I don't own Glee. If I did... I probably wouldn't make this happen, but I'd certainly get Rachel and Santana to admit how much they're secretly pining after each other.

Okay, this might be a little confusing, but bear with me. This fic is, while a sequel to Sing It Louder (which means it's a second sequel to Sing It Stronger), is an Alternate Universe sequel. Same world, different universe. This was inspired by one of the first reviews I received for SIL (from an Andrea DuPre), though it waited until now to demand to be written.

Not beta'd, and I just got done writing it, so it could be incredibly rough and I wouldn't know. I do know, however, that it's probably incredibly sappy. Hah hah.

Warning: Contains allusions to futa/girl!peen. If not your thing, just hit the handy dandy back button.

Rachel was waiting for her at her locker. "Hey," Santana smiled widely, leaning down to kiss her, "I wasn't expecting you until glee." When Rachel trembled against her lips, Santana pulled back, frowning. "Rache?"

Tear bruised eyes averted their gaze. Looking small and drawn, Santana's heart gave a painful thump, worry starting to swirl in her stomach. She cupped Rachel's cheeks, pushing her chin up, "Hey?"

Rachel's voice, when she spoke, was barely more than a whisper. "San," she glanced up at Santana and then away, almost hyperventilating, "We… Can we go to your house?"

"Yeah, sure. Of course." Nodding, an intensely concerned expression on her face, Santana dropped her hands from Rachel's face. "Can I… Ask why?"

Terrified brown eyes stared up at her, Rachel giving her a very quick, very jerky shake of her head. "No," she drew even further into herself, "No, please, can we just go?" New tears welled up, and Rachel hastily tried to swipe them away with the back of her hand.

Scared out of her mind now, Santana looked for Rachel's backpack to pick up, "Okay, okay, let me get your…" But not seeing it, her heart thumped again at the growing panic she was feeling. "Okay, you don't have your stuff."

Rachel shook her head.

What was going on? Heart pounding, Santana slung her backpack off of one shoulder so she could fish inside the front pocket for her car keys. Wrapping sweaty fingers around the cool plastic of her keychain, she pulled the set out, not bothering to zip the pocket back up. Shoving her backpack back, she gave Rachel a helpless look. "Okay. Keys."

Pulling her coat tightly around her body, Rachel nodded. "Let's go," she whispered huskily.

Santana nodded in weak mimicry. "Let's go." When she made to take Rachel's hand, needing the assurance, the small girl shied out of the way. Hurt by the action, Santana swallowed, nodded again, and then turned to lead Rachel to her car, the keys clenched tightly in her fist.

The car ride had been tense and overwhelmingly terrifying. Rachel hadn't said a word, staring sightlessly out of the passenger side window as she breathed deeply, seemingly always only a second away from heartrending sobs. On her part, it had taken all of Santana's will not to burst into tears herself. Cold had iced its way through her body, Santana praying that she wasn't right about what was going to happen once they actually arrived at her house.

But now they were at her house, Rachel silently following her up to her room. Closing the door after Rachel stepped through the threshold, Santana pushed herself back against it. However, unable to keep herself still, she shifted and nervously started to pace back and forth in front of the door instead. "Alright," she snapped defensively, hysteria pushing at the edges of her brain, "Are you going to tell me what's going on? You're freaking me out, Rache. What the hell is going on? Are you okay?"

Rachel wrapped her arms around herself, slowly turning around to face Santana. Shaking her head, the tears she'd been fighting finally won, and her face crumpled. Springing forward to pull her into her arms, Santana stopped before she touched her, remembering how Rachel had reacted to her before. Swallowing, she hesitantly reached out.

Accepting her touch by falling into her, Rachel almost crawled onto Santana, burying her head into her chest. Wrapping her arms around her, taking her shaking body into her own, Santana again felt her panic rising. "Baby, baby, shh. Please. Talk to me. What is it? What happened? Are you okay?"

"No, I'm not okay," Rachel sobbed, digging her fingers into Santana's back as she pressed her face into Santana's shirt, the fabric already soaked with her tears and saliva, "I'm not okay. I'm s-so scared."

"Scared?" The cold feeling was beginning to take Santana's breath away, but she held onto Rachel as tightly as she could, trying to completely surround her. "Baby, what – baby, please. What's wrong? What are you scared of?"

