"Your partners will be chosen by fate," Mr. Schue said to the Glee club.

As always, Santana found herself confused as to why Mr. Shue was making yet another assignment and wasn't preparing them for sectionals. This time he wanted them to sing a ballad to each other, but the trick was, they couldn't pick their partner. They had to pull names from a weird high-top hat. Santana was thinking to herself where the hat had come from. Did Schue just have that lying around? Weird.

Puck was first, he pulled Mercedes. Then it was Artie, he got Brittany. Finn got Kurt, Tina got 'other asian', which Santana supposed was Mike, and finally it was Santana's turn to pick a name from the hat. She picked a piece of paper and unfolded it.

"Quinn," Santana said, trying to hide her excitement. She didn't look to see Quinn's reaction, she simply walked back to her seat.

That left Rachel with Mr. Schue because Matt was out sick. If you count having a spider in your ear sick, which Santana did, that is simply disgusting. Somehow Mr. Schue and Rachel ended up singing a love song together. It was hilarious, and nauseating. It looked like Rachel was falling in love at that exact moment. Santana wanted to vomit. Mr. Shue looked scared, he was looking at Rachel like she was crazy, and she kind of was.

Santana knew she had to talk to Quinn about the song they were going to sing, and about other stuff too, but right now she really had to go to a doctor. She couldn't just keep taking painkillers for her hand. She had been avoiding it, hoping the pain would just go away, but it didn't. So here she was now, walking into her father's office. She knocked on the door, and when she heard the 'come in' from her father, she did just that.

"Hey dad," Santana felt awkward, she hadn't seen her father in months. She thought it had been five, but it could have been more. She had seen her mother like four months ago, but she really wasn't sure.

"Santana," her father seemed surprised to see her. "I wasn't expecting to see you."

"I wasn't expecting to see you either, but I need something,"

"Of course, what do you need?" Santana could hear some guilt behind his voice.

"I cut my hand a few days back, it hasn't stopped hurting since," Santana explained as she sat down on the chair in front of her father's desk.

"Can I see it?" He asked, putting his glasses on. Santana extended her left hand, and waited for her father to unwrap it. "Have you disinfected it?"

"Of course I have," she muttered defensively.

"It's a little bit infected, but it hurts so much because it's a sensitive zone. What happened?" he asked, not from concern, but as a doctor.

"Beer bottle that was laying around." Santana explained. At that her father looked up. Santana could see he wanted an explanation, but she wasn't willing to give one. They stayed silent the rest of the time. When he was done tending to the injury, he wrapped it up in new gauze. As soon as he was done Santana stood up and made her way to the door, but suddenly stopped.

"See you in a couple of months?" she asked, sourly.

"I'll see you at home," her father said.

"Yeah, sure." Santana scoffed in response, and left.

Quinn and Finn were having a fight in the hallway. Santana was staring at them from a corner. They really needed to stop having private conversations in the hallway. Apparently Finn had told his mom about the baby, and Quinn was berating him. Santana kind of felt bad for the guy, he was dealing with all of this pressure for a child that isn't even his. When Quinn walked away from him, Santana knew it was time for them to talk. She grabbed Quinn by the hand when she neared the corner, and pulled her into an empty classroom.

"What do you want, Santana?" Quinn asked, irritated.

"I just wanted to see how you were doing," Santana said.

"I'm great," Quinn muttered, and made a move to leave. Santana got in her way.

"Do you need anything? Do you want to talk or something?" Santana offered.

"No." Quinn answered curtly. She turned to leave, but Santana stopped her again.

"I was actually wanting to ask you if you wanted to come to my house tonight? I could cook for you." Santana said.

"No." Quinn said, and left.

"Ok," Santana was left whispering to herself.

"I'm talking to Tina," Mercedes said to Puck, signaling to her phone. She and Puck were in the choir room, they were supposed to be rehearsing their ballad. "We decided we're all going to sing to Quinn and Finn a ballad to show them we got their backs." She filled Puck in once she finished her conversation on the phone.

"Are you kidding me? There's no way I'm singing to them." Puck said, pissed off. He groaned. "It's not fair! Finn gets everything. He gets the sympathy. He gets the girl."

"What is your problem?" Mercedes asked, incredulous.

"Finn's not the father! Santana is." He said, defeated.

"What?" Mercedes asked, incredibly confused.

You see, months ago when Santana threw a party at her place, Puck had of course shown up. He was moping around because Quinn wasn't paying attention to him, as usual. But this time, something was different. He noticed how Quinn and Santana were very close that night. Quinn was attached to Santana's side the whole night, and Santana let her. The blonde had been clearly drunk, whispering in Santana's ear a little too loudly most of the time. And when the latina said anything, Quinn would laugh like it was the funniest joke. Santana didn't seem to be bothered because as usual, she was also drunk.

