"Good morning beautiful!" said the love of my life.

My raven hair a mess and my light blue tank top and darker blue booty shorts wrinkly and unattractive, I walked into the kitchen, feeling rather groggy this morning. It had been a long night – though a wonderful one of course – and I was exhausted. The beautiful blonde who was currently smiling her usual cheerful smile always had more energy than I did, so it was no surprise that she wasn't even the tiniest pinch of exhausted after last night. Was she even sore? God knows I was. Everywhere. Though my thighs were aching more than my womanhood.

The sex life of a married couple was always exciting, even for a couple who'd been married for three years. And the pain was so worth it.

"How do you always manage to get all happy the next morning?" I muttered as I leaned against the kitchen counter. I was always in a not-so-happy mood in the mornings. I wasn't a morning person.

The flawless woman I was married to, Brittany Lopierce, let out a tiny giggle as she turned away from me and continued making what smelled like eggs. She was definitely the cook in the family, I could hardly make toast without burning it.

Yeah, Lopierce. Weird last name, isn't it? Back when we were making the big ol' wedding plans, we thought it'd be cool to mash our last names together. Hyphening names was for losers.

"My name isn't Santana," she answered. She didn't even need to turn around for me to know she was smiling. It was rare to see her not smile.

"This is true," I said with a chuckle as I moved around the kitchen counter and sat on a chair. Even if I wasn't a morning person, Brittany always managed to brighten the beginning of my days by her presence. She always made me feel like the lovesick teenager I was in high school, just five years ago. I was living one of those annoyingly sappy romance films. And you know what? It was amazing.

Brittany removed the frying pan from the stove and began to serve breakfast. My mouth nearly watered at the sight she was creating – scrambled eggs, orange juice, toast, bacon – it wasn't a special breakfast, but it was a Brittany Lopierce breakfast and it looked fucking delicious.

In a couple of minutes she prepared both our plates, and she placed them in front of me, then sitting on the chair next to mine. She purposely sat close. We had to be so close that our skin touched, it was law. Any space between us was just unacceptable. And I liked it. She was the only one who could make me blush under my tan skin. She was the only one who could make me nauseous with the butterflies that were flying wildly in my stomach. I loved her. I loved her so much.

"Breakfast is served," she sang, and she handed me a fork. I smiled at her, taking the fork, and happily dug into my food. I stuck a piece of egg into my mouth, letting the flavor flood all around my tongue. It wasn't too salty, which was just perfect. She was perfect.

"Delicious as always," I told her, and there was silence after that.

It was never an awkward silence with us. It was the silence of two wives who loved each other more than life itself having breakfast together. Most would say we were crazy for marrying so young. Hell, our parents though we were crazy. But we didn't care. Getting married at nineteen was the best damn decision of my life. We pulled through college together as the world's best couple since Brangelina. We were flawless. And both really fucking sexy.

"Mrs. Lopierce," I heard Brittany call. I looked up from my plate and stared into her sparkly gems.

"Other Mrs. Lopierce," I responded with a smile.

"You've been awake for twenty-seven minutes and you forgot to tell me something."

I chuckled, knowing what she was talking about. I shoved another piece of egg into my mouth and spoke as I chewed. "I've been awake for twenty-whatever minutes and you forgot to tell me something."

She looked down at her plate, a pink hue forming on her cheeks. She was so adorable when she blushed, I loved it. I could only imagine how retarded I looked with that hue on my face.

"I love you," she told me, looking up at me with her usual goofy smile. My heart skipped a beat at this, as if she hadn't told me that before. Every time felt like the first time she told me that, which was wonderful. It was just a constant reminder that nothing would bring us apart. We were invincible.

"I love you, too," I told her before shoving another piece of egg into my mouth. She laughed.

"It was sweet until you decided to eat right afterwards!"

I shrugged, regretting nothing. She playfully pushed me, making me laugh. I pushed her back as revenge. "How old are you again?" I teased.

