The bar without Chase wasn't real. The bland, milky soup and the water-stained silverware were reminders of his absence. It had been well over a month already. I dreamed about him almost every night. In my dreams, he was back, but something was wrong, like his presence defied a natural law. I could feel the universe saying he wasn't supposed to be here. He wasn't supposed to be alive.

People in the bar spoke like usual, but his voice, the caustic tenor that sliced through the monotonous din of chatter, was missing. Owen sat on my barstool, dribbling whisky on the counter as he caught Kathy's hand and begged her to have a drink with him.

I sat at a table against the wall, Gill across from me. He wore a black scarf, snug around his neck. He hadn't taken his coat off, either, and his sleeves kept brushing against the food on his plate. I caught him looking at his cuff, so I leaned across the table to hand him a napkin.

He took it from me without a word and dabbed at the sauce. He hadn't spoken since we sat down except to order his food. I thought it would be a good idea to get out of his house, but everything was hard for him. I had to button his coat before we left because he struggled to fit the buttons through the holes. I supposed he left his coat on now because he didn't think he could take it off.

Kathy stood at the end of the table holding a water pitcher. She refilled Gill's glass and held it out to him. When he didn't reach far enough, she set it down, and then he knocked it over as he retracted his hand. The water splashed down his coat and into his pasta.

"I'm so sorry," she said, like it was her fault. "I'll bring a towel."

She went to the kitchen, and Gill looked down. Heads snapped in our direction.

"Angela," he whispered. His voice was unsteady. "I want to go home."

Kathy came back.

"Gosh, I'm clumsy. Sorry about that," she said. She stood in front of Gill, shielding him from their eyes, wiping up the spill. "You want to go clean up? Angela, there are some towels in the restroom."

I stood. Gill didn't. I leaned over, close, and whispered, "No one's looking anymore. We'll clean up and go home."

He slowly pushed away from the table and stood. We walked through the dining area and down the hall. I opened the restroom door for him and stepped in after him, then I locked the door. Gill tugged on his coat, trying to work the buttons out of their holes. I moved to help him, but he stepped back, unable to do it himself but unwilling to let me help.

"Did you see?" he said. "They were all staring."

"They weren't staring at you. They thought Kathy spilled the water."

"No," he snapped. "Look at me. I look horrible."

"You look fine. Just a little tired."

"Stop it." Gill stood in front of the mirror and gripped the edges of the counter. "Stop trying to make everything sound better. I don't look fine. I look like I'm dying. Do you understand? It's because I am. You're wasting your time with me."

"Don't say that."

"You're lying to yourself, Angela. I know what it's like," he said. "I watched my mother die, and nothing I did mattered. She died. I'm a burden to my father. Even Chase left. Please, stop pretending."

"I promise I'm not that good at pretending."

"You know, I used to wonder why everyone leaves." Gill turned toward me. "Now I realize how stupid I was. I can't work. I can't do anything. No one relies on me. How can someone like me have any value as a person? All I do is take and suffer and hurt everyone I love." Tears gathered in his eyes. "I can't even take my own damn coat off."

There was a knock on the door. "Everything okay in there?" Kathy called.

"Yeah," I answered. "We'll be out in a minute." Then to Gill I said, "I know it's not easy. But you're wrong."

He shook his head. "Then you're crazy. Everything you've done for me, I wouldn't do the same for you. I wouldn't do it for anyone."

"I don't know why you want to believe that so much. It's not true," I said. "Look at everything you had planned for this town. You love it. You want to make it great for everyone." I lifted my hand toward him again, and this time he didn't pull away. I unfastened the buttons on his coat, starting from the bottom. When I finished the top button, I slid my hand to the space above his heart and rested it there. "Back in the city, Chase was going to bleed to death. You saved him. You've taken care of Chase so many times. You've taken care of me. Maybe you don't feel like you're doing much now, but I love you for everything you've done. You have the same kindness now as you did before. You're stuck with me. I'm sorry."

Gill touched my hand. "I thought so," he whispered. "After it's all over, don't forget how much I hated what this did to everyone. Please. Don't forget how sorry I was."

I dabbed at the water on his coat while he held it out for me. When it was dry, he slipped it back on and clutched the front together rather than attempting the buttons. I put some money on the table, and we left the bar, our food half-eaten. People stared as we walked past.

