Here's the next chapter :) Enjoy everyone. Thank you SO much for all the reviews, I appreciate them so much! You guys rock! Read, enjoy, and please keep on reviewing! Next chapter will hopefully be up soon.

-Jen

Note: I believe I've been all over with Miley and Oliver's ages...Sorry about that, I confused myself. It is 2013, and Miley is 20, Oliver is 21. Miley will turn 21 on November 23, 2013.


Dark. That was all I could see. My eyes were closed, and I couldn't find the strength to open them. I didn't know where I was, I didn't know what was going on. All I knew was that I couldn't possibly be alive because I couldn't feel her weight on me, I couldn't feel the warmth of her skin, I couldn't smell her. And my pain, the pain that had burdened me for I don't even know how long anymore was gone...but knowing I couldn't be with her anymore gave me a whole new level of pain.

Resigning to the fact that I wouldn't be doing anything except laying here for a while, I thought.

Assuming of course, that I was in heaven (I hadn't done anything that bad in life, at least, nothing that I could think of...), I hoped I'd be able to look over her. Make sure that she was ok, and happy. I wanted that for her. She deserved that, and then some. She deserved everything she wanted.

For some reason, she had wanted me.

I had never been quite able to figure that out. She had never given herself enough credit. Miley was smart, talented, and beautiful. For years she had been the one I had wanted. I had wanted to be with her since...I can't even remember now. I think it was sometime after I had found out she was Hannah. I realized that some part of me kind of always knew.

There was something familiar about the blond pop star who took the world by storm, had always had been. Especially the smile. Miley's smile was one thing I'd always loved about her...well, I loved everything about her, but her smile I'd always been partial too. One reason was that I could always tell when she was faking happiness. She did that a lot, especially lately.

When she was really and truly smiling, it always reached her eyes. Her face lit up. I loved to see her smile...I loved to see her really, truly, honest to God happy. When she was upset, sad, or hurt and tried to play it off as though she wasn't, I could always tell.

I hated anyone who made her less then happy, and I hated myself because lately, that's all she was, because of me. I know I can't help being sick, but that was one of the reasons I had kept it from her as long as I did.

Everyone always said "what you don't know, can't hurt you," and so I had used that to defend my actions to myself.

What she didn't know couldn't hurt her. She'd be better off living in blissful ignorance, then knowing the truth and hurting every day, sitting by my bedside waiting for me to die. I hadn't wanted her to remember me like I was just before. I wanted her to remember me how we were before my disease ruined it all. When all there was was her and I, our love, and trying to figure out our lives.

I missed her already. I miss feeling her next to me. I miss the way her head fit in to the crook of my neck as though it belonged there. I missed the way she'd hold on to me...as though I was her connection to life. I missed feeling her fingers tracing random patterns on my skin when we were laying together.

I missed her laugh. It'd been a while since I'd heard it. I missed hearing her sing...she hadn't done that in a while either. I missed her smile, her face.

I missed everything about her. I missed everything I'd never get again.

I'd never get to hold her, hug her, kiss her, tell her I love her, make love to her.

I'd never get to propose to her. I'd never get to see her walk down the aisle in a white dress to me, and have her become my wife.

I'd never get to hold her and tell her it'd all be ok again. I'd done that a lot in the past. Every year on her mother's death anniversary. I'd lay in her bed with her and hold her, watching old home videos with her and looking through pictures while she cried.

I'd always wanted to meet her mother. Her mother must have had some influence on how amazing Miley was, and Miley really loved her. She'd told me that she'd have loved me and would have approved of us being together. I hoped she was right.

"Oh, she was." I heard a voice say. I found that I could now open my eyes.

I saw that I was in what looked like the hospital room I'd been in when I'd died. This room though, was white, pure white. Everything except for me and the hospital gown, and the woman sitting on the chair beside my bed and her clothing was white.

I recognized the woman instantly, I'd seen her in pictures and videos, and I'd seen her facial features and eyes in the love of my life.

"Mrs. Stewart." I said, confused.

She smiled, and nodded. "Susan." She said simply.

"But you're..." I whispered.

"Dead? I know." She smiled.

"So I'm dead too, just like I thought." I muttered. "Is this heaven? It looks like a...really boring hospital?"

