A/N: Hey! So, this is my first attempt at writing (you know, outside of school) ever, and I will be honest. I probably never would have written anything ever if it weren't for the prodding/encouragement of a certain someone. She knows who she is (I didn't ask if I could mention her name, so...yeah.) ;) Anyway, so I got this idea after she prompted me to write something. It's kind of sad, but also has humor...Well, I think parts are funny, anyway. :) Oh, and let's not forget Brittana. Can't write a story without them! ;)

Oh, and yes, I got my information from Google, so if anyone is more knowledgeable about some of this stuff, just...pretend this is actually the way things work, okay? Thanks. ;)

Disclaimer: I don't own Glee or anything like that, blah, blah. If I did, Brittana would have been for real together since episode 1, they would get more screentime, and Finn would have been sent to die in the Bermuda Triangle before the show even existed, leaving Faberry open for canonization. ;)

Something wasn't right.

Lord Tubbington, who usually had a measure of apathy and confidence reflected in his stare and countenance, waddled around the Pierce residence as though merely going through the motions. He didn't even eat his dinner! Brittany noticed right away, especially since he didn't sit at her desk to watch her and Santana's sexytimes like he usually does.

"Lord Tubbington, what's the matter? Are you sick? You haven't started smoking again, have you?" Brittany asked after a few days of his bizarre behavior, worried about the well-being of her most cherished companion, aside from Santana, of course. The cat merely looked at Brittany with the same aloof expression as always, trying to assure her that everything was right in his world.

"Okay…If you're sure nothing's wrong," Brittany acquiesced, though not quite believing her pet's attempt at reassurance.

Over the next few days, everything seemed to go back to normal. Almost. Lord Tubbington began to strut around the house like he used to and stare unabashedly when Santana and Brittany were "studying," but he still didn't eat much. Not even the fondue Brittany prepared specially for him. A couple of weeks later, Brittany started noticing that she didn't have to lift so much with her legs to pick him up as she usually does.

"You've lost weight? But the doctor said that you have a glandular condition! Let's see how much you've lost." The cat, who generally weighed a whopping 25 pounds, was down to 17, in only a few weeks. Lord Tubbington's placating responses to Brittany's worried inquiries were no longer effective.

She started paying extra attention to her beloved pet, even going so far as to dress in camouflage and follow him around without him noticing. What she discovered shocked and horrified her.

"Lord Tubbington, you're bulimic! That is SO not good for you. I know you want to lose weight, but you don't want your hair to fall out, do you?" Brittany scolded when she caught him regurgitating his breakfast behind the TV in the living room. But, Lord Tubbington merely turned around and walked away, leaving Brittany to clean up his mess on the floor.

Over the next week, Brittany tried to stop him from throwing up every time he ate, even going so far as to get Ms. Pillsbury to give him an anti-bulimia pamphlet entitled, "So you like throwing up!", but to no avail. His strange behavior continued, and it got to the point where Santana even noticed.

"Britts, what's going on with your cat? I feel like a stalker is watching us, and I wants to get my cuddle on," Santana complained as she removed her lips from Brittany's neck once she heard the faint wheezing sound coming from Lord Tubbington across the room.

"I don't know. He's been acting really strangely lately. He's sluggish, won't eat, throws up when he does, has lost a ton of weight, and now he sounds like that time he got a wishbone caught in his throat." Suddenly, Brittany sat up straight and gasped, colliding her forehead with Santana's in the process.

"Ow, B! What's wrong? I'm sure he didn't swallow another-" Santana cut herself off when she saw the absolute, heartbreaking fear swimming in her best friend's eyes. "Britt?"

"Oh, my God. How did I not notice it before? I'm such a horrible owner!" Brittany cried as she frantically jumped off the bed, throwing her clothes on as quickly as possible.

"What? Slow down, Britt. Why are you horrible?"

"Something is very wrong with Lord Tubbington. Very, very wrong, and I should have figured it out sooner. I'm so stup-"

"Don't even finish that sentence," Santana sharply cut in as she, too, put her clothes back on. "Now, B, calm down for a second, and tell me what exactly is wrong with him."

"Lord Tubbington has cancer." Brittany said it with a voice devoid of emotion, which Santana knew was her defense mechanism so she wouldn't break down and cry right there.

"Wait, what? How do you know?"

