Hello, everyone. I just wanted to have you all know that I will most likely be wrapping this story up in the next chapter. As always, thank you all for reading, and I hope you enjoy it.

/

"My mom's not dead," I say to myself with a chuckle while Brittany takes the phone from me and speaks to the man on the line. "I just talked to her the other day… She's not dead." This is almost boarder line hilarious. My mom can't be dead. That's just not possible. She's like super young and has lots and lots of years to live. We just finished planning out our next Christmas, there's just no way she's dead.

"Santana..." Brittany says, kneeling down in front of me as I sit on the couch.

"She's not dead, Britt. We're going to visit her soon, remember? We're going to surprise visit her," I say, and when Brittany doesn't immediately respond, I insist, "remember?"

She nods, unsure. "Yeah... I remember but-"

"Maybe I had too much to drink. I probably misheard the guy on the phone." A tear rolls down Brittany's cheek and I swipe it with my thumb. "Britt." I frown. "Why are you crying?"

"San…" she says with a sniffle. "I'm going to get Sugar, okay? Stay here." She walks across our modestly sized apartment and knocks on Sugar's door a few times.

"I'm not ready to see your faces again!" Sugar warns from behind her closed door.

"Sugar… Please come out," Brittany pleads. "Something happened."

"Something with your clothes on I hope."

Her door swings open, and there's distant whispers between the two, then a gasp. "What do you mean?" Sugar says. "Santana?" She asks, nearing me. "What happened?"

"Nothing!" I laugh. "Someone prank called me."

Sugar glances at Brittany who shakes her head. "I talked to them. He was a doctor in Columbus."

"No, he wasn't. He was an asshole playing a bad prank on me. I can't believe you guys are going to fall for it." I spring up from the couch. "I'm gonna go to bed. I had too much wine."

"San," Brittany says, taking my hand before I can leave.

"We'll have to finish what we started later," I say with a wink, then kiss her goodnight.

/

The next morning, I wake up groggily and with a pounding in my head. It's almost like a hangover, except it's not. I look around my empty bedroom, remembering last night's call.

It can't be true.

I pick my phone up and speed dial my mom. It rings once, twice, three times, and after the fourth ring, I'm redirected to her inbox.

"Please leave a message after the tone," the machine says.

"Mom… You're there... aren't you?" I stay on the line until the recording ends then toss my phone on the mattress and rub my temples. "It's not true," I whisper to myself. The shower head goes off in my bathroom, and I quietly pad towards the noise. When I open the door, I notice some movement inside the foggy shower cabin. "Brittany?" I lightly knock on the glass. "Britt?"

Her head pokes out from behind the door, plastered hair and all. Her worried eyes scan every inch of my face. "Santana. How- Are you okay?"

I nod silently.

"Sugar's using the other shower," she informs, as if apologizing for being in here.

"It's okay." I pull out a bottle of Advil from the medicine cabinet and swallow two pills with a handful of tap water. "Are you doing anything today?"

Brittany's mouth hangs open for a moment, taken aback by my question. "I… No, I'm not."

"I'll bring home some dinner," I say as I pat my face dry from the water I just splashed on myself. "I'm gonna go get ready for work."

"San, maybe you should take the day off," she suggests, almost making it sound like a question. "It's Sunday. When was the last time you just stayed home and relaxed? We can hang out in our pjs all day."

"I can't…" I say, turning around to leave. "I'll see you tonight."

/

I'm so distracted during the photo session with my client, that I offer to re-do their engagement photos at a later date and with a discount.

"Are you sure?" The woman asks. "I mean, that's great for us, but you kinda seem like you're going through something. We wouldn't want to take advantage of that."

"Don't worry about it," I say as I pack my things. "I'll rebook you and give you a call soon."

"Okay, thanks. And um, I hope you get through your rough patch."

I nod, getting into my car. "Thanks."

I sit there for two hours after the couple is gone. I call my mom again but leave no message this time. "Mom…" I drop my head onto the steering wheel. "It's not true."

When I get home that evening, I find Brittany and Sugar on the living room floor with craft materials sprawled all around them.

"What are you guys doing?" I ask, picking up one of the kittens which is looking more like a full grown cat and less like a kitten.

Brittany's on her feet in seconds. "We're just making some shirts." She holds up a t-shirt with the faces of three cats draw on with fabric paint. "Want to make one?"

I shake my head. "That's okay," I smile faintly. "Did you guys have dinner yet?"

"No," Brittany says. "Not yet."

