A/N: Thanks Steph, for being the awesome English teacher that you are!

Chapter 4

"I fucking knew it..." Amber mumbled, scrolling down the webpage she had been looking for all night. She knew she had been right all along. She had been convinced from the start that something was odd.

The woman who smiled at her from the screen was dark haired, had huge brown eyes, a friendly smile and was wearing a white doctor's overall. Same name. Same city. It had to be her.

Amber didn't really know what to do with the newfound information. She didn't really know Santana, didn't know this person she was looking at and had no idea why Santana would make up such lies in the first place – all she knew was that her girlfriend was being lied to. This was not acceptable. She would not accept this, would not let this person hurt Brittany twice.

She downed the last bits of wine in her glass, leaning back in her chair, and grabbed her phone.

"Believe me now?" was all she typed as she opened the text app. Then she added the link to Loredana's web profile to the message before pushing the send-button.

Amber sighed. She actually felt sorry for Brittany. Her girlfriend was simply too good for this world, she wished people would finally stop taking advantage of that.

Xxxxxxxxxxxx

Santana was sitting on the balcony, watching the sunrise, hugging her legs in front of her chest. She let her chin rest on her knees for support, a blanket wrapped around her shoulders to protect her from the cold autumn breeze.

She felt at peace in these moments. Felt somehow connected to the last bits of beauty in this world.

Not having to wear her wig in the mornings made her feel free. The wind brushing along the skin of her neck, sending goosebumps down her arms.

There weren't many things Santana felt were worth living for, but these quiet and beautiful moments were part of the rare exceptions. It made her want to do silly things. Things she used to do when she was little. Such as putting on her red rubber boots with the big white dots on them and running through the fallen leaves, jumping into puddles, collecting chestnuts to take them all home with her. Those were happy memories. Carefree. It would be nice to relive some of them, to feel some of that childish innocence.

Then, when she'd be exhausted from all the running and jumping and laughing, she'd come home and warm up, get rid of her soaked and muddy clothes, put on her most comfortable pajamas and make herself a hot cocoa with extra whipped cream. Maybe she'd bake muffins. The whole kitchen, even the living room, would smell like fresh baked dough. It'd smell like home.

She'd sit down with those muffins and watch cartoons. Some Donald Duck cartoons maybe, with Chip'n'Dale.

The thought made her smile and she wrapped the blanket closer around her body, hiding her face between her knees.

Santana didn't know if she was sad that she was going to leave this place. She figured that, once she'd be gone, it didn't matter anymore. She'd simply disappear and it would be okay. It was worse for the people who were left behind, much worse.

She had often tried to imagine how she would have felt if Brittany's and her situation had been reversed. How she'd deal with a life without Brittany, a life where she'd lose her girlfriend to some terrible disease. The thought alone had been almost too awful to take and Santana knew she was even stronger than Brittany. Brittany lived in a happy place. The world had always been beautiful in her eyes. Who was she to take that away from her?

Santana took a deep breath, inhaling the clear and fresh air to let it fill her lungs.

She was scared. Why was she still scared? That it'd hurt? To die? No. She wasn't scared of pain anymore, she'd experienced enough of that in the past months.

Maybe she was scared of being alone. Of leaving this world alone. She'd most likely not be alone. She'd probably have doctors with her. But this was something she'd be facing all by herself. She was scared of the moment when she'd know it'd be over. Time to say good bye. Scared of knowing it was time to let go, searching for a face she loved and finding none.

The thought made her tear up.

If she was honest with herself, she knew she could leave this world a little happier if Brittany's face was the last thing she saw. Those blue eyes that she trusted. Those tiny freckles on her nose. The loving look on her face that she had given her so many times, so pure and full of honesty. She knew it'd be easier to leave if she had Brittany's hand to hold.

But no. This was not going to happen. She needed to get herself together.

What was the point in all of this anyway? She was getting weaker every day and as weird as it was to admit it – she had given up. If another chemo could keep her alive for a few weeks longer, what would it change? It wouldn't change a damn thing about her situation. She wasn't strong enough to do the things she used to like, she had lost the woman she loved, why put herself through this miserable procedure again?

She had made her decision. She'd let her body decide when it was time to go and until then, she'd try to enjoy those peaceful mornings on her balcony and the wind in her hair.

She still had her memories, memories she could be thankful for, and those had to be enough.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Brittany had woken up to Amber's text. A text from Amber in the morning was nothing unusual, but this particular morning it made her feel uncomfortable in her stomach.

She had stared at Loredana's picture for quite a while, trying hard to find an explanation, to find any reason to still trust Santana, but it didn't quite work out. She needed to know. She couldn't just ignore this.

She would have let it go if it hadn't been her whole relationship with Santana that had depended on this person. This person who suddenly seemed to exist twice or not at all or - Brittany had no idea.

