A/N - A few notes...

I assume that you all know the story of 'Paper Towns,' so there will be no explanation on that note.

The beginning of the chapter is canon so that it flows nicely from the previous chapters of the original.

Well, I don't know if I will do anything else with this, but it will be 'in-progress' for now.

Let's see how this goes, and I hope you enjoy my first 'Paper Towns' Fanfic!

The speed limit drops dramatically as we approach the small town of Roscoe. It is quite a sorrowful sight, with many of the storefronts boarded up like the abandoned mini-mall was back in Florida.

I sigh hopefully and say, "I can imagine her in there, you know?"

"Yeah," Ben replies. "Man, I really don't want to have to break into any more buildings. New York prisons work differently than the ones in Florida."

The thought of breaking into these buildings doesn't strike me as terrifying, possibly because of our previous experiences. Either way, there is a very slim chance that we could be caught. The town is deserted, nothing is open. The vegetation is quite thick as well, suggesting that nobody is taking care of this place.

We turn-off onto the next highway, and Radar is driving slowly. He wants to make sure that we don't miss the dirt road that will lead us to Agloe. We haven't even gone a mile when we spot one on our left with no evidence of street signs to define its name to us.

"I think this is it." I say.

"Q, that's a driveway," Ben answers, but Radar ignores him, and turns in. Ben does seem to be correct, this felt much more like a driveway than a possible road leading to a town. The grass is left uncut, and we can't pick out much through the darkness. Radar keeps driving, and we come across a Victorian-style farmhouse at the end of the road. He turns around, and heads back up the two-lane highway, farther north than before. The highway turned off onto another street, and we continue along until we come across a road almost identical to the previous leads to a barn-like structure built of gray-coloured wood. Radar stopped in front of it, and we eyed the surrounding area excitedly.

"Do you think that this is the Agloe General Store that we're looking for?" I ask.

"This old barn?"

"Yeah."

"I dunno," Radar says. "Do general stores in New York look like barns?"

A long sigh came through my pursed lips. "How am I supposed to know, Radar?"

"Is that- oh my gosh, that's her car!" Lacey shouts next to me. "Yes yes yes yes yes yes, her car her car!"

Radar shuts off the engine in the minivan as I follow the general direction where Lacey's finger was pointing. In the dim light, I made out a glint of silver.I leaned down so that the side of my face was pressed against her's,and I see the arc of the car's roof. I smile in relief.

When Radar unlocks the doors, I jump out and run straight for the silver Honda. Empty. Unlocked. I popped the trunk, also empty, except for an open suitcase. I turn around, and run once more towards the Agloe General Store. Ben and Radar pass me as I sprint along. We enter the barn through a hole where the wooden wall apparently gave out at one point.

When I step inside, Margo's distinct scent of almonds washes over me like water. The floorboards were worn-down and soggy, with small plants poking through the cracks. This place has obviously been abandoned for a very long time. There is even an old claw-foot bathtub, with almost as many holes chipped into it as there are in the store. We are both inside and outside.

I feel someone pull hard on the back of my shirt. I spin around and see Ben, his eyes are brimming with horror. They are shooting back and forth, between me and the corner of the room. A bright and heavenly light shone down from a hole in the ceiling, with the sun's light rising among us. It gave me a new spark of hope. I couldn't figure out why he looked so worried.

I glance back at him, but his expression never changed a bit since the previous time. I switch over to where Radar and Lacey were almost huddled together. They were both cowering, Lacey with tears streaming down her face and deep sobs animating from her. Radar looks up at me with sympathy. I raise my eyebrows questioningly, and he nods his head towards the corner of the room, the same place where Ben has his eyes glued. That was when a horrible salty, stench overwhelms my senses.

Blood.

My spark of hope was quickly extinguished by fear. I hesitantly allow my eyes to peer into the dreaded corner, and I almost feel like dying on the spot.

Margo Roth Spiegelman was seated sluggishly in a time-worn office chair. Her hair is much shorter, with choppy bangs and the ends messed-up. But its her, along with all of her Margo-ness.

The highlighted lines in Whitman's "Song of Myself" replayed in my mind with a deep and brooding voice:

"You shall no longer take things at second or third hand . . . . nor look through the eyes of the dead . . . . nor feed on the spectres in books.

I tramp a perpetual journey

All goes onward and outward . . . . and nothing collapses, and to die is different from what any one supposed, and luckier.

If no other in the world be aware I sit content, and if each and all be aware I sit content.

I bequeath myself to the dirt to grow from the grass I love, if you want me again look for me under your boot soles.

You will hardly know who I am or what I mean, but I shall be good health to you nevertheless, and filter and fibre your blood.

Failing to fetch at first keep me encouraged, missing me one place search another, I stop somewhere waiting for you."

I felt my knees turn to jelly and a set of strong arms wrapping around me to catch my fall; Radar. He kept trying to keep me away, but I was still fighting strong. The realization finally dawned on me. My original theory was correct, that she would turn out just like Robert Joyner did back at Jefferson Park.

There is a dead body sitting in the same spot as Margo.

Margo Roth Spiegelman is dead, and all the of puzzle pieces that led up to this very moment, had just collapsed before me. All those clues that she had left for me, have just evaporated into a clear mist. I was so sure that she would be here, writing in her little black notebook as she did before she went missing. She promised me that she wouldn't end up like Mr. Joyner, left on the ground with blood trickling down the side of his skull. But there she was, and there was even the hint of a smile on her face.

"Q?" Radar leaned in close towards my ear. "Q, we should go, NOW." His words were almost exactly the same as the ones I had said to Margo that day nine years ago. "Quentin Jacobsen, QUENTIN. COME ON WE GOT TO GO RIGHT NOW!" I feel another set of arms around me, and I was dragged against my own will out of the barn and back into the minivan. Along the way, I see Margo's silver Honda still parked in the very same place. The sight was enough to make me sob almost as much as Lacey. I could hear Radar shouting for someone to call the police, and Ben whispering to Lacey in a soothing voice, but it's like someone was underwater and trying to speak to me. The words are muffled by layers upon layers of water.

The very same thought echoed in my ears: She's dead, she's dead, she's dead…

I rip free of Radar's grip and race towards the nearby bushes. I don't think that I have ever puked so much in my entire life, not even when I drank that pink "wine". Everything important to me, everything that drove my life forward… was gone. I couldn't help but think about my little fantasy back at Sea World, with Margo and I lying on the grass together.

Yeah, as if that will ever happen now.