"Shit. I was suppose to bring dinner. I'm sorry, I completely forgot." I let the cat down. "I'll go get us something. What are you guys in the mood for?"

"It's okay, Santana. I'll just order a pizza," Sugar says, reaching for her phone.

"I'm sorry," I apologize. "I'm just… I'm tired."

"It's okay," Brittany assures me with a sad smile. She runs her fingers down my forearm and when she finds my hand she clamps on to it.

"I'm gonna go lay down for a while."

"Okay. Do- Do you want me to come with you?"

I grimace sympathetically. Any other time, I'd say yes in a heart beat, but today is different. "I'm just gonna rest my eyes. I'll be back."

I don't go back. In fact, I don't even wake up again. It's not until my alarm goes off the next morning that I open my eyes to the light of day.

Brittany, who's already by the dresser slipping into her pink and blue scrubs, comes and sits next to me. "You should take the day off," she says, stroking my bangs away from my face.

"Why would I do that?" I ask.

Her lips purse. "The hospital called again. They need you to go down there as soon as you can."

I throw the bed sheets off myself and make my way to the bathroom, ignoring Brittany's comments.

"Santana," she says, coming up behind me as I brush my teeth. "I can go with you. I know it's not easy, but I'll be there with you."

Her hand softly lands on my waist and squirm away. "Are you ready to go?" I ask.

"Y-yeah. Right now? I'll call in at work."

"No, Brittany. Are you ready to go to work. I don't want to be late."

Her face falls as she realizes what I meant but sighs and nods anyway.

After I drop her off at the clinic, I have every intention of going to work but soon find myself on the highway and on my way to Ohio. I stop once for gas and seriously consider turning back. I know once I get there, once I see her laying there with the color drained out of her, there will be no more pretending. It will be real. It will be my new reality. Still, I get back in my car and follow the signs for Ohio.

/

"So you see, there was no way of predicting that this was going to happen. The plaque was silently building up in her coronary arteries with no obvious signs. When the build up got to be too much, her arteries had no way of getting blood to her heart. She was D.O.A. Miss. Lopez. I really wish we could have saved her," the doctor finishes. "Have you had the chance to see her yet?"

I nod. "What do I do now?"

"Next are the funeral arrangements, but it seems as if that's all taken care of. Your mother and a…" he scans through his files, "Roberto Lopez made arrangements years ago."

"My dad?"

"You'll need to contact the funeral home for more information on what you need to do, but it seems as if most of it is taken care of."

"Okay."

"Do you have any other questions?"

"No." I shake my head. "Thank you."

I sit at a nearby waiting area and stare down at the plastic bag resting on my lap. My eyes scan the name tag over and over. Isabella Lopez. Isabella Lopez. Isabella Lopez. I slip my hand into the bag and pull out a silver watch, remembering the last time I saw her wearing it. She had been reading one of her cook books, glancing at the watch every so often to make sure the food on the stove wouldn't over cook. I smile at the memory.

My phone vibrates angrily, and for the first time today, I dig it out of my purse and answer it. "Hello?"

"Santana, thank god," Brittany's worried voice rings through the speaker. "I've been calling you all day. I tried calling you at the studio, but they said you hadn't shown up. Are you okay? Where are you?"

"I'm in Ohio."

"What?"

"I came to see my mom."

"San, you went alone? Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," I say, slipping on the silver watch. "I won't be back for a few days though. I need to… take care of some stuff here."

"I'll be there as soon as I can, okay?"

"No, Brittany." I shake my head as if she can see me. "I'm okay. You don't need to come all the way down here."

"I want to be with you," she says, sounding small. "Can I please come?"

I sigh. "You'll miss work…"

"It's okay. I'll talk to them. And I'll call my mom and have her know that you're in town. You can wait with her while I get there."

"What? No, Britt. I'm gonna stay at my parents'."

"Santana... Please wait for me at my mom's. I don't want you to be alone. We can go to your house when I get there… Do it for me, please."

"Britt, it's just… It'll be weird."

"I won't tell my mom what's going on. Just wait for me in my room. I'll be there tonight."

"How will you even get here?"

"Don't worry about that. Just go to my mom's and get some rest, okay?"

"Okay… Please hurry. I… I need to see you. "

"I'll be there soon. I promise."

/

When I get to Brittany's house, I'm received with a warm welcome from her mother. She doesn't ask any questions and only checks on me a few times and brings me a bowl of pasta during the late evening.

"I know it's your favorite," she says, setting the plate down on Brittany's desk.