"Not too young for you I would hope." Her face leaned in closer to mine, so our faces were barely an inch away. My face felt hot, but I couldn't help but smile back. I loved how she could be a child one minute and a seductress the next. It was pretty sexy, and totally rebuffed any claims of me being a psychological pedophile. Or something.

"That'd be illegal, now wouldn't it?" I purred, leaning in even closer so our foreheads touched, but not our lips. The heat on my face was traveling down my body to where the real treasure was, and I had a great urge to take her on the kitchen floor at that moment. It wasn't new to us, we must've had sex all over the house. It had been especially crazy when we were newlyweds. What? We were horny.

"I won't tell if you don't," she whispered, and she finally made the move of leaning fully in and lightly touching my lips with her own. The tiniest touch made my insides explode, and I wanted to pounce her right then and there.

It was kind of funny because our lips both tasted like eggs, and that wasn't the ideal flavor to taste on someone's lips, but we both looked past the eggy taste and just tasted each other. We both knew how we tasted, and we both loved the way the other one tasted.

We got a little more passionate as my fingers went up to her hair, clutching on as if it was going to fall out. I pulled her in for a rough kiss, and we both soon started to lose our breath. The taste of scrambled eggs was gone now and it was just us tasting us. It was delicious.

My eyes were closed as I savored the taste of my life, my kisses never ceasing. We could kiss for hours upon hours and be satisfied. I wished we would be able to just kiss for all eternity. My heart lit up like a beacon for her, and her heart lit up in response. Our hearts knew what they wanted. Perhaps it was time to take this some place else…

But before I could even think about moving, another strange taste entered my mouth.

It was metallic, like licking copper or something, and it seemed like a familiar taste like I had tasted it in my mouth before. It was salty too, and not in the good way like Brittany's eggs. I took some time to process this new foreign taste, and when I discovered it I almost gasped in Brittany's mouth.

Was that blood?

I immediately pulled away from Brittany, and my heart stopped beating at the sight of blood spread out around her mouth and streams of crimson liquid pouring out from her nostrils. My mouth dropped, and Brittany's usually sparkling eyes seemed to die down. She looked at me with a confused look, like she didn't notice that she was practically bleeding to death in front of me.

"San, what's wrong?" she asked. I saw her eyes move down to where my mouth was, and her eyes widened. There was blood on my mouth too, it seemed.

Skinny fingers went up to her nose, touching it lightly and bringing it up to her eyes. She gasped at the sight of blood, and she went back and wiped her entire mouth with her hand to look at it and make sure she wasn't going crazy. Her mouth remained open in shock, unsure of what to do or say. Her eyes went back to me, and the fear in her eyes shattered my heart.

"San…" I expected her to finish what she was starting, but the next few seconds gave me a heart attack.

She turned snow-white pale at a frighteningly fast rate, and her hand dropped down to her lap. Her eyes were completely dead right now, and it wasn't until I saw her falling back that I even knew she was fainting. Her eyes rolled back into her head as if she was dropping dead. I tried to dive and catch her, but it was too late. She had fallen right on her head on the hard kitchen floor.

I pushed her chair out of my way and kneeled down beside her, lightly tapping her cheek to try and wake her up.

"Britt?" I called her. I tapped on her cheek a little more. "Britt wake up!" I took her by the shoulders and started to shake her, but to no avail. The scary part was that her nose was still bleeding, so much that it was started to make a small puddle on the kitchen tiles. I was shaking like mad, what was a supposed to do? I was never faced with an emergency like this. I looked around the kitchen for something that could help me.

There was a rag wrapped around the handle of the refrigerator, so I practically flew towards it. I ran to Brittany and placed the rag on her nose in hopes that it would stop bleeding.

"Britt, c'mon please wake up," I begged. If she was dead I wouldn't know what I would do.

The blood was starting to come through the rag, which I didn't even think could be possible. No, I couldn't help her on my own. Someone who was an expert at this sort of thing needed to see her. I left the rag on her nose and ran for the home phone, dialing 911.

What the fuck happened? She was perfectly fine two minutes ago.

"The fuck kind of cancer we talking here, Mike?"

