landsliding

Title: Maybe All This Time We've Been Held Down
Chapter: 1/1
Word Count: 7,900
Pairing(s): Finn/Rachel, smidge of Finn/Santana
Summary: Finn and Rachel are together and have to deal with the consequence of something within Finn and Santana's previous relationship. That something may or may not be a baby. Maybe.
Disclaimer: Don't own. Title from 'What We Want' by Bess Rogers.

He thinks his life is one of those walking clichés sometimes, but only because that's what his mom tells him when she invites him and his girlfriend over for dinner Sunday night and asks him if he'd mind putting down his fork next to the coconut cream pie he was like, just going to take a bite into because she 'needs to have a word'. Words are never good, not when they're said like that.

Anyway, he grips Rachel's shoulder, takes a step away from the table, and when she looks at him unknowingly, he says, "she's probably gonna yell at me for not picking up my laundry or something. Who knows. Be back soon, okay?" 

Rachel picks at her pie in silence, stabbing her fork through the crust like, three times until he walks into the kitchen and shuts the door behind him.

"Finn," his mom greets. She's all propped up against the counter, a bottle of unopened Yellow Tail in one hand. It's Rachel's favorite wine, and Carole always keeps it around whenever the two of them come over. "Hi sweetie. Sit."

"Mom, I've been here for like, two hours," he starts, shaking his head. He sits anyway, folding both of his hands together and placing them on the tabletop. 

She sits, too, and she's like, smiling at him. Not the usual, 'you're my son and I love the fact that you're twenty-three and still come to dinners at my house on Sunday' smile, though. She looks sort of sympathetic, and then she reaches out a hand and grips onto his folded hands tightly, taking a breath and like, shutting her eyes all dramatically. "Um, sweetie, you do know what happened last year, right?"

He shrugs, biting the inside of his cheek. "The Giants won the Super Bowl. Oh, and I got my first teaching job, which is like, pretty important too, I guess."

She shakes her head and looks like she's disappointed or whatever, and sure, he knows full well what happened last year, but who's to say he can't cover it up with some humor? Like, she doesn't get it, does she? He really hates talking about it, and everyone involved hates talking about it, and Rachel, she doesn't even know and he kind of wanted it to stay that way even though most of their conversations go like, 'no secrets, alright?' and they're actually pretty good at following that 'cause they tell each other like...everything.

"I know," he finishes, letting out a huff. "Santana told me she'd call you if I didn't get to you first. Evidently, I didn't." His mom just keeps shaking her head, and that makes him like, super uncomfortable. "She didn't want me in her life, alright? If she wanted me involved with, you know, her and the baby, she would've called me sooner. She wouldn't have waited until Arielle's first birthday to call, she wouldn't have."

Carole grips onto his hands tighter, her lips quivering. She looks like she's gonna cry or something. He should be the one crying. "It's not easy, raising a baby all by yourself. I did it, but every single day I had to list reasons in my head of why giving up would never be the best option." He feels her hand tense. "And was it? Never. But some days, doing it alone, Finn...I couldn't. Neither can she."

"I have a girlfriend," he answers. He thinks about Rachel for a second, sitting at the table in the dining room all by herself, the way she awkwardly jabbed her fork through a piece of pie because he knows she's too uneasy to eat like, alone. He doesn't blame her. He and his mom just kind of stormed into the kitchen and stuff.

"That's no excuse. You should've thought about that before —"

"Before Rachel and I broke up for four months and Santana was the only person there?" He can like, hear his pulse. It's scary-sounding. His mom looks raged, even if she's hiding it with a bitten-down lip and tears in her eyes. It's there. He slips one hand out from under his mom's, placing it behind his neck all uncomfortably. "Rachel knows we slept together. Many times. She doesn't know about Arielle 'cause Santana didn't want her to. 'S for the best."

"Finn, sweetie, you don't get it." No, he doesn't. "Santana would've loved for you to be a part of Arielle's life. Hell, she would've probably liked to raise her with you in the same house. But it just so happened that by the time she found out she was pregnant, you were already back with Rachel, where you always go back to."

He stands up. "Is that a problem? That's my girlfriend, mom."

"You said that already, sweetheart." Her cheeks are burning red, and she looks like she wants to cry for him. She probably does, he knows how she is. "You should talk to her. Santana. With Rachel, even." He shakes his head. Hell no. "You're going to have to break the news to Rachel one day or another, Finn. Sweetheart, you have a baby with another woman. And sure, maybe Rachel could go her whole life knowing that the man she loves impregnated another girl in the time that the two of you were broken up, but what about Arielle? She needs a dad, doesn't she? Even if that dad can't be with her mom, doesn't want to be with her mom. She needs one. Everyone does."