At one point in the night he saw how Santana whispered something in Quinn's ear, and the blonde nodded. The two girls made their way upstairs. Puck, acting like the stalker he had been all night, decided to follow them. Santana led Quinn to what appeared to be her room, and shut the door. They were both clearly drunk, and Puck could hear giggling from the other side of the door. He could hear parts of a hushed conversation.

"I should put on a condom," He could hear Santana say. Condom? Why would she need to wear a condom? Puck was incredibly confused. Maybe chicks also needed to use condoms, he thought. Not that he knew much about that topic, seeing as he never bought any. "Shit, I can't find any." Santana muttered.

"I don't care, I just need you." He heard Quinn slur. The only thing Puck could think of, in his drunken mind, was how hot they would be together. "Just tell me how hot I am," Quinn demanded, voice insecure. After that, the music in the party got so loud he couldn't hear any more of the conversation.

That situation was stuck in his head for many reasons, and after consulting with various of his usual hookups, he found out that women didn't really need to wear condoms to be with other women. So why did Santana have to wear a condom? The situation was clear to him, Santana had a penis. And Finn would have told him if he had lost his V-card. That's something you tell your bro.

When he explained this to Mercedes, she seemed highly incredulous. She thought there could be more explanations, but Puck still thought his was the right one. Then Mercedes thought back. She never saw Santana in the locker rooms after gym showering like the rest of them. And she did remember that time when a ball hit her in the groin during dodgeball, she had a hard time regaining her breath.

"Holy shit," Mercedes gasped

When Santana arrived home the first thing she noticed were the two cars in her driveway. There was no way that both her parents were there at the same time. Santana knew going to see her father had been a bad idea. When she stepped into her house she didn't notice anything weird, except for the voices coming from the living room. When she stepped into the living room her parents immediately shut up, and looked at her.

"Hi?" Santana said.

"Mija," They both said at the same time with a weird chuckle.

"To what do I owe this pleasure of having you home?" Santana asked sarcastically.

"Mija, sit down. We would like to talk to you." Her mother said in a serious tone.

Santana sat down as they asked. She grabbed one of the pillows on the couch and pulled it onto her lap and started playing with the edges of it. Her parents stayed silent, just looking at her.

"What did you want to talk about?" She asked, tired of the silence. They stayed silent. "Okay. Is this about my hand? It's just a cut, there was no need for you to come home for this." Santana said.

"Yes, it is about the hand. And we needed to come home. Santana-" Her father started, but was interrupted by her mother.

"Have you been drinking?" Her mother asked, going straight to the point.

"Maribel," Her father sighed.

"What Carlos? There's no point in beating around the bush," Maribel said, irritated. "Are you drinking alcohol Santana?"

"Yes mom, I drank alcohol. I threw a couple of parties here for my friends, no big deal." Santana said, simply. She may have been underselling the whole situation, but what could she have said? That she threw parties every day for two whole weeks? Or that the whole high school attended them. Or how she got incredibly drunk in every single one of them. That wouldn't have eased her parents.

"I knew it!" Her mother said. "You are an irresponsible child. I knew you had used that money from your bank account for something like this. A thousand dollars Santana?" She started reprimanding. Santana felt like she was being berated by Quinn. Oh shit, Quinn. She would have to tell them about her. Her mother was about to continue but Santana decided to cut in.

"Quinn's pregnant," she said quickly.

"Well congratulations to her. What does this have to do with what we're talking about?" Her mother asked, irritated that her rant was interrupted.

"She's a girl from my high school." Santana explained.

"Oh, well then I'm not sure that's so good. But I still don't see where you're going with it," her mother said, still confused. Her father looked like he was catching on. His eyes had widened comically. Santana would have laughed if this wasn't such a serious situation.

"I know her, she comes in with her tall boyfriend, she's like four months along." Her father muttered, his face pale.

"Yeah, well… You know, it's a very funny situation actually. The baby's mine!" Santana said, making nervous gestures with her hands.

"What?!" Both her parents shouted at the same time.

"Well, it really isn't funny," Santana muttered.

"No, it's not!" Carlos shouted.

"I told you we should have given her the talk again," her mother argued to her father.

"We gave her the talk five times already, I thought she was going to be responsible," Carlos argued back.

"I am responsible. I always use condoms. This was an accident." Santana tried to explain.

"Please explain how this happened," Maribel requested.

