A/N: I don't own anything. This is the last part of the storyline that follows firstly "She is Love" and secondly "It's Okay", so please read those before reading this one. The events here are set a while after the end of the previous story and Demi is going home after she finishes her treatment, so it's her POV.

This story contains lyrics of the song "Passenger Seat", by Death Cab for Cutie. If you have the chance, please listen to it. Also, if you like this story, please review :). Thank you.

Passenger Seat

I slowly open my eyes, trying to stabilize my sight and recollect where I am. A calm feeling waves through my heart as I realize that you're by my side, paying attention to the road that is leading us to our home and a new beginning – hopefully a happier one.

"Hey, sleepy head." you gently say as you look at me, smiling as you realize that I'm awake.

"...Hey..." I manage to answer as I rub my eyes. It'd been a while since I decided that it would be better if I'd search for help, and put myself under treatment. I took some time alone, away from everything, and you were always there for me when I needed you, saying that you would never give up on me and that you'll love me forever. As I think about your love for me, I'm glad I took the decision of trying to make things better, of making us feel better, of loving you better. Now, I'm starting to think that I can.

"You can go back to sleep if you want, you still have some time." you say, your sweet voice caring as always. I haven't slept much last night, thinking about what'll be like from now on; and I'm exhausted, but suddenly the thought of going home makes me shiver, and I feel more awake now.

"No, it's fine. I'll wait until we get home." I answer as I sit more properly on the seat, glancing at your face once more and noticing your content smile. I smile back, thinking that maybe everything will be fine, and that I can make you smile like this more often now. This thought makes me rest my head on the seat, as I look through the window while we're on our way home.

After a few moments, I catch myself thinking that pain had always been by my side. Suddenly, I contemplate the doubt that most people have: if our lives were always supposed to happen the way they do, or if they happen like this because of our actions. I roll the window down and then begin to breathe in. The thought of people saying and doing harsh things to me in the past pops my head, and I suddenly realize that my previous thought isn't really a doubt to me, as I bitterly can't help but think that those people will probably never feel the way I'd felt: like there's no way out, no hope, no faith, nothing. I prefer to think that I haven't done anything so wrong to the point I would deserve everything I'd been through. I've learned to believe that I was supposed to overcome all that, and now I'm a stronger person because of it.

And now, I realize that the darkest country road and the strong scent of evergreen make me feel so alive, which is something I wasn't able to feel for a long time. Before, I constantly felt like I would break down anytime and for good; but now, I feel like I have all the time in the world to learn to appreciate things as they deserve to be appreciated. I try my best to notice everything I couldn't quite see during my whole life, from the passenger seat as you are driving me home.

For some reason, I smile as I observe the asphalt passing rapidly by my side, the trees and their different forms and, then looking upwards, letting my eyes travel through the sky, I strain my eyes and try to tell the difference between shooting stars and satellites. It's like I've never seen it before: the way they look so beautiful, the way they shine so intensely, the way they just... Are. I suddenly think about you, and the way you always tell me that I am beautiful as I am; and from the passenger seat as you are driving me home, I feel for the first time in my life that maybe it could be true. Maybe...

"Demi?" I hear you calling me as you quickly glance at the view I'm contemplating.

I wonder if shooting stars complete satellites the way you complete me. Do they ever find each other? "Do they collide?", I ask and you smile.

"...Huh... I don't know..." you answer, keeping the sweet smile on your beautiful face. I feel your hand in mine for a second, before you put it on the steering wheel again. ...On second thought, no: I don't think one thing could ever complete another the way you complete me; the way you know just what to do and what to say in every single moment, turning pain into joy, and joy into love.

With my feet on the dash, I look at you and feel like the world doesn't matter. After all I've been through and put you through, I finally dare myself to think that from now on, everything will be alright. We will be alright. Together.

Now I can clearly see our house, the one relatively new but with such a deep history already. As I hear you turning off the engine and opening the driver's door, I prepare myself for the next move: it's time to face everything again, to keep breathing, to keep trying. But when I see you opening the passenger's door and looking at me with your caring and loving face, I remember it's also time to keep loving you, and keep being loved by you. And this time, I'll make sure to try making you as happy as you make me.

"Are you ready?" you ask, caressing my cheek and looking into my eyes.

I stay silent for a moment, and then manage to answer "...Yeah." I can only regret it when I see the hesitance in your expression.

"A-Are you sure?"

But this time, I won't make you doubt. "Yes, Sel. I'm ready and I'm sure. As I've never been in my whole life." I say, as I lean closer to you and place our lips together for a lingering, hopeful, loving, thankful kiss. I see you smile and I do so as well, then I get up from the seat, close the door and take your hand in mine, leading us to the door of our home. I lean against you as we walk, and know I'll make sure that from now on, when you feel embarrassed, then I'll be your pride; and when you need directions, then I'll be the guide.

I feel you kissing my hair. For all time.

I grip your hand a little tighter. For all time.