I wanted to cry. I wanted to pretend none of this was real. But as my old high school friend told me there was a high probability that my wife had cancer, my eyes were just burning to let out tears. This was all a dream. A really sucky dream.

"I didn't say anything was definite, Santana. I'm just saying that she needs to be tested a little more. Cancer's just a possibility."

I bit my lip and looked away. A possibility? Why did I get this feeling that he was lying to me, that it was definite? A possibility just gave me a false hope that she didn't actually have cancer, that she was actually going to be okay. Yet I fell into his trap. I prayed to whatever God there was that she would be okay. He wouldn't take my soul mate away from me, would He?

"Well find out as soon as possible," I told Mike, my voice shaking a little. He could seen the pain on my face, and I felt as though he was regretting his decision of giving me such false hope. But he didn't say anything about it, nodding instead.

"You should probably get back to Brittany. She might wake up soon," he told me. And with that, he walked down the hallway.

I didn't go into Brittany's room immediately. I stood there just incase I was going to break down. My eyes did begin to water, but no tears poured out. I wanted to sob, so badly. But I didn't want Brittany to see me like this. I took a few minutes to compose myself, and every time I thought I would be okay I ended up being on the verge of tears once more. Damn it, I thought I was stronger than this! After what felt like twenty minutes, I assured myself I would be okay, and I finally walked into Brittany's room.

Brittany was awake, to my surprise.

Her eyes were baggy with exhaustion, and her hair was a mess. She still looked like the most beautiful person to me in the world, and she didn't need makeup or the perfect hair for it. The only thing that bothered me were how dead her eyes looked. The usual sparkles that lived in those blue gems of her were no longer there, like she was already dying.

No, dying was a horrible term to use. She wasn't dying.

"Hey San," she greeted me weakly. The only other noise was the sound of the EKG beeping at a stable pace. At least her heart was okay.

I forced a smile on my face and sat at the edge of her hospital bed. She looked so different being hooked up with an IV and pretty much looking like something out of Grey's Anatomy. Oh that show. We would watch all of the seasons over and over again. Shame it ended.

"Hi Britt-Britt," I greeted back, and I took her IV-hooked hand, wrapping my fingers around it. "How are you feeling?"

"Like a muffin," she muttered.

She was still the silly girl who almost no one understood in high school. "A muffin?"

"An ugly cupcake," she told me with a smile.

I laughed. Her sense of humor was so innocent and adorable. Sometimes I asked myself why she chose me out of all people to be hers. We were complete opposites. I was a bitch and she was a sweetheart. I was salt and she was sugar. I was Voldemort and she was Harry Potter.

"You're an adorable cupcake," I told her, lightly squeezing her hand lovingly.

"Thanks. So why did our make out session turn into an episode of Vampire Diaries?" she asked. I laughed some more. She almost made me forget that there was something wrong with her.

But I had to tell her, and that made my heart ache. My smile eventually faded, and I looked away from her, a pained expression on my face. She knew something was up, and she squeezed my hand back to prod me into telling her.

"San what's wrong?" she asked, and when I looked at her she was frowning. No, I couldn't have her frown, it was just going to make everything worse. I could feel my eyes water, and all that time preparing myself for this would be for nothing.

But I cursed myself as a tear actually escaped my eye. Damn, that wasn't supposed to happen. Now I really had to tell her.

"Um, Mike said that…uh…" I couldn't even bring myself to tell her.

She sat up in her bed and leaned over to wipe the tear from my face. I shook my head. I felt like my heart was stretching itself until it tore. Maybe it was best to not have a heart at this point. It was hurting already and it wasn't even confirmed that she had cancer. What the fuck kind of cancer would it be anyway? Mike still hadn't answer my question. Wait…what if he was leaving that detail out on purpose?

"Mike thinks that you might…um…" I took a deep breath to regain my strength. "He did some tests and just needs to look into them and stuff. He says it might not be nothing but just in case, he was just…he has to check to see if you might have cancer or not." And with that I looked away.

