DISCLAIMER: On first chapter.

Well, this is quite awkward, huh? I haven't posted on this for quite awhile. Something that I definitely regret, but I'm going to try and pick this story up once more. Here's the next installment. I hope you like what you see. :) And I sincerely apologize for the four years in between updates. Thank you!

Till' I Collapse

Part 2: The Magic of Friendship

September 1, 2007(Monday)

Cora Perry Neighborhood

The Aarons' Residence

12:23 AM

Leslie was curled up in a tense ball on a soft quilt in the back of Jess Aarons' rusty Ford pick-up. She wasn't moving. She wasn't crying. She was simply still. So still that Jesse had to double check to make sure she was still breathing. She seemed dead to him. Her bottle green eyes were unblinking and the happiness that generally surrounded Leslie Burke was gone.

Jesse didn't know how to react. His best friend had been angry, sometimes quiet, but she always had that resilient spirit around her. Her sitting there as she was right now made Jesse picture her as broken. Her bright blonde hair was dull and flat, her bottle green eyes—usually so full of life and wonderment—were sunken, vacant, and reddened from her earlier tears. Leslie's face was ashen, and her skin looked gray. He had never seen her so lifeless before. There was something about the way his best friend stared up at the sky that disturbed Jesse more than he'd really appreciated. He didn't know what to say or what to do, and it bothered him more than he wished it to. What was a guy supposed to do in this situation? How was he supposed to help her when he had no idea what was wrong?

So he simply sat beside her in silence, hoping that he was at least providing some sort of comfort to his friend. They had been outside for a long period of time—approximately two hours was Jesse's best guess and the silence continued to stretch on.

"He was like my brother." The whisper took Jesse by surprise. His head swiveled to look towards the bundle that was Leslie Burke and he was taken aback to notice the slight tremor to her shoulders.

Jesse floundered for a moment. Was he supposed to respond? Or keep his trap shut? Seeing the shudder that overtook his best friend's shoulders, he decided to chance it.

"Who?" he asked her, his voice hushed. Leslie stilled for a moment, and Jesse cringed away, wondering if he should have just shut up in the first place.

"Bill," Leslie whispered, her voice catching, "Bill was like my brother." Jesse moved slightly so he could see her face, and he wasn't surprised by the tears that glazed over her pretty green eyes. She looked torn apart by grief as she opened her mouth to speak again, "He was a part of our family. My dad met him at a book signing in Seattle, Washington, and apparently he was just different from all the other fans my father had. For weeks, my dad mooned over this so-called brilliant kid. He finally found another that could quote Teddy Roosevelt's life history without prompting." Leslie refused to meet Jesse's eyes, but he kept looking at her, making sure she knew he was there for her.

"I got so jealous that my father was obsessing over this other kid that I had never properly met before. I turned into a brat. For weeks, I did whatever I could to discredit this seemingly perfect Bill, and I made sure I had my father's constant attention," Leslie bit her lip harshly as she choked back the tumultuous guilt she felt. "I would disconnect the phone lines whenever dad was on the phone with him. I unplugged the computer when he was in the middle of an email to him. I spilt drinks all over gifts that were to be sent to Bill. At that point I hated him so much. My father was mad at me for days on end, and everyday would be another argument about my behavior. I resented Bill, because my father was so disgusted by my behavior that he could barely stand to be in the same room as me anymore."

Jesse was somewhat incredulous. He had never expected Leslie, his Leslie, to behave in such a way. He was tempted to not believe her for a few moments, but one look at the horrified look in her eyes was enough to make him realize that Leslie was here talking to him, and she wouldn't lie to him now—when she never had before.

"It all came to a head after six months of me acting like a complete butt. My dad and I were involved in a raging argument, probably the worst one ever. The memory is so clear that I wish I could get rid of it. I wish I could take back those words with every fiber of my being, but I can't." Leslie's voice broke. "You see Jesse, my father was sexually abused as a child and when his father had enough, he up and left my dad and his mom high and dry. That's what makes it so much worse. I can't believe I was ever angry enough to stoop as low as I did that day."

Leslie looked as though she wanted to hurl. Her tears weren't restrained any longer, and Jesse was shocked immobile by her revelation. He could hardly process what she'd already told him, and to know that there was more made him feel queasy.

Leslie sat up at this point and roughly jerked on her hair, "I was so cruel, Jesse. I remember exactly what I said because it was just that unforgiveable. I said 'Well if he obviously means so much to you, why don't you go ditch me and mom and fuck us over like your father did to you at my age?' And my father slapped me," Leslie stopped for a moment, seemingly unable to speak over the lump in her throat. Jesse was horrified.