At first she had wanted to discuss the issue with Amber once more but somehow she knew she had to trust her instincts this time. She had to confront Santana, simply ask her about it, without any other person being involved in this.

Yes, even after all this time, this was between the two of them. A potential lie or excuse that had affected their relationship, so this was nobody else's concern. Before she had a chance to change her mind, Brittany grabbed her coat, phone still in hand, and headed to the place she once called home.

It was hard to stand in front of the entrance door again, after all this time. Somehow Brittany wondered why Santana hadn't moved out. Wasn't this what couples usually did after a breakup? Move into new, separate places to get rid of the many memories that were still lying in these walls?

How could Santana live her life with a new woman in the same rooms she had decorated with Brittany? In the same kitchen in which they had always cooked together? Probably have sex in the same bed in which they had made love to each other?

Maybe this had all been easier for Santana. Maybe removing some pictures from the wall had been enough for her. Maybe this was none of her business since Santana had paid for most of the apartment by herself anyhow. Brittany's job as a hairdresser had never earned her that much money so Santana had always taken over the biggest part of the rent without complaint. It was normal for her, never a problem or even a question.

She rang the bell, her hands shaking. The times when she used to have a key to this door were long over.

It was possible that Santana wasn't home, that she was still at work or busy with other things, but all she could do was try.

When there was no answer she rang a second time, then a third. She was about to leave when she suddenly heard the rustling sound of the duplex system.

"Who is it?" a rather weak voice asked through the speaker. Brittany figured Santana must have taken a nap as she sounded a little drowsy.

"It's me... Brittany" she said, suddenly not so sure anymore that this was such a good idea. What was she about to do once Santana - or if Santana - let her in? Confront her right away? She knew her ex-girlfriend well enough to say that she was most likely going to switch to her defensive mode. Even if Amber was right, even if the real Loredana was not the person she had met the other day, she suddenly doubted that Santana would just admit it like that.

There was a moment of silence before the rustling noise returned.

"What are you doing here, Brit?"

Brittany had to bite her lower lip, deliberating her next words.

"Can I come in?" she replied, hoping that talking face-to-face might make it easier for her.

Silence again.

"Give me a minute okay?"

"Sure..." Brittany responded slowly, though she was pretty sure Santana hadn't heard that anymore.

She waited, rubbing her arms over her jacket. It was a cold day, a typical autumn day, and she could already see her own breath in front of her face when she talked. Stepping from one foot to the other, three minutes felt like 30 and she was relieved when she finally heard the buzzing sound of the door being unlocked.

She stepped inside, wiping her shoes on the old doormat in the hallway. Still the same doormat, yet it looked a little dirtier than last year.

The door to the apartment was ajar, yet Santana didn't seem to wait at the entrance to greet her.

Entering the room felt like an uncomfortable path down memory lane. It felt like coming back home from a long vacation. The moment when you step inside a familiar building, take in its particular smell, and everything looks the same, yet everything feels different.

Santana had changed some pieces of furniture, changed the pictures on the wall. But this was still the carpet they had picked out together back in the day when they were shopping at IKEA. Still the same sofa. Still the same coffee stain she had once left on their armchair when Lord Tubbington had jumped on her lap. Poor old Lord Tubbington. She missed him.

"I'm still in the bathroom..." Santana's voice shook her out of her thoughts and Brittany nodded to herself, sitting down on the couch, nervously straightening her shirt.

She tried not to look around too much, tried not to take in too much of that familiar feeling. She was only here to get answers. Only here to clear things up. If Santana really lied to her, for some weird reason, then she could finally move on. She would accept that Santana had a problem being honest with her. She'd leave her alone and go back to her relationship. She'd apologize to Amber. Maybe she should have listened to her in the first place.

Then Santana came out, her old sweatpants hanging loosely around her legs. Brittany knew those sweatpants, they were Santana's favorite. Her Sunday pants, as she'd liked to call them, only it was Wednesday today. The white t-shirt seemed to be three sizes too large. Her arms looked thin. Like matchsticks.

"Why didn't you call first?" Santana asked confused, her voice still tired as she let herself sink down on the armchair at the other side of the living room table.

"Oh... I'm sorry..." she continued, "I didn't offer you anything to drink..."

"It's fine, I'm good" Brittany reassured her, wondering how on earth to start the conversation now.

"I'm sorry I didn't call, it's just... I was in the neighborhood and..." she sighed. "Are you lying to me, Santana?"

Now that was a start. A very direct start.

Santana's eyes widened at the other woman's words and she frowned, her already pale face losing its last few bits of color.

"Excuse me?" she replied slowly, looking around the room to avoid Brittany's gaze.

