Tummy Hurts (Renee Rapp, Coco Jones)

My phone rang, and I barely looked at the screen in a rush to ignore the shit out of my mother.

"Hello?"

"Guess who's going to be an auntie?!" A bubbly voice yelled into my eardrum.

"Brittany?"

"Santana wanted to tell you herself, but I couldn't wait for her to get off the phone with her mom and dad. She's been giving them the news for an hour, so I called my parents and now you! Isn't this amazing?"

"Wow...B...uh...wow!"

"Aren't you excited?" She asked, still nearly shrieking at me. "Because I sure am! We're four weeks, and I know it's bad luck, but Santana told me on our wedding day we used all of our bad luck up already, so what's there to lose. Right? Quinn? Did you faint?"

I sunk to my mattress, with my phone pressed to my ear and nearly jumped from my skin when I saw that my mother was still standing in my doorway, her mouth agape as she waited to find out what was up.

"No, Brittany, I'm still here. Congratulations. I'm just in shock. I thought you were applying for Julliard."

"I am. I start in August. Santana's pregnant, not me, silly!"

And that's when I died inside.

"Oh?"

"Quinn?" She asked.

"Hmm?"

"This means you can let her go now."

Her words shocked me back to life, back to realizing just why Brittany had rounded out the Unholy trio. She was no saint, and as childish as she was, a part of her was still a genius.

And because of that, I knew for sure that she had planned to be the one to tell me all along. Just so she could rub it in.

How mature of her.

"Let her go?" I asked.

"I know everything, including what she promised you, and I want you to know that you don't have to hold onto her anymore because from now on, whatever you two had going on is over. I won." She said, her voice going still and sharp. "Right?"

Piercing straight through my heart.

"Yeah, B. You won."

"Great! So keep an eye out for a shower invitation in a few months! Gotta call some other people! See ya!" She giggled through her last statement and then ended the call before I could say another word.

Thankfully.

I fell back on my bed and stared at the ceiling for a long time, feeling like tears should be coming out of my eyes, but I wasn't sad. Babies are blessings, and just because Santana could be having one doesn't mean that suddenly Brittany had won some imaginary competition, but I wasn't going to tell her that.

She was insecure, and I had no time for it.

"Quinnie, is everything alright?" I had almost forgotten that my mother had been standing there. I sat up and smiled at her, sighing and then tossing my phone onto the bed before standing back up and packing.

"Santana's pregnant. If I believe Brittany, she's four weeks."

"Oh." Mother said, eyeing me, "Do you not believe Brittany?"

I shrugged. "It doesn't matter, and it's not my problem or my business."

"Quinn, this is Santana we are talking about."

"I know. I'm okay."

"If you say so." She tried to smile, but her eyes were still squinted. I shrugged again and went back to arranging my clothes.

I think Mother was mentally preparing herself for a breakdown that I knew wasn't coming. I was sad, but not for the obvious reason. Any baby from Santana would be beautiful and endlessly loved by me; what I was sad about was the potential that Santana was about to throw away if Brittany was to be believed.

"I'm not going to break down. I'm okay." I said when I saw that she was still staring at me a few minutes later as I was zipping my suitcase. "It's a shock, but after the week I've had, I think I'm too emotionally exhausted to get bent out of shape over it. A little girl needs me more than anyone else, and I will be there for her."

I could see the relief on her face as she tried to smile more naturally.

"That's good to hear. I think I'm going to head to bed. Do you need anything?"

"I'm going to call Beth, and then I'll probably call it a night too."

"Well, then, goodnight Quinnie. Wake me if you need me."

"I will."

It was like a switch had been flipped when the rest of the house was dark. After, I had a brief call with just Vincent because Beth had cried herself to sleep, and he didn't want to wake her.

I understood, but I still broke down in tears for my baby girl once the call ended. I showered, laid out my clothes for the next morning and put my suitcase on my window seat. It was late, but I wasn't tired.

The smart thing to do would have been to call it a night like I had said I would do, but my mind was whirling, and I couldn't get it to stop.