"I think you know how it happens," Santana said, but her parents just stared blankly at her. "We were drunk. I looked for a condom, but I couldn't find any, so we didn't use one." She explained, she knew she was digging her own grave.

"You were drunk?" Her mother asked.

"A little," Santana whispered.

"A little?! We didn't raise you like this!" Her mother shouted.

"You didn't raise me at all!" Santana shouted back.

"What the hell are you talking about?" Her father asked, offended at the accusation.

"You basically abandoned me at eleven, what did you think would happen? You bought this big house. You just started working more and more, and you took all those business trips. Then you bought that other house to be closer to work, and you just stopped showing up! You're never home! Do you even remember the last time we had an actual conversation? You don't even know what's going on in my life! You aren't here on holidays, birthdays or any important events in my life, you just throw money at me! You stopped caring!" Santana shouted at them. She could see both her parents were surprised, and her mom had tears in her eyes.

Her mom just cried for a while, her father doing his best to comfort her, he looked shocked. Santana wanted to disappear, she had made her mom cry. She wanted to say she hadn't meant it, but that would be a lie.

"Mami please stop crying," Santana pleaded, she felt like crying too.

"Come here Santana." Maribel said, gesturing for her to sit between them. Santana moved to sit with them. She felt arms wrap around her from both sides. Now both her parents were crying. Hearing them sob that way, Santana couldn't help but join them. They cried together for minutes, all the while her parents muttering their apologies.

Santana was livid. How could Quinn not have called her? She felt useless. Why didn't Quinn lean on her? She was furiously pacing the hallways, looking for Quinn. Her glasses kept falling off the bridge of her nose as she walked. She had her glasses on because she had spent the whole night crying with her parents, and the contact lenses would've hurt. They had a long talk about how they were going to be more present in her life, and about the baby. Though the conversation about the baby wasn't long, seeing as Santana didn't have much to talk about it either. But she opened up to them about how she felt about the whole situation. She told them it was a girl, and showed them the sonogram picture. Her parents cried of joy at it, even if the situation wasn't ideal they would still love their granddaughter. But apparently a few doors down from her house the situation was completely different. Quinn's parents had kicked her out. How did that even happen?

She found the blonde walking with her books in hand, looking miserable. Santana approached her. Quinn smiled for a millisecond before her face turned into a scowl.

"What do you want?" Quinn asked tersely.

"I just wanted to talk to you," Santana said gently, taking Quinn's books from her hands. Quinn looked offended for a second, but let it go. "In private." Quinn nodded at her.

They entered the choir room and sat down on some chairs. Santana put the books down.

"How are you?" Santana asked. She decided that was a good start.

"Awful. What type of question is that?" Quinn asked, irritated.

"I'm sorry. Why didn't you call? I could've been there for you," Santana said.

"I had Finn, I didn't need you," Quinn said simply. She hadn't meant it to be hurtful, but it still hurt Santana.

"Right, why would you need me when you have Finn by your side?" She spat out bitterly.

"I didn't mean it like that. Don't make this about you," Quinn said, angry.

"I'm not! It's just that you keep choosing Finn over me, I'm the baby's mom," Santana said with a frown. Okay, so maybe she was making this about herself. Quinn raised her signature eyebrow. "Sorry, I am making this about me." Santana realized, ashamed. "What happened?" She asked, concerned.

"Finn happened," Quinn spat bitterly. Santana frowned. "He sang a stupid ballad that couldn't more clearly state that I'm pregnant. So my father kicked me out, and my mom did nothing about it." Quinn continued, tears in her eyes. "He gave me thirty minutes to pack."

"Shit," was the only thing that Santana could mutter. "Where are you staying?"

"At Finn's. He gave me his bed," Quinn explained.

"Oh. You know you can stay at my house if you want to." Santana said. Quinn looked up at her. "You'd have a room of your own. And I swear, no more parties. I'd have to talk to my parents of course, but I'd love to have you there. And my parents are apparently going to be around now," she trailed off. "We'll figure that out later. If you want we can start with just dinner at my house, with my parents? They already know. I don't think they're that mad anymore," Santana continued. Quinn felt jealousy grow in her chest at hearing Santana talk about her parents being accepting. She also felt grateful for the offer, but jealousy was taking over. Santana noticed the bitter look on her face and decided to shut up. She accommodated her glasses nervously.

"What's up with the glasses?" Quinn asked, trying to change the subject.

"Oh, um, my eyes were kind of irritated this morning so I couldn't wear my lenses," Santana explained.

"You have to wear glasses?" How come she didn't know that? There was so much Quinn didn't know about Santana.

