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20 March 2013 @ 01:38 pm
I'm here with you now.  
Title: I'm here with you now.
Fandom: Glee
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Santana/Finn
Summary: Based on the prompt 'I woke up wanting to kiss you' from the Santana Drabble Meme

He wakes up on this tiny hospital cot and his body feels like shit; his muscles are all tight and stiff and he takes a second to just lay there and feel miserable before he remembers. It’s like realizing it’s Christmas morning and he rolls over to see if Santana’s awake. She’s not; she’s still completely passed out in the hospital bed, her mouth hanging open just a little bit and her hand tucked under her flushed cheek. He doesn’t want to wake her because he knows she’s going to be exhausted and sore as hell, so he just pushes the thin covers off and sits on the side of the cot, stretching out his arms before he tries to get up.

He shuffles to the edge of her bed and peers into the tiny bassinette next to her. His daughter is stirring a little and her face scrunches up into this ridiculous pout and his heart actually hurts because she looks so sad. She makes this little sound, like a scared kitten, and he can’t not pick her up. He eases his hand under her head like the nurse showed him and cradles it carefully in his palm as he lifts her and holds her tiny body against his chest. Her eyes fly open, surprised and confused, and he thinks that maybe she wasn’t awake when he picked her up, that she was just having a baby-scary dream or something.

He sways a little, bouncing gently, and her eyes go to his face for an instant before her eyelids get heavy again and she’s falling asleep. Her little body is so warm against him and he can feel the steady rise of her chest and the fast thrum of her heart on his skin. He looks down at her and she’s just so cute with her mess of black hair and her pouty pink lips. He can’t stop looking at her; it took him a good three hours to fall asleep after they got to the post partum unit because he couldn’t keep his eyes off of her.

There’s a soft squeak as the door opens and he looks up as the new nurse comes in, just starting her shift. She smiles at him and he grins back; he’s so over the moon that anyone sharing his enthusiasm is an immediate ally.

She peeks around the curtain at Santana and takes a quick look at the baby before whispering,

“How was the rest of your night? I guess you guys were just transferred over here around one in the morning; she delivered around eleven, right?”

He nods, “Pretty good; she nursed her around five so I think they’re ok for a little bit.”

The nurse nods, “I’m not going to wake her then; she’ll be up within the next hour or so to feed her again. Why don’t you ring the call bell for me when she’s getting ready to feed her and I’ll come in and do a quick assessment.”

“Sure, yeah – I can do that.”


She leaves him and he’s alone again; the baby in his arms and his fiancée sleeping next to him. He eases back down on the edge of the cot and rests the baby on his knees so he can look at her face. They haven’t picked a name yet; they didn’t know she was a girl until last night and when she came out, the ones they’d tentatively picked out seemed all wrong. He kind of expected her to come out screaming her head off (Santana punched him when he told her it was because of her genes) but she just let out this one sharp cry and then settled in Santana’s arms, looking pleasantly confused as she blinked in the bright lights of the delivery room.

Santana stirs a little and her brow scrunches, then releases as she opens her eyes and blinks at him. She lets out this quiet sigh and smiles a little as she says,

“C’mere.”

He eases up off the cot and sits down next to her in bed. She cups her hand under his jaw and presses a kiss to his lips, rubbing his jaw line with her thumb. She pulls back and he grins, asking,

“What was that for?”

“Nothing; I just woke up wanting to kiss you.” She says softly, tucking mussed hair behind her ear.

She shifts, wincing as she straightens to get a better look at the baby, and murmurs, “Think I can convince them to give me a post partum epidural?”

He laughs, “I doubt it; if you managed thirteen hours of labour and pushed this kid out without one, I’m pretty sure the window of opportunity has closed.”

She leans up against his side; her head tilted against his shoulder, and traces her fingertip over the baby’s plump cheek. He grins, presses a kiss to the part in her hair, and says,

“She’s pretty awesome, right?”

She laughs at him, like he’s crazy or something, and says, “Yeah, Finn. She’s pretty awesome.”

The baby cracks an eye open to look at them for just a second before squeezing them shut and letting out this little unhappy noise, curling her tiny fists in the hospital blanket. He tilts his elbow so he can bump Santana’s side gently and frees a hand to lace his fingers through hers,

“You’re pretty awesome too, you know.”

She presses her face into his shoulder and pokes him hard in the stomach which he takes to mean that she knows, and then she untangles their fingers and pulls his arm around her shoulder so she’s pressed tight against him.

She laughs a little bit and before he can ask why she says,

“Thanks for – you know – not passing out on me when you caught a glimpse of the carnage she was creating downstairs.”

He cringes. It’s her way of thanking him for being there for thirteen hours with minimal food and one bathroom break and he knows he was an awesome labour coach or buddy or whatever (the nurse totally pulled him aside and told him so; he’s pretty damn proud of that). It wasn’t really that hard when he thought about what she was going through and yeah, he might have liked to pee one more time but then they were saying she was fully dilated and he just kind of forgot. It’s all good.

“I’m glad she looks like you.” He says, squeezing her shoulder.

“I’m glad her head got all un-squished and cone-y. She looked like a freak.” She replies.

“Santana!” He cries, but he’s laughing and then she is too but it hurts too much so she has to stop and tell him to cut it out.

The baby stirs and this time she’s unhappy, her lip curling into another pathetic pout and these little cries making her body tremble in his arms. Santana looks at the clock and then she’s got this kind of unsure expression on her face when she asks,

“Think she’s hungry?”

He shrugs; they’ve had this kid for all of nine hours and she expects him to know what to do with it?

“It’s worth a try.”

She takes the baby and holds her carefully in one arm while she works her other arm out of her tank top and tries to replicate the position the nurse showed her at five. Finn reaches for the call bell and she nudges him with her foot, bringing the baby in close to her side as she says,

“Not yet.”

“She said to call when you were awake.”

“Not yet. I just want another minute; just the three of us.”

It’s practically the most sentimental thing she’s said in her entire life and he totally knows it so he just slides in next to her to try and help (Good God, how is he going to help here?), and says,

“Another minute can’t hurt.”
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