"Thank you, Mrs. Pierce," I say as I lift my head off of Brittany's old pillows. I wish they smelled like her, but they have a new scent now; a scent of washed and unused cloth.

"Oh Sweety, I've known you for a while now and you're a grown woman. Please call me Katherine."

I smile. "Okay, I will."

We hear a car pull into the driveway followed by its door opening and closing in a rush.

"That must Brittany. I'll go let her in."

Katherine leaves the room as desperate knocks are made on the front entrance. There's a mixture of distant voices, then Brittany shows up at her bedroom door. She halts when she sees me, one hand holding a duffle bag while the other hangs at her side.

I slide off her bed and walk towards her, arms outstretched in front of me. She drops the bag on the floor and tightly wraps me in a tight hug. "I'm sorry I took so long," she whispers.

"How did you get here?" I ask.

"Sugar lend me her car. She wanted to come, but she couldn't cancel on her clients. Nico will drive her down here tomorrow, though."

I groan, pulling away from Brittany and sitting back down on her bed. "Why is she coming? We'll be back in Chicago soon."

"Santana… We just want to be with you."

"Well, you don't need to. I'm fine. I just have to grab some things from my mom's and pack up her stuff. Then… have a quick funeral."

"Do you want to get started packing things tonight?"

I shake my head. "I'm sure you're tired from the drive. It can wait till tomorrow."

"Don't worry about me," she says, sitting next to me. "Whatever you need, we'll do." She begins rubbing my back and I immediately feel my muscles begin to relax. The effects she has on me scare me sometimes. "Did you eat?" She asks. "Should I make you something?"

"Your mom brought me some food." I point at the bowl on her desk. "But I'm not really hungry."

Brittany shuffles back on the bed until her back meets the headboard and opens her arms. "C'mere"

I do as she says and snuggle up against her chest while her hands silently run up and down my arms.

"I got to see her," I start, "but… It was just… It felt as if it wasn't really her. She almost didn't even look like herself. I was scared I wouldn't be able to take seeing her on that slab, that I'd lose it, but I almost felt nothing… I still think I'm going to show up at her house tomorrow and she's going to be in the kitchen cooking something amazing or singing to that stupid garden she loves so much. She can't really be gone, Brittany. She wouldn't leave me like that."

"I'm sure she didn't want to leave you, San. She loved you so, so much," she says, her voice soft. "But we don't get to decide how we leave this world."

I crane my neck to look at her. "You wouldn't do that to me, right?"

She smiles but fails to completely hide her sadness. "I'll do my absolute best not to."

/

"Are you sure you want to do this today?" Brittany asks as we stand outside my mom's house. "I can pack her things up, if you'd like."

"No, it's okay. I can do it. I need to clear the place today so that the real estate people can start showing it."

"You're going to sell it?" She asks, astonished.

"Rent it. A friend of the family is going to take care of that. I just need to get her stuff out of here." I unlock the door and step inside. Everything looks the same. Exactly the same. The picture frames, the furniture, even the homey smell is still here.

We go straight to my mom's bedroom, wanting to get it over with. It takes us a little over an hour to finish packing her things. She didn't have much, being a simple woman. A few pairs of shoes, a few dresses, work clothes. What she did have a lot of was memorabilia. We found everything from photo albums to movie ticket stubs from her first dates with my father back in the 80s. She had always valued memories and experiences over materialistic things.

"Look at this," Brittany says, holding up a small photo album. "Is that you?"

I chuckle, looking at the picture of my parents bathing me. "Yeah. They used to shower me in the kitchen sink as a baby because it was the perfect height for my mom."

"That's cute," Brittany coos with a smile. She flips through the album and finds a picture tucked in in the last page. "San, look. It's us," she says excitedly.

I take the picture and examine it.

"I don't remember taking it," Brittany comments.

"Neither do I. It looks like we were in elementary school then. I recognize our studying spot," I say. "She must have secretly snapped it when she picked me up that day." My mom had always loved that I was friends with Brittany. She always thought highly of her even though she didn't officially meet her until we were in college. I use to tell her everything about her. How she helped me do my homework, how she was good in every school subject and sport. Even when I told her Brittany was a little weird, she laughed and said weird makes people more interesting. She was also confused by me and Brittany's on and off friendship. It wasn't until the day I told her I was gay, that everything clicked for her. She said she was beginning to understand a lot of things, one of them being my relationship with Brittany. She was a smart woman and knew me very well.

