I Know You Want Me - Chapter Five
Title: I Know You Want Me
Author: Sio & Maura
Rating: Hard NC-17
Length: 24,673
Spoilers: This is AU. No Beth. No Lucy. Puck/Rachel lasted for a few months instead of a week and Jesse is a bigger ass than canon. Also Santana's promiscuity implied in the canon is not in effect for this fic for reasons that will be made evident.
Pairing: Rachel/Santana, Puck/Quinn
Summary: Rachel's longed after someone since the first day they met, but will a big secret bring them together or destroy them?
Warnings (highlight to read): Gender Identity Disorder, pregnancy, angst, topping, language, voyeurism, dub-con, non-con, anal, oral, vaginal, public, fisting, size-kink, and talk of self harm
Chapter Five - Typical
She didn’t know what to do.
Rachel paced back and forth on Santana’s porch, rubbing at her forehead and biting her lip as she tried to work out the various possibilities in her mind. The only thing she was certain of was that she had to tell Santana. She wouldn’t keep it from her and - if she was entirely honest - she wanted the other girl’s help in figuring out what to do now.
Finally, she took a deep breath and centered herself as if she was going out on the stage at a full house production at the Lima Community theater and rang the buzzer. Biting her lip, she bounced on her heels, glancing nervously at the window beside the door and smiling with all the wavering confidence she could find. She was incredibly nervous, but really what else could she do? When the doorknob rattled and began to open, she clasped her hands in front of her anxiously and looked up with her best smile, hoping it would be Santana on the other side.
After a few moments the townhouse door opened and a Hispanic man in his late 30’s opened the door with a slight smile. "Hello, can I help you?" He asked as she looked at the obviously distraught girl on his stoop.
Rachel’s face almost fell but at the last moment she managed to cling to her smile. "Um, hello, Mr. Lopez? My name is Rachel Berry. I’m a, um... friend. Of Santana’s. From Glee club? Is she here?"
"Hello, Rachel Berry," He smiled and he pushed open the door to the house. "I’m Miguel Lopez, Santana’s father." He brought the girl inside out of the chilly weather. "I believe my child is upstairs napping, Cheerios takes way too much energy out of that girl."
"Ah, yes, cheerleading is quite an invigorating sport and Santana is one of our best after all." Rachel smiled up at him as best she could, feeling incredibly nervous since she was there to tell his daughter that she’d knocked her up. "Do you mind if I go up and see her, sir? I just need to talk to her about something for a little bit."
He looked down at the girl curiously, "I think that you can..." he nodded his head up towards the stairs, "Her room is the second on the right... if you’d like I’m making salad for dinner you’re more than welcome to stay."
"That’s a very generous and kind offer but I may have to head home soon," she bobbed her head with a smile and headed up the stairs feeling more nervous with every step closer to Santana’s room. Her hand fidgeted nervously over her purse - the damning sticks felt like they each weighed ten pounds in their separate plastic bags. She took a breath and knocked on the door before carefully turning the knob and easing it open.
"Santana?" She almost whispered the other girl’s name as she slipped into the darkened room, her eyes slowly adjusting until she could see the other girl stretched out on her bed. Closing the door behind her, she crossed the room - almost tripping over the Latina’s desk chair at one point - to stand beside the bed. For a moment, she hesitated at waking her, smiling softly down at the almost peaceful expression on her face, her fingers itching to brush the dark hair from her face where it had fallen from her ponytail. She bit her lip and pushed down the awkward warm feeling she felt towards the girl - the mother... father? other parent of her unborn child. Santana wouldn’t appreciate it.
"Santana? It’s Rachel... please wake up," she finally gave in to the urge to brush her fingers over the other girl’s shoulder, trying to ignore the slight tingle she got whenever she touched soft, tanned skin. "I have to talk to you..."
Santana mumbled as she tried to come out of her slumber. She had come home from Cheerios and her therapy and gone straight to her room, changed into baggy basketball shorts and an tank top and fell asleep. She curled up into herself as she clutched a bunch of papers in her hands as she sniffled in her sleep.
"Don’t wanna wake up." She mumbled as she fused her eyes closed more.
Rachel licked her lips and carefully sat on the bed behind Santana. "Santana, please wake up," she whispered. "I really do have to talk to you, it’s im... port...ant," her words trailed off as her eyes managed to pick out words on the papers clutched in Santana’s hands. Reassignment. MtF. Surgery.
Biting her lip, she looked at Santana worriedly. "Santana... what’s going on?"
Santana jolted up as she heard a voice and the bed move and she woke up. "The fuck?" santana mumbled as she pushed the papers under her pillow and she rubbed her fist into her eyes as she tried to come back to reality. "What are you doing here?"
"I needed to talk to you about something that affects both of us," Rachel bit her lip and tried not to look completely worried and anxious but she was having more and more trouble hiding her reactions around Santana. "It’s terribly important and I truly didn’t want to have this conversation in public..."
"Whats wrong?" she asked, sitting up and rolling her neck as she did so. Santana ran her fingers through her hair and tightened her ponytail. "Why do you look like you’re gonna puke?"
"I, um," Rachel dropped her eyes to her hands, unable to keep looking at Santana and just feeling terribly nervous, "Please don’t be mad. I don’t know if I could bear it if you were mad at me." She sounded scared and nervous. "I just...." She bit her lip, wringing her hands in her lap, "I didn’t think it was possible. That’s why I never insisted on protection and... oh, God... you’re going to hate me..."
Santana sniffled her head still reeling from her earlier session in the day. "Look, Rachel..." Santana stated as she crossed her legs, "I’m not really in the mood to read through the crazy right now so please just tell me what the hell you’re freaking out about."
Rachel took a deep breath and just blurted it out. "I’m pregnant. I didn’t think it was possible, but I took six different tests and they’re all positive and I don’t know what to do!"
The Latina froze, "W-what?" She stumbled over her words. Santana never thought about the repercussions of her actions. "P-puck got you pregnant?" She asked, almost hoping that Rachel would tell her that it was her best friends child and not hers. That she wouldn’t have to deal with that issue.
Rachel shook her head, looking scared, "N-no... I told you, I’ve only... I’ve only been with you like that. I... I’m sorry, Santana... I’m so sorry..."
"I... it’s not possible!" Santana jumped off the bed and started pacing around the room. "I can’t. It’s not real. It doesn’t work like that!" Santana yelled, "I’m not a fucking boy... I can’t..." at that moment Santana looked in the mirror and slammed her fist into it.
Rachel flinched, "I’m sorry! I know you’re not a boy! I didn’t mean for this to happen! I didn’t think it could! Please don’t be mad, Santana. Please!" She was crying. She didn’t want to cry, but she was scared and she couldn’t seem to help it. "I... I’ll," she bit her lip almost hard enough to bleed, hating herself for even thinking about what she was about to offer, "I’ll get rid of it..." She sounded broken just forcing the words out.
Santana fell to the ground with a sob as she pulled her knees to her chest. She just looked at Rachel for several minutes as she rocked back and forth. "I... I’m a boy." She whispered out into the eerily quiet room. She just accomplished the single most masculine thing a person could do, and it also just caused the facade that she had allowed herself to build for the last 17 years crumble down around her.
Rachel gathered the shreds of her tattered confidence and crawled off the bed and over to Santana. Even though her heart was breaking at the idea of getting rid of the child they’d made, she wrapped her arms around Santana, "You’re not... you’re a girl. It happens sometimes. A freak accident. I’ll," her voice caught, cracking, "I’ll get rid of it. I won’t tell anyone else. Only you and I have to know this even happened. You’re a girl, Santana..."
Santana sniffled as she tried to not break down anymore. "No." she stammered, "You can’t. You can’t kill it... it’s real." Santana whimpered, her Catholic upbringing coming into light as she spoke. "Don’t kill it because of me."
Rachel rested her cheek on the top of Santana’s head and rubbed her back, "I know it’s real." She whispered, as if talking any louder would bring the fragile almost calm crashing down, "I don’t want to kill it. It’s ours, Santana... I know you don’t want it to be, but it is. I... I’ll talk to Noah. Maybe I can convince him to tell people it’s his. I just... I want to make this right for you. I’m sorry..."
"I’m sorry I ruined your life." Santana whimpered as she sniffled in Rachel’s arms. "I’m sorry... I didn’t know I could... I didn’t think... I should have known... I forgot... I forgot it’s real... I forgot it can do things." She babbled as she spoke, not really talking to anyone in particular.
"You didn’t ruin my life," Rachel wasn’t entirely certain she believed it, but she wanted Santana to, "you improved it. Okay, perhaps getting pregnant wasn’t in my life plan for another eight years, but I can work with that. Improv is spice of life, right?" She chuckled waterily, just holding the other girl close as she seemed to be breaking apart in front of her. "I don’t regret any of it, Santana. I promise you I don’t. I don’t know how I would ever get a beautiful girl like you interested in a loser like me after all."
"I’m a freak." Santana mumbled, pulling away and moving back to her bed. "Maybe... Maybe you should go and let Puck think he had sex with you and got you pregnant... you can be with him and be normal." Santana looked up almost hopeful that she’d give her best friend all the glory of getting the beautiful diva pregnant and she could continue to be a coward and hide. "If you want... you can do that... no one will know."
"But I don’t want Noah," Rachel whispered, looking far more fragile than she had earlier, "I’ll pretend for public if you want me to... but I don’t want him. I haven’t been with him in any way for months, Santana. Don’t you know I want you? But... but if that’s what you want." She drew away, her shoulders slumping. She felt awful and rejected - again - by a woman she wanted in her life. "I don’t want Noah. I want you... but if you don’t want me, I don’t know what I can do."
"I’m.. i’m not right." She explained the best she could. "I can’t be what you want. I can’t even be normal! I don’t know how to make you understand but you can’t be with me. Not until i’m right... I’m not right okay? We made a mistake, I never wanted to use it like that. I never... I never wanted to use it!" Santana almost yelled, pissed at herself as she gave into her physical wants more then her emotional and mental needs.
"I'm sorry," Rachel's arms wrapped around her stomach, her voice tiny, sad and a little scared. "I... I pushed you. It was wrong of me. This is all my fault."
She felt sick and hated herself more than she ever had in that moment. She liked Santana - if she was honest with herself, she really liked her - and she'd completely ruined any chance she might ever have had with her because she'd been too stupid to think it was possible to become pregnant with what they were doing - had been doing anyway, Rachel rather doubted Santana would even want to look at her again, let alone touch her in a sexual manner - and didn't even think to use protection.
