Disclaimer: I do not own Kyle XY. If I did, Andy would not move. And it would not be ending so soon. And some of the dialogue would hopefully be a bit more realistic.

A/N: So I really haven't done fanfiction before. I'm not too great with characters I don't create myself, but I had to get this out of my system, and fanfiction seemed like a good venting opportunity. So please review this, if the force compells you. It's a tad short. Sorry.

"Cleveland is not worse than cancer," Josh brooded.

It was alright, though, because we were both lying lazily on his bed, brooding together. Until now, we had seemed to be on the same page with our brooding. However, it was difficult for me to agree with that last sentence. Vehemently, I wanted to scream, "Of course it is!" But he'd argue with me, and I didn't want to argue.

"That's debatable," I managed.

"True," he allowed, smiling just a little. "But I am still just so glad you're in remission, you know," he told me seriously.

"Well, yeah," I spoke carefully, "Of course."

"But this . . . this sucks," he told me, sighing.

"So much," I said emphatically.

"Yes," he nodded.

"Why can't I just stay here?" The "here" I was referring to may have been his very room, for all I know. Pitifully, I'd be more than content to be there with him forever.

"Or I could come with you." He looked laughably hopeful.

"Or we could run away together," I suggested with more sincerity in my voice than was intended.

"Marry me?" he chuckled. I was glad he was laughing, but it was short-lived.

"You've seen A Walk to Remember a few too many times," I said facetiously.

"Except Jamie wasn't in remission. She was actually sick."

"Seriously? I was kidding. You've seen A Walk to Remember?"

"Lori did have a heart once. She made me watch things."

"Well, I'll just call you Landon, then. Actually, I never really liked him; he was a bit too dramatic for my taste. And I can't be Jamie because she was just a little too nice for me. I mean, remember, we can't be nice to each other. It's our thing. Oh, right, and my neither of my moms are preachers."

"How about I be Josh and you be Andy?" he suggested, still looking solemn. I laughed at him in hopes of making him smile.

"At least you haven't read the book." Then, when I was met with a sheepish expression, I choked, through laughs, "Have you?"

"Um . . . no." He knew very well that I could always tell when he was lying.

"Oh, my god!" I gasped, sitting up and leaning against his headboard, trying not to laugh too hard.

"Well, have you read it?"

"Seriously?" I asked with incredulous sarcasm, trying and probably failing to keep my voice light. "Girl has cancer. Boy falls in love with girl. Girl dies. What about that story would appeal to me?"

Josh looked thoughtful and then, looking miserable, said, "The part where the girl doesn't move to Cleveland."

I know he wasn't serious, and I hadn't been either, but, grateful for a new distraction, I went along with it. "Role reversal again," I told him, laughing so I wouldn't cry.

"Ugh," he groaned, conveying that the roles had not, in fact, reversed completely. Oh, well. Time to be serious. He sat up to look face me and asked, "What are we gonna do?"

I didn't have the faintest idea, but, desperately, I said, "We can still play G-force together . . . online."

"I'll call you. A lot. And it's not like I don't have a car."

I snorted and informed him dryly, "Cleveland is hours away," although I knew he had probably looked it up. Like he had done with the popsicles, I thought pathetically, stubbornly fighting against the tears that were now beginning to blur my vision.

"Have I ever told you about the time I played video games for seventeen hours straight? I can handle it."

"Josh . . ." I gasped in the same overly-emotional voice I had used at the career fair. At the career fair when he had told me he wanted to be a doctor. For me.

"We'll go to college together, right?" he confirmed, apparently in denial of the reality of the situation.

"That's two years away, Josh," I reminded him gently.

"So?" This was why I loved him, after all. Nothing seemed to faze him. He didn't care about technicalities that bothered most people. I like to take credit for some of that, but, really, Josh is great. All on his own. Without me. Despite what I had said before his first date, our first date, he'd be able to find another girl. "I mean, what are you going to do, find some hot guy in Cleveland who's better than me?" real worry obvious under the humor in his voice. I knew his voice so well.

"Of course not," I answered immediately, reaching to touch his face. I suppose my true worry shown through, too, though, because he stared at me, his eyes full of sincerity.

"Andy, I promise that I am in love with you. Two years is nothing when you're alive and . . . healthy." I was tempted to retort with a, "Role reversal!" but, really, I guess our roles hadn't been reversed. We were on the same level this time, finally. It wasn't exactly an altogether pleasant place to be, but at least we were there together.

"You are?" I questioned, sensing he had had the same realization as I, so choosing, childishly, to be fixated on his first statement.

"Duh."

I kissed him. We'd figure it out.