Disclaimer Seth Rollins, and the various other superstars mentioned in this story are the property of the WWE and/or the actors / sports entertainers / superstars that portray them. This story is intended as tribute only and is not intended to infringe on any copyrights.

Original characters are the property of myself, and only children of my own imagination. Any resemblance to any real persons, living or dead is purely coincidental.

The Girl Who Lives
Part Seventeen

Proper or not, Seth and Kayla let Payton sleep with them, unwilling to make her sleep alone when it was clear she needed to be with them. They put her in the middle of the bed, between the two of them, but somehow, and Seth would never know exactly how this happened, when he woke up the next morning, he was in the middle of the bed, lying on his back, Kayla and Payton cuddled up on either side of him. For a moment, he just lay there, enjoying the feeling of the warmth and love he felt coming from both of the favorite females in his life.

Then, he realized he really, really had to pee. Fortunately, while he was debating how he could get out of bed without waking either Kayla or Payton, Kayla opened her eyes and in a sleepy voice, whispered, "G'morning, love."

"Good morning," he whispered back, gently moving away from Payton. "I'm sorry about this, but I really need to use the bathroom."

Kayla smiled, looking sleepily amused, but she moved out of the way to let Seth out of the bed.

The master bathroom was large and had one feature that Seth loved; the toilet was in its own room inside the room. While he and Kayla weren't very shy around each other, they had lived in too many crappy studio apartments on his road to success for shyness, but it was nice to know you could be using the john while the other was brushing their teeth or taking a shower and not have to worry about scents or noises. The little room had a very loud, very powerful vent fan, and Seth was sure that was deliberate.

When Seth got out of "The Inner Sanctum" (as they jokingly called it) Kayla was brushing her teeth at one of the sinks in the double vanity. "Is Pay still asleep?" he asked as he went over to the other sink to brush his teeth.

"No, she woke up and went to use her bathroom," Kayla said. The guest room Payton was using used to be the master bedroom, before the third floor attic had been converted, and it had its own private bathroom. Seth noted how Kayla had called it "her" bathroom, making it seemed as if it was Payton's and Payton's alone. And it is, he thought,as he brushed his teeth. Even when she goes home, when she visits here, that's her bedroom and thus that is her bathroom. He had the feeling neither he nor Kayla would be eager to have anyone else use that room, even if Payton wasn't staying with them. I want to paint that room her favorite colors. I want to buy her a new bedspread and sheets and fill that room full of toys and things she'd like.

He wondered if he was thinking like this because deep down, he knew the end of this time was coming near. Once the shock of Preston's passing died down, surely the Caldwells would demand their daughter come home and they would have to comply. And the part of him that loved that little girl as much as if she were his daughter, hoped fervently that Myron and Andrea would wake up and realized what a treasure they had in Payton. What a bright, delightful child she was, and they would put aside their false blame for Preston and even though they would never stop missing and loving Preston, would realize that they had quite a gift in their daughter and with time, would grow to love her as she deserved to be loved.

But another part of him, smaller, and much more self centered, wished he and Kayla could run away with Payton, go somewhere where they would never be found and start life over again. I don't want to lose her! he thought.

"Me either," Kayla said.

He looked in the double mirror that ran the length of both sinks, where Kayla was looking back at him, her eyes filled with tears. For a moment, he thought she had read his mind and responded. Then he realized he must have said it out loud.

He put his toothbrush down and took the couple of steps towards her. She turned to face him and then the both of them were hugging each other, trying to comfort each other, trying to find the strength within each other to prepare them for the day they knew was coming sooner, rather than later.

When they went downstairs, Payton was already in the kitchen and so were Dean and Roman. And, much to Seth's surprise and shock, Dean was at the stove, pouring something into a fry pan.

"Uncle Dean is making scrambled eggs!" Payton enthused, once everyone had greeted each other. "And Uncle Roman is making toast!"

"Yeah, we're going to see if Roman is as good as Neil at toast making," Dean quipped, grinning brightly.

