Hello, lovelies. Why has it taken me so long to update this? Well, really, it's because I'm a terrible person, I hated that canon kept changing as I was writing, and it's easier now with all of the characters' personalities canonly established by the end of S2 to go on with my AU. Also, I've been busy reading other authors' wonderful stories, obsessing over my deviantart, cranking out finals, and procrastinating. Not much else to say besides where the heck did this chapter come from? I was NOT planning on at least half of this at freaking all. I wrote things I never thought I would write when I first started this story. There are some huge differences from canon in this (I am still trying desperately to keep everyone in character if you're wondering). Hoping you enjoy. Thanks for reading.

Disclaimer: I own nothing from Glee, especially not the razorblades Santana keeps in her hair; however, Calvin and Gertrude are most definitely mine (not that I really want Calvin - the jerk).

Santana Lopez was in her room, giving phone sex to her cousin from her father's cell-phone, when her cell-phone vibrated. She looked at the caller I.D. It was Brittany.

"Calvin? I'm cutting you off."

"What? No! Sanny, you know Gertrude isn't giving me any! Please, Sanny. You promised at least until next week."

"Not what I meant, dipwad, but seeing as how it's pretty pathetic for your cousin to be a stand-in for your girlfriend, maybe I should cut you off from that."

"Wait, what did you mean?"

"This conversation is over, Cal, and find yourself another chick whose name isn't Gertrude. She might be less of a prude. I needs to talk to my friend."

"Santana, I'm still in a very uncomfortable situation right now; could you please just help me fin-" he was cut off by Santana hanging up on him.

Good thing he doesn't know my cell-phone number, or I'd probably have that horny bitch calling me at all hours of the night. The things I do for family, Santana thought.

The cell-phone vibrated again as Santana hadn't picked up the first time before it went to voicemail.

"Ready to get our sweet, lady kisses on sometime, Britt-Britt? I'm sorry about the other day when I stormed out of Glee. My razorblades were digging too deep into my weave that day."

"S-S-Santana?" Brittany's voice quivered, seeming as if she had not heard anything Santana had just asked.

Santana was immediately worried about the tone of her voice, "What is it, Britts?"

"I broke my fondue pot."

"How do you break..." Santana began to wonder as a better question came to mind, "Why are you calling me about this? Isn't StubblesMcCripplepants great with technology?"

"Fondue isn't technology, silly," Brittany explained, "It's magic. And Artie would probably look at me like I don't understand. I hate that. He never says anything, but sometimes I think he's frustrated with me."

Santana sighed, "I don't know anything about fondue that would help you fix it, sweetie. Maybe you could ask Lord Tubbington. Now, about those sweet, lady kisses..."

"Lord Tubbington! Of course. I know what to do, now. Santana, I've been thinking about how sad Artie was when he found out Tina kissed Mike through a cell-phone picture somebody snapped at their Asian camp. We always talk about our feelings, but I feel like I can't tell him everything. I feel like if I told him how I feel about you, he would be sad."

"How do you feel about me, Brittany?" Santana asked with the faintest glimmer of hope.

"Well, I love you, but it's confusing because I love Artie too."

"Why are you telling me this?"

"I think we should stop our sweet, lady kisses."

"So, that's it? You're cutting me out of your life so you won't have to be confused about me anymore?"

"No, Santana, I-"

Santana cut her off, "No, Britts. I understand. You're choosing who's more important to you. I hope Lord Tubbington can help you with that fondue." She hung up and reached for her father's cell-phone, dialing her cousin.

"Calvin, even though I am in no way, turned on by this, I need distraction right now, but if you shout out, 'Gertrude,' again during, I will end this call."

Brittany stared at her broken fondue pot and then at Lord Tubbington.

"Lord, I need your help," she told him. He got up from his spot on the bed and plopped down onto Brittany's lap.

"Brittany?" Brittany's mother called.

"Yeah, mom, come in," Brittany told her.

"Where is the fondue pot? You know that we have to-" she cut herself off as her gaze fell onto the pot, "Brittany, darling, is there something wrong with the fondue pot?"

"Lord Tubbington broke it, mom," Brittany told her. The cat then hissed and jumped off of her lap.

"Okay, honey," her mother said before closing the door.

Lord Tubbington stared at Brittany, obviously upset.

"Lord Tubbington, I'm sorry. It's just I knew mom would believe that you broke it because she saw you break the last one."

The cat continued his glare.

"I couldn't ask Artie to come. I just couldn't."

The cat tilted his head, as if inquiring why.

