Title: Above The Moon
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 13.6k
Summary: She really is here. Brittany is here, and you think over the past 10 years without her, trying to figure out how destiny didn't bring you back together sooner, but you guess it just wasn't the right time.
Notes: Thank you for all your reviews! Thought you guys might like this!
/
You don't think you've moved since Brittany's announcement.
It's been a solid five minutes of you just staring at her, your hand clutched between hers with the grip getting tighter with each passing minute and your mouth wide open, ready to catch flies because you can't believe what you've just heard. Whereas your heart was beating so fast you almost couldn't hear her, you're now alarmingly aware of every sound in the room around you, including the heavy panting you're apparently making and the fact she's swallowing repeatedly, trying to find the right thing to say, but there isn't one.
Luckily, your brain decides to kick in as your body is frozen still, and you find yourself asking a short question through a strained voice. You need to make sure you actually heard her right.
"W-what did you say?"
Brittany shifts, sucking her lips into her mouth and finally breathing, joining in with the rapid tempo of yours as she stares at your joined hands, thumbs still stroking over the back of yours in a way that you think is supposed to be comforting, but nothing could comfort you right now. "I-I…" She stutters, clearing her throat which makes you flinch as it's the loudest thing that's occurred since she revealed something life changing. "I'm pregnant," she finally whispers, repeating the words.
And yup, you heard right.
"Pregnant?" You blurt out, the word breathless as it leaves your lips and you shake your head, your mind reeling back to the several times you slept together, but one question comes to mind, and you instantly hate yourself for thinking it, but it doesn't escape just yet. "What? How? Who?"
Tears form in blue eyes, and you can't stop yourself from dragging the hand away from your glass to swipe them away as they fall. It's just instinct, and Brittany leans into the touch until you're cupping her cheek and trapping your hand against her face and shoulder, her eyes slowly closing as if to confirm your unspoken question without verbalising it, but you're still going to have to ask it outright, just to make sure.
You don't want to come across as a jackass or insinuate that she sleeps around even though she basically admitted it, but you don't know what the fuck to think. You don't feel like you're really here. You feel like your soul ascended out of your body and you're watching the interaction from the sidelines and half of you wants to run out the door and the other half wants to steal a bottle of tequila and down the damn thing, ensuring that this is real life and you're not in some fucked up dream.
Because she can't be pregnant.
No. Scratch that.
You can't have got her pregnant. You used a condom.
You only remember that because you wished all three times that you hadn't, seeing as that's how you started your sexual journey together, but you know more now. Both of you have slept with other people and might still be – even though you've been entirely satisfied by her in the past six weeks, so you've had no need – and that's another reason why you feel like you need to ask if it's yours.
She mentioned going on a date with that guy that one time, and you didn't ask if they slept together even though you're sure she would've told you and the reasonable side of you knows that even if they did, that was literally like two weeks ago and human biology isn't your strong point, but you know enough to know she wouldn't know by now. It's still a possibility though, and in a better mindset, you'd start linking everything together and throw a thousand questions at her, like why Quinn knew before you did, or to ask Brittany if that's why she was so damn weird at the wedding a week ago.
But you're not in a better mindset. That news has rendered you almost speechless and you're still just staring at her, mouth wide open and drying by the second and that glass of liquor is looking tempting, but you need answers more than you need that.
"Is it…"
Brittany's head snaps up, and she holds your eye for a long moment before slowly nodding. "Yeah," she confirms through a breath and the single word shoots through you, making your entire body instantly go numb. Without knowing you've done it, you lean back into your seat, arms falling on to your lap and away from her grasp and blue eyes dart down to the movement, Brittany wincing at the loss of contact but you can't even process that or begin thinking of explaining how you're not leaning away from her, but from the news.
You got her pregnant.
"I've only been with you recently," she quietly adds on, and later, you'll think about that and what that means, but right now you just bob your head like this isn't an entirely life-changing conversation. You bob your head as it's the only thing you can do, because the heaviness of this specific topic far outweighs the streak of excitement you should probably get from hearing that, but you still don't understand.
"B-but…" You try, swallowing several times but you have zero saliva, and you could take a sip of your drink, but you can't fucking move. You're barely fucking breathing and your heart has picked its pace back up, thumping loudly against your ribcage. "But we u-used…"
Brittany gets it, eyes flitting away, not being able to hold the gaze anymore and you don't know what that means but again, you don't like it. "Condoms only have like a 97% success rate, apparently," she stutters out, and it sounds rehearsed like she's been where you are, completely confused and shocked that normal contraception has failed the both of you but you're guessing that she's already answered all the questions going through your head.
Except there's one that stands out more so than the rest now, and you force yourself to shake out of the daze you're in, taking calming breaths until you can hear the low hum of the music playing overhead. You've got to get your head on right, switch on your brain and get into a more understanding mindset because now you're beginning to consider that Brittany's been holding this information since at least the wedding, and it explains the whole Quinn thing now, but you no longer care about that.
All you care about is her, and what she's going to do.
"Wha-wha…" You try to string a sentence together, but the cat has got your tongue. You force a cough, trying to find your voice but that's gone alongside your head. "What are you g-gonna do?"
It seems like such a simple question, but it's not. In that one little question holds your entire future and will change your life regardless of the answer. You've had friends who have been through this, lucky enough that it's never happened to you before even though the statistics heavily weigh against you – at a 97% success rate, you should have impregnated at least like 3 women – but you don't think you've ever been handed that card.
You've always been careful, either checking that the girl was on contraception or using a condom if not, but apparently even doing that has failed you this time because you've gone and knocked someone up.
No. Not just someone.
Brittany.
At the thought of her name, your eyes snap up, your breath hot and heavy as it leaves your mouth, and you find her already staring back at you. Her brow is creased, face twisted up like she doesn't know how to reply to your question, but you can see it in her eyes that she does. That decision has already been made and you're pro-choice, but you know this isn't just supporting that movement; it's literally being in it, and you don't know how to feel about that.
You never expected to be in this situation.
"I-I…" She gets out brokenly, tongue poking out to wet her lips but shaking her head quickly, raising her glass of water and taking a long slurp like she's parched. She always used to get a dry mouth when she was nervous, and you feel that right now. You also now understand why it's water and not something harder like alcohol, and why she didn't drink the wine she stole off you last week at your place, but you think you're going to need something stronger than this beer sat in front of you to hear the rest of the answer.
"You don't have to be involved," Brittany blurts out, gulping loudly and not because she just drank, and you hear the other admittance in her words. She's going to keep the baby. "I-I just thought you s-should know," she continues, voice cracking and her blue eyes well up as they stare into your brown ones. She's trying not to cry and you're feeling that, too, but all you can do is stare. You feel numb. "I wanted you to know," she adds, tone stronger this time as she sets her glass down and reaches half-way across the table, not touching her fingertips to yours but leaving a minimal space between them anyway. You still feel the electricity though. "I thought about every possibility and I-I just…"
Brittany shakes her head, unable to complete the sentence and the tears slip from her eyes, the lids slamming shut the second it happens. Usually, you'd lean across and swipe them away like you did just before she told you, but you can't make yourself move. You're desperately trying to process the information you've just heard like how she's already gone through this and thought about the other side but you're nowhere near close to that.