"Wow, this is nice!" Kayla exclaimed as she sat at the table, which had been set for five. "Even better!" she continued, when Roman took a break from the toaster and came over with a pot of freshly made coffee, which he poured into hers and Seth's cups.

"I'll reserve my judgment until I've tasted Dean's eggs," Seth said, trying not to grin.

"Aw, just you wait," Dean said, turning and pointing the spatula he was using at Seth. "You're going to love my eggs. Cinnamon and Neil say they're the best scrambled eggs they've ever tasted."

"They might be a bit biased," Seth pointed out, winking to Payton and Kayla, his back to Dean so he wouldn't see.

"They have excellent taste," Dean said. "You'll see. Once you taste my scrambled eggs, you'll never order scrambled eggs from Waffle House or IHOP again."

"I don't order them now," Seth reminded him. Usually, Seth eschewed places like Waffle House and IHOP, but when he had no choice, he usually ordered his eggs over medium.

"That's because you don't realize what good scrambled eggs are," Dean countered as he stirred the egg mixture with the spatula. "Once you taste my eggs, you'll wish you could eat them all the time."

"Again, I claim the right to reserve judgment until I'm eating them," Seth said, dropping another wink to Payton who was giggling, her hand over her mouth, trying to keep Dean from hearing.

"Well, I can tell you the toast is golden brown," Roman said, a grin on his own face. "So, if his eggs don't live up to the promises, we can at least have toast."

"Oh man, everyone loses faith in me," Dean said, shaking his head in mock disgust. "But you'll see."

Dean and Roman had done more than make breakfast. As they were eating (and Seth had to admit, Dean's scrambled eggs were pretty good) Roman told them that they had been in touch with Stephanie and Triple H. Seth had a late morning / early afternoon interview to do on a local sports radio show. They had managed to convince Stephanie that Seth shouldn't go, but that they could take his place. When Seth expressed worry about that, they assured him that they would do a fine job.

"Two for the price of one," Roman said. "They should be grateful."

"We'll make sure to do a show they will never forget," Dean said, with that half crazy grin on his face as he popped another forkful of eggs into his mouth.

"That's exactly what I"m afraid of," Seth said, "But seriously, guys, I can do the interview."

"I know," Roman said in that voice that somehow managed to be both soft spoken and yet have an undertone that suggested he would brook no argument, "but we thought you might want to spend a little time with your lady and Payton this morning." He did not say, "Before the wake," which Seth was grateful for.

"You can come shopping with Payton and I," Kayla commented.

Seth looked at her, brow raised, as shopping was far from a favorite activity of his. He considered asking if they would mind dropping him off at Crossfit, but then Payton spoke up. "I need nice clothes, like dresses or something." She looked at her plate and her voice was quiet. She gently laid her fork off to the side. "For tonight and for Friday." She raised her head, looking at Seth. "You don't have to come."

"I know I don't have to," Seth said, his own voice soft. "But I'd like to.

When they got to Macy's, Payton looked at the two of them and frowned. "Do I have to wear black?" she asked. "In movies and stuff, they always wear black at funerals. I don't want to wear black. Preston didn't like black."

"You can wear whatever color you want," Seth and Kayla said, almost in unison.

She picked out two dresses, one a beautiful sapphire blue and the other a glorious red color that reminded Seth of the breast of a cardinal. "Red is-was, Preston's favorite color," Payton said, as they stood in the line to pay for the dresses. She didn't say why she had picked the blue dress, but she didn't have to.

It was the color of Preston's eyes.

They found a pair of sandals in the shoe department that would work with both dresses. That's when Seth found out that Payton had very large feet for a young girl, size 5.5. He remembered hearing once that big feet on a child, meant the child would be tall, but when he asked Kayla about it, as Payton was testing out the sandals for comfort, she shook her head. "No, that's a myth for the most part. But, I do think it means she's getting ready for a growth spurt."

Payton came running over and looked at the sandals, then at Kayla. "They feel great!"

"You're not just saying that?" Kayla asked, eying Payton carefully. "I know they're very cute, but they have to be comfortable."