"This isn't heaven." She shook her head. "But I can leave heaven...I am technically an angel, you know. I can leave if I need to. And I needed to."

"If this isn't heaven, then where is it?" I asked.

She ignored my question, and said, "Miley was right. I would approve you you dating my daughter. She loves you, Oliver. A lot. More then she'd ever loved anyone."

"How do you know that, though?" I asked, confused.

"Miley talks to me. I can't answer, of course, but she still does. When she's...cooking, or doing laundry, or just sitting there. Out loud, in her head. My baby knows I'm there, even though I left her physically long ago."

"She still wonders why you had to go." I stated simply.

Susan shrugged. "It was my time, Oliver. I couldn't stay any longer. Miley eventually will learn to accept that. But, Oliver, my daughter loves you. With all of her heart. So don't let my baby down, don't hurt her. Or I will be forced to hurt you, you hear me?" She asked, a smirk on her face, eyebrows raised. I knew she wasn't kidding.

There was just one problem. "It's too late to tell me that, Susan. I'm already dead."

"Oliver, stop worrying about that for a moment, and listen to me." She said, "True love is an amazing thing. People are lucky if they find it once, and really lucky if they find it once. There's a difference between in love, and true love. You and Miley are each others true loves. Each others one and only. My daughter wants everything with you. A future with you is her dream. It isn't going to be perfect. There's going to be ups and downs...but that's what will mean it's meant to be. The fact that you guys can and will get through them is what will give your relationship more strength."

"And I want to give her all of that, Susan. I want to give Miley everything she wants and deserves and more. But I can't. I'm dead!"

She shook her head. "You aren't dead, Oliver. You're in...the in-between." She said.

"The in-between?"

"Yes. It's where peoples minds and souls go when their body is waiting to recover, if it can be recovered. Almost two months have passed since you went to sleep that night Oliver. It's Christmas Day. Miley's 21. You're almost 22."

"I'm confused-" I began, but she cut me off.

"My daughter's very stubborn, Oliver. Just close your eyes, and...let go." Susan said, and then she was gone.

I sighed, but shut my eyes...and then, lost all control, and it was dark and blank again.

--

December 25th, 2013
UCLA Medical Center

The room was so bright, his eyes squinted against it. He heard a collection of noises.

There were steady beeping noises, as though they were coming from machines. The hum of said machines. I heard sounds that sounded far off. I heard murmured voices, including the one I'd missed the most.

My body felt still and I tried to move, letting out a sound of frustration. I heard her gasp, and then footsteps, and then there was more weight added to the bed, and I felt a body against mine, and warm hands wrapped around mine. "Ollie? Oliver? Baby it's Miley," Her sweet voice said, pleading.

"Miley." I murmured hoarsely.

I heard her let out a cry, then I felt her lips against my hands. "Yea Ollie, Miley. Open your eyes for me, baby. It's ok! You're ok! You're alive! We're together!" She said, rejoicing.

Slowly, my eyes opened and I met the world again. There she was. Her beautiful face hovered over me, her long hair framing her face in it's beautiful curls. There were tears in her beautiful blue eyes, but her face glowed with happiness. Behind her I saw my mom and sister, both also crying, My father behind them, a look of pure happiness on his face. Lilly appeared by Miley's side, and I heard Jackson, his wife, and Robbie Ray.

Miley's smile grew wider, and her hand touched my cheek. "You're awake." She whispered with joy. "Finally." She leaned down, her hair forming a curtain, and pressed her lips gently to my cheek. "I just got the best Christmas present ever." She said, kissing my cheek again.

When she rose again, I looked another with confusion, as mom mentioned something about Doctor Jacobs, and left, muttering things happily about miracles.

"But how?" I whispered, my voice weak after an evident two months of not being used. "Transplant was only option..." I muttered. "I'm weird...no matches.

"Show him." Chelsea said, and Miley smiled at me, and stood.

"Well I guess we're both weird." She said softly, and wordlessly pulled up the hem of her shirt to reveal her stomach.

There, clear on the creamy tan of her smooth skin, was the unmistakable upside down 'Y' scar that became a part of both liver transplant donors and recipients.

"I told you, Ollie," She said softly. "I knew I'd be able to save you."