"Yeah, didn't you know? I'm kind of blind without them," Santana joked. Quinn made a face, looking like she was deciding whether to believe her. The blonde took the glasses off Santana's face to confirm. Santana squinted her eyes dramatically. "Woah, who are you?" She playfully brought her hands to Quinn's face as if trying to figure who it was. Quinn giggled at her dorkness, and just smiled at her. "Okay, seriously, you're super blurry right now."

Quinn laughed again before putting Santana's glasses back on her face. The glasses were tilted to the side, but Santana didn't reach to adjust them. They stayed looking at each other for a while, leaning closer without knowing it. They got so close, their lips were brushing together. Santana decided to close the gap and join their lips, but Quinn decided to pull back at the same time.

"I'm not gay," Quinn said, rushed. Santana's eyebrows shot up.

"Oh," she said, her eyebrows now furrowed. "Shit, I'm sorry, I-I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable or anything." She suddenly stood up, her glasses falling off. "Shit, fuck." she kept cursing under her breath, clearly nervous. "I'm so sorry," she said, quickly picking her glasses up and sprinting out the door.

Quinn was left alone in the room with her cheeks red, thinking about why she had said that, when suddenly Santana walked back into the room.

"Do you still want to have dinner at my house? Only if you want of course," Santana talked fast, her gaze on the floor.

"Sure," was all Quinn said.

"Cool, at 6?" Santana asked, her eyes still on the floor.

"Sure, I'll be there."

"Cool, cool." Santana said finally, and walked out of the room again.

Dinner at Santana's house had been great. Santana had talked to her parents beforehand and asked them not to broach the baby situation if Quinn didn't first. They had understood that, and kept on light topics the whole night. Santana wanted to make Quinn feel comfortable. She still couldn't meet her eyes though, not after how she had embarrassed herself. Quinn had been scared at first, not wanting this dinner to go like her last one with her parents, but relaxed after seeing how nice the Lopez's were.

After dinner, Quinn and Santana found themselves going upstairs to the latina's room. Quinn thought the room fitted her. It had black walls that were covered in posters and pictures. On her nightstand she found that the ultrasound picture Quinn had given her was now in a frame. Quinn smiled at it, Santana cared. They both sat down on the bed, avoiding each other's faces.

"I'm sorry about today," Santana suddenly said. Quinn looked up at her, but Santana was still avoiding her eyes. "I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable. I just thought," she trailed off.

"It's fine. Really. You didn't do anything wrong. I actually don't know why I said that," Quinn confessed. "I do like you, I'm just confused about everything," Quinn continued. Santana finally looked her in the eyes. "You're so nice, and sweet, but everything that's been going on, I'm just so confused." Tears started to form in her eyes.

"That's fine, it's okay to be confused. Especially in our situation." Santana said, trying to offer some understanding. She was confused too. "I'm confused too."

"Really?" Quinn asked, looking in Santana's eyes.

"Yeah."

Quinn found what she had been looking for, understanding. She hadn't found that with her parents or Finn, but she had with Santana. She leaned in and pecked her on the lips. Santana smiled at her. Quinn then remembered why she had actually come here, guilt forming in the pit of her stomach. "I'm not keeping the baby," she whispered.

"What?" Santana asked.

"I'm giving her up," Quinn continued.

"Wow, shit, I wasn't expecting that." Santana muttered, her gaze to the floor again. "When did you decide this?" She asked, looking back up at her. She wasn't mad, just confused.

"Terri Schuester showed up at my car the same day I told you. She gave vitamins and stuff, she offered to adopt her." Quinn explained.

"Mr. Schue's wife? I thought she was pregnant already, why would she want another baby?" Santana asked.

"She's not,"

Quinn proceeded to explain to Santana the whole situation, and Santana proceeded to freak out because a crazy woman wanted her baby.

"Okay, first, thank you for finally letting me in about all of this stuff. Second, this woman is crazy, she's faking a pregnancy! If you really want to give up the baby, I'll understand. But this isn't the way. This lie is unsustainable. He will eventually find out. Quinn, this is a grown woman lying to a man about a baby. It's not right. Don't you want to stop lying? If you want to give up the baby we can find her a family. A good family." Santana talked hurriedly, then settled down. "I thought you wanted to keep her." Santana whispered, broken.

"I did, I do. But we're kids, there's no way we can take care of her." Quinn explained with tears in her eyes.

They spent the rest of the night crying together for their baby. Quinn was lying back on the bed, Santana resting her head on the small baby bump that was barely showing. The blonde was playing with Santana's hair while the latina talked to the baby and held Quinn tightly, not wanting to let go.