Summary: AU in which everything Brittany has told us is true. A series of one-shots and short stories revolving around Brittany, with appearances from other characters.

A/N: Thank you so much for the quote suggestions, everyone! I've added them to the list I've collected of quotes I want to use. Also, these little stories might not be in the order that they occur from now on, okay? SPOILERS FOR "SEXY" ARE AHEAD.

"...heart attacks are just from loving too much."
- Episode 2.3, "Grilled Cheesus"

Of Heart Attacks and Lady Kisses

It was raining outside, which was totally perfect for the way Brittany was feeling. There was a word for that, but Brittany couldn't remember what it was, exactly— which was sort of pathetic, since it had been on their last English test. She should be able to remember what the word was. But she had been too busy copying off Santana's test and taking peeks down her shirt to pay attention to what she had actually written as an answer.

But anyway, it was raining, and Brittany sat at her window, watching the fat drops fall to earth and splash around the stork's nest in her yard. The bird was curled in upon itself, sheltering from the rain, and Brittany kind of wanted to do that, too. Curl up in a ball and be protected. She just felt so confused after the day she'd had. And sad, too. But mostly confused.

Santana was in love with her. She's said so herself. And that wouldn't have been a bad thing, except that she was dating Artie and she loved him too— and she didn't want to hurt either of them. Brittany blinked back tears as she began to spin around in her desk chair, which usually made her feel better but didn't this time.

If Santana was in love with her, did that mean she had been accidently cheating on Artie every time they made out? Because Santana used to always say that it didn't count as cheating because they were both girls and they weren't in love; but if Santana had been lying about being in love with her, maybe she'd been lying about that too?

"Am I a horrible person?" Brittany asked aloud, stopping her aimless spinning to look up at her cat Charity, who was perched on top of her wardrobe.

Charity was the oldest cat in the Pierce family, mother to Sprinkles and unofficial aunt to Augustus, Blackjack and Cashmere, the kittens she had adopted from the sewer. Charity was therefore old and wise, and knew every secret of Brittany's (whether from Brittany telling her, or secretly reading Brittany's diary). Brittany always went to Charity for advice when she didn't want to talk to people about her problems. Cats were easy; they never lied, were always honest and affectionate. People were confusing.

The cat looked down at her owner with beady black eyes, her tail twitching back and forth as if amused by the silly human's antics. Her smooshed-in face somehow managed to look condescending and mildly entertained at the same time.

"But I'm not, though!" Brittany protested after a moment, obviously taking her flat-faced gray Persian's silence as an automatic 'yes' to her question. "I love Artie a lot! I would never hurt him on purpose. And I love Santana too!"

Flick, flick went Charity's tail, the mesmerising fluff darting back and forth lazily.

"Of course I love Santana," Brittany continued, looking up at Charity with wide blue eyes. "I love her so much sometimes I make myself sick and actually throw up because I love her that much, and then I get heartburn and have to eat those gross chalky tablets that make it feel better." Brittany froze the minute the words were out of her mouth.

With a little gasp, Brittany swung her chair back around and began to yank open her desk drawers frantically. She searched through her crafts and all the other junk she'd thrown in there over the years, digging around until she found what she was looking for— the report she'd written for Health Class last in October.

Heart Attacks Are Just From Loving Too Much
by Brittany P.

Brittany stared at her report, suddenly terrified of the words as they danced colourfully across it in magenta Crayon. It had been a long time coming, but she had just realised: heart attacks are from loving too much. She had been thinking about Kurt's dad when she wrote the report, because Kurt's dad was awesome and loved Kurt so much that he gave himself a heart attack, but what about her?

She loved Artie a lot, and she loved her parents and her siblings Olivia and Henry a lot, and she loved Santana so much she made herself sick, sometimes— Brittany whimpered and clutched the report to her chest protectively.

