A/N Sob! Sigh! The end is nigh!

Ha, that actually rhymes!

I guess I'm a better writer than I thought. But anyway, in all serious, this is the final chapter of Meant to Be. Yes, its been a glorious year of over 300 reviews (which I am so thankful for!), but its time to end it. I would like to thank all my buds who have reviewed faithfully, and to all the new people I've met through this fic. I hope you enjoy it. I thought it was the perfect way to end the fortnight (OK, month-long) slump I've been in since Easter.

The End

Suddenly, from the corner of my eye, I saw a light. Funny, huh? I've been babbling this crap about what happens to a ghost once they've moved on, and now I'm about to experience it for myself.

"Get out!" I cried, excitedly. "So there really is a light?"

"Hold it, mediator," said a low voice to my left. It was like someone was controlling the lighting around here, as a sudden spotlight flickered to dress the figure in white light.

Paul. I should have known.

"I always thought you knew you were a God," I spat at him fiercely. "So that's why Kelly worshipped the ground you walked on. You worked some godlike mojo on her. God (haha) knows you have nothing else going for you-"

"Silence, Mediator, I have no time for your petty babble." Paul raised a hand to silence me. I scowled.

"Don't you shush me, Goddy two-shoes."

"I am no God, mediator, quite the contrary," came Paul's harsh whispery reply. "I am the Grim Reaper. And not this Paul you speak of."

"Haha," I said weakly. "You know, Halloween's not for ages."

"Silence!"

I crossed my arms, my fists curled. "So am I well and truly dead?" I asked, ignoring the threat. "Like, no pulse, white-skin dead?"

"You bet your Converse hi-tops you're dead," came "Grim"'s reply. He sounded a hell of a lot like Paul, if you ask me. "For now, anyway."

"Whaddya mean?" I queried, narrowing my eyes. "You mean there's a queue for your next life?"

"You will have no other life, Mediator," Grim replied solemnly. "You were born a mediator, and that's how you'll stay. Don't you know you were hand-selected to be a mediator?"

"Oh stop it," I laughed. "You're making me blush!"

"Suze," the Reaper suddenly resembled Paul again. "Be serious. This guy is not one to be messed with."

My eyebrows raised. "You're Paul!" I cried. "You great big stinking liar! You're Paul!"

"Hardly," the Reaper said. "The Grim Reaper only takes the form of what scares his victims most. And for you, this boy is your fear."

I snorted. "I'm not scared of Paul," I said meekly. "He should be scared of me."

"He killed you," he spat. "He brought sorrow to your family. He brought hate between your friends. He drove your soul to death. And you tell me you are not afraid?"

I took three steps towards him and sunk a fist straight into where his skull should be. But the Grim Reaper only laughed, as my hand went straight through his head. "You are dead," he sniggered. "You are not made from matter. This is just your soul. Remember, this is not time travel. This is death."

Suddenly, it hit me. I couldn't escape this. I couldn't make it all better with a sucker punch. I was doomed to Paul's - I mean, Grim's - company forever, and there wasn't a single damned thing to do.

"But there is," said the Reaper suddenly. Woah. Grim was telepathic too? This dude was a serious legend.

"Tell me," I demanded. "I need to make everything right!"

"Ah, your natural instincts," he replied. "To save everybody; put them before yourself. But now, mediator, you have to make a selfish choice. You have to think for yourself. Are you ready?"

But I had no time to answer, as Grim seized my wrist and we plunged into darkness.

"Dad..." I was appalled. I couldn't miss one second of Bugs and his friends.

This was me. Ten years ago. I saw my own fingers attached to my hands before me, but I also saw the little girl glued to the sofa, munching carrot sticks just like her hero.

"Aw, come on Champ. You gonna be a couch potato your whole life? Come running!"

I stopped munching. "How about you park yourself right here with Bugs and I?" I asked, mouth full.

"Remember this?" asked Grim in my ear. "Ten years ago, when you clung to your father's foot to ensure he was going to stay?"

Sure enough, my thin little pink fingers clamped around my dad's hairy leg. He lifted me off and hugged me tight. "OK champ," he said. "Just for today I'll lay off the exercise." He coughed.

My six-year-old self looked confused. "Gee Dad," I said. "You should go to the doc's, not the park. Here, I'll go get your coat. We're going now."

"In your PJs?" my dad asked amusedly.

"You bet," I said.

I turned to the Grim Reaper, and he stared back at me. "We found out he had a severe heart condition that day," I mused. "I saved his life. He called me his little guardian angel."

"That's right," said Grim. "If he had gone running, he would have died. He would have collapsed on the sidewalk, suffering from a cardiac arrest."

My six-year-old self turned around from fastening her shoes and spoke. "That's right, Suze," she said sweetly. "If he had gone running, you'd be with Jesse right now, not that bags of bones." She smiled at Grim. "Sorry, mister."

Grim grinned. "She's right," he said. He raised his scithe. "Its decision time," he continued. "Your father, and your death? Or your father's death and Jesse?"

"Jesse?" I repeated. "Who's Jesse."

Six-year-old me clapsed my hand. "The love of your life," she said, and then she disappeared into nothingness.

My dad did up his buttons, then turned to me. "Its OK, honey. You need Jesse. You're fine by yourself. I mean, look at yourself. You saved all those kids - Bryce, Tad, Michael, Jack, Neil... and now its time to save yourself." He took my hand and kissed it. "Its time to be selfish," he said. "I'll be OK."

I felt a warm tear going down my cheek. Good old Dad, ready to save me. He stroked my cheek, then turned to Grim. "Its time to save my girly," he whispered. And then he was gone.

The Grim Reaper nodded, and finally took his true, black-hooded form. He beared his teeth, lifted his scithe, and struck me hard. I fell to the floor, and opened my eyes.

"Susannah?" came a low voice in my ear. "Susannah? Are you OK?"

"Suzy?" came the shriek of my mother. "Oh, Suzy, you gave us all quite a scare!"

"Gee Suze, collapse when I'm at computer camp why don't you?" asked David, his eyes wider than usual.

Brad knocked my shoulder gently. "I'm late for wrestling because of you, you know."

I moved my stiff neck to look at the first person who had greeted me, and my heart sang. It was Jesse, I knew it was. It still wasn't registering properly yet, but I loved him. This was man I had lived for. The man I needed.

"Jesse," I whispered, as he kissed my forehead.

"Susannah," he said gently. "Are you OK?"

I smiled broadly. "Oh yeah," I said, sitting up. "I'm going to be just fine."