It feels like everything's ending at once. The time in Europe. The tour. The relationship with Nick. All of it is just going to be...over.

Miley didn't think she'd have such a hard time with it. It's not like she hasn't gone through this before. In fact, she's probably done this at least a dozen times. And she knew that it was coming. She had plenty of time to prepare herself.

Except it wasn't supposed to end like this. They were supposed to go back to L.A. together. Instead, she's going to New York. To an apartment that the label rented out for her. Fully furnished with all of her things being shipped over from the opposite side of the country. It should be a dream come true. She's worked hard to prove herself. That she's more than that girl who sleeps around. But she'd rather give it back. Give it all up to be with Nick.

They haven't really talked about it. Nick keeps bringing it up. Tells her to come on tour with him, anyway. That she doesn't have to leave. She shuts him out every time. There's no point in denying the inevitable. They're going to go their separate ways, and it'll all be over.

The day is just starting, though. Miley's already dressed and sneaking out of her room. She knows where Nick's room is. That he's still sleeping. That everyone in their right mind is still sleeping. That's why she has to do this now.

She ducks her head inside. After shutting the door behind her, she tip-toes through the suite until she gets to Nick's bedroom. Climbs on his bed in the dark and crawls over him.

Miley presses her mouth to his cheek. "Hey," she murmurs. "Wake up."

He grunts.

"N.J., come on." She kisses along his throat, feels him shudder in response. "Let's go."

Instead, he rolls over. Buries his face in the crook of his arm. "Sleeping," he croaks out, voice all husky and low.

"I know you're tired, but you can sleep later. We have to go now."

"No."

"Yes." Miley tugs the blankets down to his waist, only making him whine in protest. "Please? Can you please get up?"

His eyes blink up at her. Then, they flash over to the clock. "It's five in the morning."

"Yes, it is."

"It's our day off."

"Exactly." She reaches for his hands. Slowly, she pulls so that he's sitting up in front of her. "It's our last day off. I want to spend it with you."

"Okay. Let's spend it here."

"No." He tries to tug her down with him, but she fights him. Keeps them both upright. "I have the whole day planned. There's so much that I want to do. I want you to be there, too."

"But the sun's not even up yet."

"I know. We're going to watch the sunrise together."

And then, finally, he smiles. "Seriously?"

"Yes, but we're going to miss it if you don't get your ass out of bed."

Nick chuckles. "God, you're lucky I love you," he says, rubbing at his eyes. "I wouldn't do this for anyone else."

It's some fifteen minutes later that she has Nick up and moving. It's another five before she gets him out of the room. She refused to let him take a shower, saying that he only had time to brush his teeth and get dressed. He doesn't even get to put his shirt on right.

"Look at you," she says once the elevator doors close. "You're a mess. The buttons aren't even in the right holes."

"It was dark. I couldn't see."

"I let you put the bathroom light on."

"Okay, well, I'm tired."

Miley shoos his fingers away, knowing it'll take him triple the time to fix it himself. "I can't imagine why. You went to your room as soon as we got back from the show."

"Because you wouldn't let me in yours."

"Yeah, I...I know."

He sighs. "I miss it. Sleeping with you."

He doesn't have to explain any further, and she doesn't ask him to. She knows he's not referring to sex. Even though that was pretty spectacular. He's talking about the moments they spent curled up together. Having the familiarity of another body, knowing it just as well as you know your own. Feeling them so close as you drift off—

"You've told me," she says instead, eyes darting away. "I've heard it all already."

"I doubt you've heard it all when you barely let me finish what I want to say."

"When I know what you're going to tell me, there's no point in hearing it."

"I just don't get why you won't let me stay with you anymore."

"Let it go, N.J.."

"I will when you give me an answer."

"Stop," she snaps as the doors open to the lobby. "If you're going to throw a tantrum, go back upstairs."

"Fine."

Miley whirls around. "Really? You're really going back?"

"I'm not throwing a tantrum. I'm just trying to talk to you. If you're not willing to listen, I'll leave."

"Oh, so now you're blaming me?"

He shrugs. "You blamed me first."

She shakes her head. "Go, then. See if I give a fuck."

"All right." Nick reaches over, presses the button to his floor. "Enjoy the sunrise."

Miley stands there, stares at him until the doors close. Ugh. He is such an ass. Trying to ruin their last day in Europe when all she wanted was to make it memorable.

He's not going to take this from her. She refuses. So she walks in the opposite direction. Out the doors and onto the street. She's going to see the sunrise. Even if she has to do it on her own.

Not that she wants to.

She really, really doesn't want to.

