Thank you for your reviews. I'm so thankful for those of you who have read this story, especially since it is an R5-type story on the A&A section. But here we are, on the final chapter. I know it's going to be a hard read, but I think you'll like the ending I have planned for our two quirky teenagers. :) Not much else to say, but it is something I really enjoyed writing from the moment I started it. CF is a disease while of course deadly, that not too many talk about. I am glad I was able to bring it some awareness, brought to you by Mr. Riker Lynch. And I hope if he's ever surfing the web looking for fanfiction ever again, he doesn't think I hate him with this one! Haha. Thanks again, hope you guys like the ending here. :)

Let me know what you think. Enjoy!

I never had to really fake anything in my life. I never had a problem with being honest with anyone about how I felt, or what was going on in my head. A month after our magical night at the hospital, I was doing just the opposite. Standing in the mirror of my house, I tried to fake a smile, tried to make myself look like I had slept last night. My hair, usually ravenous and all over was tucked into a neat ponytail, my make up about natural. I wore a simple black dress, a locket necklace, and a few bracelets up and down my arm. A couple weren't mine.

Then, my reflection gave way. It was no longer the reserved, stoic looking girl staring back at her. The girl dissolved into tears, the façade breaking. I sobbed into the mirror, unable to believe I had to do this. I woke this morning hoping the last few had been bad, nightmare-worthy dreams, and just what I said: nightmares.

No.

I had to take a deep breath, pretend my entire world wasn't shattered.

I turned away from the mirror and happened to look right out the window, into an empty room.

A knock on the door downstairs was the only thing keeping me from collapsing onto the ground that very moment, and I took a deep breath a second time, and tried to will myself to hold it together. I had to.

When I got there, I knew I probably ruined what little make up I had on, but it probably didn't matter. Without a second thought, I opened the door, shocked to see who it was on the other side. I thought it was going to be Rydel, or maybe Ellington asking if I was ready to leave. Instead, I was staring back into the eyes of who I once considered my best friend, the only person who I could tell anything to and not be judged for. That of course changed months ago, and I'd gained a total of three people in her place.

But her standing there then, in a dress similar to mine, her eyes glued on me, I felt myself completely unravel, unable to stop the sob that escaped my lips. She didn't waste time, taking that as her okay to come into the door. It slammed behind us and she ran to me, ushering me into her small frame while I cried. This was the first time I'd cried in front of anyone but that mirror and I never would've thought it would be with her.

For some reason, the anger I felt dissolved in those seconds. There was something reassuring about her familiar perfume, the smell of her oceany hair… just the little things I could always count on her for to remind me of her personality. The jingle of the charm bracelet she wore since we were only children that she'd gotten as a gift from me; it'd been absent on her wrist in the last few months. I always wondered why her arm looked funny in the hallway.

I continued to sob, unable to get myself together, but she didn't seem to mind.

Finally, she spoke, "I'm so, so sorry, Remy. I'm so sorry I wasn't there to be with you, either. I'm so sorry."

She blubbered her apologies for the next minute, for both me, and for what she'd done to our friendship. I'd never felt more comforted in those seconds, sans who I would need in my arms to change it all. A part of me wanted to remind myself she wouldn't probably be here if not for what happened, but maybe that was the change she needed to open her eyes. In all of it, at least she was here. I needed someone who wasn't falling apart for the same reason I was to stand by my side that day, and if I were to think of anyone who it could be, her name would still come to mind first.

Sometimes friends could separate for months, even years on end. But when they needed you, no matter how far, no matter what the fight; the true ones always came back to you. I remembered seeing that in books, but in the last few months I thought it couldn't be true. I was glad I was wrong.

"What time do you have to leave?"

I glanced at the clock as there was a second knock on the door. "Now," were the words I first spoke to Laura in how many months time. I glanced at her, then down at my dress. I was a disaster.

"It's okay," she assured me. "You're gonna do this. We're going to do this."

I smiled weakly at her, then got up off the floor. I knew who was on the other side of the door that time, and I didn't want my devastated features the first ones she saw. There were having a hard enough time as it was. I needed to be strong; I could be strong now that I had someone in my corner.