"He's been exhibiting tell-tale symptoms for a few weeks now. The loss of appetite, the throwing up, the weight loss, the diarrhea, and the fluid collection in his lungs, resulting in his wheezing. I never should have taken his word for it when I asked him if he was okay. I should have just taken him to the vet like I was going to. I know that cats hide their pain as much as possible." Now, Brittany was beginning to choke up, and Santana immediately wrapped her in a warm, comforting embrace. She trusted Brittany's judgment on this. Most people believed that because of her general, ditzy comments at school that Brittany was stupid, but Santana knew better. She knew that Brittany is really intelligent, but she only applies herself with things she is really interested in, like cats and dancing. She might not know a lot about math or science, but she knows everything there is to know about cats, especially cat diseases.

"Britt…" Santana ventured carefully, knowing the vulnerable state Brittany was in right now. "I know this is devastating, but we should probably get him to a vet soon."

At this, Brittany stiffened, gave Santana one last squeeze, silently thanking her for her support, and rushed towards Lord Tubbington, who did not even have the energy to try to flee.

"Oh, Tubbs, I'm so, so sorry! We'll get you to a doctor right away, and they'll fix you right up!" Brittany exclaimed as she carried her pet to his carrier, always the optimist, though she knew the statistics. She silently hoped it was lymphoma, a common form of feline cancer, since it wasn't as aggressive as the other, rare types, such as liver or lung cancer.

Santana drove all the way to the nearest veterinary hospital, which luckily was located just outside of Lima, while Brittany sat in the back seat with her cat, petting him and trying to reassure him that everything was going to be alright.

Three hours later, Brittany and Santana had been sitting in the waiting room of the hospital for over two hours while the doctors examined Lord Tubbington, when a woman wearing a long white coat approached the girls.

"Miss Pierce?" The blonde woman, who had introduced herself as Dr. Earley when they had arrived, said as she came to stand in front of a very distraught looking Brittany whose hands were clasping Santana's, seeking comfort.

"Brittany. How is Lord Tubbington? Is he going to be okay? Does he need chemo or surgery? Who do I need to contact to set all that up?" Brittany frantically questioned, only calming down once she registered the soothing hand rubbing circles across her back. Thank God for Santana Lopez. She always knew just what to do to help Brittany in any situation.

Her relative calm broke the instant she saw Dr. Earley's eyes flicker with remorse. It was only a minute change that lasted a mere millisecond, but Brittany caught it. She's always been able to read and understand people better than anyone she knew. It's how she got past Santana's outer defenses so the girl would let her in, and she's always considered it a gift. Except for now. Now, she wished that she could be blissfully ignorant if only for another second before her fears were inevitably confirmed by the kind looking veterinarian standing in front of her.

"Lord Tubbington has stage four metastatic lung cancer. I'm sorry, Brittany." The doctor looked at her with nothing but a sympathetic expression.

As soon as the doctor finished her sentence, Brittany went rigid, trying in vain to mask the devastation that was pouring through her body. Santana noticed and silently offered her support by squeezing her hand tighter and wrapping her arm around the blonde's shoulders. "H…How long does he have?" Brittany choked out, leaning into Santana's warmth.

The veterinarian sighed, hating this part of her job. "A week. Two max."

"I don't understand. I know that feline lung cancer is very aggressive, but he only just started exhibiting symptoms three weeks or so ago, and they weren't even bad ones back then, only a change in his eat habits and energy levels. I thought maybe he might be depressed because the neighbor cat gave him the boot last month," Brittany rambled.

"It's very likely that Lord Tubbington has not been feeling well for a while, but cats are so good at hiding their pain that it would look like everything is fine until he couldn't hide it that well anymore. Even so, the form he has is extremely aggressive, and it spread so quickly, there was nothing you could have done," Dr. Earley finished kindly.

Brittany swallowed the lump in her throat and when she finally found her voice, asked, "What do I do now?"

"Now, you have to make a decision. Usually, it would be up to your parents, since they are the legal owners, but since you say they are out of the country," Brittany nodded, mumbling something about a second honeymoon. "The decision is up to you. You can take Lord Tubbington home with you, and we can try to help manage his pain with medication. But, Brittany, even with the meds, he will be in a lot pain, and he will quickly become a completely different cat." At this, Brittany turned her confused, panicked eyes to Santana's sympathetic ones. Santana answered Brittany's question with her eyes. No, Lord Tubbington would not transform into a new cat, but rather, his health would deteriorate in front of her each day. Once again, Brittany was grateful for Santana, who helped give her clarity and peace without having to say a word. "Or," The doctor continued, puzzled by what just transpired between the two girls in front of her, "We can put him down here. We have the means to make him go so that he doesn't suffer another second."