Rachel sucked in a deep, deep breath, almost wheezing when she let it out. "San," she gasped out roughly, pushing herself back enough to latch onto and keep Santana's eyes locked to hers, swollen and overflowing with tears. "San, I'm – I'm – " Every time she opened her mouth, she couldn't get what she wanted out.

Santana stared helplessly at her. "You're…?" she prompted, squeezing Rachel tightly, "You can tell me. No matter what. Tell me." Tears burned at her eyes, and Santana realized that if she had to, she'd beg Rachel to tell her what was going on. Because this – this was not okay.

Rachel's throat worked. Slamming her eyes shut, she took a shuddering breath. Licking her lips, and licking them again, she clenched her eyes before blinking them open. Finding Santana's gaze again, her face became very, very white. "San…" she rasped, hands tightening even further into Santana's shirt, "I'm… I'm pregnant."

Santana completely froze as pure devastation slammed into her. "What…?" she asked faintly, the blood rushing away from her head and heart, leaving her dizzy and short of breath. "You're…?"

Rachel looked absolutely devastated at her reaction, and she pulled herself away. "Pregnant," she repeated, obviously struggling to keep herself together, "I'm pregnant, Santana! I'm only sixteen and I'm pregnant!"

Flinching at the raising of her girlfriend's voice, Santana stumbled over to her bed. Collapsing onto the side, she stared at Rachel, eyes drifting to her still-flat stomach.

"I'm going to be an unwed mother, Santana! I'm going to have a baby, going to lose my – my life and my plans." Rachel started sobbing again. "I'm going – I'm going to have a baby because I'm pre-pregnant, and you're just – Santana, you're just sitting there!"

"I'm sorry!" Santana sobbed out, finally shoved from numb shock, burying her head into her hands, "I'm so sorry." Sliding off the bed, she stagger-crawled over to Rachel, needing to touch her, needing to apologize. Wrapping her arms around Rachel's legs, she pressed her face into Rachel's thigh, gasping out, "I – didn't know. I didn't think I could – Rachel, oh my god, oh my god – I didn't know." Feeling Rachel's hand tentatively touch the top of her head, Santana squeezed herself tighter against her. "This is all my fault," she struggled to get out, "This is all my fault, and I – I – " She coughed, a muscle in her throat pulling from the strain she was putting on it; sinking to her knees, Rachel softly moved her hand down to cup Santana's cheek. Reluctantly looking up, Santana met her girlfriend's eyes, feeling so, so broken. "I'm so sorry I got you pregnant," she rasped.

Staring at her, Rachel's face suddenly screwed up, and she lunged forward. Almost strangling Santana with the force of her arms around her neck, she collapsed into her chest. "Thank you," she sniffled, melting into the faltering hug Santana slipped around her back. "Thank you."

"F-for what?" Santana sniffled back, shaking her head, "How can you thank me? I got you pregnant!"

Rachel snuggled closer. "For that. For n-not accusing me of sleeping with anyone else; believing in me."

Santana dropped her chin, resting it lightly onto the top of Rachel's head. "Of course," she whispered, holding Rachel close, not willing to let her go for fear she'd suddenly push her away. She took a deep breath. "I trust you. Babe - -y… Rachel. I still – I love you. And – and if you let me…"

Rachel nodded, breath hot and moist against Santana's neck.

Heart thumping, Santana knew this was the right thing to do, all the plots of drama movies and her own pounding morality affirming it. She squeezed Rachel close to her, staring off into the space behind her, "If you, you've already decided to be a mother, you don't have to be unwed."

Rachel jerked. "What? San, what are you saying?"

"I'm saying." Moving back to look down into Rachel's eyes, Santana firmed her expression. "I'm saying that I love you, and I'm going to do whatever I can to support you. And if that includes going to Massachusetts or Canada or England the second you turn seventeen, you and I are going to the nearest church or temple to make this, us, official. I gots – I take care of my own. And you…" Santana smiled determinedly at Rachel, dipping her head to press a lingering kiss against her forehead. She moved one of her hands to slip in between them, laying trembling fingers against Rachel's stomach, "And this baby… Are of my own."

Tears welled up in Rachel's eyes again. "San," she whispered, tilting her head up to find her mouth; accepting her kiss, Santana knew from the depths of what she was feeling, that she would never want to have a life without Rachel. And especially now, when she had to take responsibility. When she wanted, needed to take responsibility.