"I'm sorry, Santana," she sniffled, getting to her feet, "I won't tell anyone anything. You don't have to worry. This is my fault... I'll fix it. I," she worked her jaw trying not to cry, "I really liked you, you know... I thought maybe we could," she shook her head, shrugging the idea off as pointless, "never mind. I'll," she risked a sad glance at the Latina, "I'll see myself out. I'll try not to bother you anymore, Santana. I know it doesn't mean anything but, I'm really sorry..."
Santana looked up, tears streaming out of her eyes. "Please don’t kill the baby." She whimpered, her voice cracking as she did so. "Please. I’ll help take care of it just don’t kill it. Please. God hate me enough, please don’t." She was pleading, her condition was god-given but she had always assumed god hated her. "Please..."
Rachel paused in front of the door before she opened it and shook her head. She didn't turn around, afraid that if she looked at Santana, she'd lose control and start crying. "I won't. I promise. I'll figure something out. You," her voice cracked, making her pause to swallow and try to clear her throat, "you don't have to do anything, Santana. I'll just," she shrugged, "make up a story. I'm fairly good at that. I can do this on my own if I have to. You don't have to be a part of anything you don't want to be. I just," she bit her lip, hand trembling slightly on the door knob, "I wanted you to know. I'm sorry. Please thank your father for inviting me to dinner, but I really can't stay..."
It was all too much. Santana just looked back down at the floor. Ashamed of herself, ashamed of her body and ashamed that she should stand up and take honor in the child that she helped produce, but she knew she couldn’t. She hadn’t thought it was possible to get someone pregnant. Santana just looked at the floor, attempting to try to fight herself.
"I’m sorry." She choked as she watched Rachel’s feet carry the mother of her child out of the room.
Rachel didn't want to see anyone after she closed the door to Santana's room softly behind her. Everything just hurt. She'd known she didn't really have a legitimate chance of winning the beautiful Latina's affections, but she had let herself pretend and hadn't thought about how much it would hurt when the rejection she'd finally received came. All she wanted to do was get home. She hurried down the stairs and slipped out the front door without even pausing to say goodbye to the friendly gentleman who'd greeted her earlier. She just ran, as fast as she could, back towards her home, taking the shortcut through the cemetery to avoid anyone who could be out that evening.
Santana hadn’t come to school in over a week. Rumors had spread of illness and jail time, but when the Latina’s father came into Glee and talked quietly to Mr. Schuster is when Quinn and Puck started to get worried.
Puck quickly hurried over to the older man when he was getting ready to leave the room. "Mr. Lopez, Sir... Where’s San? Is she okay?"
"Santana is okay. She’s just sick, she’ll hopefully be back at school soon." He lied to his daughter's friend, "I’ll tell her to call you when she feels up to it." Puck sighed as he slinked back to his seat.
Mr. Lopez eyes fell onto the small diva who had shook his house to the core a week back. He sighed, noting the dark circles around the girl's eyes and her vacant look. He wanted to talk to her, he needed to talk to her about his child’s well being. "Ms. Berry? May I speak to you for a moment?" He called out, "You have class with Santana and I need clarification on her assignment."
Rachel looked up at the genial older man and attempted a smile. "Certainly, Mr Lopez." She gathered her things carefully and climbed to her feet, crossing the room to stand beside him. "I don't really know what I could possibly clarify better than our instructor, but anything for an ill classmate," she tried the lackluster smile again, following him out of the room. Biting her lower lip, she asked softly, "How is she? Really."
Everyday Santana hadn't come to school, Rachel had felt a little more lost. She hadn't realized how much she had come to depend on seeing the other girl's sardonic smirk or hearing her laugh or cut someone with her words until there was a hole where the Latina had once been in her life. She liked her and she was the other parent of the child growing under her heart, but it had been made fairly clear to her that Santana didn't want her. And it broke her heart, but she still wanted her to be okay and as happy as possible. Something she just seemed to drive further away from the beautiful girl.
"My child decided to try to kill herself again, Ms. Berry." He said softly, "Luckily, I know her better than she knows herself and I got to her before she could hurt herself too badly." He ran his fingers through his hair. "Santana is my whole world," he exhaled and looked down at the young mother to be. "Much like my grandchild will be your whole world..." he said knowingly as he looked at the girl's stomach. "I think that you and Santana need to talk... but I know that she won't tell you. So why don’t you come to the house and you can see her..."
Rachel had started physically shaking as soon as the words that Santana had tried to kill herself - again - sank in. All she could do was stare wide-eyed at Mr Lopez and shake her head. "N-no, I... I can't. She doesn't want me or," her hand went over her belly, "It was just a mistake. I just make things worse, Mr Lopez. I don't want her to hurt herself because of me again..."
She was trying not to cry, but her emotions were getting harder and harder to keep in check. "She doesn't want me," she whispered, shaking her head and staring at the ground, "better that I should stay away..."
He looked down tiredly, "Santana is very confused... She has had to deal with a lot since she was a child." He sighed and looked up, "My daughter wants to be around you, but she thinks she ruined everything by following her instincts" he titled his head, "I want to explain everything to you, and so does she but she’s scared."
He touched Rachel’s shoulder and smiled sadly, "I need you to understand why Santana is taking this so hard... I can’t tell you here though."
Rachel was scared to go back to the house where everything came apart, but she nodded slowly, hugging herself. "O-" she swallowed against the thick feeling in her throat, "okay. I'll go. I'll listen. I just..." she shook her head, trembling and sounding even smaller than she was as she whispered, "I don't want to be rejected anymore..."
He smiled sadly, "Neither does she." He waited for the smaller girl to gather her belongings from her locker before heading back to the house that his daughter plain refused to leave.
After Miguel escorted Rachel into the house, he quickly headed upstairs to check on Santana before coming back down. "She’s still sleeping." He smiled fondly, honestly just glad that his child was sleeping and not dead. "I’m sorry about all of this, Rachel." He said as he picked up one of the books from the shelf and put it on the coffee table. "Would you like some tea or something to eat?"
She shook her head, standing awkwardly in the entrance to the living room, clutching the strap of her bag with both hands, speaking softly, "No, Mr Lopez, that's quite alright." She felt off-balance and out of place. Nothing seemed quite right since she'd seen positive marks on all six tests - she'd barely even been able to sing. Santana insisting their making a child together was a mistake and they couldn't be together made it worse. But standing in that house again with the father of her child's other parent fully aware she'd been a stupid fool with his daughter and gotten knocked up just made everything worse yet.
"Please sit down." he smiled, as he put down Santana’s backpack and sat down himself. When Rachel sat down, he took a breath. "You are well aware that my daughter is...special." He looked down at his hands and sighed, "Santana... Santana was born biologically male. She... he was a transgendered child and she told us at a very young age that she was a girl. Being a boy made my daughter very unhappy. She tried to... when she was five she tried to remove her penis to be like the other girls. That’s when I decided to raise her in her chosen identity." He looked up at the diva and he sighed, "My wife did not support this and when Santana almost killed herself by removing her boyhood we decided to leave and I’m raising her as my daughter. That’s who she is, that’s who she always was."
"She's Santana," Rachel shrugged, dragging her tired, sad gaze up to meet Mr Lopez's eyes, "That's who she is. It doesn't matter what's between her legs. She's Santana and one of the most compellingly beautiful girls I have ever had the fortune to know." She sighed, curling in on herself, "I didn't know that she was born a boy or any of that. She's just Santana to me. I like her, Mr Lopez. She doesn't like me. People like me," she smiled wistfully down at her twisting hands, "just don't have a chance with people as beautiful and popular as her. I pushed and I made a terrible mistake doing so and I ruined everything in the process. I just want her to be happy." She risked a glance up at him, her eyes beginning to water as she tried to smile at him, "I know I made a mistake that ruined any chance of her being happy with me, but I still want her to be happy. Is that such a bad thing?"
"Rachel?" He said softly, "Santana does like you. She spent several hours crying on me about how she ruined your life... She didn’t know that the appendage was functional." He looked at his hands and avoided the girls eyes. "She’s been on medication since she was a kid... she didn’t know that she could get you pregnant. She feels so guilty.... Santana is so scared right now. She doesn’t want to be a boy but she just accomplished the most masculine thing her body knows how to do... and that is scaring her. Do you understand that?" He asked as he looked at the other girl.
Rachel swallowed and bit her lip, "I know she's scared. I'm scared too. But she's still a girl to me, sir. I didn't think this was possible," she glanced down at her hand resting over her stomach, "but it doesn't change that she's a girl to me. It doesn't change that she's the only person I want, no matter how she's shaped under her clothes. But she said we can't be together and I can't ignore that." She took a deep breath, avoiding his eyes, "I pushed our relationship to a sexual level because I thought it was the only chance I had to be with her. That was wrong of me."
"This is my fault, sir. I've made my mistakes and I'll live with them to the best of my ability." She licked her lips, finally meeting his eyes, "I would be beyond thrilled if I could be with Santana but I am resigned to whatever I must do. I know she's scared. I know she doesn't want to be a boy, but, sir, she isn't a boy. She's a girl. A beautiful, wonderful girl who is very important to me."
"And I’m very happy you understand that... but it’s not that easy for Santana. She’s been holding onto this for years... she’s been living with this... self hatred her whole life and she doesn’t know how to take someone coming in and loving her for who she is... all of her." He smiled and moved to sit on the table in front of Rachel. He opened a photo album and picked up a picture of Santana as an three year old as a boy, with short hair looking absolutely miserable. "This is when her mother cut her hair." He smiled and pulled out a picture of Santana a few years later with little pigtails and a bright smile. "This is the day we left her mom and I told her she could be whoever she wanted to be..."
"She was adorable," Rachel smiled at the photo, unaware of just how soft and warm her expression was, "even as a scowling little tomboy." She glanced up at him with a wry smile, "I'm sorry, I know she was technically a little boy in this photo," she tapped the one of the scowling three year old, "but I simply cannot think of her as anything but as a girl. I just hope whatever this little one turns out to be is even half as cute as she was. I was an exceedingly awkward child and am not much better now, so it would be better if this little one takes after Santana instead of me."
She wasn't even thinking about what she said, distracted by the photos, "You are a wonderful father, sir. I'm glad she has you."