His chest hurts, and he leaves the room before he really starts to cry or something. He hates crying in front of his mom, in front of Rachel. His cheeks are flushed, he knows, and he feels like throwing up. He walks past the dining room with no intention of sitting down, not until Rachel stands up. She has her coat in her arms and she shouts for Carole and asks if she'll please pack some leftovers.

"Anything," Carole answers. "Take the rest of the pie. It's Finn's favorite."

Finn walks over to her, gripping a hand around her upper arm. "You wanna leave already? We don't —"

"You look distraught," Rachel observes, one of her hands reaching up and stroking his cheek. He's all stubbly, but she usually likes it when his face is unshaven. She gives him a soft smile. "I wanna go home and sleep. I have work early tomorrow, so."

"Yeah, we'll go," he says, nodding along with her. He starts to play with the back of her hair when the two of them walk in the kitchen. Carole smiles, hands Rachel two tupperware containers and says she doesn't even need them back. "Thanks, mom," he answers, grabbing both containers from Rachel 'cause he'd never make her hold anything. He's not a jerk. "We'll probably visit um, next Sunday. Sounds good, right Rach?"

Rachel turns around fully so she's facing him completely, and she nods, and then stands on her toes and kisses him flat on the mouth even though his mom is like, four feet away from both of them. They've never been discreet about PDA. "Mm, that's a good idea," she says when she pulls away, quickly rubbing her lips together. The stickiness of her lip gloss is like, all over his mouth, and he's blushing.

"Maybe you can bring more people next time," Carole suggests. Rachel shoots a brow up, confused, and Finn's hand tenses as he brings it to the back of Rachel's shoulder, rubbing his palm against the fabric of her satin top. "It gets lonely around here when all your step-father does is run that stupid tire shop."

"Well, we wouldn't want you to be lonely, right Finn?" Rachel turns to him, biting down on her lip. "I'll see what I can do, maybe convince a few old friends to join us or something."

Finn says, "I think it's fun with just us; me, you and Rach. But, um, I mean, sure, if you want." His mom's nodding now, and then he swears she mouths the words 'tell her' to him, nodding her head over to Rachel once Rachel turns her body completely around, but his head is pounding too hard and he doesn't think any sound'll come out of his mouth if he brings himself to ask.

He keeps quiet the entire car ride back to their apartment, Rachel squeezing at his knee the entire time. It's like she knows something is off.

——

She slips off her top and skirt quickly, laying them across their bed. "Babe, remind me to put those in the hamper after my shower, okay? I have to get the laundry done tomorrow."

He nods. He doesn't even really hear what she's saying. He's propped up against the headboard, one of Rachel's old quilts over his knees, and he's got a bowl of grapes in his lap that he's like, barely even picking at. Rachel takes note to that, walks over to his side of the bed, sits down and picks at them herself.

She's sitting against him in just a bra and lace underwear. Like, he loves that underwear. Yet his knee is shaking, and he steadies a hand to the small of her back, and he's trying to ignore the way she's biting down on her lip. He does. She's probably going to ask him to come shower with her or something. He's not in the mood. 

"I love going to your mom's place," she starts, leaning back into the headboard a bit, shoving two grapes in between her lips. He looks straight in her eye. "Don't you?"

He shrugs. "Rachel, I have to tell you somethin', and you um, you can't get mad."

She sighs, taking one hand and digging into the grape bowl, picking one up and placing it up to his mouth. He doesn't take it, just shakes his head, and she looks like, offended. He doesn't mean to piss her off. "Usually," she starts, "when people tell you not to get mad, it's only because what they're about to tell you is bound to get you so mad you'll end up crying by the time they finish their sentence. Am I right?"

"You're Rachel Berry," he says with a snicker. "You're always right."

"I know, but —"

"Rach," he interrupts, "listen." She raises a brow, and he reaches his arms out and pulls her into his lap. "You know how Santana and I like, you know, messed around around two years ago when you and I took a break or whatever?"

She nods tensely. She probably doesn't like to think about it or whatever, and like, he doesn't blame her. 

"She um, she was," he starts but doesn't finish. Rachel lifts a hand up and runs a finger through his hair, and he hates that she's so affectionate with him when he's trying to tell her something this shitty 'cause all he wants to do is stop talking and hold her in his lap and kiss her until he leaves those little bruises by her neck she always whines about the next morning. "Rachel, Santana was pregnant with my baby."

Rachel's eyes go numb. "You...you said 'was', right?" She shakes her head like it's unbelievable. It kind of is. "Did she, you know, did she...abort?"