You're still completely shocked that you've even done it, and somewhere in the back of your mind mentally writing down a sharp email to send to the condom corporations to tell them their product is dogshit.
"I-I just had to tell you," she finally settles on, finishing her sentence and inhaling deeply, her quaking chest shaking as she does so and you swallow, lips so dry that if you could move, you'd probably ask to down the rest of her water, but you can't speak. It's a freaking first as you normally can't stop talking and use delicately put together sentences to either insult or confuse people, but you just can't.
You got her pregnant. There's going to be a baby in the world with half your DNA, and half of Brittany's, and whereas that used to be a pipedream when you were a teenager, it isn't something you've ever considered as an adult.
This is happening.
"I just can't get rid of…" Brittany's eyes drop down to her flat stomach, and if you weren't completely numb, you'd register the spiral of excitement that surges through you as you think about her growing a life, but you just never thought it was going to come true. "Of it."
For some reason, the last word kicks you into action. You don't like it instantly, calling either him or her an it and you don't know why it does it, but apparently it makes words pop back into your mind in the form of a question. Your mind spirals with thoughts of hospital appointments, meeting a midwife or whoever, going for scans and stores to buy a whole load of crap for the life that's coming into your life, but it just leaves you thinking about which colour to pick, when you'd find out what gender the little one might be, and it fucking terrifies you.
But in a way you weren't expecting.
"Are you sure you're pre-" You choke on the last word, heat flooding to your cheeks. "Are you sure?"
Brittany sucks in her lips, jaw clenching and you know she wouldn't have told you if she wasn't 100% sure on it. "Yeah," she tells you, the word quick out her mouth and then she's back to clamping her teeth together like she's biting her tongue or stopping herself from crying. "Do you remember when I went to the doctors?" She asks sheepishly, eyes flitting up to you, then down to the table, then around but you can't notice anything but her, despite the bar now filling up with people. The sound has also been drowned out, just the sound of your thumping heart in your ears and that's just making everything else disappear.
Still, you nod, thinking of the day you went for a walk, and she got a phone call and had to go abruptly. "I do," you whisper.
"I didn't know then," she quickly clears up and it makes you feel better. She didn't hide it from you for long, you guess. "But I didn't feel right, and my tummy felt weird, but I thought it was because I was eating normal food instead of kale and no longer drinking green juice all the time to stay in shape," she explains, and you remember her harsh Cheerio diet that Coach Sue put her on in high school. "But my doctor took my blood and did some tests and said there was an abnormality," she pauses to shrug, and guilt passes over her face, but you don't want her to feel guilty. It's not like she did it on purpose as you took precautions both times.
"I got impatient of not knowing after she said pregnancy could be a possibility and at the wedding I told Quinn and Kitty and…" Your mind flicks back to the conversation with her friend and it all drops into place, making complete sense. That's why Quinn was being so protective. "They made me a take a test then and there," she shrugs again, but her bottom lip begins trembling as the tears continue to fall from her eyes and she rubs her nose with the back of her hand when a droplet teeters on the end. "I have another test at home and my doctor said he'll call me tomorrow, but I'm pretty certain," she utters.
That's why she wanted to see you. That's why she's been so vacant over the past week, and you inhale sharply through your nose, straightening up your back and feeling slightly better than before as she was avoiding you, but not for the reasons you were previously considering. You haven't done anything to hurt her feelings, although you're not sure this is much of an improvement from that.
Not that you're feeling bad about it. Somewhere inside of you, you can feel a burst of happiness just waiting to spring free as shit, at least you got Brittany pregnant, and not a one-night stand that you have zero connection, relationship, or history with. It could be worse, but you also don't want to start smiling or something as this is not a normal situation for friends, especially not friends who were once the love of your life, and you genuinely thought you were coming here for a drink and a catch up of your week apart, not to be told that you're potentially going to become a parent.
So it's fair to say you're not really sure what to do or say.
"D-do you want… want to do another one?" You manage to ask, not knowing what else to ask as she's just told you that if she is in fact pregnant, she's keeping it. "To make sure?"
Brittany's face twists, her head cocking to the side and you can see the fear in her eyes, but it's not like the fear you saw before. It's an uncertain fear, like she doesn't know what she's scared of, but she's scared and you're right there with her. The room isn't spinning as much anymore, nor is your heart beating rapidly either or maybe you've gone up another level on the numb scale so you're unaware of everything else but her, but it's only then that you realise you haven't told her it's okay with you.
You haven't reassured her that you're going to be there regardless because of course you are, you never even considered different, and you feel so damn stupid that you gasp, squeezing your eyes shut and internally cursing yourself. You take a second, sorting through the flurry inside your mind to get to the soft spot you've always felt for her, and you relax your shoulders with force, leaning back forward to take both of her hands again and sucking your lips into your mouth as you stare at her seriously.
"I'm okay with it, either way," you say, not sure if it's the right thing to say.
Apparently it is though, because for the first time since you sat down, you see a little calm flood through her. You see the blue in her eyes soften, and her body stop tensing as much, and you continue swearing at yourself silently because you're such an ass. All this time you were up in your head, admittedly for good reason, but you couldn't get your head out of your ass to realise that as scary as it is for you, it's far more terrifying for her and you've got a history so of course you'll be there, regardless of the outcome.
If you have to, you'll go to every appointment and pay all the medical bills. If you have to, you'll hold her hair back when she throws up due to morning sickness. If you have to, you'll be by her side every step of the way from the first check up to the delivery room, as long as she lets you. That'd be the only thing to stop you otherwise, and you know somewhere deep inside you don't have to consider that she might reject that support because she won't.
She knows you better than that, but you still need to tell her. You still need the words out there, so she knows for sure.
"Let's just do another test to make sure and we'll go from there, okay?" You whisper, keeping your voice low even though there's no-one around you still. "But whatever it is, I'm here, Britt," you say, and your body begins moving before your head tells it to, sliding out from the table and into the chair beside Brittany, tugging her into a hug where she rests her head against your shoulder. The tears she was poorly holding back flow freely, and you let your own as you begin a soothing rocking motion.
Whatever happens, you two will be fine.
You have to be now.
/
Turns out that Quinn and Kitty had the forethought to buy a few more pregnancy tests.