"I’m glad I have her." He smiled, "She’s always - always - been my little girl." He put the photos away and closed the book. "She’s got plenty of awkward pictures too, but they’re more just sad and depressing once you realize you’re looking at a depressed little girl stuck in a boy’s body." He smiled and stood up. "Alright. Why don’t you go up and see Santana. She actually asked me to get you so don’t give me the crap that she hates you or what-not." He nudged her shoulder and tilted his head to the stairs.
Rachel glanced to the stairs and bit her lip, remembering how upset Santana was the last time she was up there. She shivered, shaking her head. "I... I don't want to upset her. I promised her I wouldn't bother her anymore, sir."
Her voice trembled as she spoke. It had hurt bad enough walking away the first time - she didn't know if she was capable of doing it again. She felt raw and vulnerable where Santana was concerned, even shying away from conversations about her in school and Glee for the last week.
"She hasn't tried to contact me," she whispered, licking her lips and looking at the stairs. "I'm the one who made her feel like a boy. It's my fault she's hurting now..."
"She’s always hurting." He stated, "She’s always hurting and you made her feel normal..." He smiled, "I’m not happy that she got you pregnant, because it was irresponsible and immature, but it’s okay... I never thought I’d have grandkids..." He smiled softly and looked at the girl, "Go see Santana, I know you’re worried since I told you that she tried..."
Rachel looked tired and more than a little nervous and scared, but she rose to her feet. "O-okay," she didn't want to admit she was more afraid of Santana telling her to get out then the fact that the other girl had tried to take her life.
She paused at the bottom of the stairs glancing back at Mr Lopez with a frightened expression before slowly climbing up to the second floor. For not the first time, she wondered how she would hold herself together being rejected by the cheerleader again - especially after being pushed to face the other girl so soon after the first rejection. Her hand trembled as she reached for the doorknob, slowly turning it and easing the door open.
"Santana?" She hated that she sounded so tiny, scared and hurt, her voice wavering, "I'm sorry for bothering you. I know you probably don't want to see me but I'm afraid your father insisted. I... I'll go if you want. I don't want to bother you..."
Santana looked up from the Vogue she was flipping through and over at Rachel, smiling softly and watching her for a moment before she spoke. "Hey," she croaked, nervous at hearing her voice for the first time in a few days. She looked paler than normal, and she had bandages covering her right wrist. Santana was tucked into her bed, pillows and blankets around her. She looked just as tired as Rachel but she tried to hide it. "I’m sorry I was an ass the other day..."
Rachel shook her head with a weary smile, slipping into the room and closing the door with a soft click behind her. "You weren't. I asked too much of you. I've always asked too much of you. I'm the one who should be sorry." She leaned against the door, uncertain if she was allowed to come closer. "I never should have pushed you for sex, Santana, I should have just accepted you didn't want me like that. I'm so so sorry..."
"Rachel... did any part of my body say that I didn’t want you like that? I was a willing player in this... I had sex with you and neither of us thought of the repercussions." She said calmly, her anxiety medication working wonders. "I didn’t know I could get you... I didn’t know..."
"You may have been willing, but I still pushed when I shouldn't have." Hesitantly, she pushed away from the door to cross the room and sit on the edge of the bed. Her fingers itched to touch the Latina, but she folded them in her lap and tried to ignore it, offering a wry smile. "After all, someone as beautiful and popular as you wouldn't have been caught dead having sex with an unpretty loser like me on your own." Her eyes dropped back to her hands, the smile slowly dying as if she just didn't have the energy to keep up the facade for long.
"You’re beautiful." Santana said softly as she looked at the blanket. "I think you are beautiful." she reached out and ran her fingers over Rachel’s with her non bandaged arm. "Please forgive me for being a douche..."
Rachel carefully turned her hand over and twined their fingers together, "There's nothing to forgive, Santana. Your reactions were justified and completely understandable. I'm the one that should be asking you to forgive me, but... it's very nice of you to say, but I know I'm not beautiful." She smiled tentatively up at Santana, not quite lifting her head, "That's why I hope this baby takes after you and not me. They'll have a difficult enough time in life as the child of a teenaged mother. Better that it's evened out with attractiveness and a fierce attitude than an overbearing ego and a modest helping of talent."
"As long as all of it’s parts are in the correct places and are of the correct gender? Then yeah hopefully the kid will be normal but I don’t want it to be like me... I don’t want it to grow up like me." Santana’s tone turned serious as she spoke, her eyes diverted out the window and she took a breath. "I want to get the kid tested for like issues or whatever... If I have problems it’s likely that the kid will too and I don’t really know what the hormones did to me or whatever and..." She was rambling and trying to hide how scared she was as she spoke and tried to make everything sound normal.
"Santana, I'm Jewish." She gave the taller girl's hand a gentle squeeze, "Genetic testing is de rigueur for Jewish pregnancies because we have high risks of very severe genetic diseases. But, I want to assure you as assiduously as I possibly can that this child, no matter if they are a boy, girl, intersexed, asexual, bisexual, straight, gay... whatever. They will be loved." She took a breath, nibbling at her lower lip and glancing shyly up at Santana, "Because they're a part of you and they weren't even supposed to be possible to be conceived, so that makes them a miracle, right?" She offered a tiny smile, "All I want is for them to be happy and healthy. Everything else is just details. I want our child to just be themselves and whatever that may be, I am going to love them with every ounce of love I can muster. Because they're part of us and I couldn't do anything less."
"Okay..." Santana replied softly as she looked out the window. "Look. I don’t know how to do this... I don’t know how to tell you that I’m okay with the fact I fathered a kid with you." She stumbled over her use of the term. "But... I’m sorry... I can’t be... I don’t want everyone to know about me... Only Puck and Quinn know and my dad and you... that’s it... even they don’t fully understand okay. No one does." She sniffled as she looked at Rachel. "I’m sorry I know this sucks for you. I know we should just get an abortion or like give it up for adoption or whatever so you can go on to have a life... I just don’t know what to do okay?" She rubbed her wrist unconsciously as she spoke.
Rachel chewed on her lip for a moment, thinking things over. "Santana," she began, speaking slowly and carefully, "I already promised you I won't tell anyone. We can talk to Noah and see if he'll be a cover for us or I can just invent someone that was an unfortunate drunken incident at a party as I had already half planned on doing. But this is a life. An important one," she carefully rubbed her stomach with a soft smile, "it may be hard, but this is when it came into my life and besides," she glanced up with a tiny smirk, "this will do wonders for my auto-biography, right?" She nudged Santana with her shoulder before sobering.
"But, Santana, all I really need to know is one thing. Do you want to be this child's other parent? Obviously not the father - you're a girl - but," she glanced at Santana, shy and uncertain, "perhaps a second mother?"
"Yeah..." She said softly, "My dad more or less told me if I don’t take responsibility for my actions he’ll kick my ass." She sighed softly and looked at Rachel. "I just don’t really know if I'd be a good parent or whatever since I'm so fucked... and in like 6 months I'm not even going to be functional as a person... so I don’t even know. I want to be in the baby’s life..."
Rachel frowned in confusion, "Not functional in six months? Do you have a degenerative nerve disorder?" She gasped, eyes widening, "It's not contagious, is it?"
"No." She shook her head, "Well... yeah, it’s a disorder called Gender Dysphoria... It’s what makes my crazy fucking head think i’m a chick when I have a dick... So I’m getting the dick taken off on my 18th birthday..." She said, not really sure about what she was saying, but it’s what she knew trans kids did, they got the parts that didn’t match removed.
Rachel cocked her head to the side, regarding her curiously, "O...kay. If that's what you want. If you'd like I can be there at whatever hospital the procedure is being preformed at for you or come visit during your recovery. But I fail to see how this would render you non-functional as a person, Santana..."
"Well I’ll officially be able to become the it my mother spent 4 years referring to me as..." She sniffled as she looked down at her hands, "It’s what trans kids do... It’s what we do. First, get the surgery to scrape the cartilage out of our throat to make sure we don’t have a visible Adam’s apple... then we get breast implants." Santana said as she pointed to the scar on her throat then she cupped her breasts. "Then we get our junk cut off and we start to look like a barbie doll." She laughed callously as she pulled the papers from under her pillow and handed them to Rachel.
Rachel scanned the papers, seeing a few things that concerned her about potential problem with the surgeries involved, but what was bothering her most was the way Santana was talking about it. "Santana," she began, glancing up from the papers, "you're saying a lot about what "trans kids" do, but not much about what you want to do." She leaned over and set the papers on the nightstand. "Forget about these trans kids or anyone else. What do you, Santana Lopez, want?"
Santana rubbed her wrist again and looked away. "I don’t wanna be a boy." She said simply, knowing that her gender didn’t live in her reproductive organs, but her brain... but when your reproductive organ is hard to miss and you have to hide it everyday it become more about that then what you think you are.
"You're not a boy," Rachel's tone was matter of fact and straight to the point. "Current circumstances notwithstanding." She blushed slightly, rubbing her still fairly flat stomach, "And for what it's worth, contrary to my previous behaviors, your penis is not actually what draws me to you. It is nice, I would hardly deny that, and you are quite adept with its use as far as I'm concerned, but it's just an appendage. It doesn't make you any less of a girl to me than if you were using a strap on phallus instead. With it or without it, the Santana I like is here," she gently tapped the side of the other girl's head, "and here," she tapped her chest over her heart, "not between your lovely thighs."
"That’s very nice and trust me when I say that i understand where you are coming from... but I just don’t get it." She sighed, "I know that’s the real me is in my head or whatever... but when you have to live everyday knowing you’re in the wrong body? Knowing that my mom bailed because she didn’t want a freak for a kid? That I tried to take my dick off with scissors shaped like a panda when I was a toddler? How do you live knowing that every day?" She turned and looked in Rachel’s eyes and was almost pleading for her to understand. "I wake up every day.. every fucking day Rachel and want to die. Because, maybe, fucking maybe god will let me go into the right body in heaven...." She licked her lips trying to prevent herself from crying, but it was failing to stop the tears that were welling up in her eyes.
"You're right," Rachel whispered softly, sliding her fingers over Santana's arm to take her hand and squeeze gently, letting her head rest for a moment on the other girl's shoulder, "I don't understand, not really. All I'm trying to tell you, Santana, is that if you want to get this surgery, then do it. If you don't, do that. Whatever you need to do to be comfortable in your body, I support you, for what it's worth. I'm just trying to let you know that whatever you chose won't change how I see you or," she licked her lips and smiled shyly, "how desirable you are to me sexually. If any of that matters. With the surgery or without it, with a penis or without, to me you're still Santana. And that seems like the important part to me." She nibbled on her lip, "But none of this explains how you would cease to be a functional person with this surgery..."
