Gleecember 2025
December 02 – Pocket
xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo
One of the boys was crying, the other was spitting up, and Santana was slowly losing her mind.
Yes, she and Brittany wanted children. But she'd always thought they'd have time to prepare for them not get thrown into the deep end without even a floatie.
The past twenty-four hours had been a whirlwind of phone calls to lawyers and police, emergency hearings with judges and social workers. Frantic calls to Quinn and Mike to sit with and try to soothe the two hungry, wet, miserable babies while Santana and Brittany went on the fastest trip through Target on record. Fucking December first. Four days after Thanksgiving and the store was absolute chaos.
“BRITT!” Her voice was louder than she'd intended and caused the boy she was cradling to cry harder.
Brittany appeared in the doorway of their bedroom – where Santana was ripping apart every bag and box they had with one hand while cradling the baby in the other.
“What are you looking for?” Brittany had bags under her eyes and looked like she was about to tear her hair out.
“Pacifiers. I know we bought them,” she went back to a box she'd already emptied … twice.
“No, we didn't. Check your coat pocket.”
“What? Why would they be in my … Oh my god! Britt! Did I shoplift those binkies?” Santana was horrified; what if the media got ahold of that? What if someone saw her … what if …
“Santana! Probably. They kept sliding off the cart and you put them in your pocket so we wouldn't lose them and then we, obviously, forgot about them.” Brittany sighed and slumped into the chair in the corner of the room. The little guy she was holding had stopped spitting up and was drifting off – only to be startled awake when his twin screamed. Which started him crying.
Santana set the baby on the bed, surrounded by pillows, and ran downstairs.
Sure enough, there in her coat pocket was a package of four binkies. She hurried back upstairs, tore the package open, and was about to give one to the screaming baby when Brittany stopped her.
“They should be boiled in water to kill any germs.”
Santana shook her head and walked into the bathroom. She turned the tap on and let the water run until it was steaming, then she ran all four under the hot water, scalding her fingertips. She rinsed them in cold water and went back into the bedroom.
“That'll have to do,” she told Brittany as she picked up the crying boy and gave him the pacifier.
Ah. Sweet silence.