He shakes his head. "She told me she wanted nothing to do with me. She told me she'd raise the kid by herself 'cause I'm too much of a fuck up to be around something so innocent." His voice cracks. "I'm not a fuck up, Rachel, right?"

Rachel probably doesn't know how to answer this, but 'cause she's the most precious thing ever, she shakes her head and closes her eyes tight. She's crying, and he feels so shitty. "You're not a screwup, baby." He loves how she doesn't swear. He loves her so much. "What I don't get, though," she pauses, and that's because she's like, about to sob, and he brings a hand up to cup the back of her neck, "is why she'd tell someone like you to stay out of it. Was she scared?"

He sighs. "So scared."

"Have you ever met the, um, the —"

"Arielle," he finishes. "The baby's name is Arielle. Pretty, right?"

Rachel nods her head silently. Her eyes are all wet. "You should talk to Santana," she suggests. He should, but he can't. Not after the bitch shut him out for the entire duration of her pregnancy and the first year of Arielle's life. No. Way. "I'll go with you if you want."

"You?" He doesn't mean it in a, 'well, why do you have to come?' way at all. He's just shocked 'cause any other girlfriend would dig in the closet, throw out a suitcase and set the kitchen timer for a half hour while he packs his shit. Rachel doesn't. "Rachel, how the hell aren't you pissed at me right now?"

She shuts her eyes, shaking her head. She's biting down on her lip. "Sure, I'm aggravated at the fact the both of you kept this from me. I mean, I haven't talked to Santana in so long, but Jesus Christ." Jesus Christ is right. Finn feels bad at the way Rachel's shaking her head right now. She looks like she's about to puke. "Finn, Arielle is yours just as much as she is Santana's. She'd be about one now, right?"

"Just over."

"You don't wanna miss anymore of her life, do you?" He doesn't. "My mom missed the first sixteen of mine, then came back and left quicker than you can say the words 'bad parent'." Her smile is crooked when she says that, and Finn knows her. He knows her so much, and how she's using everything she has right now not to burst into tears in the middle of their bed. "I'd love to meet her," she says, head ducked. "I'm sure she's beautiful."

"Me too."

——

"Hey Santana. I know this voicemail is probably the most awkward thing like, ever, but both my mom and my girlfriend told me to call you 'cause it's most likely the right thing to do, and I'm tired. I'm tired of screwing up, or not being good enough. I wanna know things. I wanna know how Arielle's doin', if she's talking and walking and doing all of that stuff one-year-olds are supposed to be doing. I wanna know why shutting me out of your and Arielle's lives was easier for you, 'cause while it seemed easier for me, too, it's not. I feel like shit every single day 'cause I have a daughter and yet I'm sitting around in the apartment I share with my girlfriend like we're just some perfect, modern-day couple who...well...share an apartment. We are, Rachel and I. We're doin' good, and one day I'm gonna marry her and we're probably gonna have a kid or two of our own, but you, Santana, you mean somethin' to me, too. And I'm not gonna continue this, this shutting out bullshit. So, um, call me back, 'cause I'd really like to meet my kid. And see you. I miss you most days."

——

"You have one new voicemail," Rachel says lowly, turning to her side and grabbing his phone off of the night table. It's lit up and it reads '12:51' and like, who the hell leaves a voicemail on someone's phone at almost one o'clock in the morning? Whatever. "I'll go in the other room if you want to listen to it alone or something."

He waves his hand to her, climbing out of the comforter they're using and turning on the lamp. Rachel cringes at that. "Sorry. Go back to sleep. I'll be in the kitchen. I'm thirsty anyways, so."

"I get it," she says, sitting upward a bit. Her hair's all messed up in the back. It's cute. "I would want to be alone, too."

"Rachel."

"No, I'm not mad." How the hell is she not mad? She must be pretty good at holding it all in, because she just sits up with this little smile across her lips, hands folded in her lap and asks him to bring her back some ginger ale. "Mm, goodnight. I'm tired."

"I love you Rachel."

"I know you do," she answers sleepily.

He nods back at her, then pulls his phone out of the pocket of his robe he just before shoved it into, hitting the voicemail button.