"I just don’t know who I’ll be if i have it..." She said softly, "I won’t be a sexual person anymore and I’ll just be a girl in breasts... like I wont even have the ability to do any of the girly things that you’ll get to... So i just don’t understand. I don’t understand why I just can’t match my body like everyone else." She growled, getting frustrated at the inability she had to properly express how upset she was at her circumstance. "I might as well just live as a dude... it would just be easier." she sniffled and drew her knees up so she could rest her head on them and still talk to Rachel.
Rachel sighed softly and wrapped her arm around Santana's shoulders, giving her a gentle hug. "As to the first thing, that's easy. You'll still be Santana. Maybe a little calmer," she tried teasing, "but still you. Unless they're doing brain surgery, that won't change. As for you being a sexual person," she licked her lips, her cheeks coloring as she blushed, "do you enjoy it when you touch me? I'm not asking if it gives you an erection, but if you enjoy it. Mentally. Do you like the feeling of touching me like you do without your penis? Like when you," the blush darkened, her voice softening shyly, "when you use your fingers to penetrate me. Do you enjoy it? Because if you do, I don't think you'd be completely not-sexual... Maybe less, but some of what I saw in those papers said they could use part of your penis to build a functional clitoris. That wouldn't be so bad, right?" She smiled tentatively.
"Right cuz a total Frankenstein pussy is better than a dick." Santana rolled her eyes and tried to fight off the hug before giving into it. She sat for a moment thinking and with a dramatic sigh she finally spoke, "Yes, I like when I touch you. Gets me hot not just in the junk regions..." She rolled her eyes and smiled slyly. "You want me to get castrated cuz that mean more sex for you and you’ll never have to reciprocate again... I see your motivation, hobbit."
Rachel rolled her eyes and slapped the other girl's shoulder lightly, a blush staining her cheeks, "For your information, I like reciprocating with you. It," she bit her lip, ducking her head with a shy smile, "it makes me feel good to know I can make you feel good. I'll actually be sad if you stop having any desire for sex any more or if I can't reciprocate any longer. You won't have any more use for me then," she looked down at her hands, her voice trailing off as she fidgeted, twisting her fingers together in her lap.
The Latina giggled softly and patted the other girls stomach. "You’re housing my spawn in there... I’ll still need you even if I lose your favorite toy." she winked and left her hand on the baby. "I like making you feel good too..." she blushed slightly and looked down at the bedspread.
"Good to know I have some purpose beyond sex," Rachel smiled wanly, trying to make it sound like a joke but not really succeeding. "You don't have to say that, Santana. It's okay. I know I'm just a convenient outlet for sexual frustration. So if you don't have that..." She shrugged with a little smile, liking the feeling of San's slightly larger hand resting almost protectively over their child but not wanting to say it out loud in fear she'd encourage her to pull away sooner.
"I never had a need to be sexually frustrated before you..." Santana stated quietly, "Sure, Puck and I might have gotten drunk and fondled each other a few times... but that’s it... You’re the first person who I've ever been with..." she looked down and then back up. "To be honest... I kinda know your rep with dudes as of late and I just thought you wanted to get off... but then you kept coming back to me and I liked it..."
"E-ever?" Rachel looked up startled, "B-but you said to never say no! A-and... ever?" Now she felt even worse about pushing. She hadn't realized that Santana hadn't been with anyone before her. "I... Santana, I was only ever with my boyfriends. You know how long I was with Finn and Jesse. I came to you and Brittany for advice about Jesse, remember?"
She bit her lip, "I'd thought Jesse would be the one I would stay with but I didn't want him to do what he did... I couldn't stay with him after that and he never even hugged me since. Noah was more to try and keep him from trying to push me for vaginal intercourse and Finn... isn't actually capable of maintaining an erection long enough for any kind of penetrative sex. The only reason I indulged either of them after our first time was you wouldn't come to me and... Well, technically I was still dating Finn." She blushed, "I broke up with him the morning I climbed in your window and woke you up riding you..."
"I just," she worried her lip, wrapping her arms around her stomach, "most of what I was doing around you was an act." She looked miserable, "I just wanted you to notice me... to want me on some level. I didn't think I had a chance with you if I didn't offer you sex. I had a crush on you since forever but I saw you dancing and I... I... I just thought maybe someone as sexual as you was only interested in sex and," her arms tightened around herself as she looked over at the floor, "I was willing to let you use me if it meant I could be close to you. I'm such a fool," she whispered harshly, "I ruined everything..."
"I kinda don’t know what to think about that." Santana replied honestly, "I know I come off as a slut and I got Puck to talk a big game for me... but I’m not like that." She looked down at her legs, "I had never even thought about using it before, I just pretended that it didn’t exist. That whole week was so confusing. Puck and I started whatever it was we were doing and I just couldn’t control it when you were dancing and stripping onstage."
Santana swallowed as she looked sideways to her child’s mother, "I would like you to start wearing panties again... I know you think I like slutty girls or whatever but please I just want to make sure I don’t further crush any of your self worth..." She sighed and played with the blanket under her fingers. "I’m sorry the Cheerios called you tranny names. Most of them have no idea what they are saying, or what a transgendered person is... but like Quinn only did it to protect me. She was scared that they’d notice and find out and she didn’t want that for me... I know it like ruined your life but she was trying to protect me."
Rachel shrugged, not really able to bring herself to meet Santana’s gaze, feeling miserable about the choices she’d made. "It’s okay. I don’t mind. After a while, it’s just another name, you know? I’m glad you had people who cared enough about you to want to protect you," she whispered. "And I only forwent panties when they were either ruined early in the day or when I was trying to get your attention. But, well," she nibbled her lips, smoothing her hands over her denim covered legs, "I haven’t even been wearing my skirts since we, um... talked last. I know I don’t wear jeans or slacks very often, but might as well wear them while they still fit, right?" She chuckled, but it sounded almost self-deprecating.
"Stop that," she said sternly, "if both of us are gonna be miserable and pissy, this kid is gonna be fucked up more than it already will be..." she sighed. "I just don't want other people all up in my baby momma..."
"That is a terribly crude term, Santana," Rachel’s voice was prim, but the tiny smile teasing about the corner of her lips gave away the strangely pleasurable feeling of being called that by the cheerleader. "And this child," she sounded determined, "is going to be amazing. Not fucked up. Or at least," her lips twitched, "no more so than I am, having been raised by two men."
"Yeah, well I’m just raised by a dad... And hey, poor bastard get two moms and half a dad I guess..." Santana sighed as she spoke not really knowing how any of this was gonna work.
Rachel frowned, and squeezed Santana’s hand to get her attention, "Santana, the first thing I need you to do is not refer to our child by a term as vile as bastard. Maybe they were not conceived under optimal conditions but they are still a child and they’ve done nothing wrong. They will not start out their life being judged like either of us might be and especially not by us."
"I know." she looked down. "I'm not gonna say the right things or do the right things... You know that right?" Santana sighed and shifted slightly to readjust herself. "Are you like hungry? Or does being pregnant feel weird? My dad’s a doctor he can take care of you if you want..."
"No, I’m fine," Rachel smiled softly, "but thank you for asking. I’m only a couple of months along at most," she sighed, rubbing her stomach, "aside from the nausea and fatigue, I don’t feel much different than I usually do yet. Santana?" She bit her lip and smiled hesitantly at the taller girl, "I know we’re not really well, friends or anything, but... I do like you - in more than a sexual way - and, well... we have another nearly nine months to figure out how what the right things to say or do are, right?"
"We’re friends... Awkward and fuck buddies... But yeah we’re friends." she replied, they sat in silence for a few minutes before Santana needed to get up. She hopped off the bed, wearing tight black boxer briefs and a tank top as she shyly bounded into the bathroom. A few minutes later she came back out and looked in her laundry for pants. "Sorry, I haven't really worn pants in a few days... And I needed to change my bandage..."
"Oh, um," Rachel fiddled with her fingers, having moved to sit cross-legged on the bed while Santana was in the bathroom, "I suppose I should head home... I don’t wish to overstay my welcome." She smiled tentatively up at the Latina, "I am fully aware of how aggravating I can be over long periods of time and I don’t wish to strain our... friendship." Her smile warmed as said the word, brightening at the warm sensation of someone - another girl - actually calling her their friend.
"I mean, you can stay... I'm obviously not doing much," Santana shrugged and kept her eyes at her laundry instead of looking at Rachel, "Except for looking sadly at my penis and watching X-men movies... I can do both those things with you here if you wanna stay..."
"I say again - and I will keep saying it until you start to believe me - your penis does not define you. And, well," she blushed, "it is nice what you can do with it. For someone who didn’t use it before I well..." she wasn’t sure what to call what she did any more - it made her feel bad just thinking about it, "you’re quite adept. I, please don’t judge me, but I felt wanted when we had sex... If you are certain you would like me around, I suppose I could stay a little while longer." She glanced shyly at Santana, "Though I admit that I lack knowledge of what X-men movies are and I likely will not engage in sad looks at your penis, but I’ll keep you company if you want it."
"How do you not know what the X-men are?" she shook her head and popped in the first DVD and bounced back to the bed. "You like that it's fucking huge," Santana teased as she set up the movie and rested back, "but it's cool. Watch movies with me and whatever."
Rachel blushed sat with her back against the headboard next to Santana, trying to keep a distance she didn’t really want between her and the other girl as they watched the film. It was strange how easy it was to just be around the cheerleader given that all of their previous interactions had been either almost purely sexual or varying levels of unfriendly. She just wanted to be able to offer some level of comfort to her child’s other parent.
At some point during the film, she abandoned sitting up and stretched out next to Santana. A little later, her fingers drifted to dark hair, gently combing through it as the Latina’s head came to rest on her shoulder. The credits were nearly ready to roll on the film when she finally succumbed to the fatigue of her pregnancy combined with the long day and the sheer relief of knowing the other girl was - more or less - okay, her eyes falling closed as she curled around the taller girl who had fallen asleep earlier.
It was nearly an hour later when Miguel came up to check on them, peeking around the door and smiling softly - if a bit sadly - to see the unlikely pair tangled together, sound asleep, Rachel’s head somehow coming to rest on Santana’s chest. He walked quietly into the room and unfolded the blanket from the end of the bed and carefully pulled it over both of them, tucking them in before leaning down to place gentle kisses on sleeping heads. "Sleep well, girls," he whispered before heading back out, the door clicking quietly shut behind him.