"He... he wouldn't understand. If Santana knew how then maybe she..."

The cat hissed.

"You don't like Santana?"

Lord Tubbington purred, indicating that the opposite was true.

"Do you not like Artie, then?"

The cat still purred, but not as loudly.

"I thought you're not supposed to like both of them?" Brittany wondered.

Lord Tubbington glared at her, purring louder than both times before.

Brittany's eyes widened happily, "Do you mean that I can love both of them?"

Lord Tubbington purred even louder.

"So I don't have to choose?" she asked.

The purring stopped, followed by a hiss.

"But who should I choose? I'm not sure who I love more," Brittany wondered. The cat's gaze shifted to the fondue pot, and suddenly Brittany understood what she needed to do.

"Oh, Lord, thank you!" Brittany exclaimed. Lord Tubbington purred a little bit once more, but then stopped and resumed his glare.

Brittany realized that she had lied about the fondue pot to her mother, making the cat angry with her, "Lord Tubbington, I shall never lie again. You are the most wonderful cat ever. I will sneak you ice-cream at night, even though mom is taking it away from you as punishment." Lord Tubbington waddled back to Brittany's lap where he started purring again.

"Sit."

"Azimio I-" Dave tried.

Azimio stopped him, "Shut yo' mouth, boy. We are going to have a freakin' uncomfortable talk about yo' guy issues, and we'll both be better friends because of it. Best Buds' Bond."

Dave sighed, and did as he was told, sitting in the armchair chair next Azimio's bed, "Fine, Az."

Azimio took his seat on the bed and looked intently at the inhabitant of his chair, "Now, very importantly, have you ever had a crush on me?"

David was about to laugh, but then realized his friend was serious, so instead gaped at Azimio in shock, "No offense, Z, but you're not really my type."

"Well, what is yo' type then?" Azimio prodded.

"Apparently, so gay that he's an honorary girl," Dave answered, trying to bring some humor in, but it mostly sounded sad.

"Okay, when did yo' man-crush on Hummel first make its presence known?"

"Man-crush? Really, Z?"

"He's a man; you're crushing on him. If he was a girl, I might even say girl-crush," Azimio explained sternly. Dave laughed at that. Oh, how I've missed him, Dave thought to himself.

"I'm not sure when it really started. I thought he was attractive since junior high at least, but I didn't really pay as much attention to it until high school. Freshman year, I was worried that I might be gay, and that was before Hummel was even out. To be honest, I wasn't even sure he was gay and I figured that if a guy who seemed and acted as straight as me could be having those feelings, then maybe a guy who did all the stereotypical gay things wasn't actually gay. Does that make any sense?"

"Yeah, actually, it kind of does," Azimio acknowledged.

"I convinced myself that there was no way he was gay, that I was the only freaky fag at the school. So, I was a little mad at him. I was upset that he got to do all of those things, have that high-pitched voice, wear those designer clothes, tramp around the halls like he owned it or something, and I was the one who might be gay. I kept telling myself that I was straight, you know? I mean I can still tell when a girl looks good. So, I used that as evidence for myself that I was attracted to girls.

"But I couldn't keep myself away from him. When I started picking on him more and more, and he started giving his comebacks, it was even worse. Maybe that's when I started falling, when I started to realize how quick on his feet and witty he was. Because I couldn't keep myself away from him, because I was always subconsciously longing to hear his voice. The only excuse I had to be around him – I was still scared of being labeled as a freak and losing my status by trying to join Glee Club or anything else to be near him in a friendly way, plus the damage had already been done – was to bully him, and I had plenty of straight friends who had the same thing in mind.*Azimio cringed a little guiltily at that*

"So, we kept picking on him, pinning his lawn furniture to his roof, throwing pee balloons, throwing him into dumpsters, all that stuff, you know? You were there for half of it, Az. I always felt bad about it deep down, but whenever I started to regret what I was doing, I shoved those thoughts to the back of my mind. Then he came out, and I didn't know what to freaking do. I had been telling myself that nobody at the school was like me, but it ended up being that the guy I'd been strangely attracted to was gay. I felt so relieved and so angry at the same time. It was the most annoying thing in the world to see him around the halls parading who he was and still have friends. I knew he was happier than I was."

"So, that's it?" Azimio asked him incredulously, "That's how you fell for Hummel? Seeing him in the halls and him backmouthing your insults?"

"Yes and no," Dave answered reluctantly.

"What do you mean by 'yes and no', boy?" Azimio demanded.