"I don't want to die," she whispered tearfully, absolutely shaking with terror. There were still so many things she hadn't done yet with her life. She wanted to go to Paris and visit the oeuvre, and swim with dolphins in Mexico, find out what happens at the end of One Tree Hill, and learn how to turn on a computer! If she died at sixteen, she would never get to experience any of those dreams.

But Kurt's dad hadn't actually died, right? He must have done something to get better, and Kurt said something about doctors and not praying to the evil dwarf behind the moon. She could totally just ask Kurt what the doctors had done for his dad to make him better.

Except she didn't want to ask Kurt how Burt had gotten better, because that would mean telling him she was in love with both Santana and Artie, which was confusing and she hadn't even told Artie that yet, let alone someone else... which left Brittany with exactly one option in her mind. She would have to go to Burt Hummel himself and ask him what he'd done to make himself better after his heart attack.

Nodding to herself a little, Brittany quickly folded up her report and put it in her backpack, grabbing a windbreaker and shrugging it on over her clothes. She knew where Kurt lived still, even though the Hummels had moved. They actually lived closer now to her house than they had before, which would cut the walk to their house in, like, half.

Glad that Henry was with their parents at Olivia's basketball game and she didn't have to take him with her, Brittany started the comparatively short walk to the Hummels' house. When she got to the white house on the corner that had been for sale a while ago but the Hummels had bought after the wedding, she stopped, feeling unsure.

What was she supposed to say? Would Mr. Hummel even be home? Should she have gone to the garage instead? Shaking her head and working up the courage, she decided to chance it and walked up the Hummels' driveway and then climbed the steps. Before she could psych herself out, she rang the doorbell.

Whatever Burt Hummel had been expecting when he went to answer the door on a rainy afternoon, it wasn't the daffy cheerleader his son had fake-dated for a few weeks a year before. He thought it might be Girl Scouts selling cookies; instead, he got an armful of Brittany.

"Uh, hello?" Burt said uneasily, looking down at the wet mop of blond hair that was pressed suddenly to his chest. The teenager was hugging him and tearfully mumbling into his chest about heart attacks and crayons. "Brittany, is it?"

Brittany let go of Kurt's dad and looked up at him, her eyelashes wet with tears and her bottom lip trembling as she nodded. Taking pity on the drenched teenager, Burt opened the front door a little wider to let her in. Brittany stepped over the threshold carefully, wrapping her arms around herself.

"What's wrong, sweetheart?" he asked, looking at her curiously. It wasn't the first time one of Kurt or Finn's friends had randomly on his doorstep. Admittedly, neither Mercedes nor Puckerman had ever hugged him, but that was beside the point. Burt Hummel was never one to turn away a kid in need. "Are you okay?"

Brittany shook her head, sending little droplets of water scattering all over the Hummel foyer. With a frown, Burt went to the hall closet and retrieved a towel for the distraught girl and gave it to her. Brittany absently began to dry her hair with it, a frown still making her nose crinkle.

"What happened, Brittany?" Burt asked kindly, a million difference scenarios running through his mind. His home was kind of known for being a safe place for someone in trouble— God knows how many times Puckerman had shown up with a bloody lip after being caught up in a fight— but Brittany hadn't been there before, and she didn't look injured.

"I don't want to die," Brittany whimpered. Burt hadn't been expecting anything like that. He took her by the arm and led her into the kitchen, ignoring the little drops of water she left in her wake.

"Did someone threaten you?" Burt's voice was low and angry as he mulled over the prospect. If that Karofsky kid had said anything to the poor girl, he was going to call the cops and threaten harassment. Saying something to Kurt because of his sexuality was one thing— not a good thing, or even a justifiable thing, but to be expected, unfortunately— but to threaten an innocent girl who was more than a little dim was just... cruel.

Again, Brittany shook her head. "No," she said quietly, running the towel Burt had given her down her neck to catch the rainwater before it got into her shirt. "I just... I don't want to have a heart attack like you did."