Miley doesn't remember telling her feet turn her around, but they do. They carry her back to the hotel, through the lobby, and to the elevators. There isn't any hesitance when her finger presses the button to her floor. And she knows she's going to look like a complete fool. That he's going to be surprised to see her there. She doesn't care.

She wonders what she should say to him. If she should apologize. Sorry for yelling at you. Sorry for starting a fight. Sorry for pointing fingers. Sorry for walking away.

But that all changes when he's standing there. His back is to her, hands stuffed in his pockets. He turns around, though, when she steps closer. His big, brown eyes light up, all happy and over the moon ecstatic just at the sight of her.

"What took you so long?"

Miley blinks. "I thought you were going to your room?"

He grins, takes her hand. "I knew you'd come after me." Nick tugs on her fingers, leads her towards the elevators again. "We should hurry. We're going to miss the sunrise."

They don't, though. They make it just in time. Out in the middle of town, they catch the sun pierce through the horizon. Illuminating the world before their very eyes.

"It's crazy, isn't it?" he murmurs. "The things that we take for granted."

"Like the sun rising?"

"Mhm. I don't appreciate it enough."

She laughs. "You don't have to get all poetic now. Last time I checked, you finished up that album of yours."

"Doesn't mean that I can't improve it."

"You shouldn't."

"I shouldn't?"

"You can't." Miley pauses. "You can't improve it because it's perfect the way it is."

His hands frame her face as he pulls her in for a kiss. "You're perfect."

"N.J., don't start."

"You are, though." Nick presses his mouth to her temple, sighs soft. "I kind of wish the sun didn't rise today."

"I know," she says. "I know."

Miley moves her hands behind his neck. Pushes up on her toes so she can kiss his lips. His nose. His cheeks. All over his face until he starts giggling. And then he lifts her in the air, making her laugh.

It all feels so surreal. Like this can't be happening. Like this isn't her life. But it is. At least, it is for now.

Nick sets her back on the ground. "You okay?" he asks, rubbing her arm.

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine."

"Good." He ducks in to kiss her. "Love you."

She grins. "Say it again."

"Love you," he replies instantaneously. "I love you."

"Good." Then, she takes his hand, weaves her fingers between his. "Come on. We have a lot to do today."

What Miley failed to take into account is how there isn't much to do at six in the morning. So they walk. Take the scenic route. Try to enjoy every second they can until the gallery opens at nine.

Nick opens up a map, studies the floorplan. "I wish I understood French."

"J'aime le français."

And he has to do a double take at the sound of her voice. "Where did that come from?"

She shrugs. "It's not my first time here. I guess I picked up a few helpful phrases."

"Like what?"

"Like how to introduce myself. How to ask where the metro is…and the bathroom. And my personal favorite—Voulez-vous coucher avec moi."

Miley smirks as his skin flushes. "I know what that means."

"See? You do understand some French."

He rolls his eyes. "And why exactly was that one of the phrases that you needed to know?"

"In case I happened to come across a really hot French guy," she answers. "Or a really hot American guy in France."

"Right. I'm sure there are plenty of those."

"I can think of one in particular."

Again, Nick's skin is swallowed up in a blush. "But you've been making me sleep alone since London."

"Maybe I've had a change of heart."

"Or maybe you just can't resist me after all."

"Yeah," she says, smacking his shoulder, "you wish."

Laughing, Nick glances back down on the map. "So where are we heading first?"

Miley takes it from his hands and tosses it in the trash. "Let's wing it."

They walk through the graphic arts section. Study the printed pictures from hundreds of years ago. She can tell it isn't really capturing Nick's attention. Lauren's probably ruined all of this for him. But she appreciates him pretending like he cares for her sake.

Miley takes a couple of pictures once they reach the Decorative Arts display. It's all old French furniture, but it's still beautiful. "I should use these as inspiration for my new apartment."

Nick does his best to smile, but he's not fooling her this time either.

She can feel him lagging behind as they continue through. "Nicholas, let's go. We've got a few more exhibits to hit up."

"I'm coming. Just tired."

"Yes, I know. I should've let you sleep longer. Don't hold it against me forever."

"I'm not. I just—"

"Oh, look! They have statues over here."

She waits for Nick to catch up before guiding him towards the marble busts. After pouting and pleading, she gets him to pose next to them. And it makes her laugh as she captures a different expression with each click of the camera. It's like she'll be able to keep every part of him when she leaves.

She's scrolling through the photos when she realizes he's disappeared again. "Hey," she calls when she finds him sitting on a bench. "What are you doing?"

"Hmm?"

He won't even look at her. And, okay, maybe they are spending too much time here. She thought it'd be fun, but maybe it's getting boring now.