Author: Sio & Maura
Rating: Hard NC-17
Length: 24,673
Spoilers: This is AU. No Beth. No Lucy. Puck/Rachel lasted for a few months instead of a week and Jesse is a bigger ass than canon. Also Santana's promiscuity implied in the canon is not in effect for this fic for reasons that will be made evident.
Pairing: Rachel/Santana, Puck/Quinn
Summary: Rachel's longed after someone since the first day they met, but will a big secret bring them together or destroy them?
Warnings (highlight to read): Gender Identity Disorder, pregnancy, angst, topping, language, voyeurism, dub-con, non-con, anal, oral, vaginal, public, fisting, size-kink, and talk of self harm
Chapter Five - Typical
She didn’t know what to do.
Rachel paced back and forth on Santana’s porch, rubbing at her forehead and biting her lip as she tried to work out the various possibilities in her mind. The only thing she was certain of was that she had to tell Santana. She wouldn’t keep it from her and - if she was entirely honest - she wanted the other girl’s help in figuring out what to do now.
Finally, she took a deep breath and centered herself as if she was going out on the stage at a full house production at the Lima Community theater and rang the buzzer. Biting her lip, she bounced on her heels, glancing nervously at the window beside the door and smiling with all the wavering confidence she could find. She was incredibly nervous, but really what else could she do? When the doorknob rattled and began to open, she clasped her hands in front of her anxiously and looked up with her best smile, hoping it would be Santana on the other side.
After a few moments the townhouse door opened and a Hispanic man in his late 30’s opened the door with a slight smile. "Hello, can I help you?" He asked as she looked at the obviously distraught girl on his stoop.
Rachel’s face almost fell but at the last moment she managed to cling to her smile. "Um, hello, Mr. Lopez? My name is Rachel Berry. I’m a, um... friend. Of Santana’s. From Glee club? Is she here?"
"Hello, Rachel Berry," He smiled and he pushed open the door to the house. "I’m Miguel Lopez, Santana’s father." He brought the girl inside out of the chilly weather. "I believe my child is upstairs napping, Cheerios takes way too much energy out of that girl."
"Ah, yes, cheerleading is quite an invigorating sport and Santana is one of our best after all." Rachel smiled up at him as best she could, feeling incredibly nervous since she was there to tell his daughter that she’d knocked her up. "Do you mind if I go up and see her, sir? I just need to talk to her about something for a little bit."
He looked down at the girl curiously, "I think that you can..." he nodded his head up towards the stairs, "Her room is the second on the right... if you’d like I’m making salad for dinner you’re more than welcome to stay."
"That’s a very generous and kind offer but I may have to head home soon," she bobbed her head with a smile and headed up the stairs feeling more nervous with every step closer to Santana’s room. Her hand fidgeted nervously over her purse - the damning sticks felt like they each weighed ten pounds in their separate plastic bags. She took a breath and knocked on the door before carefully turning the knob and easing it open.
"Santana?" She almost whispered the other girl’s name as she slipped into the darkened room, her eyes slowly adjusting until she could see the other girl stretched out on her bed. Closing the door behind her, she crossed the room - almost tripping over the Latina’s desk chair at one point - to stand beside the bed. For a moment, she hesitated at waking her, smiling softly down at the almost peaceful expression on her face, her fingers itching to brush the dark hair from her face where it had fallen from her ponytail. She bit her lip and pushed down the awkward warm feeling she felt towards the girl - the mother... father? other parent of her unborn child. Santana wouldn’t appreciate it.
"Santana? It’s Rachel... please wake up," she finally gave in to the urge to brush her fingers over the other girl’s shoulder, trying to ignore the slight tingle she got whenever she touched soft, tanned skin. "I have to talk to you..."
Santana mumbled as she tried to come out of her slumber. She had come home from Cheerios and her therapy and gone straight to her room, changed into baggy basketball shorts and an tank top and fell asleep. She curled up into herself as she clutched a bunch of papers in her hands as she sniffled in her sleep.
"Don’t wanna wake up." She mumbled as she fused her eyes closed more.
Rachel licked her lips and carefully sat on the bed behind Santana. "Santana, please wake up," she whispered. "I really do have to talk to you, it’s im... port...ant," her words trailed off as her eyes managed to pick out words on the papers clutched in Santana’s hands. Reassignment. MtF. Surgery.
Biting her lip, she looked at Santana worriedly. "Santana... what’s going on?"
Santana jolted up as she heard a voice and the bed move and she woke up. "The fuck?" santana mumbled as she pushed the papers under her pillow and she rubbed her fist into her eyes as she tried to come back to reality. "What are you doing here?"
"I needed to talk to you about something that affects both of us," Rachel bit her lip and tried not to look completely worried and anxious but she was having more and more trouble hiding her reactions around Santana. "It’s terribly important and I truly didn’t want to have this conversation in public..."
"Whats wrong?" she asked, sitting up and rolling her neck as she did so. Santana ran her fingers through her hair and tightened her ponytail. "Why do you look like you’re gonna puke?"
"I, um," Rachel dropped her eyes to her hands, unable to keep looking at Santana and just feeling terribly nervous, "Please don’t be mad. I don’t know if I could bear it if you were mad at me." She sounded scared and nervous. "I just...." She bit her lip, wringing her hands in her lap, "I didn’t think it was possible. That’s why I never insisted on protection and... oh, God... you’re going to hate me..."
Santana sniffled her head still reeling from her earlier session in the day. "Look, Rachel..." Santana stated as she crossed her legs, "I’m not really in the mood to read through the crazy right now so please just tell me what the hell you’re freaking out about."
Rachel took a deep breath and just blurted it out. "I’m pregnant. I didn’t think it was possible, but I took six different tests and they’re all positive and I don’t know what to do!"
The Latina froze, "W-what?" She stumbled over her words. Santana never thought about the repercussions of her actions. "P-puck got you pregnant?" She asked, almost hoping that Rachel would tell her that it was her best friends child and not hers. That she wouldn’t have to deal with that issue.
Rachel shook her head, looking scared, "N-no... I told you, I’ve only... I’ve only been with you like that. I... I’m sorry, Santana... I’m so sorry..."
"I... it’s not possible!" Santana jumped off the bed and started pacing around the room. "I can’t. It’s not real. It doesn’t work like that!" Santana yelled, "I’m not a fucking boy... I can’t..." at that moment Santana looked in the mirror and slammed her fist into it.
Rachel flinched, "I’m sorry! I know you’re not a boy! I didn’t mean for this to happen! I didn’t think it could! Please don’t be mad, Santana. Please!" She was crying. She didn’t want to cry, but she was scared and she couldn’t seem to help it. "I... I’ll," she bit her lip almost hard enough to bleed, hating herself for even thinking about what she was about to offer, "I’ll get rid of it..." She sounded broken just forcing the words out.
Santana fell to the ground with a sob as she pulled her knees to her chest. She just looked at Rachel for several minutes as she rocked back and forth. "I... I’m a boy." She whispered out into the eerily quiet room. She just accomplished the single most masculine thing a person could do, and it also just caused the facade that she had allowed herself to build for the last 17 years crumble down around her.
Rachel gathered the shreds of her tattered confidence and crawled off the bed and over to Santana. Even though her heart was breaking at the idea of getting rid of the child they’d made, she wrapped her arms around Santana, "You’re not... you’re a girl. It happens sometimes. A freak accident. I’ll," her voice caught, cracking, "I’ll get rid of it. I won’t tell anyone else. Only you and I have to know this even happened. You’re a girl, Santana..."
Santana sniffled as she tried to not break down anymore. "No." she stammered, "You can’t. You can’t kill it... it’s real." Santana whimpered, her Catholic upbringing coming into light as she spoke. "Don’t kill it because of me."
Rachel rested her cheek on the top of Santana’s head and rubbed her back, "I know it’s real." She whispered, as if talking any louder would bring the fragile almost calm crashing down, "I don’t want to kill it. It’s ours, Santana... I know you don’t want it to be, but it is. I... I’ll talk to Noah. Maybe I can convince him to tell people it’s his. I just... I want to make this right for you. I’m sorry..."
"I’m sorry I ruined your life." Santana whimpered as she sniffled in Rachel’s arms. "I’m sorry... I didn’t know I could... I didn’t think... I should have known... I forgot... I forgot it’s real... I forgot it can do things." She babbled as she spoke, not really talking to anyone in particular.
"You didn’t ruin my life," Rachel wasn’t entirely certain she believed it, but she wanted Santana to, "you improved it. Okay, perhaps getting pregnant wasn’t in my life plan for another eight years, but I can work with that. Improv is spice of life, right?" She chuckled waterily, just holding the other girl close as she seemed to be breaking apart in front of her. "I don’t regret any of it, Santana. I promise you I don’t. I don’t know how I would ever get a beautiful girl like you interested in a loser like me after all."
"I’m a freak." Santana mumbled, pulling away and moving back to her bed. "Maybe... Maybe you should go and let Puck think he had sex with you and got you pregnant... you can be with him and be normal." Santana looked up almost hopeful that she’d give her best friend all the glory of getting the beautiful diva pregnant and she could continue to be a coward and hide. "If you want... you can do that... no one will know."
"But I don’t want Noah," Rachel whispered, looking far more fragile than she had earlier, "I’ll pretend for public if you want me to... but I don’t want him. I haven’t been with him in any way for months, Santana. Don’t you know I want you? But... but if that’s what you want." She drew away, her shoulders slumping. She felt awful and rejected - again - by a woman she wanted in her life. "I don’t want Noah. I want you... but if you don’t want me, I don’t know what I can do."
"I’m.. i’m not right." She explained the best she could. "I can’t be what you want. I can’t even be normal! I don’t know how to make you understand but you can’t be with me. Not until i’m right... I’m not right okay? We made a mistake, I never wanted to use it like that. I never... I never wanted to use it!" Santana almost yelled, pissed at herself as she gave into her physical wants more then her emotional and mental needs.
"I'm sorry," Rachel's arms wrapped around her stomach, her voice tiny, sad and a little scared. "I... I pushed you. It was wrong of me. This is all my fault."
She felt sick and hated herself more than she ever had in that moment. She liked Santana - if she was honest with herself, she really liked her - and she'd completely ruined any chance she might ever have had with her because she'd been too stupid to think it was possible to become pregnant with what they were doing - had been doing anyway, Rachel rather doubted Santana would even want to look at her again, let alone touch her in a sexual manner - and didn't even think to use protection.
