"Katie?"

Katie turned her head almost imperceptibly in Alicia's direction, but her gaze remained locked on something outside the window.

Alicia hesitated. Then, taking a deep breath, she said slowly, "Fred told me to give you this, after…" She faltered, unable to finish her sentence. She thrust the small package towards her friend.

Katie didn't move, just kept staring out the window. The silence was almost deafening in its prominence. It was just…there.

"You see that cloud?" Katie asked suddenly, so quiet and soft, but so sudden in the middle of the painful silence that it reminded Alicia of a still, placid lake, suddenly disturbed by a fish jumping out of the water. "That grayish one, just there?"

Alicia peered out the window, straining her eyes, but it became increasingly clear that she was studying the window to see something that wasn't there.

Before she could say this out loud, however, Katie answered her own question. "Of course you can't. It disappeared. It was just there, though. Just there, below that bigger one. A lingering puff of smoke that hadn't quite left. Only now it has."

Truthfully, Alicia was a bit worried that Katie was staring at clouds that didn't actually exist. But really, she just wanted her to be alright. "Uh, here," she said, trying to give Katie the package again, wishing she didn't have to hold it. Even though she had no idea what was in it, Alicia felt like she was intruding just by touching it. Like it was something special between Katie and Fred, and she shouldn't be holding it.

At this Katie turned, and Alicia saw that her eyes were puffy and red. This shocked Alicia more than anything else Katie could have done, although it probably shouldn't have. It was perfectly logical to cry when you wouldn't see your boyfriend for months. But Katie never cried. Not in front of anyone at least. Alicia had always been sort of in awe of Katie's strength. She had envied her independence and her willpower.

She had watched Katie hear the news that her parents had died, and she hadn't even sniffled. But when Alicia thought harder, she remembered that she hadn't seen Katie for three hours after that.

As if reading Alicia's thoughts, Katie spoke, slowly but evenly, no trace of sadness in her voice, though her eyes told a different story. "You don't have to be unbreakable," she told Alicia, "if you can act like it."

Alicia had a sudden urge to throw her arms around her tiny companion. She wanted to tell her everything was going to be okay, that she didn't have to put on an act anymore. But she couldn't.

Something stopped Alicia from trying to comfort Katie. It was selfish, really, but Alicia couldn't bring herself to tell Katie it would be okay, because she herself had never felt pain equal to Katie's. She had never lost anyone close to her, and she had never had love to lose. She couldn't bring herself to touch Katie, because she was afraid sadness was contagious.

"Will you open it for me?" Katie's request was sudden and unexpected. It caught Alicia off guard, and it took her a moment to remember the tiny package she held in her hands.

"M-me?" Alicia stammered. "I don't know if I…"

"Please?"

The same urge to hold her friend in her arms washed over Alicia again, and this time it was too strong for a selfish feeling of self-preservation to stop her. She threw her arms around Katie, willing all her pain to go away, trying to protect her friend with her body.

And then, somehow, Alicia was sobbing. Bawling for her friend, crying because she wasn't strong enough to help Katie when she needed it most. Katie was crying too, but not in the same way. While Alicia was suddenly overcome with loud sobs, Katie shrank inside of her friend's warm embrace, curling into a ball and allowing herself to be held as silent tears slipped down her cheeks, slid off her chin, and hit the floor, disappearing into the wooden floorboards.

Alicia didn't know how long it was before she realized she was holding onto thin air. For a moment she was frightened. Images of Katie simply falling apart and melting into the floor flashed through her mind, before she opened her eyes and saw that Katie hadn't disappeared, but instead had somehow managed to slip, quietly and carefully, through Alicia's arms, and was sitting next to her on the window seat, again staring at that same unseen cloud, as if nothing had happened.

Alicia wanted to say something, but she could see that there was nothing more she could do for Katie. Out of her own selfishness, she set the package carefully next to Katie's thigh, praying Katie wouldn't ask her to open it again. That was something that, for some reason, she just couldn't do.

But Katie, although terrified of what she would find beneath hurriedly wrapped brown parchment, was too nice to try and stop Alicia. Because she knew that her friend would have done it, had she asked.

Katie knew the cloud wasn't there. It had disappeared, shortly after he had. But for a short time, the smoke had lingered in the air, something for Katie to hold on to, something for her to see, even if only for a moment longer. And in that moment, she had a little piece of Fred left. She couldn't let that cloud of smoke go, even if it had already gone.

Slowly and deliberately, without taking her eyes off the spot where the cloud had been, Katie slid her hand across the window seat until it touched the cool paper of the package. Holding her breath, she tore the paper carefully, still not looking at the spot where her hand was, as if looking at it would make it disappear.

The paper came off easily in her hand, and Katie jerked her hand away as if the small object had burned her. She didn't notice, of course, that there was a letter on top of it, and the swift motion was enough to knock it off the seat and under the couch.

Allowing her fingers to brush against the small item Fred had left her, Katie could tell almost what it was, and she couldn't for the life of her figure out why Fred would give her a Rememberall. Picking it up, however, she saw that it wasn't a Rememberall at all, but a small globe, with two miniature people in it.

The people were standing near a lake. They were so tiny Katie couldn't make out their features, but she would have known that shade of red hear anywhere.

Katie's mouth fell open in awe as tiny clouds formed above the two figures, and little raindrops began to pour onto them. As you should have figured out, the they did not run from the rain, and Katie knew this, but she was still filled with happiness as she watched the tiny people embrace. Without warning, the clouds dissolved, and the cycle started over again.

Katie felt tears welling up in her eyes, and she realized that she had finally let her eyes leave the spot in the sky where her little bit of smoke had been. Her gaze darted across the sky desperately, but she couldn't find it again.

Clutching her tiny glass ball to her heart, Katie doubled over again, but she did not cry. She had her little piece of Fred, and it wasn't a bit of elusive smoke. It was something she could hold in her hands, something she could feel and touch, and press against her heart.

Katie watched in awe as the tiny people in her globe kissed again. And again. And again. She sighed each time the clouds disappeared and they broke apart, but the tiny couple were never far apart. They lived in the moment. The exact same moment, over and over and over again.

*****

Leysa, I hope you read this chapter. You reviewed anonymously, so I couldn't reply, but I wanted you to know that your review made my day, and I wanted to say I'm really glad you think so highly of my story. I also wanted you to know that your review alone was enough to make me want to make this a full story. I hope this chapter is as good as the first one!