I usually don't post stories unless they are finished, but oh, well.

Warning: This story has themes of suicide. Don't read if that upsets you.

Joey gave him a hug, a very long hug. Mr. Peabody was surprised, but he let her hug him for as long as she did. She said, "Goodbye."

Mr. Peabody looked confused. "What?"

She pulled away and said, "I said, good night."

Mr. Peabody said, "Oh. Well, good night."

The thirteen year-old left the living room and disappeared down the hall, going into her bedroom.

Something wasn't right. Mr. Peabody tried to focus on his reading, but he couldn't concentrate. He had a feeling that something was off. He tried to ignore it, thinking it was nothing, but the feeling only became stronger. Finally, he got up from the couch and headed to her room. "I'd hate to wake her," he thought. He went down the hallway to her room. He quietly opened the door and peaked in. He turned on the light.

Mr. Peabody gasped. She was sitting on two blankets on the floor, close to the lamp, which she had on the dimmest setting. She held a knife close to her wrist. When he had turned on the light, she suddenly looked up, and her face turned white. She didn't move the knife, however.

"Josephine," Mr. Peabody trembled, trying to sound calm even though he wanted to scream in terror. He took a step toward her, but she only put the blade closer to her skin. "Don't come any closer!" she yelled.

"Josephine, put down the knife," the canine said, trying to steady his voice.

"No!"

He was finding it hard to keep calm. He had to, though. He had to control his racing thoughts. He said, "What's wrong, Josephine? You can tell me. Please, I want to help."

"There's nothing you can do! Go away!"

"I'm not going anywhere. Please, don't do this! Let me help you!"

"I don't want you to help me, anymore."

"What do you mean?"

Joey was silent, breathing heavily, tears coming out of her eyes. Finally, she said, "You're the only one who's ever cared about me. You've always been nice to me and treated me with respect, and what do I do? I was mean to you. I hurt you. I can't hurt you, anymore. All I've been is a burden, to you and myself. I can't live like this, anymore! Everything will be better this way."

Mr. Peabody tried to take in all that she just said. He was terrified. His foster daughter, the child that he loved, was about to end her life. He had to save her.

"Josephine, you're not a burden. You've never been a burden. I...I know that you're in pain, and I want to help you. I want to help take that pain away. I don't want you to die." He swallowed, trying not to burst into tears. "Please, put down the knife. I don't know what I'd do if I lost you."

Seeing him in tears surprised her. Mr. Peabody never cried, never showed fear. He was usually so calm and in control. Now, he was shaking, pleading, desperate.

"But I...I just make everything bad. Everything has been so bad. I'm bad. I don't deserve to live."

"Yes, you do! You're not bad. You're a very bright, wonderful girl. You've given me so much happiness, more than you know! I care about you and have since I started fostering you. I'd be devastated if you died. I love you."

"You...you really do?"

"Yes. I meant it the first time I said it, and I mean it now. You mean the world to me. Please."

The silence that transpired seemed to last for hours. Joey was deep in thought, trying to decide what to do. Mr. Peabody really loved her, loved her like she was his daughter. No one had ever said they loved her. No one had ever taken care of her like he had. Was it possible that she was worthy of love, of life? If he thought that she wasn't a horrible person who didn't deserve forgiveness, then maybe...

She set the knife down on the floor away from her.

Mr. Peabody sighed in relief and quickly ran to her and threw his arms around her. He held her tightly as they both cried. He kissed the top of her head, and she buried her face in his shoulder.

They stayed like that for many moments until they both lifted their heads. They looked at each other, both with red, teary eyes. "I'm sorry," she said.

"You don't have anything to be sorry about. I'm just glad you're alright."

She nodded.

They hugged, again.

Later, Joey got into bed, and Mr. Peabody read her to sleep, just as he had been doing every night, though, this time, his voice was still shaky and slightly choked up, but he tried his best to put her at ease. It worked, because soon she was asleep.

Mr. Peabody closed the book and put it on her nightstand. He got up and went around her bed. The knife that she had held to her wrist (and that had thankfully been unused) still lay on the floor. He picked it up by the handle and left the room, closing the door behind him.

He went into the dining room and wrapped the knife in a piece of cloth. Then, he threw it away.

He left the kitchen and went into the living room and plopped down on the couch and held his head in his hands. Only an hour ago, he had almost lost her. He had almost lost the most precious gift he had ever gotten. He felt guilty that he had not known sooner how much pain she had been in, but he knew that he couldn't have known. She was so secretive, even though he had told her that she could tell him anything. The important thing now, though, was that she was safe.