"I don't even know why I'm calling at this time. I'm sorry. I'm sure you have better things to do than listen to a voicemail from the person who shut you out of her life for like, two years. I didn't just shut you out to be a stupid bitch, alright? I shut you out because I was fucking scared, Finn. You try being pregnant at twenty-two with nothing but a shitty waitressing job and a few college credits to your name. Oh, not to mention I'm still living at my parents' place 'cause diapers cost a fuck load of money. Anyway, I'm not calling you for that. For...for money. I guess I just wanted you for company, because believe it or not, the two of us have a little girl together." There's a pause, and then it sounds like she starts crying or something. He's only seen her cry once, and that's when the both of them got shitfaced drunk at Noah Puckerman's eighteenth birthday that she started vomiting on the stairs and threw up on his shoes. She felt bad or whatever. This isn't that kind of crying. "She's, um, beautiful. Arielle. She changed my life, 'cause when I come home from work there's a little girl sleeping in my guest bedroom. Not a guest bedroom anymore, though. It's a nursery, and when I was pregnant my mom helped me paint it yellow and pink and she told me I should put butterflies on the wall 'cause all little girls are supposed to like butterflies. I don't think she does, though, because she cried when I bought her a butterfly mobile." He gulps. It all feels too real, and like, it is. "She needs you, Finn. But not as much as I need you. I can't do this shit alone anymore, even though I went all M.I.A. and told you that fucking out of my life would be better. It isn't. Just...talk to me again, or something. You should meet her." There's another long pause, and he's about to click his phone off and go back to bed. "Oh, and I miss you too. Most days."

——

Finn invites Santana and Arielle to come over to his and Rachel's place Friday night, and he's going like, crazy, 'cause what if everything goes wrong? What if Santana backs out and uses some lame excuse about working an extra shift? What if she doesn't bring Arielle because it's too soon and he isn't supposed to meet her like this? What if Rachel shouldn't even be here? (He doesn't ask that one out loud. He'd feel too guilty.)

Rachel's bent over the stove, wearing that cute little apron she bought herself as a 'just because Hanukkah gift' last year. It has something weird like hens on it, and really, only Rachel could rock it. It's tied in a bow in the back, and her hair is all up in a ponytail. She looks gorgeous when she cooks. She freaks out when he sneaks behind her, knocking her elbow into his chest. He steadies her, and then presses his lips to the top of her hair. 

"What'cha makin'?"

She presses her lips together, eyes squinted, like she's got to think or something. It's all right in front of her, and, well, how could she forget what she's been cooking for the past four hours? It's adorable, though, so he doesn't say anything.

She claps her hands together. "Um, well, you said Santana was big on chicken and rice, right? I know I'm a vegetarian, but we could play it differently for one night. It won't kill me."

"Baby..."

"I, um, I even marinated the chicken the way you told me I should. It's good. I tasted it, you know, just a sample." She looks proud, hands untying at the back of her apron. She can't reach, though. "Um, can you...can you get it?"

He does. "You know, I love you so much Rachel."

"You tell me all the time," she says, head ducked, "I know. And I love you too."

"No, like...okay, you're just...the best." She raises a brow, and he goes on. "'Cause like, what other girlfriend who just found out her boyfriend has a kid with someone else would slave away in a kitchen for four hours —"

"Five," she intrudes, tongue between her teeth as she tries not to look too proud or laugh.

"Five hours. What other girlfriend would go out of her way to make sure everything's perfect 'cause her boyfriend is too nervous to make sure for himself?" She blushes, and he's only telling the truth. "Rachel, you're like...perfect. Beyond it. I'm just so thankful that you're not mad at me, or that you haven't kicked me out and told me to go fix my family with Santana and the baby, and, you know. You're just perfect, and frankly, I probably don't deserve it."

They get a call then, and Rachel jumps to answer the phone, but then sees it's Santana's number and hands it to Finn instead.

"You...you can't? Yeah, but Santana, Rachel went out of her way to do all of that, and...Okay. I understand, I guess. Next time."

Rachel shakes her head when he hangs up, putting a hand to his shoulder. "Dinner for two?"

——

The first time he meets her is on accident. Well, coincidence. Whatever. Santana's in town because she's got a dentist appointment and her dentist is close to his and Rachel's place, and the tire on her car gets flat two blocks near their building. 

It just so happens Finn worked in his step-dad's tire shop for the entire last year of high school, so like, he knows what he's doing. She shoots him a text, he shoots one back, and then calls her and gives her their address, tells her her car'll be fine if she drives it a few more blocks.

"Where's Rachel?" Santana asks, looking around as she steps out of the front seat.

"Hey to you, too," Finn snickers, shaking his head as he pulls in the door behind him. He puts a hand behind his neck. It's been almost two years since he's last seen her. She looks the same, maybe a little more tired. He looks past her, though, and he sees the little car seat from the back window, but it's sort of tinted and there's no way he can see Arielle from there. "Um, you can go inside if you want. It'll take me a good twenty minutes to patch up your tire. You've got a spare in the trunk though, right?"

"Maybe." That doesn't help. "I'm gonna take Arielle out now. You should um, you should see her before your hands get all...you know...tire-y."

