Disclaimer: Not mine, not that I wouldn't mind Josh, though…I've been good!

Notes: Here it is, finally! I hope you like it; I'm not so sure about this one, so let me know…feedback would be a lovely present!

Just to make this clear: this story is an alternate "25 Things" universe, where Josh beat his cancer and is therefore still alive, per requests.

MORE COMING SOON!

Original Notes: I've decided to do each one chronicling a day/event in JJ's life, usually from one perspective. The title will begin with his age, so you'll have a frame of reference. This one is sweet and simple; it will get a bit angsty as the years go on, I think. I'll try not to make it too bad! I can't seem to keep away from it, though. And the letter will resurface, I promise…I couldn't do this universe in such a terse format, unless I'd tried describing photographs or something, which I didn't want to do.

"Jay?"

He looks up from his bed, where he's engrossed in a book. His glasses have slipped down his nose a bit. "Hey, Dad," he says, with a small smile.

"Your mom and sister are downstairs. Come say hi, huh?"

"Yeah," he says flatly. He turns down the page corner and gets up. I stifle a grin. I taught him to do that, to Donna's dismay. Donna's more of a bookmark person. He would just look at her and say simply, "Daddy does it that way."

I miss hearing "Daddy." I miss the trust inherent in that word. Ever since JJ turned eight or so, I've been "Dad." He doesn't tell me his secrets anymore, and I have to work harder to get a grin from him. Donna assures me this is just his way of establishing independence, or something. Which I get, but it was so sudden, you know? One day I was his hero, and the next, not so much. Donna says I exaggerate, but that's what it felt like. And JJ's been no help shedding light on the issue; he's just as closemouthed as I am on some things.

"So, what were you reading?"

"The Indian in the Cupboard."

Ah. "Ah. Is it good?"

"Yeah," he says in his new "obviously" tone.

"Great. So, did you and Sam go and see that exhibit on the Presidents at the American History museum?" He nods. "Well, how'd you like it?"

He shrugs. "I liked the planes better."

Oh. Well. Thank God, we're downstairs. Sam is cooing over Donna and the baby, and I feel this big, stupid grin spreading across my face, watching Donna cuddle our newborn. I look back, notice JJ still hanging back by the door. "Come on, Jay," I say.

He shakes his head. But then Donna notices him. "Hi sweetheart," she says, beaming. "Come here. I need my hug."

He crosses the room instantly. With caution, but instantly. Well. So…anyone else feeling rebuffed, here? Just me? Okay, then.

After Donna releases him, she says, "Say hi to your little sister."

"Suzy."

"Right. Susanna Marie, to be exact."

He's staring down at her wonderingly. "She's so small. How can anything so small be so pretty?"

Donna and I share a gooey "look what we did" moment, as JJ traces a finger across her cheek. I join them, and survey my daughter proudly. She is beautiful. She's got these huge, violet-blue eyes, my mother's, and her head is covered with white-blond fuzz. I'm never going to let a gomer near her.

JJ appears to be thinking somewhat along the same lines. "I'm your big brother. I'll be the best one ever." He smiles down at her, then up at me. This, her, we agree on.