Hey guys! So I'm happy to tell you that I've completed three chapters that will be uploaded today! I'm just at the airport at the moment and I only have time to upload two chapters, but enjoy and I'll have the third completed chapter up later today! Enjoy! :)

"This sucks," I muttered.

Never in my life did I imagine I would ever be sitting in the waiting room of a hospital, the suspense and concern for my beloved eating at my heart like some sort of zombie. Brittany agreed to do the surgery, just because she wanted to live for as long as possible. I was happy that she wanted to live just as badly as I wanted her to, but I knew what this meant. A longer time of watching her suffer, a longer time of having mini-heart attacks every time she would faint or having a coughing fit. From this point on until she finally stopped breathing, I would live in fear. Fear of losing her, fear of not being ready. Right now I wasn't ready. I wasn't sure if I would ever be ready.

Quinn was there to console me though, just what nurses were supposed to do. But she wasn't comforting me as my wife's nurse. No, she was comforting me as my best friend, the friend that held me close since we were puny freshmen. Granted, we were sucky friends toward each other in high school, but as we grew older we grew to properly respect each other as friends. And I was glad, because I wasn't sure who else would be here to console me.

She had her hand on my back, rubbing it as she tried to comfort me. I wasn't crying right now, I was much too scared for Brittany to even breathe properly. Since we arrived at the hospital my heart was pounding in my chest, and there were moment where I thought I would faint on the spot.

"It's going to be okay," she spoke softly.

I was so sick of people saying it was going to be okay. Sure, I told Brittany that, but only because she was the one who really needed comfort. I didn't need other people bullshitting me. It wasn't going to be okay. It was never going to be okay.

I glared at her. "Quinn, that sort of shit might work on Britt, but it's not working on me." I ran my fingers through my hair in frustration. "It's not going to be okay. She's dying, Quinn. Dying. As in she might be in a coffin in a few months."

I was bitterly pessimistic lately, and it wasn't good for my own health. High blood pressure was something Mike warned me about, but I didn't listen to him. What I was stating was fact. Brittany was dying, and nothing was going to change that. Not even me.

"Santana," Quinn sighed, "please, don't be like that."

"Be like what?" I snapped. "It's true. You don't know what I have to deal with Quinn. You don't have the person you love most in the entire universe dying right in front of you!"

Snapping at her was completely unnecessary, but I tended to externalize my problems and she unfortunately was the only person around I could take all my frustration out on. The old Quinn Fabray would've bitten right back, but this new, more humble Quinn took a more peaceful approach.

"You're right," she agreed. "I don't know what it's like to watch the person I love die. But I do know what it's like to watch one of your best friends die."

Yeah, she was right. Brittany was still very dear to her, and perhaps her pain was just as badly as mine. My eyes burned a little with oncoming tears, but I pushed them back. I wasn't going to cry, I was afraid as I going to jinx Brittany's surgery. Instead, I rested my head on Quinn's shoulder, instantly sorry for biting at her. She took my silent apology and leaned her head sideways so her head was leaning on my head.

At least I wasn't alone in my pain. Perhaps this journey would be little less painful with other people around.

I popped my head into Brittany's room, and saw my beautiful wife looking weak but still living on her bed. The surgery must've kicked her ass, I was sure, but I was happy to see her in one piece. She saw me and smiled, and I smiled back. Even out of surgery she looked like a goddess.

"Hi," I greeted, and I walked towards her and sat by her on the bed. I was careful not to touch her anywhere on her torso since that was where they opened her up, and I didn't want to kill her. She was going to die anyway, I just didn't want to be the one to cause it.

"Hey," she greeted me back, her voice quiet and weak. I took a moment to look into her eyes to see if there was any sort of light in there, any sparkles that I missed. But none. There was no light in those beautiful eyes of hers. Where was it? I missed it.

"How are you feeling?" I asked as I placed my hand on her cold and almost limp one.

"Like shit."

I chuckled. "Not even a Lopierce can overcome the after-effects of surgery."

"That Anastasia they gave me gave me awesome dreams though."

Did she just? Oh, silly Brittany. "Anastasia? You mean anesthesia?"

"Yeah, that."

I chuckled once more. At least she was still simple Brittany after experiencing such a harsh surgery.

I decided to take a risk and leaned in to give her a kiss, since God knows she needed it after being under the knife for a few hours, but before I could do it I heard a voice from the doorway.

"Santana, can't you keep it in your pants for one day? She just got out of surgery."

The voice was too deep and obnoxious to be Quinn or Mike, and before I even turned around I knew exactly who it was.

"Fuck off, Puckerman," I told the tall Jewish ex-bad boy with a smile.

Puck smirked as he leaned against the doorway, arms crossed. He looked exactly how he'd been looking since graduation – wife beater covered with oil, jeans, and worn-out timberlands. I used to think he wasn't hot without his Mohawk, but I grew to love his buzz cut. It was better than a Jewfro.