He scrunches his nose, a crooked smile on his lips. He wants to see her, he does. He anxiously pockets his hands, digging his heels into the ground as Santana opens the back door to her car, grabbing the baby out. He's not shocked the baby's dressed in a cute little royal purple dress, tights and these cute Mary Janes he could swear Rachel still keeps in her closet. When Santana pivots around, he gets a better look at her. She's sleepy, but her eyes flutter open and closed, and she's sucking on her thumb. Bad habit, but still adorable. Santana shuts the door with one hand, the baby one on side of her as she holds Arielle by the back.

"Finn, this is Arielle. Well, no shi —" She stops herself because she knows he'll call her out on cursing in front of a one-year-old. "You can hold her, but don't be shocked if she squirms, 'cause she's sleepy and hungry."

He takes a good look at Arielle before grabbing her. Her complexion is a mix of the both of theirs, not nearly as dark as Santana but like, ten times tanner than Finn and his paleness. Her lips are pursed out, as full as Santana's only a little less pronounced. She's got these cute, chubby little cheeks that are all red and marked like she's just been leaned up against a car seat. Oh wait. Anyway, she's the most beautiful thing ever, and it doesn't take him not ten seconds to realize it. Yeah, everyone's supposed to be biased toward their kids, but he just can't believe he's actually seeing his in person, you know?

He shakes his head, biting the inside of his cheek. "She looks tired. I don't wanna confuse 'er. I'll um, I'll hold her next time, okay?"

Santana looks like he may as well have punched her. "Do you mind if we go upstairs? Which, um, which floor?"

"Eighth." He nods over to the door. "Look for the name 'Hudson' and Rachel'll buzz you in. She's in the living room, so." He shuffles his feet on the ground a bit, looking more at the flat tire in the back of her car than to her. It's awkward, but that's not just his fault.

Santana nods and walks forward like she's going, but then turns around. Arielle's head is dangling on her shoulder. Santana bites down on her lip, eyes squinted. "Hey Finn?"

"What's up?"

"Does Rachel hate me?"

He thinks about it for a second. "You know what, she probably does. But she won't say anything to you, or even to me, 'cause she's just like that." Santana looks ticked off. "W'do'u expect, San?" He cringes at the use of that nickname, 'cause he's pretty sure he called her that when...well...you know. "For someone whose boyfriend has a kid with someone else — someone who bullied her like she was bein' paid to in high school — she's doing pretty good."

"Do you love her the same way you always have?"

He knows the answer, but he doesn't know how to answer. Not to Santana. With a hand behind his neck, he squints a little bit. The sun is in his eyes. "I love her. I love her as much as a fuck up like me who's got a baby with another girl can love a woman."

Santana looks stunned by the answer, but he's not going to change it just to please her. Not at all.

(Inside, he can't help but think of the answer she really wanted to hear.

He creates like, twenty different possible scenarios in his head the entire time he's changing her tire.)

——

"She's gorgeous."

"I know."

Rachel laughs, leaning her head back into the couch cushion lazily, one finger lifting up to toy with the necklace she's wearing across her neck. It says 'Finn' in gold plated and she's had that thing since like, junior year of high school. "She kept playing with my necklace," she continues. "I said, 'Arielle, that's your daddy's name!' and she'd clap her hands together like she knew, even though she probably doesn't because, really, what one-year-old knows their daddy's name?"

He laughs too, scrunching his nose. He rests a hand on Rachel's thigh lightly, stroking her bare leg up and down. She's wearing a nightgown, which is like, his and her favorite. "Do you hate her?" Rachel's eyes bulge as if to say, 'the baby?!', but Finn just shakes his head and clarifies. "Um, not the baby. No one hates a baby, unless you're like...the devil or somethin'." She looks relieved, blowing an 'o' with her lips. "Santana. Do you hate Santana?"

Rachel shakes her head like she doesn't want to say anything, and even though Finn most likely knows the answer, he still begs for one anyway, his hand still grazing her thigh a little more roughly. She starts to cry, though, and she isn't fooling him, because he knows his girlfriend, and he knows like, exactly what she's thinking. 

"You're jealous." It's not a question, either.

She purses her lips, shakes her head some more, and tries to swipe her tears with her forearm. She fails and just leans into the couch, sobbing lightly. "I just...It's not fair, you know? The one time we think we're ending our relationship for good — which, we never do — someone just so happens to get knocked up. And of course you're the father to this...this beautiful little girl." He feels like crying with her. "Jesus, Finn. She looks like you, a little bit. I couldn't help but think that when I was holding her; what a perfect mix she is between you and Santana."

He doesn't know how to make her feel better. He should, 'cause she's his girlfriend and he adores her and everything, he does, but he just doesn't know what to say. "Um, if it helps, I can't stand the thought of being with Santana," he says. "As like, a couple."