"They are!" Payton defended, "I walked all around the store, I jumped up and down, and they feel great!"

"All right then," Kayla said, nodding, after she studied them on Payton's feet for a few moments, seeming to judge them acceptable. "We'll get them."

"Why would she want shoes that were uncomfortable?" Seth asked, feeling puzzled, as Payton skipped off to find her sneakers and change back into them.

Kayla looked at him as if he was crazy. "Because they're cute shoes," she said, as if the answer was so obvious. "And they'll work well with both dresses. It's a win-win all the way."

"But if they're uncomfortable, why would she care how cute they are?" Seth asked, feeling slightly bewildered. He wouldn't dream of wearing uncomfortable shoes, he didn't care if they were the nicest looking pair of footwear on God's green earth.

"You don't understand," Kayla said, shaking her head. "These are really, really, cute shoes."

As they headed to a restaurant for lunch, Seth turned on the radio in the car and started trying to find the station where the interview was happening. Kayla looked at him and shook her head, but she was smiling. "What?" Seth said, giving a slightly guilty grin. "I just want to make sure they don't embarrass me."

"All right," Kayla said and looked over her shoulder to Payton. "Do you mind if Uncle Seth listens to your other uncles? Apparently, he doesn't trust them."

"I don't mind," Payton said. "But turn it up, I wanna hear it too."

"See? Our Da-niece has taste," Seth said as he turned up the volume.

Dean hadn't lied about an interview they wouldn't forget, Roman and Dean were in top form. When asked about why Seth couldn't make it, they eluded to him having been ganged up on by Roman and Dean and locked away in a box. When the DJ asked if Seth was okay, Roman said in a calm voice, "If Dean remembered to drill air holes in the trunk." And the interview continued in that vein. They wove in all the right plugs for the WWE, gave a lot of history about Seth that the radio station wanted to know, but kept up with their Kayfabe story. Several times, Seth, Kayla, and Payton would laugh at something one of the two said. Seth had to give it to them, this interview was terrific, he would not have done as well himself, given the circumstances.

At the end though, it got serious and Preston's death was mentioned. Seth tried to turn the radio off, but Payton spoke up. "Uncle Seth? Please, let me hear it."

Even though Roman and Dean had never spent much time with Preston, they spoke of the boy in glowing terms and mentioned that his death would be hard on the locker room, because Preston was much loved by many of the superstars. Payton sniffled a few times as she listened, but that was all.

When Seth had turned the radio off, she spoke up again. "He knew," she said, her voice soft, but it still carried through the car.

"What do you mean?" Kayla asked, twisting in her seat so she could look at Payton.

"He knew he didn't have much longer," Payton explained, her voice still soft and very calm. "At Raw that night, he told me."

"He said he was going to die that night?" Seth asked, using the rear view mirror to glance at her for brief fractions of seconds once in awhile, not wanting to take his eyes off the road.

"Not like that," Payton said. "I don't know if he had those words. But I said something about him coming to Smackdown the next night and he shook his head. Later, he said, 'I won't see you again.'" She turned her gaze from them and instead looked out the window at the passing cars. "He didn't sound sad though."

When she didn't speak, Kayla finally gently asked, "How did he sound?"

"Relieved," Payton said, sounding as if she had been giving this a lot of thought. "Like he'd been doing something really hard for a very long time and he knew it was getting near time to stop."

There were two sets of visiting hours for the wake, 2-4 and 7-9. Most of the WWE members going to the wake would be going to the earlier viewing hours, a few were even going to get on the private jet right after, and make the next house show. Roman and Dean would be among that group, but they would ride with Seth and Kayla and get a ride with someone else to the airport.

Kayla and Seth weren't sure if Payton should go to both viewings, but they decided to take it step by step. They would go to the early one, of course, but leave it up to her if she wished to go to the later one. That was, if her parents were still going to let her stay with them awhile longer. Although both of them said nothing, it was obvious they were afraid that might happen. Seth hoped though, that if her parents did want to take her back right then, that they could be reasoned with to let her stay with them until after the funeral.

