Wow. I was completely blown away by the response to the first chapter! Within 12 hours of posting the story, there were about 6 reviews and lots of favorites/follows too! So thank you so much! There are like 11 reviews now, so forgive me for not responding to each one individually.

And now, without further ado, I present to you... THE SECOND CHAPTER.

I spent the night at Funky Bones. At about 5 a.m, my lungs woke me, screaming for oxygen. Of course. I struggled to my feet and tried to calm my racing heart as I shuffled back to the car for the spare oxygen tank that was always in the trunk.

When I could finally breathe again, I glanced at the sky. The sun was already rising, it's golden rays cutting hazy lines through the morning fog. It was beautiful, but I couldn't focus on the sunrise. I had bigger problems.

My cell was buzzing like an angry wasp. A call from the home number. There were twenty other missed calls, and I winced as I picked up.

"Hazel? Oh, thank God."

"I'm sorry Mom.. I just-"

I heard someone pick up the extension. "Hazel, where the hell have you been?"

"I'm sorry," I repeated, deciding apology was the best strategy.

"Get home. Now." His voice left no room for compromise. There was a click, and I was alone with my thoughts again.

"Hazel Grace Lancaster, where have you been?"

I hated the sound of my middle name. I was always Hazel Grace to Gus, and the use of that name by anyone else hurt my entire being.

"I just-"

"Hazel, I get that you're struggling. We both understand that. But you can't shut yourself off like this. You need to take care of your body, Hazel. Augustus is dead, Hazel. You need to understand that." Dad was pissed.

"Yeah, Dad, I get it. I'm highly aware that he's dead, thanks for the update!"

"Hazel, that's not what he means." My mother, always the peacemaker.

Instead of shutting my mouth, I turned on her. "What does he mean then, Mom? I can't think of another possible interpretation!"

"He means that you're here, and Gus isn't. You need to put yourself and your needs first, Hazel!" Mom was getting fired up too.

I could feel the tears building in my eyes. "You have no idea how hard this has been for me. Don't even pretend to know."

"Hazel, you don't think it's been hard for us? Watching you slowly wither away for the last four years? Watching your heart get ripped apart by this? It hurts us to see you hurting, honey." Dad had softened his tone a little. "You can understand that, can't you?"

"Yeah." My voice was nearly a whisper.

"Tell us, sweetie. You know you can tell us anything. Where were you last night?" Mom sat next to me on the sofa, leaning against my shoulder.

"I went to Funky Bones."

"Why?"

"I'm pregnant." The words exploded from my lips before I had a chance to think about them. "I needed to be alone."

Dad started laughing, laughing so hard he was gasping for air. "No, seriously, Hazel."

"I'm not joking." The laughter stopped abruptly.

I've honestly never seen my parents look so angry. Once, when I was about five, they were both upstairs sleeping when I snuck down into the kitchen. I systematically took all of the drinking glasses and dropped them on the floor. I had just started on the plates when they appeared in the doorway. That was the angriest I had ever seen them. And now? They looked like fire would come shooting out of their ears. But also sad. Or maybe disappointed. Maybe a combination of the three.

However, they didn't say anything. Maybe they were too in shock. But when I saw them exchange a look over my head, I knew the issue wasn't over. And for whatever reason (blame it on the pregnancy hormones if you must), I burst into tears.

"Hazel, sweetie, why don't you go rest?" Mom suggested calmly. "I'll come hook you up to your machine and you can take a nice nap. We don't have to talk about this right now."

I nodded through the tears and allowed her to take my hand, leading me upstairs like I was a little kid.

Attached to Philip, my BiPAP, air being forced in and out of my lungs, I was too tired to cry anymore. Instead, I closed my eyes and succumbed to sleep.

Outside, a frigid wind blew. Snowflakes fell from the sky. But inside the house, the weather was the complete opposite. A fire roared in the fireplace, and the three figures on the couch sipped steaming drinks from ceramic mugs.