"Doesn't matter," she says, shaking her head. The dried tears stop right at her nose. "You and her still have a bond you and I will never have." She takes a breath and shuts her eyes, and he feels like shit just looking at her. "I'm sorry for sounding so stupid, but I didn't expect any of this." He didn't either. "I just...I thought you and Santana lost touch because you just, you know, lost touch. Little did I know a baby was involved." She takes another long breath. "You know, the funny thing is at first, I was excited for you. But I can't sit around pretending this is the greatest discovery ever; that you're suddenly expected to play the father figure role to Santana's baby after almost two years of her shutting you out completely."

He narrows his eyes, gulping harshly. "Rachel, I'm not just," he pauses, shaking his head, "I'm not 'playing' the father figure. I am Arielle's father, and hell, I'm doing the right thing before someone can accuse me of doing the wrong thing, okay? So if you don't like it, then...well...I don't know what to tell you, because I don't see how it's possible for you to like it. No one would."

Her jaw tenses, and she says, "Finn, just...just sleep here on the couch, okay?"

He does, and he knows she shouldn't, that he should fight back with her and the both of them should sleep in their bed together like they do every. fucking. night. But he doesn't. He doesn't even kiss her goodnight or anything, just tosses a blanket over himself and tells her to 'get sleep', whatever the hell that's supposed to mean.

——

Santana surprisingly invites him over for coffee, and she apologizes because she has nothing but those stupid tea cookies her mom likes to keep around the house. He eats four of them with his tea, says it's cool 'cause Rachel does all of the grocery shopping and he'd never eat if not for her. 

Arielle is asleep in her room, and Finn held for a little when he got there, but Santana said she better put her down because she got like, no sleep the night before. She has a cold. Finn watched Santana rock her to sleep for a little bit, and then she turned to him and asked him if he'd go get Arielle's medicine in one of the cabinets she can't reach without standing on a stool. He did, and then winced when Santana started to squeeze drops into Arielle's nostrils. She started crying, and he just can't deal with crying babies. He feels too bad.

Anyway, now the two of them are sitting at the island in Santana's kitchen on stools, and they're sipping tea and just like, talking, because Santana says they 'should've caught up a long time ago'.

"How's everything?" She asks him. It's small talk, but whatever.

"Define 'everything'." They both laugh, and he shakes his head and starts to tap his finger onto the side of his mug. "Um, no, everything is good. I mean, work is good, home is...you know...good. For the most part."

Santana knows something's up, though. He doesn't know how, but whatever. She scoots over in her stool a little bit, gripping his arm with one hand and leaning her head on his shoulder. He doesn't move away. With a sigh, she says, "I get why Rachel's jealous." 

"You...you do?"

She nods, lips pressed. "That four months you two were, you know, 'broken up'? You can't say there weren't feelings there, Finn. Feelings between you and me." No, no he can't. "Sure, you were a good beer pong partner and sexing you up after parties was always fun, but what about the sober sex?"

"San...Santana. Stop."

She doesn't, because she's the most stubborn bitch he knows. "You said you loved me, and then we made out in your car after that one time Puckerman's party got cancelled due to his stupid ass being on like, house arrest, remember? And when I asked you, 'what about Rachel?' you looked at me like I had three heads and brought me upstairs to your room when you insisted we drive back to your place 'cause it was getting late. Before we had sex I asked you if everything was over between you two, and you said it was, that you didn't care if you ever saw her again."

"Santana."

"That's the thing, Finn. That's just it." She's not exactly smirking, but she looks pretty satisfied for someone who's retelling a story that's supposed to be...well...not satisfying. Not for him, anyway. "There was a point in time where you wanted me, and I wanted you too, and we had sex on your bed — totally sober sex — without protection because you said to 'fuck it', that Rachel 'wouldn't see anything coming'. We were gonna have a relationship, you and I, and then bam! I accidentally get knocked up and the both of us what nothing to do with each other. It wasn't just me."

"Santana, the only reason I even thought about coming back here was for her, for Arielle."

Santana gulps heavily, and she scoots away from him completely, turning in her chair. 

"Four months of a mistake doesn't mean I'm about to throw away the girl I've loved since I was sixteen," he tells her. He knows his teeth are gritted, and he pockets his hands tensely, and yeah, maybe he's being a dick, but she needs to understand him even though she's too fucking stubborn to. "One day I'll do things right with her, with Rachel. We'll get engaged, then married, and then we'll have kids together 'cause that's what we want to do."

Santana snickers, shaking her head, her glance dropping low. "You're a bastard, did you know that? You may as well march into Arielle's room, grab her out of her crib and tell her she's a mistake."