"I'm sorry to come on to you like this, it's probably stupid and probably nothing but..." she cleared her throat, trying to search Santana's eyes to make out her reaction.

"Santana, if you didn't wanna see me anymore, you could just have told me, you know? I wouldn't be mad. I managed to get over you, I'm not planning to stalk you or whatever, so there's really no need to lie..."

"Why am I hearing the word lie so often?" Santana replied harshly, looking offended. "Who said anything about lying, I don't even know what this is about..."

"It's just..." Brittany closed her eyes for a second to regain some confidence before grabbing her iPhone. She opened the browser with the link that Amber had sent her. The link that lead her to Loredana's webpage. To the picture of a woman who had the same name but certainly not the same face as the red head who had played miniature golf with them the day before.

She reached over the table to hand Santana the phone who took it and stared at the display.

"What... this..." she stuttered. "What are you trying to tell me? All I see is some person who happens to have the same name as my girlfriend. There are probably tons of people with the same name, I -"

"Please be honest with me..." Brittany interrupted her ex-girlfriend's nervous rambling, already feeling some tears well up in her eyes. She knew Santana. She knew Amber was right. She knew Santana was lying.

Santana's expression was serious. Cold even. She put the phone back on the table, getting up from her chair.

"I guess it's for the best if you leave now."

"Why?"

"Because I'm asking you to. Because I didn't invite you. Because you can't just show up here like that and accuse me of some shit. Because we're not together anymore. Because I'm trying to forget you!"

Santana's voice was angry. Hurt. Close to breaking.

Brittany got up from the couch as she stuffed the phone back into her jeans pocket, walking over to Santana to let a hand rest on the other woman's shoulder.

"I didn't mean to upset you... I just wanted to say that... if you feel like you can't be honest with me, if you feel like you don't want this and there are things you need to hide from me... if you maybe think you can't introduce your real girlfriend to me, or, I don't know, if you two broke up already and you didn't want to tell me, then - "

"You know nothing, Brittany! Nothing, okay? So shut up and stop trying to find answers that are impossible for you to find."

Brittany felt as if she had been slapped in the face. She stared at Santana, hurt mirroring in her eyes, hugging her bag tightly in front of her chest.

"What happened to you?" Brittany whispered, quickly brushing a tear away. "You used to be so honest. You once told me you just try to be honest with people, even if you think that they suck. So why can't you be honest with me? Why can't you just tell me that you think I suck and let me go?"

Santana looked up to her, looked her straight in the eyes, her vision blurry.

"Because you don't suck, Brit" she told her, her voice shaky. "Because you never sucked. Because you've always been the only fucking good thing in my life."

This time it was Brittany who broke eye-contact, looking down at the floor.

"Then why? I don't understand... please, I just... I don't understand..."

Brittany didn't want to sound so vulnerable. She didn't want to sound desperate.

Santana sighed, looking defeated.

"She's my doctor, Brit."

Brittany looked up again, puzzled. Something felt wrong. Something felt different. Something scared her.

"She's my doctor. Not my girlfriend. She never was."

"This makes no sense..." Brittany slowly replied, wondering if this was just her mind working too slowly again or if it really was confusing.

"Brittany, I'm... I'm sick, okay?"

Santana's hand was shaking as she spoke and she stepped away, still standing dangerously close to her ex.

"Sick? But... why sick? What's wrong? Do you have a flu? My mom knows about some great meds, I could -"

"It's no flu, Brit" Santana answered slowly, her voice softer again, as if part of her had given up. "The real Loredana is an oncologist..."

Brittany's mind went blank. Oncologist? What on earth was that? Damn her lack of general knowledge. Damn her confusion when it came to complicated words. Why wasn't she smarter than that?

"Onco... onco what?" she whispered, embarassed.

"A doctor for cancer patients..." Santana explained to her, still trying to hide her tears.

"You have... you... no" Brittany brought out. "No... I ... I don't understand. She never was your girlfriend? You lied to me?"

"Yeah..."

Brittany's mind was working fast, trying to put one and one together, trying to make sense of it all.

"Why...? Why? I ... Why would you? You're sick? How sick are you? You're gonna be okay again, right? It's gonna be fine. You're gonna be fine. Why the lies? Why did you say you dated her? You told me you didn't want kids with me, Santana. I understood that. I never wanted to pressure you.. I'm.. this is so confusing..."

"I did want kids with you..." Santana said, trying to fight against a sob, yet having to smile a little at the thought. "Two at least... maybe three..."

"You're making no fucking sense!" Brittany suddenly yelled. She hated using swear words but it was too damn hard to hold them back.

"Are you fucking kidding me? Why did you break up with me? Tell me!"

Santana stepped a little closer again until she was only inches apart. She seemed to collect her strength as she swallowed hard, looking at Brittany.