I needed to confirm what Brittany had said, and I couldn't let the night end without doing it. Brittany had done something entirely stupid; she had poked a sleeping dragon. I hadn't thought of Santana until Britt called me and dragged me back into their drama.

And I was tired of it. I wanted to move past it. At this moment in our lives, at 21 years old, we weren't meant to be together, and I was ready to commit to that idea as the gospel because I couldn't allow either Brittany or Santana to distract me from being a good mother to Beth.

I would never forgive myself if I gave my daughter a watered-down, distracted version of myself. I have been dreaming of having her back in my life for way too long to let some stupid bimbo ruin it for me.

Mother was sleeping in the next room. I could hear her murmuring in her sleep, so I took my phone down to my father's old study that was just as he had left it, minus the old dusty books that he cherished more than my mother or me and almost as much as he loved Frannie.

I closed the door and locked it just in case Mother woke up and decided she wanted to be the mother of the year some more. I loved her for it, but when I'm about to wallow, I'd rather not have any witnesses.

The safe wasn't locked, which was great because I didn't remember the password, and I was sure my shaky hands couldn't have spun the combination.

I pulled open the vault door (because, of course, Russell Fabray couldn't be a normal person and have a good little box in the wall; he needed a closet), and there before me was his vintage wine collection that he kept hidden from Mother and the rest of us, but I knew way more than he ever knew.

I was sixteen when I learned how to cork and foil his old bottles after drinking them and refilling them with grape juice and cheap vodka.

There were a few bottles left that he hadn't managed to take before Mother put him out; the dust on them and the impeccable foil were original, thankfully. I was afraid to see what my concoctions had turned out to taste like.

A quick tear and use of the electric opener had a bottle open and me smiling like an idiot.

And this was just the beginning.

A glance at the old clock in the corner said two in the morning. I had a flight at noon, the earliest that Vincent had been able to get me on short notice. He and Beth would be leaving at six, so they wouldn't have to see the inevitable wreck I would be when I got on my flight.

Thankfully.

I didn't want to see her face, but I needed to because Santana is a master manipulator who can lie easier than Rachel Berry can be honest; her eyes, though, can never look at me and lie.

It was a risk because Brittany could be hovering, but I was almost half a bottle in by the time I had gotten up the nerve to connect the call, and I was becoming increasingly angry, too angry to stop myself. I wasn't sure if she was back from their honeymoon or not, and I didn't fucking care.

The screen was black at first, but I could hear the rustle of sheets and a light whisper before I saw the pale light of a room. Before, the screen went completely bright, and there Santana was, in a sunny place, with her hair swirling around her face. I was completely confused. How was it daytime where she was?

"Where are you?" I asked, momentarily forgetting why I had called her in the first place.

"Japan." She said, her voice hoarse. "It's got to be the middle of the night there. Is everything okay?" She said, brushing her fingers through her hair as she turned herself so I could see the view of a city behind her. She was high up, a hotel, maybe.

"What are you doing there?" I asked. She smirked at me and then sat down, a sliding door behind her.

"I'm here on a whim. It's a long story, but my life is about to get pretty interesting."

"Oh, Yeah?" I asked, ready for her to tell me about her impending motherhood.

"Yeah. Q...are you drinking...in Russell's office?"

"Obviously." I chuckled, showing her the old bottle, and then I quickly swept the room with my phone before looking at her face again. "Much of that fake wine we made is gone, so he must not have noticed the switch. This wine, though, is a vintage one."

"Oh God, I wish I could have some of that right now." She pouted, and my stomach churned because she couldn't have wine right now, even if she wanted to.

"Me too. I wish you were here. Lima isn't the same without you, and thankfully, I get to escape for a few days."

"Oh, Yeah?" She squinted and then got closer to the phone screen. "Where ya headed, Q? Did you finally decide to go to Santorini with the bourgeoisie twins."

Up until that moment, I had not considered seriously an offer of a summer in Greece, but for a split second, it sounded pretty nice in comparison to Lima.