There was silence after that. Usually the silence between us was something I was comfortable with, but this was a new kind of silence. A painful one. One that I wanted to be broken. I wanted her to say something, anything. Her hand felt so distant from mine even though they were connected. My heart was lighting for hers, but I received no response. Oh God, what was going on in her mind.

Finally, she spared me more pain and answered.

"It's not definite San. Don't cry."

I shook my head in disagreement, looking back at her.

"But what if it is Britt? I can't…I can't live without you. What if you really do have…" I couldn't even say cancer without wanting to cry.

She leaned in and pecked my cheek, and my dying heart pulsed with undying love once more. She gave me an assuring smile, and for a moment I honestly though everything would be okay. She didn't have cancer. Brittany Susan Pierce would never get cancer.

"You're such a pessimist, Mrs. Lopierce," she teased. I almost forgot that she was still weak from the incident that morning. I almost forgot that she must've been in pain on the inside.

She could've been thinking the same thing I was but wouldn't show it. Like she was trying to protect me.

"I'm sorry, other Mrs. Lopierce," I responded with a half-hearted smile. She leaned in once more, this time kissing me gently on the lips. My heart was temporarily cured of the hurt it was enduring. Her kisses could cure anything. Hell, perhaps they could even cure cancer. How amazing would that be?

Just like that morning, we got more heated in our kissing until I ended up on top of Brittany. This time it was her fingers that were in my hair, although it felt awkward because the wire of the IV was attached to her hand. As long as I didn't disconnect though, we would be okay. I felt a little warm and drenched below the belt, and I began to crave for what we had just the other night. It was probably horrible timing since we were currently in the hospital, but I didn't care. And neither did she. Hospital or not, we were two married women with severe needs.

And I was about to slide my hand somewhere until I heard someone knocking the door.

"Brittana, disperse!" I heard a familiar soft voice speak. Annoyed, I removed my lips from Brittany and looked at the source of the voice. At the doorway was the petite blonde that I'd known for an eternity, my dearest Quinn.

She was scowling, and I almost wanted to laugh at how professional she looked. Her long blonde locks were tied back in a golden ponytail, and her bright blue scrubs made her look a character on Grey's Anatomy. I almost wanted to pinch her cheeks.

"Go away Fabray," I growled, though I totally meant it in a loving way.

She walked full into the room, and up to me and Brittany. "No sex in the hospital you two," she told us firmly. She grabbed my arm and yanked me off the bed, which pissed me off.

"Such a cockblock Quinn, shit," I muttered, and she shook her head and looked at Brittany.

"Brittany, you're very weak right now. I think sex is the last thing you should be doing," Quinn scolded.

I rolled my eyes, but Brittany nodded in understanding. "Sorry Quinn, it won't happen again."

A what-the-fuck expression appeared on my face as I looked at Brittany. Why the hell was Brittany agreeing with Quinn? She was supposed to be on my side!

"How would you like it if I forbade you and Sam from having sex?" I challenged.

She gave me her famous Fabray grin, the one that made me want to slap her on the spot. "I'm not the one with a loved one in a hospital bed, now am I?"

I raised my hand to slap her, but she twirled around me with a laugh. Great, she was our assigned nurse? I didn't want a cockblock as a nurse, no matter how much I loved her.

Her face suddenly turned serious, which would've made me laugh had I not wanted to slap her right now. "No sex you two." She pointed at the both of us, her eyes narrowed. Thank God she didn't live with us, I would be scared shitless of her walking in on me and Brittany all the time.

"Yeah, yeah. Fuck off Quinn. Tell Sam to take the stick out your ass when you get home," I growled grudgingly.

She playfully blew at kiss at me, waved bye to Brittany, and disappeared out the door.

I let out a frustrated sigh and took a seat by Brittany. "What a cockblock."

Brittany giggled and placed her hand on top of mine. "It's okay. We can wait."

I rolled my eyes. I didn't want to wait. I wanted it right now. But if Brittany wanted to wait then fine, I would only do whatever she asked me to do. I would do anything for her.

In sickness and in health.