You know that you two could wait until tomorrow and get the doctor to confirm it, but now you're aware of the strong possibility, you have to know now. This is one of the biggest things that will ever happen to both of you, and you walk back to Brittany's apartment slowly, hand in hand, your legs dragging behind you and the journey is silent. Blue eyes keep sliding to you every now and then, like Brittany's scared you're going to run away but you're not going to.
You're not a deadbeat parent who drops the other one the second you're aware of another potential existence that'll tie you together for life. You haven't had the opportunity to put much thought into it as you're talking, moving, and doing everything you couldn't do back in the bar, but you still don't feel like it's real. You feel like your soul is floating over your body, watching from a birds eye view as you walk in through Brittany's building, up the elevator and into her place, heading straight for the bedroom in a way you didn't do before when you were here.
She heads into the ensuite, sparing you a weak smile with watery blue eyes and the sound of the door clicking shut is like a shotgun going off right by your ear. You perch on the edge of the bed, clasping your hands together and you two haven't spoken since you got off the sidewalk, but you know why she went in there. You left the bar on the note that she'd take one more test, with you there, just to confirm and you think you already know the answer, but you have to see it.
You hope that a little white stick in front of your eyes, with the line confirming what you suspect, is going to kick start your body and maybe make you grow up quicker. Stranger things have happened in the world and it's not like you're childish, but you could do with a kick up the ass and find some responsibility. With all of this happening, you're starting to realise that the life you lead isn't one you should bring a child into, so you're going to need to change and stop finding nameless blondes to take home on a Friday night after going to the same damn bar with your friends.
You don't know what it means for your job, but you guess you'll be able to talk it out with Rachel as she'll have to be understanding – you won't give her another option – and it's not like she can live without you as she owes you her damn career so getting fired isn't an option. Plus, she's your friend and you're suddenly faced with the realisation that this won't be something you can keep secret. Not that you've been able to keep much secret with your friends as they're fucking nosey and know that you and Brittany have slept together once, but this is going to knock them off their feet.
It did with you, so it will with them, but you're hoping they'll be supportive. You're going to be for Brittany – there was never any other option – and so you're going to have to trust that they'll do the same.
The sound of the bathroom door opening makes your head snap up so fast it almost comes off your neck, and you squint at the light – apparently you've been sat on the edge of the bed in the dark for the entire time Brittany was in there – and then she's appearing, clutching something in front of her chest. Her hands are shaking, you can see it from here, and you find yourself climbing to your feet to meet her halfway as she comes towards you, holding your own hands in a similar position in front of you as you watch her reactions, your heart pounding inside your chest.
This is it.
And everything goes in slow motion as blue eyes drag up to you, and Brittany begins nodding her head without speaking as she holds her hand wrapped around the white stick as you can now see, out to you. You don't take it though, just reach for her hand instead and pull her towards you into a hug, throwing your arms around her neck as she begins sobbing heavily into your shoulder.
You can't help but do the same, tears falling from your eyes on to the fabric of her shirt and you just turn your head to press your nose into blonde hair, inhaling deeply as you whisper the only thing you can think of.
"I'm here, Britt… I'm here."
/
About five minutes later, and a long ass hug, you tug Brittany over to the bed and sit back down on it.
Your hands are clutched between you, holding strong and the blonde has stopped shaking but you can feel the fear radiating off her. It's probably matching your own, as back when you were teenagers whenever you felt calm, she did and vice versa, so that's probably the explanation but you don't know how to chill.
Nothing about this situation is chill.
It's literally life changing, like nothing is ever going to be the same, but you know you have to take the lead and speak first because all you've been doing is staring at each other since you sat down, not even verbalising the confirmation when she came out the bathroom.
"I can't believe this is happening," you say, voice strained, and you try to force a playful tone but by the way Brittany looks at you, you don't think it comes out that way.
"I don't want you to feel like you have to be a part of this just because we have history," she gets out, the words cracking as they leave her mouth, but you shake your head instantly. That wasn't what you meant.
"No, that's not it," you choke out, swallowing thickly and dropping your gaze to your hands, grasping on to each other like they're your only lifelines. You really haven't considered any other option than staying by her side and supporting her like any decent human would in this position. "I wasn't lying, Brittany," you follow up, and the use of her full name tells her you're deadly serious. You only used to say it when you were arguing, or in the middle of sex, and neither of those apply to this situation so it must be the third option, when you're being super serious. "I'm here… I'm here and I'll support you… Whatever you and–" You choke on the word that bubbles up your throat. "Whatever you need," you settle on.
Tears flow from blue eyes, a loud sob escaping Brittany's lips and you lean forward at the same time she does, your foreheads tipping together as you breathe into her. It's not an arousing move, or one that you've done before bar a split second before kissing her, or the other side of ten years ago when you were saying goodbye on the freaking sidewalk after telling her you loved her before she left, but it feels significant for some reason.
Blue eyes snap open, the redness surrounding them, and you release one of her hands to bring it to her face, cupping her cheek and stroking away the wetness on her skin, and in this moment, looking into her eyes, you know that you're going to make a promise you'll never break. You're going to be whatever she needs, wherever she needs, even if it means going out at 2am to get her spicy pickles or whatever strange craving she might have during the pregnancy, and you want nothing more than to say it, but you just can't.
You just hope she can see it.
"Y-you don't ha-have to say that," Brittany splutters out, and you can hear the fear in her voice still as she sniffles loudly, trying to regain some strength in her tone. "K-Kitty and Quinn told me they'd be there, and I-I've got savings from the tour and stuff… I just…" She hiccups a breath, and for the first time since you sat down at the bar almost an hour ago now, your lips twitch up into a soft smile. There's the Brittany you know. "I can't get rid of…" She stops mid-sentence, taking her free hand to press it palm down on her stomach. "T-that's a person to me," her shoulders shake as she speaks but you're right there, still trying to reassure her with your eyes and the stroke of your thumb on her cheek. "I-I can't get rid of them."
Having never been in this situation before, you're finding everything she's saying setting off fireworks inside you and it's not a reaction you should probably be happening, but the shock is fading. You don't feel like you're not ready for this, even though you totally aren't, because you can see the brighter side of things like at least it was Brittany, and at least you're well off financially so that's not an issue. You have a kick ass insurance policy too for this kind of thing – having your situation and all – and even without, you'd be okay.
But you can't show that because Brittany's staring at you like she's waiting for you to bolt and take back everything you've said, and you don't know how to convince her otherwise. You've never felt surer than anything right now, even if you're starting to think about everything that comes with it.
Like how you're going to tell your mom. Or her mom for that matter. How are you going to tell your friends? Where will you live when the baby comes, and should you sell your place and move closer to Brittany in Brentwood?
There's so much to think about, so you push aside the way your skin is buzzing and how there's a low hum in your ears from relief and happiness and focus on the right now. Brittany needs you.