"Hello to you too, Lesbionic." Ugh, he'd been calling me that for years, I hated it. He walked into the room towards Brittany and me, and he leaned in to give Brittany a kiss on the head. "How's the nicer half of Santittany?"

"Brittana," I corrected, because Brittany always came first.

"I've felt way better," Brittany informed him, but she couldn't help but smile.

Puck flashed her a smile then turned to me and gave me a kiss on my head. Gross, that was so un-Puck of him. "Keep your man saliva off of me," I muttered.

Puck laughed. "Are you one of those fundamentalist lesbians that grimace at the thought of a penis?"

I rolled my eyes. "You know I'm not."

"I figured you imagined me with a vagina or something every time we did it," he said with a shrug.

Brittany shook her head, not having the energy for this. "Okay, I don't need to here this."

Puck smirked at her. "Hey, you're another one. But you're acceptable 'cause you go both ways."

I smacked his arm hard, but he did nothing but laugh. I'm sure he couldn't feel anything under those ridiculously large pecks anyway.

"Okay, you were forbidden from talking about either of us having sex with you the moment we said 'I do'," I told him angrily. He winked at me, which made me hit him again.

Mike walked into the room, and upon seeing Puck he smiled. "Hey man!"

"Changster. What's up?" Puck gave Mike a bro hug, acting like they hadn't seen in each other years.

"Nothing much. How's the shop?"

"Pretty good. I'm glad Kurt's dad let me have it, I always figured I was going to be a mechanic."

Mike nodded. "That's cool."

"And you? How's being the youngest doctor in Ohio?"

Mike laughed. "I would've loved dancing more, but you know how having strict Asian parents work."

"You're still an awesome doctor Mike," Brittany chimed in.

"Thanks Britt. Right, so the latest report on you." He looked down at his clipboard, and Puck took this as his signal to sit down in one of the chairs. I squeezed Brittany's hand lightly, ready to hear what Mike had to say. All eyes were on him right now.

"The operation went well," Mike announced, and I let myself breathe. Thank God, that was good right? Even though that wouldn't stop the cancer completely, it at least gave her more time. "The cancer shouldn't spread for a while now. But right now I have to ask you something. Do you want to do chemotherapy?"

I looked at Brittany, my eyes instantly telling her to say yes. She looked at me and nodded. Yeah, she wanted to do it to. We both wanted to give her more time. Her decision already made, she looked at Mike.

"Yeah Mike."

Mike nodded, but he wasn't finished. "I just want you to make sure you completely understand. If you don't do chemo, then you only have a few months, but those few months will be as painless as possible. But if you do chemo, you have a shot of living for up to five more years, but it'll be extremely difficult and painful."

Was it selfish that I wanted her to suffer as long as she was still with me? There was no way just a few months was enough time to properly prepare for her departure from earth. Five more years sounded more like it, maybe I would be at least a little ready in that time. But a few months was unacceptable. I needed her to live longer.

I was alerted by how silent Brittany was, like she was seriously thinking about what to do. Wasn't there only one option? The option to live longer! She kept looking at me, then at Mike, then back to me, and I could almost see the steam coming out of her ears from thinking so much. Oh God, she wasn't going to choose the one where she only lived a few months, was she?

"I'm going to do it Mike," she told him firmly, and I felt relieved. "Five years sounds like a good deal to me."

Mike smiled weakly and nodded. "Alright, then I'm going to ask you to come back next week so we can start the chemo then."

I smiled at Brittany, and she smiled back. But there was something about her smile that didn't seem right. Something that unsettled me.

It was almost like she wasn't happy with her choice.

"So then I was like 'yeah I'm twenty-three' and she was suddenly all over me! I don't know what's with these older women but they just love young meat."

My ears were bleeding as I was forced to hear Puck's stories of his sexual escaped with woman twice his age. It was gross. Brittany was having a kick out of it though, but she had to keep the laughing to a minimum because it hurt to laugh.

Quinn suddenly appeared in the doorway, a smile on her face. She must've been attracted to the sound of a laughing and happy Brittany. "Are we having fun in here?"

Puck turned to see Quinn, and his smile weakened a little. I saw this and smiled.

"Hey Quinn," he greeted her.

"Hi Puck," she sang.

Oh awkwardness. I loved it. There was a delicious sound of silence for a few seconds, and I waited to see which one of the two would break it. Oh, this was too much.

"How's Sam?" he asked her, though it was obvious he didn't really care how Trouty Mouth was.

"He's good. He's been really busy with work and all that, but that's okay because I've been busy being here for forty-eight hour shifts."

Puck nodded slowly. "That sucks."

"Yeah."

Oh more awkward silence. I felt a laugh come up my throat but I had to hold it back. I looked over at Brittany, who wasn't really smiling or wanting to live. If anything she looked a little horrified at this scene. Oh, guess I was the only one who found this funny.

"Well, I have to checks to do so um, I'll see you guys later," Quinn said, already rushing out the door.