"You think I can make a copy of it?" Brittany asks.

I smile at her and hand the picture over. "You can have it."

"Really?" She asks, taking it.

"Yeah. My gift to you for coming all the way here to help me." I kiss her forehead and stand up off the ground. "I'm going to go out back and see if there's anything I need to throw out. Can you finish up here?"

"Sure."

I walk out the bedroom and through the empty kitchen where my mom had time after time attempted to teach me how to cook her favorites. The door at the back of the room leads me to the back yard where I find her beloved garden showing off it's bright and fresh organics. I kneel down next to it and cut a tomato. "Who's going to take care of you now?" I ask out loud.

I look around at all of it, the polished green grass, the trees, the flowers. Who is going to take care of it all? She's gone. She really is gone forever. A painful knot starts forming in my throat at the thought of it. I will never hear her voice again. Not lecturing me, not congratulating me, not saying she loves me, not singing to these stupid plants, not ever. My lungs begin to feel deprived from oxygen as my eyes overflow with tears.

"Santana, what should I do with-" comes Brittany's voice.

"She's gone, Brittany. She really left me. They both abandoned me."

Brittany drops next to me and pulls me into her chest as I let out ugly sobs.

"Why would she do that to me? She was all I had," I say, gasping for air.

"You have me, Santana. You're not alone… I won't leave you."

My stomach tightens and I begin to hyperventilate, holding on to Brittany for dear life. I feel like I'm underwater and the pain in my chest is sinking me deeper and deeper.

"It's okay, San. Breathe," Brittany directs me as she rocks us back and forth. "Breathe, San. I'm here. You're not alone. Just breath."

/

"Santana!" Sugar hurries across the grass, careful not to step on anyone's tomb plaque. She slows down as she nears me and softly, as if I'm made out of sticks, wraps me in a hug.

"Hi." I mumble.

"How are you doing?" She asks, pulling away, " I'm sorry I didn't come sooner. Did Brittany explain to you?"

"She did. It's okay. Don't worry about it. I just want to get this over with and go home."

Sugar nods, and looks back at Nico who just finished locking up his car and is now walking towards us. "I hope it's okay that he's here."

"It's fine," I assure her.

"Hi, Santana." He gives me what feels like a genuine hug. "I'm very sorry for your loss. If there's anything I can do, anything at all, please let me know."

"Thank you."

"San, the priest is ready," Brittany says, resting her gentle hand on my lower back.

I tighten my coat around my frame as Brittany's umbrella shields me from the light rain. Even nature is sad today.

We're soon joined by Brittany's family and a few of my parents' close friends as the priest reads from his book. I don't hear anything. I don't feel anything. My eyes are fixated on the casket in front of me as I trying to assimilate the fact that my mom is in a box and about to be buried under six feet of dirt. Brittany kisses my cheek and for the first time ever she has not effect on me. I'm completely hollow.

The casket is lowered and I turn to leave before they even finish packing in the dirt. No one says anything, but they all follow my lead. We drive back to Brittany's house where her mother offers us to stay for a few more days. And at the best of my current abilities, I kindly refuse and let Brittany know all I want is to go home. She tries to convince me to stay and relax for a few days, but when I say I don't want to be in Ohio anymore, she quickly obliges and begins loading the car.

"I'm sorry that I've been so inconsiderate," I say during the drive home.

"What are you talking about?" Brittany asks.

"You've helped me out so much and I haven't taken you into consideration. You must be tired from staying up with me and driving me everywhere. Have you even eaten these past couple of days?"

She smiles. "I told you not to worry about me, San. Whatever you need me to do, I'll do it."

I stare at her as she looks straight ahead at the road, admiring what a beautiful person she is, inside and out. "Why are you so amazing, Britt?" I ask.

She glances at me and chuckles. "What?"

"You're just so..." I shake my head, searching for the right words. "I don't know. You're just amazing. You're so kind and gentle. You make me to be a better person."

"You're already a great person, San. I know that. You just need encouragement from time to time in order to make everyone else see it."

"I'll never compare to you. Even my mom knew how wonderful you were before she even met you... She really liked you, you know."

"I really liked her too, San. She was like family. I'll always be thankful to her for having made you." She smiles. "Thanks to her, I'm able to have you in my life."

I take one of her hands from the steering wheel and squeeze it. "I'm more thankful to have you in mine. I'd be pretty lost with out you right now."

"Then it's a good thing we have each other," Brittany says before bringing our clasped palms up to her lips and kissing the back my hand.