"I'm sorry, Santana," she sniffled, getting to her feet, "I won't tell anyone anything. You don't have to worry. This is my fault... I'll fix it. I," she worked her jaw trying not to cry, "I really liked you, you know... I thought maybe we could," she shook her head, shrugging the idea off as pointless, "never mind. I'll," she risked a sad glance at the Latina, "I'll see myself out. I'll try not to bother you anymore, Santana. I know it doesn't mean anything but, I'm really sorry..."
Santana looked up, tears streaming out of her eyes. "Please don’t kill the baby." She whimpered, her voice cracking as she did so. "Please. I’ll help take care of it just don’t kill it. Please. God hate me enough, please don’t." She was pleading, her condition was god-given but she had always assumed god hated her. "Please..."
Rachel paused in front of the door before she opened it and shook her head. She didn't turn around, afraid that if she looked at Santana, she'd lose control and start crying. "I won't. I promise. I'll figure something out. You," her voice cracked, making her pause to swallow and try to clear her throat, "you don't have to do anything, Santana. I'll just," she shrugged, "make up a story. I'm fairly good at that. I can do this on my own if I have to. You don't have to be a part of anything you don't want to be. I just," she bit her lip, hand trembling slightly on the door knob, "I wanted you to know. I'm sorry. Please thank your father for inviting me to dinner, but I really can't stay..."
It was all too much. Santana just looked back down at the floor. Ashamed of herself, ashamed of her body and ashamed that she should stand up and take honor in the child that she helped produce, but she knew she couldn’t. She hadn’t thought it was possible to get someone pregnant. Santana just looked at the floor, attempting to try to fight herself.
"I’m sorry." She choked as she watched Rachel’s feet carry the mother of her child out of the room.
Rachel didn't want to see anyone after she closed the door to Santana's room softly behind her. Everything just hurt. She'd known she didn't really have a legitimate chance of winning the beautiful Latina's affections, but she had let herself pretend and hadn't thought about how much it would hurt when the rejection she'd finally received came. All she wanted to do was get home. She hurried down the stairs and slipped out the front door without even pausing to say goodbye to the friendly gentleman who'd greeted her earlier. She just ran, as fast as she could, back towards her home, taking the shortcut through the cemetery to avoid anyone who could be out that evening.
Santana hadn’t come to school in over a week. Rumors had spread of illness and jail time, but when the Latina’s father came into Glee and talked quietly to Mr. Schuster is when Quinn and Puck started to get worried.
Puck quickly hurried over to the older man when he was getting ready to leave the room. "Mr. Lopez, Sir... Where’s San? Is she okay?"
"Santana is okay. She’s just sick, she’ll hopefully be back at school soon." He lied to his daughter's friend, "I’ll tell her to call you when she feels up to it." Puck sighed as he slinked back to his seat.
Mr. Lopez eyes fell onto the small diva who had shook his house to the core a week back. He sighed, noting the dark circles around the girl's eyes and her vacant look. He wanted to talk to her, he needed to talk to her about his child’s well being. "Ms. Berry? May I speak to you for a moment?" He called out, "You have class with Santana and I need clarification on her assignment."
Rachel looked up at the genial older man and attempted a smile. "Certainly, Mr Lopez." She gathered her things carefully and climbed to her feet, crossing the room to stand beside him. "I don't really know what I could possibly clarify better than our instructor, but anything for an ill classmate," she tried the lackluster smile again, following him out of the room. Biting her lower lip, she asked softly, "How is she? Really."
Everyday Santana hadn't come to school, Rachel had felt a little more lost. She hadn't realized how much she had come to depend on seeing the other girl's sardonic smirk or hearing her laugh or cut someone with her words until there was a hole where the Latina had once been in her life. She liked her and she was the other parent of the child growing under her heart, but it had been made fairly clear to her that Santana didn't want her. And it broke her heart, but she still wanted her to be okay and as happy as possible. Something she just seemed to drive further away from the beautiful girl.
"My child decided to try to kill herself again, Ms. Berry." He said softly, "Luckily, I know her better than she knows herself and I got to her before she could hurt herself too badly." He ran his fingers through his hair. "Santana is my whole world," he exhaled and looked down at the young mother to be. "Much like my grandchild will be your whole world..." he said knowingly as he looked at the girl's stomach. "I think that you and Santana need to talk... but I know that she won't tell you. So why don’t you come to the house and you can see her..."
Rachel had started physically shaking as soon as the words that Santana had tried to kill herself - again - sank in. All she could do was stare wide-eyed at Mr Lopez and shake her head. "N-no, I... I can't. She doesn't want me or," her hand went over her belly, "It was just a mistake. I just make things worse, Mr Lopez. I don't want her to hurt herself because of me again..."
She was trying not to cry, but her emotions were getting harder and harder to keep in check. "She doesn't want me," she whispered, shaking her head and staring at the ground, "better that I should stay away..."
He looked down tiredly, "Santana is very confused... She has had to deal with a lot since she was a child." He sighed and looked up, "My daughter wants to be around you, but she thinks she ruined everything by following her instincts" he titled his head, "I want to explain everything to you, and so does she but she’s scared."
He touched Rachel’s shoulder and smiled sadly, "I need you to understand why Santana is taking this so hard... I can’t tell you here though."
Rachel was scared to go back to the house where everything came apart, but she nodded slowly, hugging herself. "O-" she swallowed against the thick feeling in her throat, "okay. I'll go. I'll listen. I just..." she shook her head, trembling and sounding even smaller than she was as she whispered, "I don't want to be rejected anymore..."
He smiled sadly, "Neither does she." He waited for the smaller girl to gather her belongings from her locker before heading back to the house that his daughter plain refused to leave.
After Miguel escorted Rachel into the house, he quickly headed upstairs to check on Santana before coming back down. "She’s still sleeping." He smiled fondly, honestly just glad that his child was sleeping and not dead. "I’m sorry about all of this, Rachel." He said as he picked up one of the books from the shelf and put it on the coffee table. "Would you like some tea or something to eat?"
She shook her head, standing awkwardly in the entrance to the living room, clutching the strap of her bag with both hands, speaking softly, "No, Mr Lopez, that's quite alright." She felt off-balance and out of place. Nothing seemed quite right since she'd seen positive marks on all six tests - she'd barely even been able to sing. Santana insisting their making a child together was a mistake and they couldn't be together made it worse. But standing in that house again with the father of her child's other parent fully aware she'd been a stupid fool with his daughter and gotten knocked up just made everything worse yet.
"Please sit down." he smiled, as he put down Santana’s backpack and sat down himself. When Rachel sat down, he took a breath. "You are well aware that my daughter is...special." He looked down at his hands and sighed, "Santana... Santana was born biologically male. She... he was a transgendered child and she told us at a very young age that she was a girl. Being a boy made my daughter very unhappy. She tried to... when she was five she tried to remove her penis to be like the other girls. That’s when I decided to raise her in her chosen identity." He looked up at the diva and he sighed, "My wife did not support this and when Santana almost killed herself by removing her boyhood we decided to leave and I’m raising her as my daughter. That’s who she is, that’s who she always was."
"She's Santana," Rachel shrugged, dragging her tired, sad gaze up to meet Mr Lopez's eyes, "That's who she is. It doesn't matter what's between her legs. She's Santana and one of the most compellingly beautiful girls I have ever had the fortune to know." She sighed, curling in on herself, "I didn't know that she was born a boy or any of that. She's just Santana to me. I like her, Mr Lopez. She doesn't like me. People like me," she smiled wistfully down at her twisting hands, "just don't have a chance with people as beautiful and popular as her. I pushed and I made a terrible mistake doing so and I ruined everything in the process. I just want her to be happy." She risked a glance up at him, her eyes beginning to water as she tried to smile at him, "I know I made a mistake that ruined any chance of her being happy with me, but I still want her to be happy. Is that such a bad thing?"
"Rachel?" He said softly, "Santana does like you. She spent several hours crying on me about how she ruined your life... She didn’t know that the appendage was functional." He looked at his hands and avoided the girls eyes. "She’s been on medication since she was a kid... she didn’t know that she could get you pregnant. She feels so guilty.... Santana is so scared right now. She doesn’t want to be a boy but she just accomplished the most masculine thing her body knows how to do... and that is scaring her. Do you understand that?" He asked as he looked at the other girl.
Rachel swallowed and bit her lip, "I know she's scared. I'm scared too. But she's still a girl to me, sir. I didn't think this was possible," she glanced down at her hand resting over her stomach, "but it doesn't change that she's a girl to me. It doesn't change that she's the only person I want, no matter how she's shaped under her clothes. But she said we can't be together and I can't ignore that." She took a deep breath, avoiding his eyes, "I pushed our relationship to a sexual level because I thought it was the only chance I had to be with her. That was wrong of me."
"This is my fault, sir. I've made my mistakes and I'll live with them to the best of my ability." She licked her lips, finally meeting his eyes, "I would be beyond thrilled if I could be with Santana but I am resigned to whatever I must do. I know she's scared. I know she doesn't want to be a boy, but, sir, she isn't a boy. She's a girl. A beautiful, wonderful girl who is very important to me."
"And I’m very happy you understand that... but it’s not that easy for Santana. She’s been holding onto this for years... she’s been living with this... self hatred her whole life and she doesn’t know how to take someone coming in and loving her for who she is... all of her." He smiled and moved to sit on the table in front of Rachel. He opened a photo album and picked up a picture of Santana as an three year old as a boy, with short hair looking absolutely miserable. "This is when her mother cut her hair." He smiled and pulled out a picture of Santana a few years later with little pigtails and a bright smile. "This is the day we left her mom and I told her she could be whoever she wanted to be..."
"She was adorable," Rachel smiled at the photo, unaware of just how soft and warm her expression was, "even as a scowling little tomboy." She glanced up at him with a wry smile, "I'm sorry, I know she was technically a little boy in this photo," she tapped the one of the scowling three year old, "but I simply cannot think of her as anything but as a girl. I just hope whatever this little one turns out to be is even half as cute as she was. I was an exceedingly awkward child and am not much better now, so it would be better if this little one takes after Santana instead of me."
She wasn't even thinking about what she said, distracted by the photos, "You are a wonderful father, sir. I'm glad she has you."
