So sorry for the delay. Let's get to it.

Chapter 20

It's time.

"Just go away, Uncle Aro. You don't need to baby me," I say it harshly, and immediately regret it. He's all I have, and if he left me, I don't know what I would do.

I fight the care he gives me, the love he shows me. I fight him in general, despite feeling so empty and alone all the time as I barely live in the newly repainted cottage, made up especially for me.

The poor kid who lost his parents. The poor kid who has cancer on top of that. The poor kid who had a panic attack when they told him he could finally leave the hospital, and couldn't imagine living in his house, empty and filled with still-fresh memories and endless despair.

"You're not getting rid of me that fast, no matter how mean you are." His voice is light but strained. I know this is taking a toll on him; Leaving his job, the city … all to care for a teenager who doesn't appreciate him. He's mourning a loss as well, his only sister and brother-in-law. I need to be nicer, know I have to be, should be, but can't muster the energy.

I don't feel like being nice.

I don't feel like being at all.

The TV is set to whatever movie channel Uncle Aro put on, and he's dutifully trying to get me to eat something. Everything tastes terrible. Even when I start feeling a little hungry, and have a thought as to what I'd like, it tastes gross once I try it. The nurses tell me I need to gain weight, start building muscle again.

I laugh at that. What am I supposed to do? Have my emaciated upper body lift weights? Go cycling with my too-skinny-for-my-height-and-age legs? I think of the expensive bike in the garage that matches my father's. A fourteenth birthday gift for me. All the time we spent riding together. I can't even fathom getting on that thing now. Besides the illness, the memories stop me.

Will I ever enjoy anything again? How can I? My parents are gone. They're gone. They aren't coming back. They were brutally taken from me while I got left behind. What is the point of me being here? Gone are the days of early morning fishing on the boat before Dad goes to the restaurant. Gone are the days of making fun of Mom doing her puzzles and begging me to sit and help. I would always protest and roll my eyes, but I secretly enjoyed it.

Gone are the days of me being protected.

Safe.

Loved.

I would give anything to do a puzzle with her now.

I lie awake at night in my bed or on the couch, surrounded by hurried decor that someone threw together to make this place feel like a home. There's nothing personal here. All my stuff is in the house, exactly where I requested it be left. I even made Uncle Aro take down the few family pictures they put on the shelves in here thinking they'd cheer me up.

The overwhelming depression lies with me in the room like a blanket, heavy and claustrophobic.

I revel in it. Feed off it. Don't want to change it. I can't explain to anyone that it's the only thing keeping me together. It's a feeling that replaces my most invasive thought – the uncertainty and bone-chilling endless road of fear. Fear of how I'm supposed to take care of myself. Fear of what I'm supposed to do now. Fear of being alone. Forever.

As they do most nights, thoughts turn to alternatives. Uncle Aro would be sad if I were gone, if the illness or… some other method took my life. But eventually he'd realize he had his life back, and he'd be happy going back to the paper and all the things he loves in the city.

Alice might cry, despite how I've treated her lately, but Jasper would help her. They'd forget about me in no time.

I would be doing them all a favor, wouldn't I?

And me.

Me.

I would be doing myself the biggest favor. No more needles, no more treatments, no more waiting for blood platelets and my hair to grow. No more pain, no more worrying.

No more devastating sorrow and grief.

No more… anything.

I'm woken by my Uncle's always cheerful voice, an act he puts on just for me. I'm on the couch again, the TV is still on, and the bowl I threw up the poisons in last night has been cleaned and replaced.

"Just let me sleep," I say and roll over, feeling my heart beating too fast through my paper skin for such a small activity.

"No. Today you are going to make an effort. There's someone here that wants to meet you."

The idea of seeing anyone, especially someone I don't know appalls me. How could he think I would want company? He knows I've been avoiding Alice, as much as it hurts me. Maybe she finally broke him down and she's here, despite my wishes. Maybe that's not a bad thing.

But then I think of my long-gone hair, my sunken eyes, my brittle skin, and know I don't want to haunt her with my appearance. Don't want that to be the last images she has of me.

"Go away, Alice," I say, my mouth pressed into the cushions.

