Disclaimer: I don't own Glee.

Note: So here's the Epilogue! Just gonna post this now, because I'm busy tomorrow night (Senior Honors Night), Thursday night (dance class), and Friday night (Senior Prom!). Yes, that's right, this week's Glee happens to coincide with my very own Prom. So, I won't be able to update anything for a few nights. Hope you enjoyed the second installment in this trilogy!

"Kurt, what am I going to do?" Santana sighed, grabbing a pillow off of the couch and holding it to her chest.

"Well," Kurt said slowly. "You can stay here for a week, but after that…"

Santana whipped the pillow across the room. "You're just going to kick me out, too?"

"No, no, no," Kurt tried to reassure her. "Well, technically, yes, but it's Dad's rule. Maybe…maybe you can go to Britt's house, or Rachel's, or Quinn's?"

Santana scoffed. "And just be traded around from house to house like a class pet?"

"Santana," Kurt sat down next to her. "God, I'm so sorry that this happened to you. But you've got to stop taking it out on me."

Santana glared at him with a look that plainly told Kurt that if looks could kill, he'd be six feet under right about now. "Get out."

Kurt stood his ground. "No. This is my house, and we're taking you in as our guest."

"Get. Out."

"No," Kurt crossed his legs and folded his arms. "We're going to talk this out." God, I sound just like Finn did that day before I went to the psych ward.

"I don't want to talk this out. I want my mother."

Kurt closed his eyes. "Your mother is a bitch, Santana."

"She's just angry. She'll come around, I know she will."

"No, Santana…I've seen this before and the parents hardly ever come around." He sighed and put a hand on her knee. "You're just going to have to move on without her."

"I want my mother to be there on my wedding day," Santana put her head in her hands. "And I want her to see her grandchildren, and I want her to meet Tallulah, and I want-"

"Santana!" Kurt grabbed her shoulders. "I want those things for you, too, but you just have to face the facts!" He shook his head, tears forming in his eyes. "I want my mother to be there for my wedding day, too, and I want her to meet Puck, and I want all of those things. But Santana, those things will never be."

"Your mother is dead," Santana snarled. "My mother is alive."

"Santana, if you're going to be a bitch about this, then fine, but if you want to talk rationally, my room's upstairs." He got up and stormed out of the room dramatically, feeling very much like one Rachel Berry.

Santana waited until he was gone before retrieving the pillow from the other side of the room. She flopped down onto the couch and screamed into the pillow until she passed out.

The next morning, Kurt knocked on the door to the basement, letting himself in. "Santana? How…how are you feeling?"

"I miss her," she sniffled. Kurt could tell that she'd been crying.

"I know you do," Kurt hung back by the stairwell. "And it's okay to miss her for a little while. I'm not saying that she'll accept you, but I'm not saying that she'll never accept you."

Santana shook her head confusedly. "I just don't know what to do," she said numbly.

Kurt shrugged. "Talk to your therapist about it?"

"With no car and no way to pay for it?"

Kurt smiled. "I'll drive. And I'll help pay."

"I can't let you do that, Kurt."

Kurt held out his hand. "It's the least I can do."

"Thanks," Santana murmured. "Do…do you think I can talk to Carole about this?"

"Yeah, sure. She's upstairs. I'm sure she'd love to have another girl to talk to. I mean, I'm an honorary girl, but, you know, it's not the same."

"And can you maybe take me somewhere later so I can see Tallulah?"

Kurt nodded. "Anything for you, Santa Ana."

"You're the best, Kurt," she stood up and hugged him.

"I try," Kurt chuckled. He looked her dead in the eye. "Are you sure you're gonna be okay?"

"Not right now," she said honestly. "But soon."

Kurt titled his head. "You know what Puck said to me yesterday? That I was like a phoenix. You know, those birds in like, Harry Potter that catch fire when they die and then a new baby bird comes out of the ashes?"

"Interesting," Santana said slowly. "A phoenix. I like that, I think."

"Phoenixes mate for life, and they're really loyal. Their tears also have healing powers."

"Sounds just like you," she whispered.

"And like you," he said back to her. "You're a phoenix, too, Santana."

They both were phoenixes.