Dolph had called Seth's phone and let him know that there was a "private" viewing between 1:45 and 2:00, and Payton was welcome to come. Apparently, Dolph had been instrumental in helping Myron and Andrea cope with all of the arrangements and had talked to the funeral director who had told him that it was a custom to let close relatives, especially children, see the body before other people arrived both to give them time with immediate family, to see if the child could handle this before others arrived.

When they got to the funeral home at 1:45 on the dot, Roman and Dean said they would stay outside until the official visiting hours began. Seth and Kayla looked at each other, wondering if they should go in, or wait outside and let Payton go in herself Yes, as far as Payton was concerned, they were family, but neither were sure Myron and Andrea would want them included. But, Payton clutched on to Seth's hand so tightly, that Seth knew he would go as far as they would allow him to.

The inside of the funeral home tried to look like a subdued living room, but it still carried with it the smell of flowers, the feeling of subdued misery. There was an easel set up by a set of double doors that had piece of poster board with a big picture of Preston, probably from a year or so ago, photo shopped to remove any signs of illness. He looked like a relatively normal, healthy five year old. Around the main picture, were many other smaller ones, all of Preston too. Later, when Seth really had a chance to look at it, he would notice the lack of Payton in these pictures. She wasn't completely absent, but you saw Myron and Andrea a whole lot more, holding Preston, or just nearby. If you saw Payton, she was likely in the background, almost as if she had wandered into the picture by accident.

A man in a very somber looking suit, obviously a worker in the place looked at them oddly, as if he might question why they were there, then he saw Payton. "Are you Payton?" he asked the girl.

She nodded. "This is my Uncle Seth and my Aunt Kayla," she said, her voice clear and calm. "They brought me here."

"Of course," the man said and opened the double doors that lead into the receiving room. "Your parents are inside all ready," he said, his voice so calm and soothing that Seth wondered how long it had taken him to learn that tone.

The coffin was tiny, white, and perhaps the saddest thing Seth had ever seen in his life. It was sleek, shining and a perfect miniature of the ones made for adults and that was the biggest tragedy of all, that the factories that made coffins could make enough money on coffins for children that they mass produced them. They should be handmade, Seth thought. The need for them should be so rare that you have to hire a local carpenter to make you one. And they should look a bit shoddy, as if the carpenter rushed to make it, because it isn't even worth the carpenter's time to make one up in advance.

Myron and Andrea were up by the coffin, but when they heard the door open, they turned and smiled at Payton, a tired, worn, smile as if it were nothing but a temporary thing, a tiny break in the storm of tears they had been shedding. Seth hesitated, wondering if he should wait in the back of the room and let her join her parents by the coffin. Surely, under these circumstances, Payton's parents would put aside their issues and embrace their daughter, take comfort in the knowledge that they had one living, healthy, child. But Payton did not let go of Seth's hand, only clutched it tighter and started walking towards the casket, slowly, but with determination. Again, Seth went with her. As long as she clutched his hand, he would not let go. Myron and Andrea kept up with the watery, teary eyed smiles, but they did nothing that would encourage Payton, nothing to indicate that they were looking at their beloved living daughter who had lost a brother, just as they had lost a son. It took everything Seth had to keep his expression neutral. As much as part of him wanted to lay into the Caldwells, he knew he couldn't do it here, not in this room, with this tiny, perfect coffin holding the body of a child so beloved by three people in this room.

When they got up to the front, Seth forced himself to look in the casket. Preston was laid out, wearing what looked to be a new black suit with a white dress shirt. The usual make up procedures had been done in an attempt to make him look like a sleeping child, but there was something off about it.

Payton didn't hesitate, she looked in the coffin, said nothing, but squeezed Seth's hand tighter.

"Doesn't he look peaceful?" Myron asked.

Payton turned and looked at him, and while Seth couldn't see her expression, there must have been something about it, because Myron frowned and repeated, "Doesn't he look peaceful?"