"It's not Alice."

"Well then whoever it is, I'm sorry, but I'm not in the mood for company today."

Suddenly, there's something pressing on my side. A soft wisp of air crosses my stomach, and something is pulling my shirt up. Something furry. With claws.

I turn my head sharply and see a brown dog staring at me. It's not even a dog, it's a tiny puppy. With a smooshed face and big eyes. He's staring at me and I swear he gives me a smile with his tongue out.

"What the fuck is this?" I ask, but roll over, so the puppy is lying on my stomach.

"Meet your new best friend," Aro says. "You need to look after him, feed him, take him on walks. He's your responsibility."

"I don't want any responsibility," I growl. "You know I can't do those things. I don't want a best friend." I start to push the puppy away, but he climbs back to where he was.

"You can, and you will. It's time you stop feeling sorry for yourself, Edward." When I glare at him and his tough-love bullshit, he sighs and takes a seat at my feet on the couch. "I love you Edward, and it's killing me to see you like this. You're almost at your last treatment, it's now time to start moving on from this. You are not dead."

His words pierce my heart and make me suck in a sharp breath.

His hand covers my knee, while his other strokes the puppy on the back. "Life sucks. It sucks big time for you right now, and I know that. No one is more aware of how shitty this year has been for you. But you need to live, Edward. For me, for you, for the memory of your parents, for your friends, and now, for this guy."

His words sting, settling heavy in my chest with guilt. It's like he's reading my mind of all the thoughts I've had of not wanting to be here anymore. I look at him, his face drawn and gaunt from stress, but still loving. Kind. Hopeful.

Hopeful for me.

I stare at the puppy and tentatively touch my pointer to his paw. It's kind of cute I guess. "What is it?"

"It's a pug. A boy."

"What's his name?"

"You have to figure that out."

I'm silent as I look at him, all fuzzy and small. I can't take care of him, not properly. I'm about to say it again, more determined this time, when the puppy crawls up my chest and lays his head in the crook of my neck. He smells like nothing I've smelled before. It's not bad, I assume it's what dogs smell like. His fur is soft, his nails are scratchy. "What if I can't?" I say quietly.

"Why couldn't you?"

"I… can't take long walks. I don't have the strength to pick him up if he needs it."

"Good thing he is a little guy and while he grows, you get stronger. Small walks for you will feel like marathons to him. You'll grow strong together."

Thunder wakes me up and I lie in bed, staring at the dark ceiling. Aro turned off my TV sometime in the night. He tells me it's not good for my sleep to keep it on, but it comforts me, the noise is a friend.

There's a shuffling next to me and I realize he's put the puppy in bed with me. I'm sort of mad about it. He made me take him out after dinner and I had to walk after him, bending over to pick up poop. Aro just laughed at my complaints saying it was nice to see me taking care of someone else's bodily functions like I've had other people do for me. That earned him a nice middle finger.

I don't know what I'm going to do with this thing. Terror crawls up my spine. Is Aro leaving? Is this why he gave it to me? Is he leaving me to an empty house and an empty life? No, no. He said he wasn't leaving yet. He can't leave yet.

But he will, someday. Someday soon.

For the hundredth time, I let myself cry. Let myself mourn in the darkness for all I've lost. Let myself wallow in self-pity and sadness. I let it crawl over me like a second skin and enjoy the heavy feeling of just feeling without having to put on an act. In the shadows, I can be vulnerable. I can be scared.

The puppy picks its head up to see what all the noise is. He shuffles closer and lays his head on my bony rib cage. He scootches up a little more and settles on my concave chest until his face is flush to my face.

He reaches out his little puppy tongue and licks a tear.

It's a comfort I didn't know I needed, didn't know existed. He's looking at me and I raise a slow hand to softly pet his head. He looks at me like he's waiting for something. Waiting for me. The repetitive motion of touching his head is soothing. I start to tell him what I'm feeling, cause he's just a dog and he won't be able to tell anyone or understand.

But I think he does understand.

I cry harder, and the puppy wedges himself up under my chin and just breathes next to my ear while I cry myself out. He doesn't leave that spot.

He stays by my side that night.

And the night after that.

And the months after that.