"Santana." He grabs onto her wrist, but she doesn't budge. Angrily, she stands up from her stool, almost knocking her filled cup of tea right into him. "Where the fuck are you going? Your house is tiny, don't think I can't find you in like, seven rooms."

She turns around to him, and it's her turn to yell at him right in the face, teeth gritted and hands rummaging the top of her hair, pushing it away from her forehead. "You," she starts, "are totally wrong for me, and thank God I shut you out of my life before I did something stupid like...like fall in love with you. You're not the person for me; we're not the person for each other." He knows that all too well. "You're Arielle's father, and that's not going to change, and frankly, I don't want that to change. But you and I? I am so fucking glad we never worked out."

"Ditto."

—–

"Finn, you're not supposed to feel sorry for me." He does, though, but he never admits it out loud. She shakes her head, pushing his hand away from hers. "I'm sorry for the way I've been acting, for the way both of us have been acting, but a silly piece of silver won't change that."

"It's not supposed to change it," he says, shrugging. He pockets the hand he's holding the ring box in. "It's supposed to make it better."

"I told you not to spend all of your money on me," she lectures, a brow raised as he moves closer to her. She's sitting on top of the countertop, legs open, and he's standing in between. He pulls his hand from his pocket, whispers for her to take it, and then watches her shake her head. "I'm sure it's beautiful."

"It is. My mom helped me pick it out."

"She knows too, huh?"

He furrows his brow. "Knows what, baby?"

She lets her legs dangle off the edge, and she slips on her ass, and instead of laughing like she's doing, he just scoops her up and props her back up. She's red in the cheeks. "That the two of us have been fighting. That's embarrassing. I don't want your mom thinking our relationship is so...is so fucked that the two of us are fighting."

"One, whoa, you never curse. Cool. Two, we're not 'fucked', babe. You have every reason to be pissed at me lately, alright?" He pauses, rubbing his hands together. "And three, normal couples fight until they make each other like, cry sometimes. If we didn't fight, we wouldn't give a damn, and that's not good either."

She rolls her eyes jokingly. "So cliché."

"Like everything else in my life." It's true. "Um, should I ask you to marry me now, or?"

She nods, lips pressed together. She (of course) starts to cry, just like she always does. "You should. I want a speech." She lifts her left arm up to her viewing, tapping on her watch. "Four minutes. Go."

——

Santana never dials him first, so this is like, super rare. "I got a job interview. Friday, six o'clock, something in public relations. I took a few classes in college, so I should be good to go."

"Good luck," he says in one breath. "Oh, and I asked Rachel to marry me," he says in another.

"At least one of us gets to end up happy, huh?"

"W'do'u even mean by that, San? You're not...you're not happy?"

Before she can answer, she says, "I have to go. Baby duty."

——

Santana asks him to babysit Friday, six o'clock, but he has some parent conference at school. He corrects her first though, says, "and hey, it's not babysitting. She's my kid too, y'know."

She hesitates to answer. "Can...Can Rachel do it?"

He lifts the phone away from his ear. Rachel's sitting on the couch watching Gilmore Girls re-runs and sobbing into her ice cream because, 'Rory and Logan are perfect, okay?' and he just nods, says, "I'll ask her. I don't think she'd mind. She's pretty good with kids."

And she is, because Santana drops Arielle off at like, 5:42 with a baby bag (it's Louis Vuitton, and of course she'd have their baby's things in a brand name bag) and Rachel scoops her up, puts a hand to Santana's shoulder and says, "Santana, don't worry, she'll be fine. I won't let Finn change her diaper, because I know he sucks at it." And the two of them look back at Finn and smirk, and Rachel apologizes: "Sorry baby, but she should know the truth."

He scrunches his nose, shrugging at Santana. "I can read with her, cook for her and stack those funny looking logs into a house for her, but I'm not good at that...that 'mom' stuff."

"A year later and I'm not so good at that 'mom' stuff either." Santana nudges into Finn's side, and before he can tell her differently, she grips onto the doorknob, says, "you two have fun with her. You too, baby." She nods at Arielle, and Arielle squirms in Rachel's grip. "And um, Rachel?" Rachel raises a brow. "You look great with her, and...you are great with her. So thank you."

Finn knows why Santana's thanking her, 'cause here Rachel is holding the baby Finn and Santana made together with a smile on her face and a Louis Vuitton diaper bag draped over one shoulder. She doesn't have to be a good sport about it, but she is.

The ring on her left hand stands out when she rocks Arielle in her arms the most, though.

He knows it's there for a reason, even if that reason is covered up with ex-girlfriends, babies, diaper bags, and like, a shit load of confusion about everything else. It's good there.