The clear sky glittered with stars. I looked toward the moon, thinking maybe this was the last night Gill could see the stars. It would only get colder, and I couldn't imagine the sky so cloudless again.

"Do you want look at the stars?" I asked.

He glanced up. "Okay. I guess." Maybe he was thinking the same thing.

We walked down the path, to the base of the hill just beyond his house. The climb wasn't steep and it took only a few minutes. By the time we reached the top, though, he was breathing hard.

"Sorry," I said, grimacing in apology.

Gill waved his hand dismissively. He pointed to an area of brown grass in the middle of the hill. I followed behind him.

Then I lost my footing and the ground shifted under me. Gill turned and tried to catch my arm, but I fell into him and gravity sent us careening sideways. I tumbled over a rocky patch and felt stone tear into my arm.

Scrambling to my feet, I searched for Gill. He was close by, flat on his back, groaning. I knelt down next to him, ignoring the stinging in my arm, and looked him over for injuries.

He pushed himself up. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah. Are you?"

"I think so." His chest heaved for air, and then his mouth curled into a lopsided smile. "That was a terrible murder plot."

I stood, laughing, and offered him a hand. "Sorry."

We went back to our brown grass and lay on our backs. When I was sure he was staring at the sky, I looked at my arm. It wasn't as bad as it felt. The rock just grazed my skin. I wiped the blood in the grass.

"There's Sirius," he said, holding his hand out like he could touch it. "See? It's the brightest."

"Do you know about the stars?"

Gill tucked a hand under his head. "A little bit."

"Chase told me he only remembers a few things about his mom," I said. "She liked her music loud, and she liked the stars. She tried to teach him about the constellations. He said he can't remember anything, though."

"Well, I'll teach you some. Then you can show him when he comes back."

You'll show him yourself, I wanted to say. Instead I nodded.

"Orion is easy. See those three bright stars in a line there? That's his belt."

He swept his hand across the sky, guiding me through the stars—the twins Castor and Pollux, Orion's hunting dogs, the Pleiades, Cassiopeia.

I listened to every word. I tried to take mental notes as he spoke. He didn't talk fast, and he paused to catch his breath often, but the information was overwhelming. How could he know all this and think he was worthless?

I hadn't said anything in a while. I'd let him lead me wherever he wanted to go. But now he was slowing, his pauses longer, his words less clear. He trailed off in the middle of a sentence about the sea monster Cetus. I looked over. His eyes were closed.

"Sorry," he whispered. "I'm getting a little tired. You're still awake, aren't you?"

"Yes, I was listening raptly."

He raised himself to his elbows. The moon glinted off his hair like it was wet. Curious, I reached over to touch it, and my hand came away dark and slick. Panic erupted in my chest.

"Gill, you're bleeding. Why didn't you say something?"

"Huh?" He touched the back of his head and looked at his hand. "Oh, it's a scratch."

I ran my fingers across the grass where he'd been lying. Sticky blood coated my palm.

"We have to see Jin. Are you dizzy? Can you stand?"

"It's fine," he said, getting to his feet. "I feel fine."

I stayed close to him as he walked back down the hill. We were nearly to his house when he grabbed my arm. His face was white.

"Maybe we can stop for a bandage" he said, his voice thin and breathy.

Gill leaned against me as we walked, and he stumbled into the clinic when I opened the door.

Jin led him behind a curtain, and when I got to see him again, he was lying in bed with a bandage around his head.

"I can't handle a scratch very well anymore." He smiled. "Maybe it wasn't such a bad murder plot after all."

The next morning snow blanketed the ground. I went to the clinic after I took care of my animals. As soon as I opened the door, I heard a moan. I moved toward the curtain, but Jin emerged and took me back to the waiting area.

"He woke up with a headache," Jin said. "I gave him something for the pain, but it's quite severe. He should be fine once it subsides."

It lasted three hours. I went in to see him when the pain started to fade, but he was too exhausted to do anything besides blink at me.

For the next several weeks clouds covered the sky, and I was glad. I didn't want to see the stars, or even think about them.

A/N: Yes, Blue and Crimson, you're right - - the story is almost over. This chapter was pretty short, but the next three will be much longer. That's it, though. Just three more chapters. :'( Thank you all! I really appreciate the reviews so much. (Things get a little better in the next chapter, sort of :P )

- Violet