Rachel pulled back, her eyes glistening. "I love you too, Santana. But…" Rachel shook her head, her expression becoming unsure and uncertain again, and she leaned forward to lay her head on Santana's shoulder, continuing her quiet train of thought, "This has all just happened. I'm still… I still need time to process everything. Because how can this be real?" Rachel sighed, sliding her arms down to encircle Santana's waist, "I know it took two of us for… For this to happen, but… It wasn't supposed to happen. You know, biologically speaking."

Santana did know. "Biologically," she snorted humorlessly, "I'm not really supposed to happen." She drooped her shoulders, sick guilt welling up in her body again, "But still. That doesn't excuse me telling you I'm not procreative when I apparently am. Dammit, I should sue their asses! Like, I mean, I'm totally serious. Obviously their findings weren't worth shit."

Nodding, Rachel surprised her by offering a quiet, "I believe I would join you in filing that suit. They were, after all, not only playing with your life, but also inadvertently playing with me and my life. …My future."

Closing her eyes at the emotion showing through her girlfriend's voice, Santana moved her grip on Rachel's body, drawing her with her as she leaned backwards. Once laid out on the carpet of her floor, Rachel tucked into her side, Santana sighed. Starting to gently stroke Rachel's hair, she studied the ceiling. "Our future," she corrected softly, turning her head to quickly meet Rachel's gaze, "If you want me with you. If you don't, I'll still support you. I promise. No matter what." That was something she needed Rachel to know. After seeing her aunt go through a similar situation, she'd made a promise to herself to never be that kind of bastard.

Rachel closed her eyes, then leaned up to brush her lips against Santana's. "Thank you," she whispered, finding Santana's unoccupied hand with her own to lace their fingers together; the action made Santana's heart swell, skipping a beat, "But know this, Santana Lopez, it's our future."

Our future. A wide, thankful smile grew across Santana's face. Pushing up a little to be able to solidly reach Rachel's lips, she drank her in, enjoying the heat of her mouth and the taste that was just Rachel. The girl she loved. The girl who accepted her.

And now the girl who was on the way to accepting what Santana had given her.

Rolling over, holding herself above Rachel, Santana smiled shyly down at her. Though not enjoying the red splotches and dark tear stains on her girlfriend's face, she could see that at least some of the worry and pain was gone.

Shyly smiling back up at her, Rachel eagerly reciprocated Santana's earlier kiss. "Love you," she murmured, and Santana thrilled at the genuine emotion in her voice. "Love you too," she sighed, "Love you so much."

And for the first time in a long time, the pressure in Santana's chest eased.

For now, things had calmed down. For now, they just needed each other. For now, they could be in their own world.

But later, Santana knew, the real world would intrude. They could keep Rachel's pregnancy a secret for a little while, but it would eventually come out. And when it did, Santana had a major decision to make: come forward as the father or come up with a story that would, inevitably, cast Rachel in a bad light. Could Santana stand by and allow that to happen?

Trying to shake the dark thoughts away, Santana paused. "Hey," she murmured, slipping her tongue out of Rachel's mouth, "We're missing school."

Her eyes dark and lips already swollen from Santana's kisses, Rachel stared up at Santana. "…Study hall," she finally offered, "We're missing study hall."

"And…?" When Rachel didn't answer, Santana grinned, "Guess I never knew how little importance you believe study hall to be." Craning her head, she managed to get a look at the clock on the bedside table. "We'll probably miss glee, too," she hummed.

Rachel frowned. "Santana Lopez," she looked up at her seriously, "School or emotionally charged sex. Which do you want?"

Santana's eyes widened, a smirk quickly growing on her lips. Like that was even a question. In fact, if she had her way, they wouldn't make it to school at all. She had just been given another reason to worship Rachel's body, after all, and even if they didn't spend the whole day in bed, that was fine, too. Something huge had happened, something life-changing, and she and Rachel still had to figure it all out – who had things to apologize for, or who had things to thank for.

She knew it wouldn't be a smooth day. But really, how could the first day of the rest of their lives be smooth? That just wasn't how Santana Lopez and Rachel Berry did things.

Legit, Santana wouldn't have it any other way.