There was once a favorite of author of mine who described a terminally ill teenager's last days to include something along the lines of "good days" versus the not so great ones. I never understood what that really meant, until I was with Riker in the hospital. Because, there were many, many bad days to counter the good. But those few days in that month, the two or three that we got, were some of the best days of my life. You think you know someone, when you've been dating them for as long as I'd been dating Riker. I mean, I thought I knew him pretty well… and I did.

But when his parents left the room, and we were left alone, I got to know everything.

We'd talk for hours, curled up on his bed, our hands intertwined. He'd tell me stories of him as a child, before the disease started to take control of his daily life. Running through the sprinklers in the grass, with Rydel. Even from a young age though, it was only them. He was still the weird kid who coughed funny, so friends were hard to come by.

I was laughing at the adventures they had constantly; he was such a troublemaker. Rydel often got in trouble for the things he'd caused. One time, he broke a window trying to do a handstand. When his parents asked, Rydel took the blame. There were many stories like that one, and I loved hearing them all.

"I want us to have stories like that one day," I said softly. A part of me didn't want to believe what I knew he was thinking: we'd never get those days. A part of me still wanted to be an optimist. After all, how many times in the past did you hear of miracles? If anyone could be one, it would be Riker.

He smiled at me, "You would be the one getting in trouble. I wouldn't even have to fake it."

I gasped, pointing a finger at his nose. "Take that back, Mr. Lynch!"

"You know it's true."

I smiled back at him; he was right. I rolled over on the bed, grabbing my phone so that I could put on some Neon Trees in the background. They seemed to calm him most of the time, make him feel better.

"Where do you want to live?"

He closed his eyes, seemingly picturing it. "Not in LA; not so close to the city. I love California, maybe a little more north? I would love to have some land to explore, where it's just us and no one else around. It's kind of peaceful."

I didn't like LA all that much either. I wanted my warm weather, just not the chaos. Something like what Riker described sounded perfect. "What would we have as a pet?"

He laughed this time, "I love how you are thinking about pets."

"We won't have kids," I reminded him gently, hoping that didn't bother him too much. "I was thinking we could become a crazy animal couple. Cats are too mainstream, how about something weird? Like crazy sheep people, or maybe pigs? Pigs are so sweet and so smart!"

He raised an eyebrow.

"Don't look at me like that, and don't you even ask if we could make bacon out of them."

"Bacon is good," he defended.

I agreed, "Yeah, but not when we have pet pigs."

He hummed, "Maybe not. What else? What else do you want?"

"I don't know," I murmured. "I always dreamed of driving a beetle bug."

"A what?"

"Really?" I gasped. "Did you not call the Volkswagen cars that? Gosh, Riker. I'm judging you."

He snorted, "Okay, I got you. So… what color?"

"Pink," I teased. "Duh."

This went on for hours. We had mapped out every detail of our lives together, down to what color carpet would be in our room. This had been decided on a rare lunch outing to the back of the hospital where picnic tables and benches were set up. I couldn't help but feel like I was in the eye of the storm, especially when we re-entered the hospital a couple hours later to hear his parents and his doctors whispering to each other, giving us sideways glances.

That was his last 'good day'. The coming days became more and more painful and most of the time, I had to step out of the room before my tears came, because I couldn't let him see me upset. The nose tube became a full-fledge oxygen mask, which limited our conversations to begin with. Then, he was in more pain than he used to be, which meant stronger pain meds, which meant he was sleeping more. Those medications also made him drowsy when he was awake.

His parents were back to being around constantly.

I felt like I never had any time with him anymore. He'd still wake up and search the room for me, looking for my hand. I'd take it without a second thought, ignoring the way it gave me chills. He was so cold to the touch these days, his extremities tinged with blue.

It was like watching someone age fifty years in a week. His skin kept sinking further and further into his bones, making him look like he was malnourished. The coughing was like nothing I'd ever heard before, and it would wake him from his sleep. He was losing his hair, his voice… everything that he had any control over dissipated in the matter of seven days. I felt like I was losing a piece of me… slowly, someone was chipping it away.

Eventually, he slept almost the entire night and day. The doctors kept pumping antibiotics into his body, ravishing him of anything but them. Nothing worked. He continued to deteriorate. I couldn't stand to see it, but the other part of me would not leave the room. I had to be there for him, I promised I always would be.

The night he slipped into a coma, I nearly lost it in the parking lot.