"Nope. I am headed to Loredo with Vincent and-"

"Who the heck is Vincent, and why is he taking you to Texas?" She said, cutting me off and suddenly serious.

"Vincent is Shelby's MARRIED brother."

"Oh."

"Yeah. Shelby's mom passed away this morning, and so I'm headed to Loredo to bury her and start the process of getting full custody of Beth." I said in one rushed breath before taking another sip of wine straight from the bottle.

"I know she annoys you, but has anyone told Rachel?"

"Uh, no. She didn't know Merna."

"Yeah, but Beth didn't really know you. Wouldn't you want her to be there if something happened to Judy if you were able to make that happen?"

"I…I guess so. I really don't have the mental capacity to deal with her. If you want to tell her, be my guest."

"Yeah, I think I might. Wait! I just realized, um, despite the deaths...this should be exciting for you, but you aren't drinking celebratory wine. What's wrong? Do you not want Beth anymore?"

"I do."

"Then why are you sad? Did Vincent hurt you? Are you sad over Shelby and her mom? Talk to me, Q."

And there she was, the best friend I had needed her to be these past few weeks. I felt the tears way too late, and they came in a rush of blinking and difficult swallowing as I tried to quell the need to sob.

Santana's face crumpled as she looked at me sternly.

"I've got all this shit going on. I haven't even looked into med school...I spent three days in the psych ward. It's been a tough week."

"Shit...I bet. You're not still wearing the breakfast shirt, though, so that's good."

"Wait, what?"

"Mami told me about it." She said, a small smirk on her face. "I would have paid money to see you wearing that."

"Yeah, well, sorry to disappoint."

"So talk to me. Are you still feeling unhinged? Are you having second thoughts?"

"No. I KNOW that I want Beth. She's the greatest, and you'll love her. I'm sad about Shelby and Merna dying and Beth having to shoulder that, and I'm kind of pissed that Puck isn't here for any of it, and he's been out of touch, but more than anything, I'm disappointed that you weren't the one to tell me that you're pregnant."

"What?"

"Don't play dumb, Brittany called earlier."

"SHE DID WHAT?!"

As she stood up, the connection began to cut up, and she pulled the sliding door open. The screen went dark again, and she mumbled something to someone. A man's voice responded to her, but it was muffled.

Even though I couldn't hear her exact words, she was near tears from the sound of her voice. The fact that she was this upset told me enough. Brittany had fucked up.

Her voice started getting louder, but she was still hard to fully understand. It seemed like I was pressed against her chest. I imagined it was a hug, making me feel warm.

And then suddenly, I could hear her voice again, and the screen got light, the warmth faded, and worry replaced it. The sight of her face followed the sound of the sliding door, and it gave me pause. Her eyeliner had begun to smudge, and from what I could tell, we were again outside. She sat on the patio chair, looking devastated and pissed. What got my attention, though, was that she was now on another phone.

"You called Quinn." She said, holding the phone for me to see her, but she wasn't looking at me as she bit her lip and listened. "No, stop it. This isn't a game. What did you say to her, B, and why?" I watched the realization and anger become more apparent, and more tears came down her face, bringing her mascara with them.

"Because she's jealous." I muttered, taking a long swig of the wine and savoring the sweetness of it on my tongue. I was giddy and was happy that Santana was too upset to notice my gloating. I did my best to put on a straight face even though I wanted to laugh.

"Why did you do that? You know that it was something we talked about, but I told you, B, it's not happening. Especially not now! This is MY chance. Be happy for me like I was for you, please? She's got so much going on, and because you are mad at me and something that I did, you decided to fuck with her? Someone died, Brittany. She's grieving. HOW DARE YOU, B! This is low, and I don't plan on having a marriage built on vindictive lies. That's not you, B. We're too old for these games."

I hated seeing this conversation take place, but I couldn't bring myself to hang up. The sickness I had been feeling quickly turned to glee, and I felt guilty for it. I was feeling slightly ashamed but very much vindicated.

Santana mumbled something I couldn't hear and ended the call. She put the phone down and then wiped her face with the sleeve of the robe that she was wearing.