He stays through all of my emotions as I try to reclaim any semblance of life again. He's there through pitiful temper tantrums when I want to give up, bouts of self-loathing when I hate the way this disease and the deaths of my parents have changed me, and he's there through the endless depressing hours watching the only movie that gives me comfort, The Godfather.

He stays.

My best friend, after all.

My Joey.

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He holds me to him so gently but so strong, and I know I'm protected. The wind whips around the car and it feels nice even though I don't feel so good. He's sad again, looking at me. I haven't seen him sad in a long time.

I love him so much. I've loved him a long time.

Right from the beginning.

I liked it when we played outside. The grass was soft on my tummy, and he threw a ball and I ran and caught it and it made him laugh.

I liked it when he laughed. When I first met him, he was sad. He would cry, and I would be scared. I'd lay next to him in the dark and just hope he knew I was there and that I loved him. I loved him right away because he was gentle and gave me good scratches on my tummy. I would try to make sure he knew by pressing up against him and looking at him.

We would watch that bright box with the people in it all night long and he'd stroke my fur and play with my ears. He would talk to me and I'd try to make him happy. The best times were when he would hug me to him and put his face against my head. We would lay like that until I got sleepy. I felt so safe in his arms. I'd wake up a few times to see what he was doing. I wanted to make sure he was sleepy, too.

He smelled funny then. Sour. I loved him anyway.

He got happier and happier as every day went by. He got stronger and so did I! I grew and he got hair and his skin felt softer and he smelled nice. My favorite smell was him.

One day we left the house and started to go on adventures and see lots of people and ride in the car. I liked the wind on my face. Sometimes we would go on the motor bike and he would make me wear glasses to protect my eyes. I would look up to see if he was smiling.

He was smiling. I was smiling too.

He took me a lot to the place that smelled like food all the time. I would try to get down to the floor so I could eat stuff, but he wouldn't let me. He told me it's not good for me, but I snuck some when I could. And people there gave me treats when he wasn't looking. I've eaten lots of things. I liked cheese the best.

He was so happy there. He laughed and talked to people and he didn't say he was lonely anymore when we lay in his bed. He only cried a few times, when he would look at pictures of the people that looked like him. I would press myself up against him even harder on those nights.

We'd sit outside at night a lot and eat food together. Sometimes people came by and they were loud, but he always made sure I was safe. Sometimes I would go inside to lie down, but he always checked on me. He'd pet me and kissed me and I looked at him with all the love I could so he'd know he was my best friend.

We've seen a lot of things! He took me everywhere and I loved the attention I got from all the people. I loved the sand and the water, even though I was scared at first. He helped me not be scared. Every day was something new for me to explore and we'd do it together.

We have done so many wonderful things together. But he's my favorite thing and he tells me I am his. I loved to go out and see stuff and play in the yard, but I liked to sit with him, too, as he stroked my fur and talked to me about all sorts of stuff at the end of the day.

Now, I feel older.

Things hurt. I can't see too well in the dark. I can't run anymore so he carries me. I like being carried. I like the wheel thing he puts me in too, but I like being held by him the most. I feel safe and loved. He tells me all the time he loves me, but I like to feel it, too.

I don't want to leave him. But I know he will be okay. He's got that lady and she's nice. She will go on adventures with him, but he will never forget me. I know that because he is always telling me, and I believe him.

He loves me, and I love him.

His face is close to mine so I can see him. He's crying again, but it's not because he's sick and lonely. He's crying because I'm sick this time. I'm in his arms which is my favorite place. We cuddle, and I rub my face into his arm. That makes him smile. He gives me the most wonderful thing I've ever eaten. I know it tastes like peanut butter, but there is a new taste. It's sweet and I love it.

I'm looking at him and he's watching me eat the treat as he strokes my head and ears. He kisses my head, and I feel a pinch on my front leg. He puts a blanket on us and we sit. I'm sleepy but keep looking at him.

Don't be sad, Edward. I think soon I might not be here anymore, I'm very tired. But I will always be with you. Forever.

You gave me a beautiful life.

We had a beautiful life.

Thanks to my girls for getting this one out to you so quickly.

This is for Squiggy.