Brittany couldn't take it anymore. She felt the tears spring from her eyes, and she turned, burying her face into Santana's neck while the Latina held her tightly.

"Can she have a minute to think it over?" Santana asked the kind vet, knowing that this was not a decision Brittany could make on the spot.

"Of course. Ask a nurse to page me when you're ready," She said softly before she strode away.

Brittany had no idea how long she stood there, crying into Santana's neck, tears staining her top. All she knew was that the Latina seemed content just to stand there, holding her and stroking her hair. Eventually, Brittany's sobs grew softer and slower, and she finally pulled away, looking into the dark chocolate orbs of the girl she loved.

"I'm sorry, Santana. I didn't mean to dump all of this on you. You shouldn't have to deal with all this," Brittany began. Santana knew what she was doing. Brittany was giving her an out, letting her know that Brittany wouldn't hold it against her if this was something Santana couldn't handle.

"You didn't dump anything on me. I love you, and I will be there for you forever, no matter what horrible things happen." Blue and brown eyes simultaneously widened at the realization of what Santana had just admitted. Despite the devastation of having to make a life and death choice, literally, for a love one (Lord Tubbington was so much more than a mere pet to her. He was a friend, a confidante, a brother), Brittany's heart raced at Santana's confession. It's not that she hasn't known that the guarded Latina loved her. She can tell every time her dark orbs gazed into her own blue ones. Santana's eyes were forever overflowing with love that had yet to be spoken. Whenever they had sexytimes, it was so much more than simply a physical release, as Santana had tried to convince her and herself so many times in the past. Brittany knew this. Because, she knows Santana, through and through. But, hearing her actually say the words with such conviction, and not in an "I love you as a friend" context, made Brittany's heart soar like she never thought possible.

"You love me, huh?" Brittany couldn't help asking. She just wanted to hear her say it again, hoping against hope that her soul mate wouldn't back down now. To her utter delight, she didn't. She just smiled.

"Yeah, I love you more than I love Breadstix. So much more." Santana's smile was cut off when a soft pair of lips crashed into hers for a brief, yet passionate kiss, and she didn't even care that they were standing in the middle of a busy veterinary hospital.

"And I love you more than cats!" Cats. Lord Tubbington. And just like that, Brittany's elation nearly vanished (nothing could ever completely get rid of her happiness at what just transpired). "Santana, what should I do? I don't want him to suffer, but I also don't want him to die in a creepy hospital bed." Brittany looked at Santana with pleading eyes, as if she held all the answers in the universe.

Santana's heart broke at the devastated look in Brittany's eyes, and she could see that she was trying valiantly not to break out into tears again. Then, Santana got an idea.

"I think I know what to do, B." Brittany's confused expression changed to one of complete adoration for the Latina once she relayed her "brilliant," as Santana called it, plan.

Two hours and one trip back to the Pierce residence later, and Lord Tubbington was sitting in the lap of luxury in a private room on his favorite kitty bed (AKA a fleece blanket Brittany had made for him), surrounded by all the comforts of home and his most cherished companion, though he would not have admitted it if it weren't for the circumstances, Brittany. Dr. Earley came in a little before 10:00 at night, after giving Brittany and Lord Tubbington time to say goodbye.

"It's time," she said softly.

"Already?" Brittany sniffled and shifted in her seat beside her beloved cat so she could give him one last kiss. "Don't worry; I hear that cat heaven is the best place ever. Full of cheese and toy mice and no stupid dogs trying to sniff your butt." Santana smiled lovingly at the scene, moving closer to Brittany to wrap her arm around her and pet the sick cat one last time.

"Yeah, and all the girl cats are in heat 24/7. You'll love it," Santana tried to joke, for which Brittany was grateful.

When Dr. Earley injected the drug into the cat, Brittany let her tears escape in torrents, some falling onto the soft fur of her pet. "I love you, Tubbs. I love you so much." Those were the last words Lord Tubbington heard as he waddled his way into the light.

Santana sat with Brittany for a while afterwards, until it was time to go home, making plans to come back and collect his remains so Brittany could give him a proper burial. The service held in Brittany's backyard under Lord Tubbington's favorite tree to climb was a small affair, just her and Santana. Brittany placed a large, flat rock, which Mr. Pierce had gotten for her, at the head of his burial, which Santana had painted with "Lord Tubbington 1999-2011 Beloved Companion Gone, but never forgotten."

"I love you," Santana told Brittany, kissing her and entwining their fingers as they headed back to the house. Brittany just squeezed her hand and looked up to the sky, smiling.