Dave answered nervously, "I-I didn't know I was in love with him until something happened."

"First off, did you just use the L word? Second, what exactly was this 'something'?"

Dave chose to ignore the first half of Azimio's question, "I-I kind of sort of might have... have..."

"Well, spill, boy!"

"I kissed him, alright? One day, after I shoved Hummel into a row of lockers, I went back to the locker room and he followed me."

"So, wait - were y'all like dating for awhile or something? Is that why you looked so angry by the bleachers?"

"No, Z, and don't interrupt me," Dave admonished, "He... he asked me what my problem was, and I told him some B.S. about him coming in to take a peek at my junk. Then, he told me I wasn't his type. I told him to get out of my face, but he didn't back down. He started talking about how I was a 'nothing but a scared little boy who couldn't handle how extraordinarily ordinary' I was, and I just couldn't take it. I'd been pretending or unsure or whatever it was for so long. I had to find out if I was actually gay. Kurt was right there, in front of me looking ridiculously hot, having just told me everything about myself that I hated. Everything I hated that I was doing. I didn't want to be that person anymore.

"I did something really, really terrible. *Azimio looked as if he wanted to open his mouth again, but was silenced by a glare from Dave.* Before he told me how 'extraordinarily ordinary' I was, I told him to get out of my face. He wouldn't. He just kept standing up for himself. Here I was calling him a fairy and a lady when he was so much braver than me. I was so frustrated, so worked up. I thought I was going to punch him, but for some reason, my eyes fell to his lips, and I kissed him instead."

"OH MY LORD!" Azimio shouted.

"Shut up!" Dave countered, grabbing a pillow from Azimio's bed and hitting him with it.

"It's just... I mean, I thought that you would've I don't know, let the kid know you bat for his team before you kiss him."

"I know," Dave muttered.

"Did he... you know?"

"Did he what?" Dave asked, "Did he want it? No. He didn't. I was so caught up in the moment, in how good and right it felt to finally kiss him, that I tried to go in for a second one. He pushed me away, and I didn't realize until he did that how horrified he looked. I was so upset with myself for letting my guard down, with him for not wanting to kiss me, and even more with myself for enjoying it."

"So, that's why he transferred? Because you kissed him?"

"No."

"Then why did he?"

"I threatened to kill him if he told anyone. He was scared to death and got me expelled. The school board overturned my sentence, and his protective dad had him at that prep-school before I came back."

"Oh."

"Yeah. Oh," Dave confirmed.

"So, he came back with a boyfriend and you haven't explained anything to him?"

"Yeah. I told him I was sorry, and I was ready to accept myself, but that's basically what it's been. The whole glee club is awkard around me. None of them know what happened in the locker room, but everyone knows I used to bully him. When I apologized and asked to join glee, Kurt stood in front of everyone and asked them not to judge me because they don't know what it's like to go through what I was going through. I wanted to run up and kiss him, but I didn't because that would have been really awkward and he's taken."

"So, do you know his boyfriend at all?" Azimio wondered

"His name is Blaine Anderson, he goes to that prep school, he's a hobbit who sings, and he tried to help me out."

Azimio looked at him, a little shocked, "He tried to help you out? Shouldn't he be like trying to ward you off of Kurt or something?"

"Before Kurt even transferred, he came all the way to McKinley to tell me that I'm not alone, being gay is something very hard to come to terms with, and he understands that it's confusing. I got angry and pushed him into a fence. Kurt immediately defended him. Blaine Anderson is a handsome, compassionate, too-freaking-perfect guy, and Kurt is most definitely in love with him."

"Well, that sucks."

"It sucks to be me."

"Isn't there anybody here it doesn't suck to be?"

"You remember the lyrics to the show-tunes playing in the car?"

"Hey, they were catchy."

"Maybe I will have a friend in glee," Dave said, with a mischievious glint in his eye.

"Oh no. I am not joining yo' little Glee Club. I can't sing."

"You know there are certain benefits to joining."

"What? Secretly mooning over yo' crush?"

"Yes, and that crush is named Mercedes Jones."

"I do not still have a crush on Mercedes."

"Oh really?"

"Yes."

"Are you willing to say that under Bond?" Dave inquired. Azimio promptly fled the room while Dave laughed.

"Hey, fair lady," Artie winked at Brittany as he wheeled up to her; upon seeing her expression, he changed his tone, "What's wrong, Brittany?"

Brittany looked at him worriedly, "Artie, you have been an amazing boyfriend, but I can't help it. I don't love you enough."