"No," Payton said, and Seth had the feeling this might be the first time she ever disagreed with her father, at least out loud. "He looks dead. But it's okay, he is dead."

"Payton!" Andrea exclaimed, looking horrified.

"That isn't Preston," Payton said, shaking her head. "We watched him sleep a million times! Preston always slept on his side or stomach if he didn't have an IV or something. And if he slept on his back, his mouth was open, and his hands were flopped about and a lot of times he had a snot bubble on his nose. That was Preston. Preston never laid quietly and looked pretty. This doesn't look like Preston sleeping at all."

Don't you dare contradict her, Seth thought, as Payton's fingers remained curled around his. If you tell her she's wrong, I will forget that I'm supposed to be nice and burn you a brand new asshole. You have your way of coping and she has hers. You lost your beloved son, but she lost her brother. Who, for all intents and purposes, she should have hated for all the love you lavished on him while neglecting her, but because this little girl has such a big heart, she still managed to love him. So don't you dare try to take this away from her. Let her say what she needs to say.

"Well," Andrea began, but she stopped, clearly not knowing what to say to this.

Myron moved closer, deciding the best way to deal with Payton's outburst was to pretend it had never been said. "Here," he said, going to grab her around the waist. "Let me lift you up so you can kiss your brother goodbye."

"NO!" The word roared out of Payton's mouth and she let go of Seth's hand, but only to duck away from her father and hide behind him. "I kissed him goodbye at Raw, when he was alive! I won't kiss him now! No!" She threw her arms around Seth's waist, hugging him from behind. Hardly aware that he was doing, it, Seth straightened himself to his full height of 6' 1", at least three inches taller than Myron, and clenched his jaw. He felt his right hand curl into a fist as if he would punch Myron Caldwell right in his smug mouth if he didn't back off from his daughter, right that second.

"I don't think that's really necessary," Kayla said, stepping forward with a smile on her face, but an air about her that said she wouldn't argue, either. "Payton doesn't feel she has to kiss Preston good bye and personally? I think we should respect her wishes."

"But, this is the last time-" Andrea began.

"No, it isn't," Payton said, from behind Seth. "The last time for kissing him was Raw! This isn't Preston!" She hiccuped and a sob escaped from her lips. "Preston is gone, this is just-just-just-" she stammered trying to come up with the word she wanted. Seth had a pretty good idea, but he didn't want to distract her. "-a shell!" she finally said. "Don't want to kiss him. I don't want to remember him as cold and dead. I want to remember him sleeping with his mouth open and a snot bubble and his arms flopped out. That was Preston, not this." She pointed to the coffin, jabbing her finger angrily at the body.

"You heard her," Seth said, suddenly not caring about keeping peace. If they wanted him to keep peace they had to meet their daughter half way at least. "She'd rather remember her living brother than her dead one. And I think we should respect it."

By now, the funeral director had come into the room, hearing the commotion. "Is everything all right?" He asked.

"It's fine," Kayla said. "I think seeing her brother like this is a little much for Payton. We're going to take her out of here and let her get herself together." And without even looking at Myron and Andrea, she took Payton's hand and Seth's and lead them out of the viewing room.

The funeral home was a large Victorian mansion which had been converted. It still had a huge, wrap around porch with a porch swing. Kayla lead Payton out there, which faced the street, not the parking lot. The porch swing was big enough for all three of them, and they sat down, Payton in the middle. Not a word was spoken, they just rocked on that swing chair, each of them trying to compose themselves. Payton sniffed several times and Seth reached into the pocket of his suit, pulled out a handkerchief he only carried when he wore a suit, and handed it to her. Payton took it and blew her nose.

A few minutes later, Andrea came out on the porch, alone. She walked over to the three of them, timidly, as if she were walking into enemy territory. "I-I'm sorry," she said, looking at Payton. "We-we didn't think it would upset you so."

Seth wanted to rip into her, even out here while they were calming down, wanted to tell her that kissing a dead body was a miserable custom, and if Payton didn't want to participate in it, good for her. But he held himself in check, letting Payton speak.