Puck opened his mouth to say goodbye, but she disappeared because a syllable even came out. He let out a sigh in defeat.

Finally I let out a laugh, and he looked at me with a scowl. What? It was hilarious!

"What? Oh c'mon, you don't find it at least a little funny?"

"No actually, I don't," Puck growled, and Brittany nodded in agreement.

"Please. Five years later and you guys are still awkward around each other. Yeah, it was a shitty break-up but you guys were kids, you're adults now."

Puck rolled his eyes. "I'm sorry, how would you like it if Brittany left you for Artie?"

That name wasn't never allowed in my presence. The smirk on my face disappeared instantly and I glared at him.

"You never mention that in my presence. Ever," I snapped.

Brittany sighed. "Santana –"

I held my hand up to silence Brittany, my eyes still on Noah. "You never mention him. Am I clear?"

"Santana, when have I ever been afraid of you?"

"Since right now. Have you ever fucked with a girl from Lima Heights, Puckerman? Hm?"

"Santana!" Brittany cried. "Stop, please. This is so not the time to start fighting."

"Tell him to never let that name escape his lips in front of me ever again," I told her. I was about two seconds away from claw Puck's eyes out right now.

Brittany looked at Puck with pleading eyes. "Puck, please."

Puck rolled his eyes. "Alright fine, sorry."

"Thank you."

"Yeah Noah. Thanks," I muttered.

Now it was just Brittany and me, and it was around ten o'clock at night. After Puck left, the atmosphere was a little heavier and more depressing. Being alone with your dying wife wasn't exactly something to be happy about, and it was a lot easier dealing with this with other people by my side. Where the hell was Quinn?

"Aren't you tired?" I heard Brittany ask. I looked up from the chair after spacing out. Whoa, when was the last time I heard her talk? It must've been half an hour.

"Hm? Oh, no not really. Aren't you? You're the one who had surgery today."

Brittany nodded. "Yeah, a little."

I got up from my chair and walked over to her, but didn't sit on the bed. I just tried to fluff her pillows and pulled her blanket over her to make sure she was nice and warm. It was really cold in hospitals, even though it was the middle of the summer. It was a wonder how no one had frozen to death.

"Go to sleep then," I told her.

She grabbed my hand and looked up at me. I got lost in her dead blue eyes, the ones with no sparkles. No matter the time of day, or where we were, she always looked to perfect, and every day I was reminded of how lucky I was to be hers. She didn't deserve anything of this, she was too innocent and beautiful for such a fate. Was she really dying? Why kind of sick God would do this to someone like her? It was no wonder why this world sucked ass. He kept killing all of the good people that deserved to be here and let the assholes who didn't live.

"San," she called to me. "do you think I should go through with the chemistry therapy?"

"Chemotherapy," I corrected her. "And yes."

"Why?"

I looked away for a moment, and at last tears started to roll down my cheeks. It was the first time today I actually cried, as my eyes were too tired to hold anything back anymore. I didn't mean to let her see me cry but I was just too tired.

"I want you to live, Britt."

"I'm going to die anyway, Sannie."

I glared at her, the tears never ceasing. "Don't say that," I said in cracking voice.

"But I am-"

"Brittany, please, shut up."

Her own eyes were beginning to water as well. No, that just made me want to cry even more.

"San, eventually I'm not going to be here anymore, chemistry therapy or not. I just want to know why you want me to do it."

"Because I'm not ready to lose you!"

She began to cry, but she refused to break down. Clearly she was the stronger one right now. It seemed lately we were taking turns on who was supposed to be strong in each situation. Today it was her turn because I was already on the verge of breaking down.

"San, you're never going to be ready."

I shook my head in disagreement. "You're wrong, Britt. I have more time with you having the chemotherapy than just leaving you alone to see what happens!"

I sounded so selfish, but I didn't care. Losing her was never going to be an option, but expanding her lifespan was and that was better than nothing.

"Santana…"

"Brittany, I'm done talking about this. Please, no more."

We had both stopped crying, and we were just left to stare in each other's red and swollen eyes. At first I thought her eyes had gotten their sparkle back, but that was just the moisture of her eyeballs. Damn.

"Santana," she called me again.

"What?" If she was going to continue this I was going to have to smack her. Or run out of the room.

"Can I have a goodnight kiss?"

I started to smile, but the smile never finished. I obeyed her and leaned down to kiss her softly on the lips, and she weakly kissed me back. She still tasted the same, sick or not, and as long as that was the same that I would be okay. To an extent.

I pulled away and looked down at her. "Goodnight," I whispered. She smiled at me and turned over away from me so she could finally sleep in peace.

I went over and sat back in the chair. My body was aching for a bed to sleep in, but I wasn't about to even consider going back home. I didn't want to leave Brittany for one second. She was dying, and I had to enjoy every second of every day with her. The clock was ticking, and it was the ticking that made this all so painful.

My body accepted that I wasn't going to get up and go home, so it allowed me to fall into a deep slumber.

More darkness. And more pain.