"Because I'm dying, Brit."

The words felt like a knife in Brittany's chest. It still didn't make any sense. Dying? What was she telling her here? This had to be a cruel fucking joke. This was not what she had expected to hear. She could have lived with a lot of things. She could have lived with some stupid excuse like 'I didn't want you to meet my real girlfriend because I'm jealous and didn't want her to hit on you'. She could have dealt with a lot of things, but this? No. Just no.

"You're lying again. This is not funny" Brittany said, her voice numb.

"I'm not lying, Brittany. For the first time in a long time I'm actually being honest with you."

She didn't try to hide the tears anymore that were now running down her cheeks.

"I'm dying and I've known for quite a while. And I wanted you to move on without me. I wanted you to live a happy life..."

"You... you..." Brittany growled, feeling how her face was turning red, heat flushing through her veins, to her cheeks.

"You're... you're actually telling me that you broke up with me because you were dying? What kind of messed up shit is this? No... no.." she cried. "No, you cannot die. You cannot die, Santana, no. There have to be ways... there have to be ways to make you okay again, no!"

"See...?" Santana said softly, smiling sadly. "This is why I didn't tell you. This is what I wanted to avoid. To make you go through this. To see this look on your face. To see you so scared. I didn't want this..."

Brittany was crying bitterly now, pushing Santana's hand away as she was trying to stroke her arm.

"You fucking broke up with me because you didn't trust me to be there for you..." she sobbed. "You fucking broke up with me even though you still loved me. And I loved you. With all my heart. Always have. And you just pushed me away and made me wonder what I'd done wrong. Made me feel guilty. Made me wonder every single night what I did to deserve this. If I was too stupid for you. If I failed you. You break up with me and don't tell me you're fucking dying!"

She was yelling again, not even recognizing herself anymore. She knew she had never felt this way before. She had been sad and had felt crushed when Lord Tubbington had died. She had felt desperate after her breakup with Santana. But this? She wasn't sure she was capable of feeling this much, of feeling this terrible.

"I could have been there for you, Santana. I would have been fucking there for you. We could have been together. You didn't even ask me! Didn't you think I had a right to know? We could have fucking been together and you just stole me a year of my life with you. You just took this away from me even though we loved each other. You're crazy, Santana. You're fucking crazy. I'm not the stupid one, you are!"

Brittany wasn't used to feeling so much rage nor being unable to control her own words.

Santana was looking down on the carpet again, silent.

"I'm sorry..."

"How much longer do you have?" Brittany sobbed in a high-pitched voice, terrified to hear the answer.

Santana swallowed.

"They can't really say... maybe a couple more months... maybe a year... I don't know."

Brittany felt her own fingernails dig hard into her flesh as she was making a fist.

"Why did you do this to me..." she whispered. "Why...?"

It wasn't a question that required an answer. There were no answers to any of this.

Santana was next to her again, grabbing her hand, squeezing it tightly.

"I never stopped loving you, Brit..." she told her when their eyes met again. It felt suffocating. As if there was no oxygen left in the room.

Then, before Brittany knew it, Santana's lips were on hers. She was pressing her softly against the wall behind them, both of their eyes pressed shut tightly, cheeks still wet.

They didn't move, not even their lips. They just stood there, pressed against each other, hearts beating fast.

For only a moment, Santana was with her again. Her Santana. Her skin. Her smell. So close to her. For only a second it felt like home. As if it could all be okay. As if this was just a fucking bad nightmare. As if the whole past year was just a stupid dream and when she opened her eyes, they'd be happy again. They'd be in their living room, about to cook dinner together. About to plan their future.

But Brittany knew, once she opened her eyes again, reality would hit her once more. Santana would still be sick. They'd still be broken up. Santana would still die. And she was still dating Amber.

Amber.

Brittany seemed to wake up from her daydream, softly pushing Santana away.

"I... I can't..." she whispered, her whole body feeling hot. "I... I have to go..."

Santana didn't say anything, didn't try to hold her back. She just stood there, watching Brittany run out the door.

Brittany ran along the streets, not even knowing where she was heading. She ran as fast as her feet would carry her, until she felt completely exhausted, bending over to catch her breath. She could feel her pulse hammering in her temples, could feel her chest closing up.

She looked around, saw cars driving along the streets. Saw people talking to each other, chatting about the weather. Saw kids on their bikes. Saw old couples taking their dogs out for a walk.

Life was still normal. Life was going on for everyone else. The whole city was entirely unaffected by what she had just found out. But for Brittany everything had changed. From one second to the next. A part of her felt as if it had died and she had no fucking idea how to handle it. No idea at all.

A/N2: Oh my, lots of angst, forgive me. I know it's hard to take, but would still love to hear your thoughts. It will get better.