"I don't understand," Artie stated, looking up in confusion.

Brittany looked down and explained simply, "I'm breaking up with you."

"I don't understand," he repeated, his voice going dead.

"Of course you understand. If I understand it, then you do too. You're the smartest person I know."

"Is it because of Santana?" Artie asked, remembering all of the activities Santana and Brittany were rumored to have done the previous year as well as part of this year.

"It's a little because of Santana. But she's not the reason. It's because of me, Artie."

"I don't understand, Brittany."

"Artie, you're making me sad."

Artie responded angrily, "I'm making you sad? You're breaking up with me. Why would that make you sad? You get to move on with your life."

"I love you, Artie."

"Don't say that to me!"

"But, I do."

"You can't tell me that you love me after you've decided to dump me," Artie snapped.

Brittany fell onto the floor and put her head into her hands.

Artie looked at her, his expression softening.

"I'm sorry, Brittany," he said, "It's just, I love you, I want to be with you, and now you're telling me that I can't, but you still love me. It just hurts me."

Brittany looked up at Artie and suddenly threw her arms around him.

"Artie, I have to break up with you. I love you, but I don't love you enough. If I didn't break up with you it would be like a lie. I promised Lord Tubbington I would never lie again after I blamed him for breaking my fondue pot when it was really me," Brittany explained pulling out of her hug just enough so she was looking Artie in the eye, trying to make him understand.

"What does a promise you made to your cat have to do with this, Brittany?" Artie asked the woman he loved a little frustratedly.

Brittany stared at Artie hard, "It has everything to do with this. Lord Tubbington helped me figure out that if I loved you enough for us to always be together, I wouldn't love someone else at the same time, maybe even more."

"Brittany, get off of me."

"Artie?"

"Get off."

Brittany did as she was told. Artie wheeled away, in a tear-filled state. He was going fast. They were on the second floor. The stairwell was coming up. For once in her life, Brittany understood what was happening before it happened.

"Artie!" she screamed out. He didn't stop. She ran after him, but the wheelchair was faster and the school was sloping down towards the stairwell, as Figgins was still too cheap to fix the building's foundation, making him pick up speed as he rolled down the hall. She picked up her speed as well, but the gap between the two of them kept increasing as the gap between Artie and the stairs lessened.

Artie closed his eyes, only wanting to get away from Brittany. He'd had two girlfriends, both of whom he'd loved. The first had been his first kiss, broken his heart, and left him because she found someone else while she was still with him. The second had taken his virginity, broken his heart, and left him because she loved someone else while she was still with him. What would his third girlfriend do to him before she broke his heart and dumped him because of someone else? Be another first? His wife? Then divorce him for their gardener? You're pathetic, Abrams. Why can't a girl ever be happy with you? he asked himself. Artie stopped wheeling and let the slope carry him with his eyes still closed.

Artie crashed into the wall instead of his wheelchair taking a dive down the stairwell. He didn't make any moves to stop the impact, and when it happened, he felt nothing. The velocity of his wheelchair prior to the crash was so much that he was flung out of the wheelchair towards the stairs when he made contact with the wall. His back hit the stairs, and his glasses flew off. Artie's legs splayed out uselessly as he tumbled, his head hitting the hard angles of the steps more than once as he continued to fall, but still he felt nothing, except a dull ache from inside his chest, threatening to take over all his senses. He landed at the bottom of the stairs, and after a few moments, Brittany reached him. She immediately hunched over him, and started squeezing his leg.

"Artie, don't go!" Brittany shouted at him, "I love you."

Artie remained unresponsive. His blue eyes were far off, even though they were looking at her. They looked so strange without his glasses. Even when they were alone, making out, Artie had his glasses. It looked like something was missing. Like something was gone. Brittany gripped his leg harder, hoping to let him know she was there.

"Artie, I love you. You're scaring me so much," Brittany pleaded, "Don't go."

Artie vaguely registered that Brittany was saying something. He looked down, and realized she was squeezing his leg. Her mouth was moving, and she looked worried. That wasn't good. Artie didn't want her to be worried. He wanted to tell her not to worry, but her face was fading away; she was leaving him. Right before it faded, Artie could have sworn Brittany's face was the exact make of an angel's, but then she was gone, and the world was black.

Yes, I ended the chapter like this. Wasn't this supposed to be fluffy? Aaah *hides*. I hope the Dave/Azimio talk was okay. Also, if you're reading this for Klaine, I'm sorry they didn't show up except in talk here. They will be back (with weapons?).