How could she even think up something like that? Jesse's perspective on Leslie Burke shifted exorbitantly in those pivotal moments.

"He hit me, but I deserved it. He said he's forgiven me, but our relationship has never been the same and this was three years ago. I was nine; stupid, jealous, and ignorant. After that, my father flew us to Seattle to meet Bill. I was so ashamed of myself that I didn't object. When mom and I met him, he was nothing like what we expected. He was in a wheelchair, paralyzed for life by birth defect. He was scrawny, and weak looking, but his eyes were so bright. He was by far the most spirited and intelligent individual I had ever met in my life. When I found out he was an orphan, I felt like a heel. We spent days with Bill, but I refused to speak, trying not to hurt my father again, but it only made it worse. My dad wouldn't even look at me." Leslie clenched her hands as she pulled her knees to her chest and rested her chin atop them.

"I snuck out one night, and just cried in some random park I had found by accident. I was lost, confused, regretful, and had no idea where I was going to go. Bill found me. I don't know how, but I'm guessing he followed me. He held my hand and explained that my dad had told him all about what had happened. He comforted me even though I didn't deserve it, and helped me when I needed it. I got closer to him after that day, and he became my something of a big brother to me. After three weeks in Seattle, he pulled me aside the day we were leaving, and said, 'Talk to your father. He will forgive you, Leslie. Life is too short to regret and a true father's love for his daughter is never-ending despite any unwelcome circumstances.' I hugged him goodbye and I left. The very next day, my father received a phone call saying that Bill had violently passed away that night in his bed after bleeding to death from some external wound. They believed he committed suicide. The documentation stated that he had bled to death."

Leslie turned her face towards Jesses' and his eyes softened at the broken look of despair in those orbs. "My dad didn't talk for two weeks. He drunk all day, and only stared at pictures of Bill. When he flew to Seattle to take care of funeral arrangements, he came back a changed man. I don't know what happened but my father seemed to be back to his old self again. He even looked at me again. I still remember how much Bill implored me to talk to my father, but I still haven't done so. I just don't know how to. The anniversary of his death was Monday of last week. It's mostly the reason I was acting so weird." Leslie cried silently as she stared at Jesse.

His heart went out to her and before he even thought about what he was doing, Jesse had embraced Leslie tightly. He held her close.

"I'm here, Les," he whispered to her, and it must have been the right thing to say because Leslie broke down in his arms. She sobbed heavily into his shirt as he gently rocked her side to side. His own tears fell into the top of her head, and were soaked into the baby-soft flaxen strands. He so wanted to take away the hurt he could feel emanating from Leslie. It ate at him that there was nothing he could do to truly help. He felt useless to the crying girl in his arms.

One of Leslie's arms snaked around his back and she stretched her legs out. Jesse predictably blushed as he noticed the way Leslie practically molded her body to his as she continued sniffling into his chest. He tightened his hold on her as his chin rested atop her head. Maybe he was helping her after all.

Jesse didn't know how long had passed since Leslie curled up into his side like a cuddly kitten, but he knew it was long enough for his bottom to go numb. He shifted slightly, trying his best not to disturb the girl in his arms that had finally stopped crying. Unfortunately, his movement only made his bottom feel worse and not better. Jess wiggled around trying to regain feeling, and Leslie looked up at him curiously.

"What are you doing?" she asked her bottle green eyes watery and outlined with red, puffy skin.

Jesse tried to fight it down. The situation was bad enough, but he could feel the embarrassment creeping up his body like an overpowering sneeze trying to get out. He wiggled a little bit more, hoping the numbness would go away before he actually had to answer her.

"Jess?" And there it went. Jesse's face lit up like a Christmas tree, and he avoided Leslie's eyes. "What's wrong?"

He could hear the concern in her voice, and it made him feel guilty. Leslie sat up slowly and stared at him, worried. Jesse mumbled an answer so quietly he could barely hear himself.

"What?" she asked and Jesse sighed explosively.

"I said 'My butt was numb'."

Leslie's lips twitched but Jesse was sad to see that she didn't actually smile. Her eyes weren't as bright as they used to be either. It was incredibly upsetting to see that his best friend wasn't the ball of rambunctious energy. He almost preferred to see her angry over this desolate creature that had overtaken his best friend. At least when angry, her eyes glowed and she seemed alive.

"Leslie," Jesse started softly, and the girl looked at him, "why haven't you talked to your father about Bill?"

She didn't speak for a moment, and her hands twisted together lightly. Jesse waited patiently. He understood that it was a hard topic to even think about, much less discuss. He was rewarded a minute later when Leslie started talking.