"I get that," you finally reply, through a barely there voice and Brittany sucks in a shaky gasp, but it shouldn't shock her that you still hold the beliefs you did when you were younger. After that girl in your school year had the baby late in the semester, you two spoke about what would happen if contraception failed you, and you said that you were pro-choice. It was a stance you chose to hold from early on, as your mom raised you right and you'd never want a woman to feel like she didn't own her own body, and you still believe in it now.
But you can't bring yourself to say much more, as you're not feeling shocked anymore, but number and you guess it comes across as a bad thing because Brittany talks again, still looking entirely scared and still crying.
"You don't have to be a part of this," she whispers, but your head snaps up to her when you manage to register the words.
"No," you defend immediately, tone much harder this time to the point where Brittany jolts, but you soothe her with a stroke of your thumb across the back of her head, eyes finding hers. "I want to be, I will be," you entreat and her chest stutters as she releases another breath. "It's just a lot to process," you follow up because it's the truth. You're back to being indecisive about how you feel and you're not really understanding this whole thing, let alone attempting to process the fact that less than nine months from now, there's going to be a little you in the world. "But I'm good, I'm here… I promise."
Brittany's lips press together, then suck into her mouth and she inhales deeply, squaring her shoulders and shaking her head and you see her walls shoot up. She's trying to get out of being vulnerable, and you want to stop her as you're doing your best to confirm you'll be there with her, but you don't think she's buying it. You don't think she believes you and that fucking sucks, but the words to explain that just won't come out and you begin to think that you might need to think about everything, even if you're sure of your final decision.
And that's what she suggests, like she's inside your head.
"I think you need to go and think about this, San," Brittany sighs, her hands moving to grasp the back of yours and squeezing. "The girls are coming over soon and like you said, it's a lot to process," she repeats what you said with a tilt of her head but you just frown. You didn't mean that badly. "It's okay," she bobs her head, and you see a softness in the smile she gives you, like she's remembering how to handle you and not in a way that makes you feel babied. "Maybe talk to Kurt or Mercedes," her hands squeeze yours again. "But take as much time as you need."
You don't want time, but you know you should take it. Nothing good ever comes out of knee jerk reactions and this is an entirely life altering moment. Having Brittany back in your life has been overwhelming but in the best way possible, and as much as you were saying you wanted her back in your life, you just weren't expecting it to be in this capacity. It's not striking you negatively, and you're sure your gut is telling you that this is a good thing for a plethora of reasons that includes bettering yourself and being lucky enough to knock up someone you know to stop being so irresponsible and grow the fuck up finally, but you need to know for definite.
"Okay," you agree through a single breath and it's so quiet you're not sure if you said it.
Brittany's lips twitch though, and she rises to her feet, still grasping your hand as she leads you out of her bedroom and through her apartment as she gets to the front door. She stops there, not immediately opening it but turning to face you and reaching for your free hand, swinging them between you for a long moment as her eyes go over you. She's the most beautiful thing you've ever seen, so you get lost in her eyes for a long moment and it takes physically twitching to break yourself out of it as you begin to think about a baby boy or girl with ocean blue eyes and your complexion.
That might be the best thing you could have ever imagined.
"Call me tomorrow though," Brittany breaks the silence, and her voice is low, fingers stroking over the back of yours like she's hesitant with her words. "If you want to."
But you get why she is. "Definitely," you get out, chest still slightly restricted and Brittany, pleased and breathless by your answers, leans over, pressing a kiss to the high of your cheek as one hand drops yours and reaches for the door, peeling it open so the hallway light beams into her dark apartment. "Talk to you tomorrow, Britt," you force out as she pulls back, moving so slowly that you have to bite down on your tongue not to follow her and kiss her as that's so not appropriate, and flash a quick smile before darting out and towards the elevator.
/
The day Brittany left hit you like a ten tonne truck.
It had been coming for a month, but you did what you always did and ignored the situation until you had no choice but to face it. Brittany's dad was being relocated for work, her mom not wanting to live in different homes, let alone states, and break up the family said they'd all go with, and Brittany was only 16, so were you, so it wasn't like she could argue. Your relationship was strong, and it was everything that fairytales were based on, and it broke your heart to think of saying goodbye to her, but it had to be that way..
Brittany's mom, Whitney, let you stay over the night before with the door closed. You helped her pack for an hour or two, then spent the rest of the night wrapped up in each other, both beneath the sheets and on top of them, occasionally watching some stupid reality show during a breather. You soaked up every piece of her you could, in every way possible, until the early hours of the morning when you fell asleep in her arms, thoughts of what was to come vanishing out both of your brains temporarily.
But when you woke… It all became very real.
Brittany was already up, and you got dressed and headed down to find the moving van pulling up on the sidewalk and half the boxes stored outside now. Whitney and Brittany's dad, James – which is where her little sisters name came from, too but with a feminine twist – were stood outside and you squinted against the sunlight as you left through the front door and watched as several large men in overalls piled out the truck and began moving the boxes without order.
You heard a laughter come from behind, and span around to find Jaime and Brittany bouncing out, hand in hand, but the second blue eyes met yours, then flitted over your shoulder to register the truck that was sat staring mockingly at the both of you, the happiness drained out of the taller blonde. She sucked in her bottom lip, gulping visibly and Jaime was too young to sense the shift in atmosphere and dropped her big sisters hand, skipping off to the moving guys to ask if she could help.
Normally, you would giggle at it and call her cute, but you were way too distracted with facing the issue you'd been desperately avoiding. An issue that apparently, Brittany had been avoiding too as you spent as much time last night awake and talking, or not talking a lot, and not bringing up the elephant in the room. The elephant that was getting in a stupid truck and moving to another freaking state, hours, and hours away from you and putting a large gap in your relationship.
A relationship that was so strong because you spent every available moment with each other. You were obsessed with each other, and you knew it was coming to an end.
But you two had spoken about it.
Over a month ago, there had been just the one conversation about what it meant for you two, and you'd come to the amicable suggestion that you would break up. Neither of you wanted it, and you sat on Brittany's bed, clutching at each other like life rafts, sobbing your hearts out but knowing that long distance relationships just didn't work. You wanted to make them work, but you were aware that shit got weird when there was so much distance and you two were best friends, as well as girlfriends, and that was something that could never be lost.
It wasn't like you were going to date anyone else anytime soon, and not spend every waking second talking to her as much you could, but you knew if you downgraded the relationship, you wouldn't destroy everything you had together.
It was a grown up decision. Too grown up for two 16 year old girls to make, but neither of you were naïve. You'd spoken to your mom about it, Brittany had spoken to her mom about it, and they admired the both of you for having such an adult mindset towards the relationship as you could've kicked and screamed and threatened to run away together if you were torn apart like other teenagers would do, but that never worked out well for either parties.
There was enough of that bullshit in the movies and crap to learn it never worked out, and like you said, you could salvage your best friendship instead of ruining it over breaking up when one of you got weird or shut down on the other.
