A/N: Just wanted to give a shoutout to my gurl abiecat! She always leaves the nicest reviews ever. Lovelovelove.

Speaking of which, I've been drifting in and out of various states of mental insanity lately because I'm in fucking love. Sigh. Oh well. Hopefull it'll just fuel the writing fire. Anywho, enough about me...


"Why did you let me sleep?" Ally asks softly as she wakes up. She's still in the waiting room at the hospital, and she's still nuzzled up on Austin's chest.

"You deserved to. I called in a favor from one of my co-workers and he closed up the store. He let people know you had a family emergency and they were fine with it. Everything's alright, Ally," he soothes. She sits upright. Her eyes are glazed over with sleep.

"Thank you," she whispers. He nods.

"Do you want to check on him? It's been an hour or so," he says.

"You stayed here for an hour?" she asks incredulously.

He gives a gentle smile, a seriousness in his eyes. "Of course I did."

She sighs. "I just want to see him again," she says. He nods and they go back to where he is.

She presses her nose to the glass as stares in. He's awake now, but he looks exactly the same as he did before. He's still so pale and fragile-looking, but this time it stings Ally less because she knows what to expect. She stays like that for a while, just looking at him. Taking him in.

She works up the courage to open the door and walk in. His eyes register her. "Ally..." he croaks meekly. His room is cluttered with half-finished cups of water, untouched food, and clothes. It's reminiscent of a messy hotel room, but more sad.

"Hey Dad, we just came back to, um...to say goodbye," she explains quickly. He nods tiredly and reaches out to touch her hand. She slips her tiny hand in his.

Every person has a few different kinds of smiles. There are the ones that are genuinely warm, that you give to your friends and your family when you're just generally happy. There are polite smiles to strangers. And then there are sad, forced smiles that sting just like tears. Those smiles for the people that need it the most, for the people that can't smile for themselves anymore. Those smiles are for wives who lost their husbands and children who found out that their mom died. They're the saddest kind of smiles. And Ally realizes that's exactly the smile she's giving her dad. A sad, forced, hopeless, apologetic one.

She quickly returns to being expressionless. His face is naturally expressionless. She suddenly feels like she shouldn't be there, like he doesn't even want to see her, even though she knows that's not true. He just looks so tired, like he's not up for anything. She leans over the hospital bed and gives him a weak hug. He's lost so much weight, like maybe parts of him aren't even there anymore. Like little by little, he's losing himself.

"I'll see you tomorrow, alright Ally Gator?" he murmurs. She nods, blinking back tears.

"I'll see you tomorrow, Dad. I love you," she whispers, kissing his cheek. He smiles meekly and closes his eyes.

Very few things change everything. Cancer changes everything. The hospital talk, the visits, the uncertainty. It's so different, and it's awful because there's nothing she as a caring daughter can do but hold on to hope.

"Are you gonna be okay?" Austin asks quietly. She snaps out of her thoughts and nods.

"Yeah," she mouths. He puts his arm around her shoulders, and she remembers what her dad told her about Austin. Let him take care of you...

She wraps her arms around Austin's waist. She lets him hold her.


She decides to keep the music store closed for the rest of the day. She hangs around the hospital for a while more, then Austin leaves to go to work. She leaves not long after.

She's tired. She's exhausted. She's distraught. And she finds herself needing someone.

She thinks about calling Austin. He's always so nice to her, and she loves it. When she's with him, she feels like a carefree kid again. He always knows how to cheer her up, even when she's at her saddest. Like now. She can't call him, though. She's been too demanding of him already. He's at Sonic Boom basically all day working, but he doesn't get paid, plus he has to deal with all of Ally's problems with her dad. She doesn't call. She figures he deserves a break from her life.


The next day passes quickly and silently. Austin tends to the store all day and Ally drifts back and forth between Sonic Boom and the hospital. Her dad isn't getting any better, but he's also not visibly worse. She still has hope he'll recover, but Dr. Ing is starting to smile at her less, like she knows something. Like she's perfectly aware of what could happen.

She's leaving the hospital for the night when Austin comes up to her. "Hi," he greets gently.

She gives him a timid smile. "Hey," she croaks.

He walks beside her. "Have you talked to Dr. Ing?" he asks.

She nods. "She says it doesn't look...good." She whispers so the words hurt less.

He wraps his arms around her, his hands rubbing her back soothingly. "He's brave. You're brave too," he assures her quietly.

She nods into his strong chest. They're breathing together, moving together. She stays pressed up against him for way too long, but he doesn't make any move to stop her.


It's almost three in the morning when the phone rings. She looks at the caller ID, and she sees that it's the hospital.

"Hello?" she answers exhaustedly.

"Allyson Dawson? Your father has just suffered a stroke."

She freezes. A stroke. It's a loaded word, like cancer or chemo. It brings about images and thoughts and tragic stories.

"I'll be right over," she says, with tears in her eyes. She throws on some clothes and jumps into her car.

When she gets to the hospital, she rushes to his room. His bed is surrounded by three nurses, and they're all talking back and forth.

She squeezes her way in and looks at him. He's pale, his skin pallid and scarred, and he's barely moving. His eyes are rolled back into his head. She puts her hand on his chest and hearts his faint, weak heartbeat. She feels her own chest tighten up at this.

"Hi Daddy," she whispers, tears stinging in her eyes. But the words dissipate into the room, breaking down into mere particles that no one can hear. She sits on the edge of his bed and holds his hand. It's cold.

She remembers how when she was a kid and she had cold hands, he'd hold them and warm them up. A few tears slip out of her eyes as she rubs his hand with her small ones, warming him up.

There are moments in life when everything comes full circle. Her dad was always there for her. And even though she can't save her dad, she can still be there for him. It's comforting for her to know that he's dying surrounded by people who wanted to save him, including his daughter. He's dying with someone to warm his hands.

The EKG flatlines. The right side of his body sags first, then all of him. His mouth gapes slightly and he's gone. More doctors rush in, but Ally's mind isn't rushing at all. She's calm. So is he.

She's still holding his hand, but he's not warming up. Not like when she was a kid. The doctors are pushing her away, but she never lets him out of her sight.

The doctors send Ally out. She stands just on the other side of the door, still looking in through the window. She's breathing deeply, breathing for both of them. And suddenly there's too much air, and she's not calm anymore. It's hitting her. It's really hitting her that her dad is gone.

She's alone. She's all alone this time. She finds herself choking on the tears and desperately needing arms around here. She hears someone running down the white hallway towards her. It's Austin.

"I got the call, what's happening?" he asks, his voice saturated with concern and panic. His eyes change when he gets close to her, when he reads her eyes. "Ally..." he breathes gently. She doesn't respond, not at all. Not a flicker of eyes or a pinched smile. She isn't up for sympathy right now. Not yet. For now she just needs arms. She needs arms that lead up into a chest and a heart. And eyes. She needs eyes that will look at her, not through her. Not yet.

Austin holds her close. He doesn't say he's sorry or try to make it better, and she's grateful for that. Because he can't make it better, and he knows that. In that moment, he's right there with her, a part of her. They're the same for a moment. They're the same. For just a moment, she's gone. And that's good. Because everyone leaves at some point. And it's good being gone.