"I’m glad I have her." He smiled, "She’s always - always - been my little girl." He put the photos away and closed the book. "She’s got plenty of awkward pictures too, but they’re more just sad and depressing once you realize you’re looking at a depressed little girl stuck in a boy’s body." He smiled and stood up. "Alright. Why don’t you go up and see Santana. She actually asked me to get you so don’t give me the crap that she hates you or what-not." He nudged her shoulder and tilted his head to the stairs.
Rachel glanced to the stairs and bit her lip, remembering how upset Santana was the last time she was up there. She shivered, shaking her head. "I... I don't want to upset her. I promised her I wouldn't bother her anymore, sir."
Her voice trembled as she spoke. It had hurt bad enough walking away the first time - she didn't know if she was capable of doing it again. She felt raw and vulnerable where Santana was concerned, even shying away from conversations about her in school and Glee for the last week.
"She hasn't tried to contact me," she whispered, licking her lips and looking at the stairs. "I'm the one who made her feel like a boy. It's my fault she's hurting now..."
"She’s always hurting." He stated, "She’s always hurting and you made her feel normal..." He smiled, "I’m not happy that she got you pregnant, because it was irresponsible and immature, but it’s okay... I never thought I’d have grandkids..." He smiled softly and looked at the girl, "Go see Santana, I know you’re worried since I told you that she tried..."
Rachel looked tired and more than a little nervous and scared, but she rose to her feet. "O-okay," she didn't want to admit she was more afraid of Santana telling her to get out then the fact that the other girl had tried to take her life.
She paused at the bottom of the stairs glancing back at Mr Lopez with a frightened expression before slowly climbing up to the second floor. For not the first time, she wondered how she would hold herself together being rejected by the cheerleader again - especially after being pushed to face the other girl so soon after the first rejection. Her hand trembled as she reached for the doorknob, slowly turning it and easing the door open.
"Santana?" She hated that she sounded so tiny, scared and hurt, her voice wavering, "I'm sorry for bothering you. I know you probably don't want to see me but I'm afraid your father insisted. I... I'll go if you want. I don't want to bother you..."
Santana looked up from the Vogue she was flipping through and over at Rachel, smiling softly and watching her for a moment before she spoke. "Hey," she croaked, nervous at hearing her voice for the first time in a few days. She looked paler than normal, and she had bandages covering her right wrist. Santana was tucked into her bed, pillows and blankets around her. She looked just as tired as Rachel but she tried to hide it. "I’m sorry I was an ass the other day..."
Rachel shook her head with a weary smile, slipping into the room and closing the door with a soft click behind her. "You weren't. I asked too much of you. I've always asked too much of you. I'm the one who should be sorry." She leaned against the door, uncertain if she was allowed to come closer. "I never should have pushed you for sex, Santana, I should have just accepted you didn't want me like that. I'm so so sorry..."
"Rachel... did any part of my body say that I didn’t want you like that? I was a willing player in this... I had sex with you and neither of us thought of the repercussions." She said calmly, her anxiety medication working wonders. "I didn’t know I could get you... I didn’t know..."
"You may have been willing, but I still pushed when I shouldn't have." Hesitantly, she pushed away from the door to cross the room and sit on the edge of the bed. Her fingers itched to touch the Latina, but she folded them in her lap and tried to ignore it, offering a wry smile. "After all, someone as beautiful and popular as you wouldn't have been caught dead having sex with an unpretty loser like me on your own." Her eyes dropped back to her hands, the smile slowly dying as if she just didn't have the energy to keep up the facade for long.
"You’re beautiful." Santana said softly as she looked at the blanket. "I think you are beautiful." she reached out and ran her fingers over Rachel’s with her non bandaged arm. "Please forgive me for being a douche..."
Rachel carefully turned her hand over and twined their fingers together, "There's nothing to forgive, Santana. Your reactions were justified and completely understandable. I'm the one that should be asking you to forgive me, but... it's very nice of you to say, but I know I'm not beautiful." She smiled tentatively up at Santana, not quite lifting her head, "That's why I hope this baby takes after you and not me. They'll have a difficult enough time in life as the child of a teenaged mother. Better that it's evened out with attractiveness and a fierce attitude than an overbearing ego and a modest helping of talent."
"As long as all of it’s parts are in the correct places and are of the correct gender? Then yeah hopefully the kid will be normal but I don’t want it to be like me... I don’t want it to grow up like me." Santana’s tone turned serious as she spoke, her eyes diverted out the window and she took a breath. "I want to get the kid tested for like issues or whatever... If I have problems it’s likely that the kid will too and I don’t really know what the hormones did to me or whatever and..." She was rambling and trying to hide how scared she was as she spoke and tried to make everything sound normal.
"Santana, I'm Jewish." She gave the taller girl's hand a gentle squeeze, "Genetic testing is de rigueur for Jewish pregnancies because we have high risks of very severe genetic diseases. But, I want to assure you as assiduously as I possibly can that this child, no matter if they are a boy, girl, intersexed, asexual, bisexual, straight, gay... whatever. They will be loved." She took a breath, nibbling at her lower lip and glancing shyly up at Santana, "Because they're a part of you and they weren't even supposed to be possible to be conceived, so that makes them a miracle, right?" She offered a tiny smile, "All I want is for them to be happy and healthy. Everything else is just details. I want our child to just be themselves and whatever that may be, I am going to love them with every ounce of love I can muster. Because they're part of us and I couldn't do anything less."
"Okay..." Santana replied softly as she looked out the window. "Look. I don’t know how to do this... I don’t know how to tell you that I’m okay with the fact I fathered a kid with you." She stumbled over her use of the term. "But... I’m sorry... I can’t be... I don’t want everyone to know about me... Only Puck and Quinn know and my dad and you... that’s it... even they don’t fully understand okay. No one does." She sniffled as she looked at Rachel. "I’m sorry I know this sucks for you. I know we should just get an abortion or like give it up for adoption or whatever so you can go on to have a life... I just don’t know what to do okay?" She rubbed her wrist unconsciously as she spoke.
Rachel chewed on her lip for a moment, thinking things over. "Santana," she began, speaking slowly and carefully, "I already promised you I won't tell anyone. We can talk to Noah and see if he'll be a cover for us or I can just invent someone that was an unfortunate drunken incident at a party as I had already half planned on doing. But this is a life. An important one," she carefully rubbed her stomach with a soft smile, "it may be hard, but this is when it came into my life and besides," she glanced up with a tiny smirk, "this will do wonders for my auto-biography, right?" She nudged Santana with her shoulder before sobering.
"But, Santana, all I really need to know is one thing. Do you want to be this child's other parent? Obviously not the father - you're a girl - but," she glanced at Santana, shy and uncertain, "perhaps a second mother?"
"Yeah..." She said softly, "My dad more or less told me if I don’t take responsibility for my actions he’ll kick my ass." She sighed softly and looked at Rachel. "I just don’t really know if I'd be a good parent or whatever since I'm so fucked... and in like 6 months I'm not even going to be functional as a person... so I don’t even know. I want to be in the baby’s life..."
Rachel frowned in confusion, "Not functional in six months? Do you have a degenerative nerve disorder?" She gasped, eyes widening, "It's not contagious, is it?"
"No." She shook her head, "Well... yeah, it’s a disorder called Gender Dysphoria... It’s what makes my crazy fucking head think i’m a chick when I have a dick... So I’m getting the dick taken off on my 18th birthday..." She said, not really sure about what she was saying, but it’s what she knew trans kids did, they got the parts that didn’t match removed.
Rachel cocked her head to the side, regarding her curiously, "O...kay. If that's what you want. If you'd like I can be there at whatever hospital the procedure is being preformed at for you or come visit during your recovery. But I fail to see how this would render you non-functional as a person, Santana..."
"Well I’ll officially be able to become the it my mother spent 4 years referring to me as..." She sniffled as she looked down at her hands, "It’s what trans kids do... It’s what we do. First, get the surgery to scrape the cartilage out of our throat to make sure we don’t have a visible Adam’s apple... then we get breast implants." Santana said as she pointed to the scar on her throat then she cupped her breasts. "Then we get our junk cut off and we start to look like a barbie doll." She laughed callously as she pulled the papers from under her pillow and handed them to Rachel.
Rachel scanned the papers, seeing a few things that concerned her about potential problem with the surgeries involved, but what was bothering her most was the way Santana was talking about it. "Santana," she began, glancing up from the papers, "you're saying a lot about what "trans kids" do, but not much about what you want to do." She leaned over and set the papers on the nightstand. "Forget about these trans kids or anyone else. What do you, Santana Lopez, want?"
Santana rubbed her wrist again and looked away. "I don’t wanna be a boy." She said simply, knowing that her gender didn’t live in her reproductive organs, but her brain... but when your reproductive organ is hard to miss and you have to hide it everyday it become more about that then what you think you are.
"You're not a boy," Rachel's tone was matter of fact and straight to the point. "Current circumstances notwithstanding." She blushed slightly, rubbing her still fairly flat stomach, "And for what it's worth, contrary to my previous behaviors, your penis is not actually what draws me to you. It is nice, I would hardly deny that, and you are quite adept with its use as far as I'm concerned, but it's just an appendage. It doesn't make you any less of a girl to me than if you were using a strap on phallus instead. With it or without it, the Santana I like is here," she gently tapped the side of the other girl's head, "and here," she tapped her chest over her heart, "not between your lovely thighs."
"That’s very nice and trust me when I say that i understand where you are coming from... but I just don’t get it." She sighed, "I know that’s the real me is in my head or whatever... but when you have to live everyday knowing you’re in the wrong body? Knowing that my mom bailed because she didn’t want a freak for a kid? That I tried to take my dick off with scissors shaped like a panda when I was a toddler? How do you live knowing that every day?" She turned and looked in Rachel’s eyes and was almost pleading for her to understand. "I wake up every day.. every fucking day Rachel and want to die. Because, maybe, fucking maybe god will let me go into the right body in heaven...." She licked her lips trying to prevent herself from crying, but it was failing to stop the tears that were welling up in her eyes.
"You're right," Rachel whispered softly, sliding her fingers over Santana's arm to take her hand and squeeze gently, letting her head rest for a moment on the other girl's shoulder, "I don't understand, not really. All I'm trying to tell you, Santana, is that if you want to get this surgery, then do it. If you don't, do that. Whatever you need to do to be comfortable in your body, I support you, for what it's worth. I'm just trying to let you know that whatever you chose won't change how I see you or," she licked her lips and smiled shyly, "how desirable you are to me sexually. If any of that matters. With the surgery or without it, with a penis or without, to me you're still Santana. And that seems like the important part to me." She nibbled on her lip, "But none of this explains how you would cease to be a functional person with this surgery..."