If you had to lose Brittany, you had to hang on to something, and she'd said the same thing.
Plus technology existed, so you could keep in touch as much as you wanted, and you promised each other you would.
But standing on that sidewalk, staring at the best thing that ever happened to you, made you second guess everything you promised as it wasn't good enough. Because grabbing her and getting in your dad's mustang and disappearing to another town with new names and fake ID's seemed like the only thing you wanted to do in that moment, as it meant you wouldn't have to lose her. She was just staring at you, hands fiddling nervously in front of her as she slowly began moving forward once more, and you found your feet doing the same thing until you were right in front of each other, hands reaching for hands and thumbs stroking over thumbs, your chest releasing at the simple touch.
You didn't know how you'd go a single day without it anymore.
"Hey," you breathed, trying not to let the 'I miss you' slip from your mouth, even though you felt like you did already regardless of her literally being in front of you. You squinted and tried a smile, but it made your lip quiver and instantly reject the movement to which Brittany sucked her lips in at.
"Hey."
You cocked your head to the side, not wanting her to see that you weren't okay, but you couldn't lie. You'd never been one for showing emotion, but it was impossible to contain it when it came to Brittany. Everything about her just made you bloom like a flower and if she was the sun, then it would soon be night time until you saw her again and you just knew you were going to curl back up and never be able to open up as easily. Which just made everything so much damn harder as half the time when you found it hard to speak, she'd know what you were saying just by looking at you.
But how could she do that thousands of miles away? It's hard to read tone over technology or through text and you knew that already, but just hoped that it would work somehow.
"You kids wanna help move some boxes?" Came a loud voice, making you jolt, and you put a little distance between you and Brittany, twisting to her side to link your pinkies together. She clutched back immediately, her other hand shooting across her to grasp at your forearm, almost like she was anchoring you to your spot, so you didn't leave. But you weren't the one that was going to, so you chose to clear your throat, swallow the lump lodged inside and beam a smile that didn't reach your eyes towards Brittany's dad who was grinning back at you, unaware of the lingering tension.
"Sure thing, Jay," you croaked, and luckily you were far enough away from him that he wouldn't have heard the way your voice broke too, but Brittany did.
Still, you couldn't look at her when you felt blue eyes on you, as there was minimal restraint inside of you already, allowing her to actually leave and move to a different state, and if you did look at her then, when she was seeing straight through the bullshit façade you were putting on, you'd crack. You'd just break and cry and beg her to stay; all the things you hadn't done because you knew ultimately, it wouldn't change anything… But you did have one other thing you were keeping locked inside and that was three little words that somehow, over the course of the year, you hadn't found the strength to say.
And you didn't want it to be the last thing you said to her, nor the first thing whilst there was still a whole day ahead of you to move boxes and clear out the house completely, so you knew you had to push past it and welcomed the distraction given by James Pierce.
So that's what you did.
/
You stare at your phone for way too long, trying to decide who would be the lesser of three evils to call for advice.
Your fingers move before your mind can decide, and you're shooting a quick text to the only person you know has been kind of with you on this strange journey with Brittany, and seeing as apparently Mercedes has known the girl for years now, you know that she can offer some advice on Brittany's side, too. She tells you she's still got company as you two spoke earlier, but you tell her it's an emergency and within a few minutes, she's telling you she's climbing into a cab and that she'll meet you at the bar in fifteen.
Considering it's a warm night, and you're way too numb still to even think about anything other than putting one foot in front of the other, you walk to the bar and arrive as a cab peels away from the curb. The doors are closing as you head up to them, and you catch it on the backswing, breezing inside and immediately spotting Mercedes up by the bar, still in her coat but taking it off as she talks to the bartender. You don't go over there, instead choosing to head on over to your usual booth and you feel her eyes on you as you get there, hear your name being called but you really need to sit down.
A couple seconds later, she's appearing beside you, sliding your usual in front of you whilst she gets into the other side of the booth and you would look at her, but all you can do is stare at the double doors you just walked through, remembering how Brittany walked through them over a month ago. Little did you know that your entire life would change at something so simple, and you've gone from being okay and processing the newly found information to being in an utter state of shock, like the news hit you all over again the second you left Brittany's apartment.
"Santana?" Mercedes calls, but the way she says it makes you think she's already said it multiple times and you finally look at her, seeing deep concern and wide eyes.
You don't know where to start, and before you can even think of explaining that you slept with Brittany multiple times which led to this situation, the words are leaving your mouth and you're going for broke. "Brittany's pregnant."
Mercedes mouth drops open, her eyes going even wider before and you can imagine it's a lot how you looked when Brittany told you, but this time it's more intense. This time, you get to see the sheer shock slap your friend in the face, her body slump backwards into the booth and hands falling into her lap for the few seconds following your words, and you've seen this bitch run her mouth at every piece of information – being a gossip queen at all – so it's strange to see her have such a little reaction.
You know how big of a fucking deal this is, and she's silent? Maybe Kurt would've been a better choice of person to go to.
"Oh my God…" Mercedes breathes, voice airy like she almost doesn't say it and you can feel the delayed reaction kicking in. You start seeing it too, as she leans forward, elbows pressed to the booth table and gets into serious mode, brows furrowed deeply now as she lowers her head. "Who's is it?"
Well that explains why she was so quiet initially, as you now realise she's not immediately assuming it's yours, so you might as well tell her the truth and you lift a shoulder, lips sucked into your mouth with guilt and Mercedes gasps, the lightbulb flicking on above her head.
"It's yours?" She screeches, her voice high enough that several customers spare a glance your way and you click your tongue. You don't need a fucking audience.
"Yeah," you get out, almost laughing the word and take a long swig of your drink, wishing that you got something a little harder. You're pretty sure this is a single shot vodka soda. "I got her pregnant," you follow up, not really to her but more to yourself as you haven't said it out loud yet, but it doesn't take away any of that heaviness that formed in your chest at being told such a life altering thing.
Again, Mercedes slumps back into her seat, looking twice as shocked as she did the first time she did it. "Fuck."
"Yeah, fuck," you repeat, fingering your glass and the silence goes on for a little longer, which is shocking again, but still not as shocking as being told you've knocked someone up. Maybe tomorrow you'll think about how strange it is for Mercedes not to be yelling at you considering she was so vocal a few weeks ago, after finding out that you and Brittany had slept together the first time, but not now. Now you're way too inside your head about being a mother by the end of the year.
Double fuck.
"Is she not on anything?"
It's not what you expected, so you drag your gaze up from the glass to meet your friends stare. "We used a condom," you explain, choosing to lower your voice at the last word as you glance around, making sure no-one's listening after Mercedes gasped obnoxiously loudly earlier. "Apparently they're only like 97% effective," you shrug.