Burt's frown increased. "You're a healthy, active teenager. Why would you be worried about having a heart attack?" It didn't make sense. Then again, a lot of what Brittany said didn't make sense, according to Kurt's tales over the dinner table. This was the same girl who thought his son was a dolphin, after all.

Brittany shrugged off her backpack and put it on the kitchen counter, opening it and grabbing a folded piece of construction paper from inside. Wordlessly, she offered it to Burt, who took it and unfolded it, unsure of what to expect.

Heart Attacks Are Just From Loving Too Much
by Brittany P.

"Oh, Brittany," Burt sighed, rubbing a hand over his head as though to sooth back his hair (not that he had any, anymore).

"I just want to know how the doctors made you stop loving so much," Brittany supplied quickly. "Because I love people lots and it's making me sick all the time, and I don't want for it to get so bad I have to go to the hospital like you had to."

Burt stared at her, unsure how to answer. It wasn't like he had a pre-planned speech prepared for this occasion, as he so often did when Kurt came to him with problems.

"So how did you manage to love less? Because you still love Kurt so much and stuff, but you aren't sick anymore, and you must love Finn's mom too because you married her! But I love Artie and I also love Santana and my family, which is a lot of people—"

"Brittany," Burt cut her off, putting her report carefully down on the table. He felt instantly awkward, but he was sure as hell going to try to help her. "You see, when I got sick..." He paused, thinking about what he was going to say carefully. "I had a... love build-up."

He had Brittany's rapt attention. She nodded quickly, understanding. "So do I. I have a love build-up too."

Burt sighed again, rubbing at his neck as was per his habit when he was feeling uncomfortable or didn't know what to say. "And having a... love build-up made me really, really stressed."

Brittany nodded. "Me too. I get stressed like all the time because I love Santana and totally like having awesome lady kisses with her, but I'm dating Artie and I feel like it's bad to be in love with two different people at the same time."

Blinking away confusion as the blonde's words finally started to make sense, Burt closed his eyes for a moment and groped blindly for a chair. He found one and pulled it out to sit down, putting a hand over his face. "You're in love with two people at the same time?" he asked, opening his eyes to look at Brittany.

Brittany hesitantly took the chair opposite him and sat down too, because looking down at an adult made her feel weird. "Yeah. And I don't know what to do. I don't want to have a heart attack because I love so much." She paused, biting her lip. "What did you do to make your build-up go away?"

"I had to let my love out to make it better," Burt said carefully. "If you love someone, you have to tell them to let it out, show them how much you care." Brittany nodded along to his words. "And Brittany, you can't keep stringing along the guy you're dating if you're in love with someone else. It's not nice, and it could get a lot of people's feelings hurt."

Brittany crinkled up her nose again, holding back tears. "I know," she said softly, sniffling and wiping the back of her nose with the sleeve of her windbreaker. "I just don't want anyone to get hurt. I don't want Artie to be hurt because I love Santana more than I love him, but I want to be with Santana."

"You need to tell him that. If he loves you, he'll want you to be happy, even if it's not with him." Burt reached across the table to take Brittany's hand, a smile of genuine affection for the daffy ex-cheerleader crossing his features. "I promise, sweetheart, it'll all be okay."

"So I won't die, then? If I let my love out, I mean? Because I have a lot to live for. I don't want to die until I visit the oeuvre, or swim with dolphins..." Brittany mumbled, looking up at her friend's father with big, blue eyes.

Burt patted her hand. "I promise. You're too young to have to worry about that stuff." He stood and tucked the report back into Brittany's backpack, offering it to her. "Come on, I'll drive you home. It's raining pretty hard out there."

Brittany stood and took the bag from him, slinging it over her shoulder. When they got to the driveway, though, Brittany made a decision. "Actually, Mr. Hummel, can you drive me to Artie's house? I have something I need to say to him right away."

Burt nodded. "Sure, Brittany."

With a smile, Brittany climbed into the passenger's seat of Mr. Hummel's truck. She was feeling a lot better.