Ellington was the one to calm me down.

I didn't eat the next few days. I kept hoping I'd walk back into that room and it would all be a dream. It just had to be a fucking dream. I couldn't bare to think that Riker was right almost two months ago in his room. He couldn't be. We had just planned our entire lives together.

I said goodbye to the love of my life three nights later, his cool hand in mine. I didn't know if he could hear me in those final moments, but I hoped that somehow, he did. I told him I loved him, how I would wait for him, and that one day, I knew we would be together.

It was all very cliché, but in those seconds, that was all that I wanted to say.

Because it was the truth.

Standing with Rydel at the cemetery sometime later, her on one side, Laura on the other, I could barely keep my focus. My knees were shaking, threatening to fall from beneath me at any given second. My vision blurred though I did not cry. I wanted it to be over. This was not how I wanted to remember Riker, face painted in a coffin while people I didn't know pretended they knew me. His family was one thing, but complete strangers was another. And the worst part of it all was that so many people from the school showed up, pretending that they were his friends. The thought alone made me sick. They probably couldn't even tell you his full name.

The ceremony was short, thankfully, as his parents were in the same boat as me and Rydel, from the looks of it. They quickly thanked everyone for showing up after it was over, and then took Rydel by the arm, leading her to a dark car. I didn't see her rest of the day.

By the time I got home, I was exhausted both physically and mentally. I couldn't fall asleep, as my bed was too empty.

There was a knock on my door.

I looked up to see Mark standing there. I sat up in bed, covering my body which was in one of Riker's old t-shirts and a pair of shorts. It was as close as I would be getting to him in the coming days.

"I have something for you," he said quietly, his voice almost gone. "I was supposed to give it to you at the funeral, but I didn't want to do it in front of everyone."

I sat up completely, and then got up to take the envelope from his hands. "It's from Riker," he stated, and I cringed at the name. It sounded so weird to hear from his voice. And it was even weirder that the man who despised me in the last few months was standing across from me now, looking around my room with curiosity. It was filled with pictures of Riker and I, as well as quotes and things that reminded me of my life and all that mattered to me. I wondered if this was what he expected when he walked in.

"Um," I started, not sure what to say. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," he answered, turning on his heel, only to pause. "Thank you for being there today."

"I would never have missed it," I said, wondering what he meant.

He nodded, "I know that, but I just… I just wanted to thank you. For being there… more than today. For never leaving his side." He closed his eyes. "It's more than could be said for many people of his past. I love he loved you and I'm sorry I didn't realize that for so long. Thank you for being a light in my son's life."

I bit down on my lip as he exited my room, looking back a final time.

"You're welcome," I murmured, hoping he heard me as he stepped down the stairs.

I waited until I heard my front door close before I tore open the letter.

Inside was only an address.

212 Fairview Lane

Fresno, California

Nothing else.

I called Laura, explaining what he'd given me. She was at my door five minutes.

"Are you ready?" she asked.

I blinked back at her, "For what?"

"We're going there."

"To the address?" I clarified.

She nodded, "He gave it to you for a reason. You have to follow it."

"I'm feeling more and more lately like I'm in some sort of John Green book," I muttered to myself, hating how that felt. With a sigh, I ran back up the stairs and put on a pair of pants, leaving the shirt he'd given me a while back on. And then, with my converse in hand, my phone, and a couple of necessities, we left the house, in the middle of the night.

By the time we arrived, the sun was starting to peek over the edge of the California sunrise. I glanced at my phone, telling Laura to make a right. "It says to turn here," I pointed.

She looked at me. "Are you sure? This road hardly looks used."

"That's what it says," I said. "I'm assuming the GPS is right."

She nodded and turned down the well-worn road, the pavement torn or cracked in many places. It was outside of the main city, in what started as a residential area, but now was looking more and more like the woods. I was starting to think that Riker was trying to get us murdered. "Where are we?" I murmured. I noticed the next direction told us to turn onto Fairview Lane. "What does he want from me here?"

Laura sighed, "I don't know, but if we pull up to a creek and a guy in the back of an old pick up truck tells me there is no more road, I'm out of here!"

"We're not in House of Wax, Laura," I replied calmly, trying not to laugh. Because that was how it felt.

She smiled easily at me, "Sure. You'd better hope I'm the surviving girl. I want to tell your story someday!"