"I just don't know how to start such a conversation. It's been three years since that whole event, and even now my father is hurt by Bill's death. I never thought it was the right time to say 'Hey dad, I'm sorry for acting like such a butt-kiss about Bill. Can you forgive me?'" Jesse heard Leslie talking, but something about her explanation didn't sit right with him. He felt as though it was a part of the reason she hadn't talked this over with her father, but this didn't feel like the heart of the matter.

Leslie looked over at Jesse, and their eyes met. She instantly knew that Jess didn't accept what she was saying as the complete truth.

"Leslie," he said, "In the short time that I've known you, you have never been a coward. You've never run away from the consequences of your actions. So why are you telling me half-truths now?"

Leslie flinched and she looked away. "Can we not talk about this anymore?"

Jesse studied the back of his best friend's head. He knew she was hurting. He knew that she felt guilty about her actions, but how could he help if she refused to tell him what he needed to do?

"Leslie," Jesse sighed, and the girl shivered.

"Jess, I just don't want you to think of me as a hypocrite. I talk about so many things, but I'm too chicken to go through it myself. I don't—I can't handle having my best friend hate me." Leslie turned to Jesse and bit her lip. "I feel so guilty about how I've treated you over the past week. I keep messing up! I get angry and hurt people that I care about, and my misery only makes my parents miserable. I'm such a useless kid. I should just go jump off a cliff and—"

"Leslie!" Jesse yelled, and she froze. He stared at her in absolute horror, "You don't really think that do you?"

Leslie wouldn't meet his eyes. "Leslie!" he snapped at her, "Please tell me that you don't think that your parents would be better off without you? You—" Jesse stopped, trying his best to bite back his own fear that swelled in his throat. It felt like his airway was blocked by a cork. He couldn't believe that his carefree Leslie thought that she would be better off dead.

"It was one mistake Leslie. Everyone makes mistakes. We hurt others without meaning to, and we do things that we end up regretting. That's a part of life. Remember? That little thing called life that you've been teaching me about since you came here. You change people Leslie," Jesse told her seriously, his eyes never wavering from her pretty green ones, "Your presence, your words—it's you. You affect people in ways that I've never imagined people could. You have this way of making people see life in a different way."

Jesse backed away from her, and closed his eyes. "I was a loner before you came around. I never had friends. No one ever noticed me, and I spent my life hiding in my drawing pads and on the track. Running was my escape. It allowed me to never face the fact that I hated being alone. I hated not having friends, and somewhere along the line, I started hating myself. Then you came into my life with all the grace of a cheesed-off bull."

Leslie's soft hand on his shoulder made him refocus his attention on her. "You changed my life, Leslie. You made me think of myself as something more than a loser. I can barely imagine what else you'll do to me when you stay longer." There was a thick silence between the two friends. Leslie had no idea what to say. She never knew that Jesse felt that way about her, and she knew that his life wasn't great, but she hadn't known it was that bad either. It seemed it may be worse than what he'd described if the closed off look on his face was anything to go by.

Jesse felt exposed. He was not at all comfortable with the turn in conversation. It was extremely disconcerting to let some of his deepest kept secrets out into the open to a girl who apparently had more problems with herself than he'd first thought. Leslie floundered for words, "I—uh, Jesse—" Unfortunately for the two, that pivotal moment was broken when a worried voice came from the other side of Cora Perry lane.

"Leslie, where are you?" Jesse vaguely recognized the voice, but Leslie's head snapped in the direction of her house. Squinting, the two could see the outline of a woman making her way towards the Aarons' residence.

"It's my mom," Leslie whispered, and Jesse looked at her sideways, "I should go. It's really late."

Jesse started for a moment. He looked down at his watch and was shocked to see it almost two o'clock in the morning. He stared at the blinking numbers for a moment, and only looked up to see Leslie hop out of the truck bed. He gazed behind her and spotted her mother coming closer, before he slid off the back of the truck and shut the tailgate.

They didn't speak, only stared at each other in silence. Jesse was happy to notice that it wasn't awkward, but incredibly intense. "Thank you, Jess." Leslie said, before wrapping her arms around him in a tight hug.

Jesse gladly returned it. "You're welcome, Les." He said before she let go. A peace settled between the two. He knew that they were nowhere near finished with this conversation. Leslie still hadn't explained everything, and Jesse hadn't either, but they both understood that they were still best friends and that those explanations would come at a time when they were both ready to reveal those secrets.

Leslie turned and walked to her mother, who stood watching from the bottom of the driveway. Jesse smiled a bit as Leslie latched onto her mother, and the woman looked surprised but happy. She ran her fingers through the soft blonde hair, that Jesse was becoming so acquainted with and laid a kiss on the top of Leslie's head. Never letting go of each other, the two walked home. Jesse only went inside when he saw the two disappear into their house.