One of the figures on the couch was a woman. Her hair was short, and an smirk danced across her mouth, as if there was a joke that the other two weren't in on yet. A cannula snaked around her neck into her nose, and an oxygen tank rested beside her.

The figure next to her was a man with tangled mahogany hair. One arm rested on the back of the couch behind the woman's head, and he wasn't smiling, but it was obvious he was happy, based on the way his eyes sparkled. A prosthetic limb peeked out of the leg of his flannel pajama pants.

The smallest figure was a little girl, light brown hair curling around her shoulders. She couldn't have been more than three, but there was a maturity to the way she held herself. There was a lightness, too- just like her father, she had sparkling eyes that showed the world how happy she was, how enchanted she was with life.

They all looked happy. Not like life was easy- for them, life wasn't easy. But they looked happy. They were happy that they had all made it this far in life. Happy that while work wasn't the best and sometimes it was hard for the mother to breathe and for the father to walk, it hadn't stopped them. And they were happy that they had this chance to be together on a cold winter's night.

I woke up with tears streaming from my eyes, my tubes gunked up because of how much I had been crying.

When I opened my eyes again, Mom was standing over me, holding a plate with a grilled cheese sandwich and carrot sticks. "Eat up," she instructed. "You need the energy." I could tell that she was trying to keep her voice level.

Normally I would argue about the carrot sticks, but today I ate them quietly as she unhooked me from Philip and attached my cannula to an oxygen tube.

"Family meeting downstairs, okay?" Listening to her say 'okay?' was another thing that made me wince. It had been a special, sacred word with Gus, one meant to show love and commitment. Now it hurt me, like I was being stabbed in the section of my heart devoted to Gus. "Hazel? Now."

"Yeah, sorry." I shook myself out of my stupor. "I'm coming."

By the time I made my way downstairs, they were both sitting on the sofa, leaving me to settle into the big armchair.

"So," Dad began. "You're pregnant." He's never really been one for beating around the bush.

"I am indeed." I tried not to sound too sarcastic.

"Have you thought about your options?"

"Only for like a straight 24 hours."

"And?"

I still hadn't really come to a conclusion. Despite thinking about my pregnancy for hours on end, I wasn't sure what I wanted to do. I wanted to minimize the casualties, of course, and thus I was pretty strongly anti-abortion, at least for myself. But to give birth would mean risking my health and also the health of the child, my child.

I tried to disappear into my mind, into that dark, velvety blue corner where I could be alone and think clearly. I even closed my eyes, knowing that this decision was one of the most important I would ever make.

To keep up the monotone of my crappy life, or to introduce my offspring to the crappiness of my life as well? When given that choice, it's pretty obvious, and most people wouldn't think twice.

But then I thought of the dream I had just had. The mother, father, and daughter sitting together. And more than anything, I wanted that. That feeling of happiness and satisfaction.

"I want to keep it." The words came out of my mouth, and I immediately knew they were true.

"Hazel.." Mom was using her 'Maybe that's not such a good idea' voice.

"What?" I demanded. "I've thought this through. It's my body and my decision."

Bad choice of words. They began ranting, telling me all the risks and problems that would come if I became a mother. Telling me that my health would just be more strained by the birth of my child.

Still, I stuck with my decision. "I'm keeping it. I really have nothing to lose, right?" My voice got quieter. "Think of it this way. I never thought I'd ever be a mother. It's just one of those things that you don't do if you have terminal cancer."

"I'm worried that you're trying to hold on to a piece of Augustus by keeping the baby." Dad found his voice. "And it won't help, it'll just hurt you more."

I sighed, sinking back into the armchair. Maybe he was right. But still... "I just feel like this is something I have to do."

"Then we'll be behind you every step of the way," Mom told me. A grin split her face. "Holy cow.. I'm going to be a grandma!"

Again, thank you all so much for your support of this story! Please let me know what you think of this chapter, and maybe what you'd like to see in later chapters! *hugs*