"What!?" She screeches again, and back comes the audience which makes heat flood to your cheeks, so you throw yourself back into the booth and sink a little lower, wishing you would disappear into a black hole. Mercedes just grabs her bag, throwing it on top of the booth and digs through it vigorously, pulling out a condom and twisting it around in panic, scanning the small, inscribed words on the back of the packet. "Where the fuck does it say that?"
Normally, you'd laugh, but you're all out of hilarity and still very much trying to come to terms with the fact your life is never going to be the same. You throw back the rest of your drink, flagging down the bartender with two fingers for a refill but give him a nod you hope he takes it as you wanting something stronger, and he smiles before picking up a dark brown bottle that you hope is whiskey. Right now, as long as it's alcohol, you don't care.
"I don't know," you sigh out, as on the walk over you were thinking of a strongly worded email you're planning on sending the condom company. "But I'm living proof it's true."
After not being able to find that particular fact on the packet, Mercedes drops it bag in her bag and moves it down to the booth beside her, kicking into the friend mode as she leans over. You want to apologise too, but you're finding it hard to verbalise that or pretty much anything apart from repeating that Brittany's pregnant with your kid, but you know you need to. The whole reason Mercedes warned you in the first place is because you are her best friend and Brittany's her choreographer, and she told you she didn't want you and your dick getting involved and fucking things up and look where you are now.
Brittany's going to keep it, and Mercedes doesn't even know that yet.
But the question comes as expected. "What are you two going to do?"
You inhale shakily, sucking in your trembling bottom lip and the bartender comes over, sliding a tray with two refills (or new whiskey on ice for you) on to the table and you flash him a half smile before he whisks off again, leaving you to answer. You can't lie to Mercedes, and you think you sort of chose her to talk to as there's going to be punishment from her for doing as she told you not to, whereas Rachel or Kurt would've been happy and supportive and you're feeling a little hatred right now. You feel like you deserve it, even if you're not even considering not going through with it if that's what Brittany wants.
"She's having it," you say through a long exhale, rolling your neck backwards until you're staring at the ceiling. "We're going to have the baby."
Mercedes chokes, you hear it, and it makes you glance back down to find her brows now furrowed with empathy, her lips pressed into a tight line like she's not sure how to process how you're reacting. She probably can't tell if you're happy or sad about this whole thing, and you'll be honest… You're not too sure either anymore. Now that you've left Brittany's side and burst the bubble of excitement that you initially had when she told you, you're thinking of all the things that began creeping into your mind whilst you were there.
Like what does this mean for you two? Where are you going to live? Will you even live together when the baby is born? What are you going to call it? How are you going to tell your parents that you've not only got Brittany back in your life, but she's going to be your baby mama, too?
There's so many things to sort out and decide, and one of them includes Mercedes as you've pretty much taken away her crew choreographer which is a major fuck up on your behalf. As a best friend, that was a major douchebag move and you've got to apologise to her.
Before you can though, she's talking again. "I'm pro-choice," Mercedes announces and you're so not expecting it, you jerk backwards and blink several times at her.
"What?"
"In case you were worried I'd judge your ass," she explains and something inside your chest releases. She's not mad. "So if you were considering abor–"
"No, no," you cut her off, not wanting to hear that word as you're pro-choice too, but Brittany wants to keep the kid and so you won't even spare a second thought towards visiting a planned parenthood clinic for other reasons than confirming a pregnancy. "We've talked about it and I've already said I'm going to be there if she wants to do this but…" You trail off, finding your throat thick. "She said I needed to give it some time and think it over."
Lifting a shoulder, Mercedes offers you a weak smile, taking a long sip of her drink before replying. "I mean… She's got a strong, intelligent head on her," she explains, and you bob your head. Brittany's a genius. "She would've thought this through and you two have a history which comes as a bonus," she pokes her tongue out, narrowing her eyes quickly as she thinks of what to say. "It could've been some nameless blonde you picked up in here," she tries, and you realise she's trying to make the situation lighter, but you don't think anything could really do that.
Even if you had similar thoughts before.
"I know," you agree and wince as you swig at your whiskey, forgetting it's not vodka soda anymore. The burn feels good though and it's the first time since Brittany spoke to you in the first bar you were in that you've felt something other than numb. "I just don't really know what to say to her about it."
Mercedes leans forward again and takes a moment to reply. You're kind of glad now you asked her instead of your other friends as she's treading on eggshells, seeing the softer, more vulnerable side to you and due to her not having an irritating personality, she's not smothering you with support or pestering you with an endless list of questions. That's something Hummel and Berry would do, and so you take a second to remember to pay her back at some point for this.
She was probably about get laid too if the call earlier was any indicator.
"Did you tell her you're okay with it?"
"Obviously," you shoot back, faster than you can think of the word and a soft smile graces Mercedes lips as her head tilts. "I told her I'd be there for anything she needs and financially speaking, I think we're both stable enough and you know… We're friends," you continue even though she didn't push you for it. You just feel like you need to repeat everything you said as you meant it. "We do have a history and I think it'll make it easier in the long run." Something you said doesn't sit right, and you see it in the pinch of Mercedes lips. "What?"
"Don't take this the wrong way, Satan…" She starts, drawing the words out and looks down to her glass of wine to prepare herself. You don't like whatever it is already. "But is that all you guys are?" She asks, glancing back to you with slight fear. "Like, isn't your history also going to make this harder?"
Your face drops because that's not what you need; being bothered about you and Brittany's relationship status. You don't know how many times you have to tell people that you're just friends who occasionally slept together and are now having a kid, whilst also being ex-girlfriends. "We've gone over this."
"Yeah, and you still knocked her up," Mercedes throws back, cocking a brow and taking a sip of her wine to put a dramatic finish on her sentence.
"Fuck off."
"I'm just keeping it real," she shrugs, and you seethe in silence, biting down on your tongue because you know she means no harm. "As much as you need to think about if you're ready for a kid, you've also got to ask yourself if the kid is ready for you and Brittany," she explains, and it makes sense instantly. You hate that. "If you two don't know what you are and what this means then you can't bring a baby into that confusion… It's not fair and that's how you end up with red flag syndrome."
You clench your jaw because you only know the term as Mercedes uses it about you, and you can't tell her she's wrong. You have a lot of good things about you, but you rarely ever share them with anyone – not even your close friends – and instead show them your wicked tongue and store of poisonous venom and plethora of red flags that mean you aren't relationship material. You're also kind of a jackass when it comes to women, which is proved by your solo lifestyle that you very much purposefully keep solo, and that's not something that can continue if you've got a baby on the way.
But you're willing to give that up. You're more than happy to stop seeing how many times you can get laid in a week, or the thrill of having to come up with another lie as to why you don't want to see someone you had sex with again – the moving out the country thing got kind of old quick – because you need something to ground you. You're kind of reckless, and irresponsible with everything other than your career and you enjoy it yeah, but you'll have a baby soon.
