL! *MWAH!*