——

"So Rachel's practically like...like a second mom to 'er, right?"

"Santana, no. Don't say that."

"I never said it was a bad thing, Finn."

"Oh. Good."

——

They call it 'family bonding time'. Or, at least, that's what Rachel writes on that big ass calendar she's been hanging on the fridge for months in her big, loopy handwriting with a heart over her 'i's instead of dots. Finn kind of smirks when he sees it, but he thinks it's cute 'cause Rachel never officially declares herself part of the 'family'. Her engagement ring says enough, though. Enough so that she comes to things that Finn and Santana would normally go to alone with Arielle. It's kind of weird, the three of them walking around with this cute little baby all of the time, but Finn doesn't mind or anything, and he never tells Rachel to back off because she's not doing anything wrong other than like, trying to help. And she does.

They all take Arielle to the zoo, and Santana holds her nose and laughs when they get to the giraffes, because believe it or not, they smell like shit. Of course they're Arielle's favorite, though, because she claps her hands and tries to say, "more, more!" and then Rachel pulls her out of her stroller, hoists her up on her torso and says, "those are the smelly ones, baby!" Arielle loves them because she doesn't know the difference.

Kind of like the three of them.

She's got Finn, who jokes around with her and plays peek-a-boo more often than not when they're sitting at the dinner table on Sundays and it's all of them together. Santana tells him to 'cut the shit', to 'let her eat her damn peas', but he does anyway, and sometimes they stick their tongues out at each other and he wouldn't have it any other way.

She's got Santana, who does all of the hard stuff like remember to feed her on time before she gets whiney, rock her before she gets cranky. All that stuff. Finn and Rachel call her 'Super Mom' sometimes, and it makes her shake her head, laugh, and tell them both to shut the fuck up before she goes all 'Super Pissed' on their ass.

And then she's got Rachel, who plays Patty Cake with her before her nap and brings home coloring books with princesses in them because 'every little girl should have a princess coloring book'. Arielle knows her mom and dad, they know that, but she doesn't seem to mind Rachel either. 

No one minds.

——

"You and Rachel are good to us," Santana starts. She's about to get all sappy on him, he can feel it. When she's done, he'll laugh at her and say, 'told you so!' because she claims she never cries. Liar. She does a little sniffle, and then continues. "I was hesitant at first. I didn't want you guys in mine or Arielle's life." He gulps. "But then I called your mom. She told me to talk to you, that I should work things out because even if you pulled away, a part of you always wanted to be a father to your daughter."

He shrugs. Well, yeah, of course he wanted to be a father to his kid. It's his kid.

"And when I see you with her, sometimes I like, you know, regret not calling you a long time ago. Or...Or even letting you be there when I was pregnant with her." She takes a long pause, taking in a breath. "But other times, I'm glad it worked out the way it did, because you would've never had a chance with Rachel if it were for me and for Arielle. She would've never taken you back if she knew. And yeah, maybe a tiny part of me wanted to end up with you because it would've been convenient, and a little bit easier, but a big part of me is glad you and Rachel've got each other, 'cause you two work. I know it, both of you know it, hell even Arielle knows it."

He nods, pocketing his hands. He gets her. "Hey, Santana?" She brings her head up, swiping underneath her eyes. He'll get her later for crying. "A tiny part of me wanted to end up with you too."

"I know."

——

"You know you're insane, right?"

It's a lazy Sunday and Santana's taking Arielle to her grandmother's house today because she hasn't been around enough to see her, so Finn and Rachel are asleep on the couch (they're too lazy to go into the bedroom, okay?) and he wakes her up by playing with her hair and inching close enough so he rests his mouth by her ear.

She turns over. She's on top of him, practically. Not that he minds, but. "Insane? What'd I do now? Did you find my old cat calendars, because I could've sworn I took them out to the dumpster yesterday. The scribblings were from high school, so just...just ignore the part where I wrote 'Rachel Hudson' with little hearts because I had some tenth grade fantasy about marrying the quarterback of the football team, so..."

He's laughing. "'S not that." He brushes some hair out of her face. She looks prettier than most people when she first wakes up. "You're crazy because you take care of Santana and Arielle despite how shitty the situation is. Like, I don't know. You just have so much freakin' love for everyone, and you take care of Arielle like she's your own kid, and it's just...it's amazing."

She scrunches her nose, and she's looking right at him like she's trying not to laugh, like it's unbelievable he's even thanking her or whatever. He knows she won't take it. "Don't worry," she says assuringly, tilting her head. "One day," she smirks, tapping his chest, "when you and I have a kid, I'm putting Santana on diaper duty for the first full year of his or her life."

"I bet."

"You should."