A/N: I've been dying for people to post more Jamie/Jenny fics (I don't know why they aren't more popular), but since nobody has, I decided to write one. It's not exactly all fluff though. And yes, it was inspired by The Band Perry's, "If I Die Young."

If I Die Young

Slender fingers wrapped around the armrest of the wheelchair as Jenny Jagielski pushed her frail form up from the seat. A pair of basketball strengthened arms were there to embrace her from falling back into it. "I can do it."

Jamie Scott clung hard and fast, refusing to let go. "I know," he agreed solemnly. "I just want to be here to hold you anyway."

Jenny placed her flutter light hand over his. "You can't hang onto me forever, Jim."

"As long as I can, I will."

Jenny relaxed back into Jamie's chest. Although she was two years his senior, her thin, tender form looked the age of sixteen, if not younger. She relaxed the back of her head onto his shoulder and wheezed a breath into the cool North Carolina breeze. "Thanks for bringing me here."

Jamie's eyes brushed over the Rivercourt. Images of his Aunt Peyton's love painting to his Uncle Lucas were still vivid on the court. They should've faded years ago, but their love story had become somewhat of a legend in the little town of Tree Hill, and as a result, the images were still as vibrant as the day Peyton had painted them.

Jenny caught Jamie looking and smiled. "It's a good tradition," she whispered. "High school sweethearts coming out here at the end of the year and repainting these images to keep them alive. I'm glad I got to do it once with you."

"Don't talk like that," Jamie chastised. "You'll get to do it again."

Jenny shook her head, all the while with a sheer smile on her lips. "It's okay, Jamie. You don't need to try and fill my head with falsities. I've accepted what's going to happen and so can you."

"You're wrong. I don't need to accept anything. There are miracles every day and-"

"My miracle was you, James." She squeezed his hand, as hard as her fragile muscles would allow. "My miracle was moving to Tree Hill and being with my family and finding all these amazing friends and, most of all, finding this amazing boy. It would be unfair of me to expect anything else."

Jamie shook his head defiantly. "How can you say that?" he asked, his voice edging into a bark. "The only reason you moved here is because you were sick and you dad wanted you to be with your family. If you weren't sick, you'd have your entire life ahead of you!"

"It's not life that's important, it's how you spend it and who you spend it with. I've had more in this last year than I ever had in Atlanta and that's because of you and this place and everyone in it. If I had to do it all over again-"

"I'd want you to live."

"Even if it means that you'd never have met me?"

"Yes."

"Now that's selfish."

"How can that be selfish?"

"Because you'd be denying someone the single greatest part of their life."

"You can't say that, because you're not getting the life you deserved. I know! I know, because my grandmother died of cancer too, Jenny, and she lived a full life. It didn't hurt like this when she died and that's because she was ready and you – you aren't."

"Life's like a basketball game, Jamie: you can have a good season. You can have a good year. You can have many good years. But you can't win them all. And we," she whispered, drawing her hand down the side of his cheek, "have had a good year. But it's time to accept that this isn't a game we are meant to win and that…I probably won't be able to finish the season."

Jamie turned his head away, staring out to the rushing river. His chest seemed to rise and fall with the current. "I don't want to finish anything without you."

"Don't give me that old cliché about life and fairness," she warned. "You know what I'd have to tell you." She tugged at the brim of her denim hat and pulled it off her head, revealing her bald head.

Jamie brushed his fingertips over the smooth skin of her head. "I miss that pretty blonde hair of yours."

Jenny dipped her hands into her pocket and pulled out her cell phone, revealing the background image of her and Jamie standing on the Rivercourt, with a bright eyed young girl on Jamie's shoulders with a gorgeous head of long, white blonde hair. "It went to a good cause," she smiled reminiscently. "It gave a little girl hair when she'd lost her own."

"I wish I had your selflessness," he whispered, kissing the crown of her head softly. "If I'd found out I had terminal cancer, I don't think my first thought would've been to donate my hair to Locks of Love."

"You underestimate your ability to love, James Lucas Scott." Jenny turned slightly in his arms and pressed her forehead to his. "Speaking of that, there's something I've been meaning to talk to you about..."

"That doesn't sound good."

"Shh." She pressed her frail finger to his lips. "The thing is, Jamie, you have so much love in your heart and so much love left to give and so much life left to live." Speaking the words seemed to exert so much energy from her that she had to pause, catching her breath, all the while with a serene smile. "And I don't want that to be all for not."

"Jen-"

"No. Don't. Hear me out. I want you to give that love to people, okay? For example, when I'm gone-" she pressed her finger a little harder to his lips to keep him from interrupting "-my dad's gonna need some of that love. Be there for him, okay? And…and even more importantly, let other people give their love to you. Let them be there for you, okay? Don't push them away."

"Stop talking like this-"

"We have to talk like this," she spoke sternly. "It's the reality we live in. I'm sorry, but it is, and you, my love, need to accept that. I have. So, again: let them be there for you. Especially…especially Madison."

"Madison?" Jamie echoed, with an immediate shake of his head. "Jenny, no! Madison and I, we're just friends! We always have been-"

"Jamie, Jamie, Jamie…" she whispered, shaking her head against his. "I don't contest that at all. In fact, I love that. And maybe for you, it always has been 'just friends,' but not for her. I still remember the day I came into your life. The look in her eyes when you looked at me. She's always felt something for you, Jim. And that's okay. She put that aside for you and for us and I love her all the more for that, but that look has never gone away. And I know she won't try to pressure you into something when I'm gone, but I'm just saying…if ever you didn't feel like just being her friend one day, even if that day isn't for years to come, that would be okay. And in fact, I hope that day comes. Because you're my two best friends and I want you two to be happy. And I don't want you to ever be alone."

Shaking his head he replied, "That day's never going to come. I've found the person I love and…" In spite of himself, he felt a tear finally shed down his cheek. "I'm gonna love you forever."

"I'll take that to the wind with me," she whispered, lifting her eyes at the sound of the breeze through the spring leaves. "And the reason I wanted you to bring me here today was because I've finally made up my mind: I want my ashes scattered here, at the Rivercourt. Here, with you, it's my favorite place in the whole world. It's where I first met you, where we first kissed-"

"The first place someone ever beat me at one-on-one game."

Jenny flashed a full toothed grin. "And you've been at my mercy ever since."

"I have." He agreed. "And as someone asking for mercy, just make me one promise."

"And what's that?"

"Hold my hand until Graduation."

"I don't know if I-"

"You're asking me to accept this," he whispered, his voice cracking. "Please, Jenny. Meet me halfway: I want to be able to see you on that stage, taking your diploma, moving your tassel, and throwing your cap…kissing me in celebration."

Jenny pressed her blonde eyelashes together. "You gonna carry me across the stage?"

Jamie responded by scooping her into his arms. "I'll always carry you with me."

Jenny wrapped her hands around his neck. "I want to kiss you in celebration, too." She suddenly leaned forward and captured his lips in the midst of the breeze, soft and tender like the petals of a rose. "And know that I'll always be holding your hand," she assured softly, reaching to slide her fingers around his. "When the day comes and you feel that wind beneath your fingers as you're about to make that winning shot, know that it's me, 'cause I'll be celebrating too. I'll always carry my love for you on the edge of the wind."