"Well, it did," Payton said, a little more than defiant.

"I know," Andrea said. "And we won't ask you again. Y-you're right, Payton. That isn't Preston. Preston's soul has gone to Heaven, that's just his earthly body in there."

Payton stared at her mother for a moment, as if waiting for a "but" to come from her mouth. When none came, she shrugged. "I loved him. But not like this," she mumbled.

Andrea wrung her hands, looking stressed. "I-I came out here to ask something too," she said, her voice soft.

"What?" Payton said, a bit loudly and a little rudely, as if she felt her mother had no business asking anything of her or Seth and Kayla.

"Well, I want to ask, uhm, Kayla and Seth, uhm... if they would mind watching you for a little while longer." She looked at Kayla and then to Seth. "Maybe a few more weeks? I-I know this isn't easy, taking her in like this, but she seems pretty settled with you folks. And, it's not that we don't want her, we do, but-" her voice trailed off.

"But you need a little time to digest this, to get over this," Kayla finished for her. "Some time to come to terms with the loss of your son. That's understandable. And if Payton wants to stay with us, of course we'd love to have her."

Seth looked at Payton, already knowing the answer but feeling some formality needed to be followed. "Do you want to stay with us, Pay?"

Payton nodded, the angry gleam in her eyes fading.

"Good, then that's settled," Andrea said, no longer wringing her hands.

"Are you going to be all right?" Kayla asked, concern in her voice. "I mean, yes, I know you're not going to be all right for awhile, and we'll keep Payton as long as you need us to, we love having her stay with us, we love her. But, is there anything we can do? Any way we can help you?"

"You help by taking care of Payton," Andrea said and even though there was still a wave of sorrow radiating from her, she managed a smile that looked almost genuine. "Myron and I? We're going to be fine. We just need a little time to sort this out." She looked at Payton, with an expression that Seth could almost believe was one of caring. "You'll be all right, won't you, Pay?"

She stared at her mother, then nodded. "I love Uncle Seth an' Aunt Kayla," she said, "I like staying with them."

Andrea's smile didn't waiver. "Then it's all settled." And with that, she turned to leave.

Payton got up then. "Mom?"

Andrea turned. Payton ran over and hugged her mother, and from what Seth could tell, it seemed to be genuine. "Thank you," she said, when they drew apart.

"You're welcome," Andrea said. "Just be a good girl, okay?"

"She's the best," Seth said, without even thinking.

End of Chapter Seventeen.

Special Thanks To:

Guest: Yeah, that was a sad chapter. And look! I've updated!

Emilee: I am rather fond of mint milano cookies myself, I confess. And yes, Preston's passing is sad, but, I don't think it was really much of a shock. At least I hope not.

Torrie: While I don't like to cause misery in real life, the fact that my words could move you to tears means a lot to me as a writer.

I won't give out any spoilers, in part because I'm not sure myself how this will end.

As for catty people, I've decided that it's not my problem. If they want to confront me, they can. I've done nothing wrong.

Angela: No, I didn't want it to linger. I figure Payton saying good bye and Preston responding was enough of a hint of what was coming soon. I mean, the title of the story kinda gives away what happened.

Of course Dean and Roman would help with Payton so Seth could do his interviews. If Seth is their brother, they consider Payton their niece. It doesn't matter that officially she isn't theirs, they're not blind, they can see she belongs with them.

The issue though, is that courts and the law rarely see what's "right" vs. what's "legal." And, we live in a society that assumes parents love their children, a bit odd considering how many times we see reports on TV about children being killed or abused by parents. But, because of this, it's almost impossible to get a child taken away from their parents, unless you can prove abuse or neglect. And by neglect, the kid has to show signs that he or she is not getting the proper basic necessities. There's no law that says you have to cuddle your kid, or hug your kid or read her a bedtime story, sad to say.

Aww, I'm glad you like my version of Seth. I just can't stand the idea of the brotherhood being lost, and I've heard rumors that they're still friends, so I figured I'd keep it going. Onstage? They're gonna play the part, but backstage? Brothers.