That's not the type of parent you ever imagined yourself to be, and you'll be damned if you end up like that. Even if you're totally emotionally unprepared for it. Physically, you've got at least 8 months or so to get ready, but emotional isn't a matter of time.
Still though, you're going to be there. You're going to be the parent that the kid deserves, and you'll be whoever and whatever Brittany needs.
"So think about that," Mercedes follows up and starts on her new glass of wine, finishing off the other. "But know that regardless, I'll support you and so will Kurt, Blaine and Rachel and I promise," she pauses to drop her head, eyes holding yours intensely. "That I won't be mad at your ass for too long for taking my best choreographer away from me," she grins and you, for the first time tonight, break into a weak smile. She reaches over and grabs your hand on the table, clutching it like a grandma does to their grandkid. "We all love you, but you just gotta make sure it's the right thing for all of you," she finishes, and you know she doesn't mean just you and Brittany.
You nod your head but stay silent, and tip back the rest of your whiskey.
/
The moving truck was packed up and the house was empty.
You were sat on the curb outside, Brittany beside you, with the real estate agent talking loudly from behind as Brittany's parents handed over the keys and shook the guys hand, but you barely took notice. You didn't want to, because you were already super aware that the removal men were piled up and waiting to leave, and the family SUV was packed up too, with Brittany's little sister in the back playing with her Barbie doll and that just meant that the last few spots in the car needed to be filled soon.
It had only been half an hour that you were sat there, but neither you or Brittany spoke. You were just drinking each other in, staring and you could've offered to help with the rest of the crap inside the house, but Whitney told you to have the last moments together and soak up everything as the dread you felt inside was trebling with every second that passed.
Because Brittany was about to leave, and you couldn't stop her.
"Brittany? Baby?" James called, and you peered over your shoulder with watery eyes to see him waving his hand in the air. "It's time to go, honey."
The heaviness inside you doubled at the sound of his voice, and you glanced back to look at your girlfriend – or ex-girlfriend, you guessed – as she snapped her head around, tears flowing out her eyes but otherwise, Brittany was completely silent. A few moments prior to that, she was staring at you with unbridled love, affection, and adoration, but all you could see in that moment was fear and panic and regret and you wanted to hold her and never let go.
You always hated goodbyes, and you didn't want to practise and become skilled at doing them because that one was going to fucking suck, although there was a small part of you that knew that this goodbye would top all others. No other goodbye you'd ever have to give would be harder than that one, right there, because you would never become as attached to anyone like her again. You'd never feel that way about someone like her again, not only because you wouldn't let yourself, but because you didn't think you were physically capable of it.
Brittany was the one that managed to pierce the titanium wall around your heart and climb inside. She was the other one that ever bothered, and you knew that everything after that would just pale in comparison, so in that moment, staring into her eyes, you made a solid vow that you wouldn't ever give yourself to anyone else like you did with her.
Never again.
But the time had come, and you had to let her go as if what you had was real, that maybe it would come back to you at some point. You were going to stay in contact, going to live out the rest of your teen/young adult lives and maybe somewhere along the way, run into each other again. Maybe you would fly to Michigan, or she could come back home for the summer, and that was how you managed to force yourself to your feet, pulling Brittany with you and dragging yourselves over to the family car.
It was the only thing motivating you, as focusing on anything else would only reignite the burning urge inside your chest to hop into your dad's Mustang, parked behind the moving truck, throw Brittany inside and drive away to a nameless place with no idea what to do. That seemed far more interesting, but you knew you couldn't. You couldn't think of ways to stop it from happening, as that opportunity had long gone and you felt like you were withering away inside, thinking about every second you shared with her, flashing before your very eyes like you were about to die.
But when Whitney and James came over and hugged you, kissed you on the cheek and told you that you were welcome to go to Michigan at any time, it brought you back to reality and as they climbed into the car, you turned your attention back to the blonde beside you and thought about nothing else but her.
Brittany was staring right back at you, still crying a river, and sucking her lips inside her mouth and all you knew was that you loved her. You loved her more than you'd loved anything else in that Godforsaken world, and you were going to miss the feeling of her being around. You were going to miss how she called you in the morning to make sure you were awake, and how her eyes sparkled a little brighter when they were looking your way, and you knew you hadn't said it yet as when you planned to, that was the night Brittany's parents called you downstairs to tell you about moving and it took the shine out of it.
It just seemed pointless, but right then, feeling like you chest was about to cave in, the only thing you wanted to do was tell her, over and over again, and hope it would do something to make that situation feel better.
You just had to, as you needed to say something and that felt like the only right thing as goodbye was too painful, so you stepped closer, inhaling deeply as you tipped your forehead against hers, breathing her in and savouring every last piece of that moment. You stood there, deadly silent, trying to figure out how to say it and whether you should use the speech you came up with a few weeks back, when you first initially went to do it, but you knew that the second it came out, you'd have to ration it for weeks and months to come as you didn't know when you'd see her next.
So you opened your mouth, it being dry already from nerves, but you didn't manage to get it out…
Because Brittany said it first.
"I love you," she sobbed, breath heavy on your face and you sucked in a sharp gasp, reeling back an inch and opening your eyes to look into hers. The words were so quiet that you almost didn't hear them, but she didn't flinch or twitch, or try to take it back, she just stared right back and repeated it. "I love you… I've loved you since the first time we talked beneath the bleachers," she admitted, and your heart squeezed tightly inside your chest. "I know it's dumb to say it now because I'm leaving but…" Her chin ducked to her chest as she trailed off, giving a small shrug. "I just need to tell you that I love you."
"I love you, too," you blurted out, not even getting to process or think of that damn speech you'd prepared as the words just spilled out your mouth in an instant.
It was like a gut reaction, because you'd been dying to say it for months now, but you wanted to romance her and delve into the deep meaning as to why, but looking into deep, blue eyes, you knew that you didn't have to. She loved you and you loved her, with every little piece of both of you and you'd never trusted anything more. You knew it was a real because it was staring at you, through watery blue eyes, and that thing had always been there, ever since she'd stumbled beneath those damn bleachers and brought colours to your world that you never knew existed.
But those colours were going. They were disappearing with her to freaking Michigan and you began withering inside because those three words weren't going to change anything.
Brittany was still leaving.
It didn't stop you from saying it over and over again though. That was your only chance to. "I love you and I think I always have loved you and I don't care that you're moving to another state because that's not going to change," you forced out, picking pieces out of your pre-prepared speech and the hot panic you felt earlier when you first came outside and saw the moving truck just seeped away. "I don't think anything ever could stop me from feeling this way."