"I just don’t know who I’ll be if i have it..." She said softly, "I won’t be a sexual person anymore and I’ll just be a girl in breasts... like I wont even have the ability to do any of the girly things that you’ll get to... So i just don’t understand. I don’t understand why I just can’t match my body like everyone else." She growled, getting frustrated at the inability she had to properly express how upset she was at her circumstance. "I might as well just live as a dude... it would just be easier." she sniffled and drew her knees up so she could rest her head on them and still talk to Rachel.
Rachel sighed softly and wrapped her arm around Santana's shoulders, giving her a gentle hug. "As to the first thing, that's easy. You'll still be Santana. Maybe a little calmer," she tried teasing, "but still you. Unless they're doing brain surgery, that won't change. As for you being a sexual person," she licked her lips, her cheeks coloring as she blushed, "do you enjoy it when you touch me? I'm not asking if it gives you an erection, but if you enjoy it. Mentally. Do you like the feeling of touching me like you do without your penis? Like when you," the blush darkened, her voice softening shyly, "when you use your fingers to penetrate me. Do you enjoy it? Because if you do, I don't think you'd be completely not-sexual... Maybe less, but some of what I saw in those papers said they could use part of your penis to build a functional clitoris. That wouldn't be so bad, right?" She smiled tentatively.
"Right cuz a total Frankenstein pussy is better than a dick." Santana rolled her eyes and tried to fight off the hug before giving into it. She sat for a moment thinking and with a dramatic sigh she finally spoke, "Yes, I like when I touch you. Gets me hot not just in the junk regions..." She rolled her eyes and smiled slyly. "You want me to get castrated cuz that mean more sex for you and you’ll never have to reciprocate again... I see your motivation, hobbit."
Rachel rolled her eyes and slapped the other girl's shoulder lightly, a blush staining her cheeks, "For your information, I like reciprocating with you. It," she bit her lip, ducking her head with a shy smile, "it makes me feel good to know I can make you feel good. I'll actually be sad if you stop having any desire for sex any more or if I can't reciprocate any longer. You won't have any more use for me then," she looked down at her hands, her voice trailing off as she fidgeted, twisting her fingers together in her lap.
The Latina giggled softly and patted the other girls stomach. "You’re housing my spawn in there... I’ll still need you even if I lose your favorite toy." she winked and left her hand on the baby. "I like making you feel good too..." she blushed slightly and looked down at the bedspread.
"Good to know I have some purpose beyond sex," Rachel smiled wanly, trying to make it sound like a joke but not really succeeding. "You don't have to say that, Santana. It's okay. I know I'm just a convenient outlet for sexual frustration. So if you don't have that..." She shrugged with a little smile, liking the feeling of San's slightly larger hand resting almost protectively over their child but not wanting to say it out loud in fear she'd encourage her to pull away sooner.
"I never had a need to be sexually frustrated before you..." Santana stated quietly, "Sure, Puck and I might have gotten drunk and fondled each other a few times... but that’s it... You’re the first person who I've ever been with..." she looked down and then back up. "To be honest... I kinda know your rep with dudes as of late and I just thought you wanted to get off... but then you kept coming back to me and I liked it..."
"E-ever?" Rachel looked up startled, "B-but you said to never say no! A-and... ever?" Now she felt even worse about pushing. She hadn't realized that Santana hadn't been with anyone before her. "I... Santana, I was only ever with my boyfriends. You know how long I was with Finn and Jesse. I came to you and Brittany for advice about Jesse, remember?"
She bit her lip, "I'd thought Jesse would be the one I would stay with but I didn't want him to do what he did... I couldn't stay with him after that and he never even hugged me since. Noah was more to try and keep him from trying to push me for vaginal intercourse and Finn... isn't actually capable of maintaining an erection long enough for any kind of penetrative sex. The only reason I indulged either of them after our first time was you wouldn't come to me and... Well, technically I was still dating Finn." She blushed, "I broke up with him the morning I climbed in your window and woke you up riding you..."
"I just," she worried her lip, wrapping her arms around her stomach, "most of what I was doing around you was an act." She looked miserable, "I just wanted you to notice me... to want me on some level. I didn't think I had a chance with you if I didn't offer you sex. I had a crush on you since forever but I saw you dancing and I... I... I just thought maybe someone as sexual as you was only interested in sex and," her arms tightened around herself as she looked over at the floor, "I was willing to let you use me if it meant I could be close to you. I'm such a fool," she whispered harshly, "I ruined everything..."
"I kinda don’t know what to think about that." Santana replied honestly, "I know I come off as a slut and I got Puck to talk a big game for me... but I’m not like that." She looked down at her legs, "I had never even thought about using it before, I just pretended that it didn’t exist. That whole week was so confusing. Puck and I started whatever it was we were doing and I just couldn’t control it when you were dancing and stripping onstage."
Santana swallowed as she looked sideways to her child’s mother, "I would like you to start wearing panties again... I know you think I like slutty girls or whatever but please I just want to make sure I don’t further crush any of your self worth..." She sighed and played with the blanket under her fingers. "I’m sorry the Cheerios called you tranny names. Most of them have no idea what they are saying, or what a transgendered person is... but like Quinn only did it to protect me. She was scared that they’d notice and find out and she didn’t want that for me... I know it like ruined your life but she was trying to protect me."
Rachel shrugged, not really able to bring herself to meet Santana’s gaze, feeling miserable about the choices she’d made. "It’s okay. I don’t mind. After a while, it’s just another name, you know? I’m glad you had people who cared enough about you to want to protect you," she whispered. "And I only forwent panties when they were either ruined early in the day or when I was trying to get your attention. But, well," she nibbled her lips, smoothing her hands over her denim covered legs, "I haven’t even been wearing my skirts since we, um... talked last. I know I don’t wear jeans or slacks very often, but might as well wear them while they still fit, right?" She chuckled, but it sounded almost self-deprecating.
"Stop that," she said sternly, "if both of us are gonna be miserable and pissy, this kid is gonna be fucked up more than it already will be..." she sighed. "I just don't want other people all up in my baby momma..."
"That is a terribly crude term, Santana," Rachel’s voice was prim, but the tiny smile teasing about the corner of her lips gave away the strangely pleasurable feeling of being called that by the cheerleader. "And this child," she sounded determined, "is going to be amazing. Not fucked up. Or at least," her lips twitched, "no more so than I am, having been raised by two men."
"Yeah, well I’m just raised by a dad... And hey, poor bastard get two moms and half a dad I guess..." Santana sighed as she spoke not really knowing how any of this was gonna work.
Rachel frowned, and squeezed Santana’s hand to get her attention, "Santana, the first thing I need you to do is not refer to our child by a term as vile as bastard. Maybe they were not conceived under optimal conditions but they are still a child and they’ve done nothing wrong. They will not start out their life being judged like either of us might be and especially not by us."
"I know." she looked down. "I'm not gonna say the right things or do the right things... You know that right?" Santana sighed and shifted slightly to readjust herself. "Are you like hungry? Or does being pregnant feel weird? My dad’s a doctor he can take care of you if you want..."
"No, I’m fine," Rachel smiled softly, "but thank you for asking. I’m only a couple of months along at most," she sighed, rubbing her stomach, "aside from the nausea and fatigue, I don’t feel much different than I usually do yet. Santana?" She bit her lip and smiled hesitantly at the taller girl, "I know we’re not really well, friends or anything, but... I do like you - in more than a sexual way - and, well... we have another nearly nine months to figure out how what the right things to say or do are, right?"
"We’re friends... Awkward and fuck buddies... But yeah we’re friends." she replied, they sat in silence for a few minutes before Santana needed to get up. She hopped off the bed, wearing tight black boxer briefs and a tank top as she shyly bounded into the bathroom. A few minutes later she came back out and looked in her laundry for pants. "Sorry, I haven't really worn pants in a few days... And I needed to change my bandage..."
"Oh, um," Rachel fiddled with her fingers, having moved to sit cross-legged on the bed while Santana was in the bathroom, "I suppose I should head home... I don’t wish to overstay my welcome." She smiled tentatively up at the Latina, "I am fully aware of how aggravating I can be over long periods of time and I don’t wish to strain our... friendship." Her smile warmed as said the word, brightening at the warm sensation of someone - another girl - actually calling her their friend.
"I mean, you can stay... I'm obviously not doing much," Santana shrugged and kept her eyes at her laundry instead of looking at Rachel, "Except for looking sadly at my penis and watching X-men movies... I can do both those things with you here if you wanna stay..."
"I say again - and I will keep saying it until you start to believe me - your penis does not define you. And, well," she blushed, "it is nice what you can do with it. For someone who didn’t use it before I well..." she wasn’t sure what to call what she did any more - it made her feel bad just thinking about it, "you’re quite adept. I, please don’t judge me, but I felt wanted when we had sex... If you are certain you would like me around, I suppose I could stay a little while longer." She glanced shyly at Santana, "Though I admit that I lack knowledge of what X-men movies are and I likely will not engage in sad looks at your penis, but I’ll keep you company if you want it."
"How do you not know what the X-men are?" she shook her head and popped in the first DVD and bounced back to the bed. "You like that it's fucking huge," Santana teased as she set up the movie and rested back, "but it's cool. Watch movies with me and whatever."
Rachel blushed sat with her back against the headboard next to Santana, trying to keep a distance she didn’t really want between her and the other girl as they watched the film. It was strange how easy it was to just be around the cheerleader given that all of their previous interactions had been either almost purely sexual or varying levels of unfriendly. She just wanted to be able to offer some level of comfort to her child’s other parent.
At some point during the film, she abandoned sitting up and stretched out next to Santana. A little later, her fingers drifted to dark hair, gently combing through it as the Latina’s head came to rest on her shoulder. The credits were nearly ready to roll on the film when she finally succumbed to the fatigue of her pregnancy combined with the long day and the sheer relief of knowing the other girl was - more or less - okay, her eyes falling closed as she curled around the taller girl who had fallen asleep earlier.
It was nearly an hour later when Miguel came up to check on them, peeking around the door and smiling softly - if a bit sadly - to see the unlikely pair tangled together, sound asleep, Rachel’s head somehow coming to rest on Santana’s chest. He walked quietly into the room and unfolded the blanket from the end of the bed and carefully pulled it over both of them, tucking them in before leaning down to place gentle kisses on sleeping heads. "Sleep well, girls," he whispered before heading back out, the door clicking quietly shut behind him.