As vindicated as I felt, she seemed completely heartbroken...again.

We were alike in many ways, including wanting to wallow alone. Although I could see the embarrassment as Santana finally brought her phone closer to her face, she wouldn't expect or appreciate my sympathy. Thankfully, I had schooled my face into what I hoped was a more neutral expression.

"Hey, Q?"

"Yes?"

"I'm really sorry for what she did. There's no excuse, but you should know what started it."

"No, that's not necessary. I don't have to know. Don't make a big deal out of it."

"But it is a big deal."

"I'm doing my best to keep my word to you. I'm honoring my vows, which means I was probably too honest with her at times."

"You're always honest, S. It's what I like about you."

"Remember you said that."

"Huh?"

"You heard me."

"Look, Britt's a control freak, I know that and obviously she's mad about something."

"You're right, I did this, and you deserve to know why."

"Again, it's no big deal."

"You can't tell me that when I'm legit, watching you sitting there, drinking alone in the middle of the night before you have to deal with custody arrangements and a funeral. It can't be easy for you right now, and this was the polar opposite of what you needed. So let me tell you why she's being such a bitch."

"Fine." An incoming call appeared on the screen, and I rolled my eyes as I declined it. Santana's face showed up again, and I rolled my eyes again. "Brittany is calling me. I'm not going to answer. I don't think I can handle any more of her today."

"Good, let her feel as shitty as we do right now."

"Santana, don't be cold."

She growled and pushed her hair back. Black streaks were drying on her face as she pushed out her bottom lip. She went to open her mouth, and I could see the veneers that she had gotten to fix her teeth, but I didn't want to bring it up. Maribel told me how insecure she was about smiling now, and I didn't want to point it out.

"Okay, it's late for you, and I need to get back in there, so this is what went down. A few months back, Sam gave me the cards of a few modeling agencies before he left for Lima. I called a few when I got back to New York. I went on a couple of Go Sees, and the day after we spoke, I got called for a job in Tokyo, and I'm here. Brittany is upset that I'm not on our honeymoon and that from here, I'm supposed to be going to Milan for a day or two, and then if another job comes up, I'm going to do that. She wanted me to get pregnant while she went to school. I said no."

"Good!" I said, raising the bottle to her in salute, but instead of smiling, she scowled.

"You should stop drinking, Luce. Beth needs you at your best, and this isn't it. So now you know that I'm in no way, shape, or form knocked up, and I don't see that happening anytime soon. I'm still trying to figure out this whole marriage and if I made the right choice. I promised that I would try, and I am. I even told her about the promise I made to you. Maybe that's my mistake. I gave her the ammo, and she used it." Another few tears fell, and she let them.

"It's fine. No harm, no foul. I'll stop drinking; you're right; this isn't my best. That call was just the last straw on a heavy week."

"Well, you can at least walk away from this knowing that you inspired me to get off my ass and do something for me. I see you and the rest of the gleeks, even Puck, doing things, and I'm just drifting. It's not good enough for me. I'm the daughter of two doctors. I've been way too spoiled and expected to coast as long as I could, but you showed me that I have way more potential than that. Thanks."

"That's what best friends are for, right?"

"I guess so." There was a knock on the sliding door behind her, and she looked back and then groaned. "I need to get back to work. So put the wine away and get some sleep. Keep me updated on the custody thing. I want to be the first to congratulate you. I love you, Luce."

"I love you too."

Despite the stumble as I stood, when I pushed the cork into the wine bottle, I saw that I had drunk barely under half. I would be grateful for not overindulging by the time Mother was up and forcing me out of bed.

I felt incredible lightness as I grabbed a bottle of water from the kitchen before heading to bed. The imminent future was going to be tough, but I felt more prepared for it than ever.

I had started my spiral downward, upset and distracted, but I knew that from here on out, I was done being sorry for myself and worrying about Santana. For the first time in a while, I could stop mothering those around me and start the process of becoming the mother that I was destined to be.

For real, this time!

And also, Brittany hadn't won, which was the cherry on what was becoming an incredible fucking sundae.