"What?" I shrieked, throwing a crumbled up napkin at her. "Thanks!"

She smiled, "We can survive together… be a rarity in the horror genre. Two surviving girls."

I rolled my eyes, "I missed you."

"I missed you too," she said. "And I know I already said it, but I'm sorry. For everything."

I grinned, taking this in for a final time, "I told you he was a cardboard cut out and not a real human being."

Wes had dumped her two weeks ago for some blonde-bobble head with no personality just like himself. It only seemed fitting. Still, I could tell with how she looked at me the majority of the time, Laura still felt guilty. And while I was more than okay with mending our friendship, it was a little nice to see. She couldn't be completely off the hook, after all.

"Shh," she muttered. "God."

I giggled and she turned onto the road that led to this supposed address. When we pulled up, it just seemed like a normal house, with an ample amount of land… no car was in the drive way, nothing in the streets. I was feeling more and more like a horror story as she killed the engine and promptly hopped out. "Where are you going?" I called, my voice rising with fear.

"To look around," she said, staring at me. "Since when won't you?"

She had a point, and I got out of the car, joining her. "This is weird."

"I know."

"Are you sure the letter didn't say anything else?"

"That was it," I assured her, opening it just in case. That's when I noticed something stuck to the door handle, and rushed over to it. I was even more shocked when I saw my name on the envelope. I rushed back over to Laura and she stared at me with shock. "I don't understand."

"Open it!"

I did as I was told.

It said the following,

I know she knows, but won't you please, please?

If you see my girl, just tell her I miss her smile

Tell her I'm counting the minutes, gonna see her in a little while

Oh, oh, cause, I know when she holds onto me,

She's the one thing that I could never leave without

Oh, Oh, Oh, Oh,

Just tell her I love her.

I felt tears in my eyes as I tried to read the next part.

Until I can get there with you, here's the best thing that I can give you. There is something under the welcome mat, I hope you make the most of it. I love you, Riker.

I still didn't understand, until I looked down at the welcome mat and saw something was sticking out from beneath it. Only then did the tears that were welling under my lids spill over, and while Laura was staring at me like a crazy person, I knew exactly what he'd done before I even read it.

It was a pack of bacon.

Turns out, they won't give a kid with a terminal illness a pet pig. So, uh, here's a pack of bacon. P.S. Don't actually eat this… it's been sitting here for a while now.

P.S.S. If you haven't put it together yet, this is now your house.

(Well when you turn 18.)

Make the most of it.

"Bacon?"

I smiled, staring at the house fondly. It was only after I realized it just how perfect the home was, and how it literally was everything we talked about. "It's an inside joke," I murmured. "This is insane."

By the time we were done looking around (there was also a sticker of a pink beetle bug on the fridge inside), it was almost noon. Our parents were both freaking out, and we were told to come home ASAP. I was sure that Riker's parents could explain this to mine, since there was no way Riker did all of this himself when he was so sick. Actually, looking back, about a week before his death, his father had disappeared for almost the entire day, and I couldn't figure out why. Who would've thought Mark would do all of this for me?

I remembered him in the doorway, looking at me. Thank you for loving my son.

We had to leave, but as Laura went back to the car, I stopped and looked around a final time. It was absolutely insane that he'd somehow gotten me the house of my dreams, and a little sad that I'd have this house one day to live in… alone. I thought about it though; he knew I wanted to go to college not too far away from here; in fact, it was in traveling distance. Rydel planned on going here too. We'd have a home away from home. It would all be perfect.

I drove home with my best friend in a better mood than I'd been in days. I always thought my life in high school would play out about ordinary. I never expected to meet a guy who would and could change my life so drastically. The day I stormed out of my backyard and into my front, angry that someone had interrupted my book happened to become one of my best days of my life. I met someone, while only in my life for a short while, had made it a better, more loving place. Riker was everything and anything I could have dreamed of, and I knew one day, we would be together again.

My life was always about books; the characters in them; the story they told.

I had a story of my own to tell.

It was a story about a stubborn, quirky girl, and a boy with more to share than the world ever let him. She was crazy about him, he was afraid to fall. Together, they tangled their lives into one hell of a romance, never to be broken apart. A twisted, imperfect fairytale I couldn't wait to share.