Yeah. I mean, I don't want Bryan to leave wrestling, I rather like him. But I'd much rather he left and had a decent life than stuck around and ended up permanently hurt. I'd rather see him on the announcer table or filling some other role if necessary, so the fans will still get to see him. He wasn't even able to fight in Extreme Rules because of injury.

Yup. Agree on Lesnar. I think there is a place for Lesnar in the WWE, I just don't think the place is always being champion. It just comes across oddly to me. If they want to make him champion, then split the belts again and let him hide with one while the other one is fought for. I don't buy into the whole BS that "You appreciate it more not seeing it all the time." I get irritated at Raw and Smackdown becoming, "The Seth Rollins and Some Other Guys Too" show, but I'd rather see that then just to have Heyman come out every few weeks and scream at us that yes, we still have a champion, but no, he doesn't want to come out and play. It makes me feel like he's snubbing the fans. "Give me the toys and the money, but I don't want to deal with all those icky fans out there. Ewww!"

I agree on Roman/Show, but I am kind of curious. Latest gripe? People are hoping it doesn't last too long. Which blows my mind, considering they also gripe that Roman gets "Gassed" too easily.

I want to see Dean/Harper, but I'm scared that they'll stick to what they have been doing, which is Dean is the Popular Jobber that is used to get EVERYONE but Dean over. I'm tired of that. I want to see Dean go somewhere!

To All Reviewers, both Register and Unregistered: Thank you so much for all your comments. They mean a lot to me and they always will. I know my words never do justice to how grateful I am, but it's true. You are the ones keeping me going. Every review tells me that people want me to continue. Every favorite, every follow tells me this story has touched people. I feel blessed that this story has been so well received.

(I wrote the above before I watched Extreme Rules, so it's a little... outdated now. I wrote it before I sent it off to my beta reader)

Author's notes: Sometimes, art imitates real life and sometimes real life takes a cue from fiction. Yesterday, I had to put my oldest cat down. He was 15 years old. I woke up yesterday and he wouldn't eat, his back legs wouldn't work, and there was vomit all over the house. We knew he was getting old. He would become disorientated at times, and he was getting incontinent. But, it's strange, I knew the day would come yet I went, "Soon, but not today." It was never today, until yesterday. Then yesterday became the day.

I know some folks will not understand, but I think a lot of folks will. My boy was a very special cat. I rescued him from the streets. I had him first, but when my S/O and I got together, that cat had a talent for making each of us feel like were the special one in his life, like we were his favorite. He loved to curl up next to me while I wrote and lick my fingers. He loved to sit in the chair behind my S/O while they watched TV. He liked to sit behind me when I watched TV and lick my hair. He stayed with me when I was sick, he made me laugh when I was well. He caused more trouble as a kitten than I could dream possible, but I loved him for all of it. As far as I'm concerned, we lost one of our best friends. While I'm not one of those people who think that a cat = human baby, I do feel that when you bring a creature into your house, love them unconditionally as they love you, you have every right to see them as a member of your family. So, while I've been dealing with Preston dying in this story, I'm dealing with the loss of my own little guy. I know I'll get through this, I've dealt with losing my parents, I've dealt with losing other family members. But for now, I mourn. Not for him. I know that if there is a heaven, he ran up the stairway, rushed through the gates, ran to my dad and bit his pants, because that's just the way he rolled. But I mourn for me, for my S/O and that we'll no longer wake up with his beautiful gold eyes staring into ours as if to say, "Oh? Are you awake? FEED ME!" We'll be able to eat Fritos without hearing a yowling, pitiful noise that sounded like he had never eaten in his life, even if he ate five minutes earlier. We'll never see him lifting his tail and trying to mark the dishwasher, even though he was fixed and couldn't spray. We'll never look down to see him with a ball in his mouth. Never be up half the night because he wants to race up and down the stairs a million times.

And he'll never bite our pants again.

And.. it hurts.

Peace Out

Willow.