Death. It's just a small word, but there is so much meaning. 

That one word will change everything if it becomes more than just a small word. If that small word becomes reality, it can, and it will, change everything. Death isn't something that people are unaware of. Everyone knows what it is, everyone knows what it does. But not everyone accepts it. People shy away from it. It's the loss of something, the loss of a life. A life that means millions to at least someone. 

When you lose that teddy bear that you've slept with since you were little, you fear you'll never sleep again. You regret not holding onto that bear for dear life, you regret not taking it everywhere with you and making sure you knew where it was, but mostly you just regret not looking after it the way you should of done. Then you realise there is nothing you can do, it's gone. That teddy is gone forever. So you buy a new one, treat this one with much more care and you will care for it the way you should with the first bear, then every memory of the other one has completely left your mind.

But with a life, it's so much different. You lose a sister, a brother, a family member, a partner. The death of the presence you always held so close is scary. It's powerful, and it's controlling. This time, the regrets don't matter. It's always about the "what ifs"'s and the "why didn't"'s. You can't replace this; you can't replace one life with a different one. With someone close to you, you feel a tether. It's always there, until death comes and the tether to this other person disappears and they aren't there anymore. Once you've lost them, they're gone. No more late night chats, no more spilling of feelings, no more memories to be made. This person has gone. It's hard to accept you could never imagine the person on the other end of this tether not being there and you didn't want to imagine it. 

The saying says that you don't know what you have until it's gone, but Santana always knew what she had. She knew full well what she had, she had Brittany. She and Brittany had it all. But that's the thing, Brittany and death had so much more. 

It's unbeatable, death, we don't want it but it just won't go away. We don't want to have to accept the fact that it will take someone we love away, so until the time comes, we don't even think about it. And then, all at once, you have to accept it. You have to accept death, and you have to accept the fact that this person has gone, and you will never see them again. 

Santana didn't want to accept it, but she always knew that she had too. She tried and tried to ignore the words, hoping, praying, begging that this was all just a terrible nightmare and she would wake up at any minute with Brittany laid next to her, alive and well. But she wouldn't. And Santana didn't want to accept this. She didn't want to hear it. 

"Santana, she's gone."

It all finally sunk in for Santana when Kurt said it. When her best friend had to tell her that her girlfriend's long battle with leukaemia had ended, that's when her loss hit her like a hammer on the head. That's when she broke down for real. Sure she had cried before, but this time was different. She had been hiding. Not physically, definitely not physically, but emotionally. There was something about these tears that had so much more emotion. These tears were Santana's realisation that no matter how much she wanted, Brittany was never coming back. 

That girl that she had spent the last two years totally and utterly in love with, the one who helped her accept who she was, hell, the girl who had shaped entirely who Santana was, was gone. And there's nothing anybody could do. 

All Santana could recapitulate in her mind was that moment Brittany had told her that "Luke Emia" had possessed her body and that if she didn't fight him off with her inner unicorn, she would die. The feeling of frailty that had just overpowered every single ounce of courage and bravery withheld within her body. Just that powerless, helpless feeling would never leave her. But that voice of instinct in her brain, at that moment, seemed to tell her that everything would be okay. That Brittany would fight off her illness and it would be okay. But it's not okay. Brittany isn't here, and it's anything but okay. 

And now, here she laid, her head resting on her best friends chest on the floor of St. Rita's Medical Center outside of the ward that held her girlfriend's body, crying the water she had left in her body out, slowly working herself to an ultimate headache. Kurt's arm around her shoulders, his other hand stroking through her hair as he soothed that it was all going to be okay would normally be enough for Santana, but not this time. Nothing would ever be enough.

"She's gone, and I'm never going to see her again." She croaked through her dry throat, with what little voice she had left, the tears still flowing as if it'd never stop.

Saying the words was the hardest. It was like a final realisation. They were harder to say than she could imagine, it made her heart stop and her body shiver. 

"It's going to be alright, San, it will all be alright," Kurt soothed, continuing to stroke her hair as the tears fell from his eyes too. Santana knew that these words weren't true. It wasn't going to be alright, and she knew it wasn't. Kurt's comforting words weren't true, and although she appreciated his attempt at trying to exhilarate her, it wasn't working. 

Why wasn't it her? Why did cancer have to come and snatch away Brittany? Why not her? She was the lesbian, after all. She was the one who was supposed to have sinned. Not Brittany, Brittany didn't do anything wrong. To anyone. Why couldn't it of been her? Then Brittany would of still been here. Still showing everyone true happiness, and radiating her love through to everyone she knew. 

Instead, she's gone. Forever. And now all left is Santana, weak and brittle, crying on a hospital floor because death stole someone else. Death had played its part; it had used its power to take another daughter, granddaughter, sister, cousin, niece and girlfriend. Santana's girlfriend.

Gone.