Brittany burst out into a deep sob, throwing her arms around you and you just tucked yourself up inside her embrace, pulling her so tightly against you that you could fuse into one. You said it, and something released inside your chest, a little like relief, but every other emotion clouded that spark and you swiftly returned to deep sadness and dread. You half regretted not saying it sooner, to prove the words to her with actions but you couldn't… It was long gone and there was no point in the regret as it wasn't going to change the course of your relationship.
So you just clutched on to her as long as possible, thinking that maybe in a couple years after graduating, you could move to be with her, go to Michigan state college or something, and pick up where you left off.
You didn't know at the time that it wouldn't go that way.
But you weren't entirely wrong.
/
You turn up at Brittany's door after leaving Mercedes to return to her date.
You don't think you made the conscious decision to, but you know more than anything that you also can't sleep on this because it's far too important. You need to make sure that Brittany's okay and that you can confirm that you weren't in panic and just spewed what she wanted to hear because you didn't. You were and are still serious; you're going to be there and be who she wants and give her what she needs. You'll be the stand up parent and make a non-emotional relationship work because you once knew Brittany better than you knew yourself, and these past 5 or 6 weeks have shown that not everything has faded with time.
Maybe the love, sure, but it's turned into a strong friendship that has residual sexual feelings, which is entirely natural.
Not anymore though. You think you've both learned your lesson with casual sexual relationships and even if you don't seek out nocturnal company elsewhere for the next 18 years, you'll learn to live with it.
Anyway, you rap on the door, and there's a voice calling you in, so you twist the handle and let yourself in, finding Kitty, Brittany, and Quinn, hauled up on the couches with hot chocolates and plaid blankets. It looks super cosy, and you almost smile before you register the two glares being shot your way from the two blondes you don't know, and you stop immediately, fully prepared to defend yourself if needs be. You haven't done anything wrong here.
"Don't guys," Brittany says, earning her friends attention. "I told Santana to go and think over it… She didn't want to leave."
You suddenly understand why you're being glared at, as Brittany told you that they were coming over and obviously having found her alone after telling you news like that, they probably assumed you'd ran out the door quicker than you could say goodbye, but you didn't. Still, you don't need to justify your actions and they don't know you or anything about you and Brittany – bar the things they've probably heard – but you have a thousand years before this to back your side up anyway, and you're solidly confident on that.
Plus, you'd prefer not to argue with them whilst you're in this vulnerable state. You already know Quinn's got a mouth on her and is already coming across as much of a bitch as you are, so you hold strong and fold your arms over, managing a weak smile on your face.
"Yeah, I just came back to see how Brittany is," you explain, wanting to announce why you're here and your eyes flit to meet blue ones, silently conveying that you didn't want to wait until tomorrow to talk. Brittany nods, too small of an action for her friends to catch on and Quinn glares for a few more seconds like she's trying to find the bullshit, but she can't. You're not bullshitting anyone or anything and you're here to tell Brittany that you can do this together if that's what she wants.
After a few moments, both the blondes get up and grab their things, shrugging their coats on and taking hint that they should probably leave you two alone. They both come towards you to head for the door, but Quinn grabs your arm on the way out as Kitty brushes straight past, not even bothering to say hello or goodbye and Quinn leans in like she did at the AnderHummel wedding, and you can see the fierceness behind her eyes.
"I will maim you if you hurt her or that baby," she hisses, too low for Brittany to hear and your mouth drops open to snap something witty back, but then Kitty's stepping up beside you and leaning in, too.
"I'll help her hide the body until I can get a hold of some pigs," Kitty adds on, and it's like the least terrifying thing you've ever heard or soon – because pigs… really? – but you don't laugh, just pinch your brows together. "They eat human bone," the shorter blonde throws in, face twisting up into a sharp smirk, eyes narrowed and evil and you clench your jaw at the threat. You didn't see that coming, but maybe you've got two worthy opponents to release some venom on, should you need to.
"Leave her alone," Brittany says from behind, but her voice is strained, and you push all thoughts of choking one of the other blondes out, replacing it with the need to comfort Brittany.
So, you do just that, moving over to her side and taking a seat on the sofa, and Kitty and Quinn stand strong, sharing a look before Quinn nods – she's obviously the one in charge – and they both glare at you as they back away and disappear through the door, closing it quietly. You stare at the wood, hearing the retreating footsteps as the television isn't on for background noise, and you shift in your seat to look at Brittany, who's smiling at you but looking smaller than ever and you're reminded of why you came.
"Hey," she whispers, biting on her bottom lip. "I didn't expect to see you again tonight... Everything okay?"
You settle back into the sofa, allowing the comfort of being around her seep in as you breathe easier for the first time since you left here a few hours ago. She eyes the movement, probably registering that you aren't on the edge of your seat, about to dart off to where you entered a second ago, and leans back too, watching you but staying silent and you know you need to answer and explain why you're back, more than anything else. It should be a good sign, but you know nothing about this situation is normal as you've never had to be in this territory before, so Brittany doesn't know what to expect, regardless of what you said initially.
"I talked to Mercedes," you reply and poke your tongue out, wetting your lips.
"Did you tell her?"
You nod immediately, not wanting to hide any part of this as if you're going to do this, you need to be completely honest with each other. "Yeah," you sigh and slide your palms down your thighs, over your jeans and squeeze at your knees. "She said she's going to support us, if we're going to have…" Your eyes finish the sentence, dropping to the blanket covering Brittany's legs, where she's sat at the opposite side of the sofa and you see her inhale deeply, like she's bracing herself. "If you wanna do this together," you add on, not wanting to say the word baby even if you already had with Mercedes like, ten times.
Brittany pauses, holds your eye for a long moment, lingering over your words and you know she's scared she's going to freak you out by reacting to rapidly. You won't get freaked out though. You're weirdly calm right now. "Do you wanna do this together?"
You said it once, you said it twice, but you'll say it as many times as she needs to reassure her that you're not going anywhere. "Yeah, Britt. You're not alone in this," you scoot down the sofa to the middle, and reach over to grab her hand, tugging her towards you and allowing the familiarity to sink in; the one that you used to have when you were teenagers, and you could just touch her whenever you wanted. Just because. "I'm gonna be there every step of the way, I promise," you shrug like you're not giving full devotion to this unborn baby and saying something far more casual. "I'll be there if you want me and we can do this..." You lift your hand, sticking out a specific finger and letting your lip twitch into a lopsided grin. "Pinkie promise."
There's barely a second before Brittany's sobbing loudly and batting your hand out the way, throwing herself towards you, tackling you until you're laying flat and your legs stretch out down the other end of the sofa. For a moment, you're winded, but then your arms weave around the blondes body as she tucks her head into your neck and continues crying, half from happiness, and half from fear as this is a really big fucking deal. You need to be the strong one here though, so you just hold her as close as possible, drop a kiss to her hair and make a promise that you won't break.
"We'll be okay, Britt…" You say, beginning a slow rocking motion side to side, as much as you can. "We'll be okay."
/
How we feeling?