"Do you wanna go? I read there's an aquarium not that far away. Sound good?"

Nick bobs his head but keeps his gaze down. Mumbles something she can't understand.

Groaning, she reaches for his hand. "C'mon, diva, I'll help you—oh."

His skin is damp. He's sweating like he just ran a marathon instead of lazily walking along with her.

"Nick?" Miley moves to her knees. She takes his head in her hands, tries to get his attention. There's something up with his eyes, though. It's like he can't focus. "Nick, what's wrong?"

He opens his mouth like he wants to speak, but he can't get the words out. Can't get his thoughts in the right order.

Instead, Miley watches as his trembling fingers move for the hem of his shirt. Lift it just enough to expose his pump.

And then it clicks. It's his diabetes. Something about it is making him go into this state of pseudo shock.

"What do you need?" she asks, touching at the device. "I don't know how to work this. Do you need more insulin?"

He shakes his head and then winces. Pressing his palm hard against his temple.

"Nick, you have to help me. I don't know what to do. I don't know—"

But there's someone who does. And though she's reluctant to speak to Joe, she's willing to do anything for Nick.

"Please," she says, her voice cracking through the receiver. "Please, Joe, you have to help me."

"What were you thinking?"

It's been three hours. Three hours since Nick nearly passed out at the gallery. Since Joe told her to get some food into Nick's body. Since the ambulance showed up and brought them to the hospital.

Miley's been sitting alone. She was an anxious, nervous mess all this time as she waited to hear what was going on with Nick. But now his dad has come out of the room and made her his target.

She lowers her eyes. "We were just doing some sight seeing."

"Are you aware that my son has a serious disease?

"Yes. Yes, I know."

"And did you know that he has to be closely monitored? That a rise or drop of his blood sugar can have significant effects on his health?"

"I know."

"So why did you think it was a good idea to drag him around the city all morning without letting him eat anything?"

Miley bites at her lip. "I guess—I didn't think about—"

"Clearly, you weren't thinking," he hisses. "This could've ended up a lot worse. You realize that, don't you?"

"I know," she murmurs. "Trust me. I know."

"You have to be careful with him. You should know that, Miley. He was alone with you all the time during the first leg of the tour."

"But nothing like this ever happened when I was with him."

"You need to be prepared. Lauren carries his kit and a glucagon shot whenever she's with him. What did you have?"

Miley shakes her head. "Nothing."

"That's damn right," Kevin Sr. argues. "He shouldn't have even been with you. If he wanted to go out, he should've gotten Lauren."

"It wasn't his fault. I was the one who got him up."

"And why was that?"

"Because…because—"

"Because what?"

"Because I love him, okay? I love him."

And there it is. It's out in the open. Everything's out in the open.

His father steps back. "How can you—?"

"I didn't mean for…it wasn't my intention. I never thought that he—that we—but it just happened."

He swallows. "Go."

"Excuse me?"

"If this wasn't the last night, I'd arrange for you to get on the first flight back home. But we're leaving tomorrow. So you can go back to the hotel and stay there. And stay away from my son."

"But I—"

"This isn't up for discussion. There's no excuse for what you did. So get out."

"Can't I at least—?"

"Dad?"

They both turn towards Joe. She thought all along that he would be the one to destroy them. But he did just the opposite. And Miley's the only one to blame for everything else crashing down.

"He's been asking for her," Joe says quietly. "Maybe she can see him."

"There's no way—"

"Dad. It's for Nick."

His father crosses his arms, grumbles something under his breath. "You have two minutes. Then, you're gone."

She doesn't waste a second. She sprints over to the door. Miley whispers a quiet thank you to his brother before slipping into the room. To where Nick's laying in bed. His eyes are sunken in, and his hair is matted to the top of his head. The sight alone has her feeling nauseous.

She climbs into the chair beside his bed. Her gaze lands on his arm and the marks—the scars—littering his skin from the poking and prodding of needles. Reaching forward, she takes his hand in both of hers.

"Nick," she says. "Oh, N.J.."

Careful not to disturb his IV, she lifts his hand a little higher. She brings it to her lips, kissing his knuckles gently. He's always tried to be so strong and independent. The truth is he's just as fragile as everyone else.

He grunts. His eyelashes flutter, the dull brown of his eyes eventually finding their way to her. "Hey."

The sound of his voice alone already has her smiling. "Hi," Miley replies.

Nick grins back at her. "I'm fine. You don't have to worry about me."

"Sure. You almost passed out, and now you're in a hospital. But, sure, you're fine."

"I am," he says. "I actually set this all up on purpose so we could spend the whole day together."

"We were gonna do that anyway."

"But I bet the food here is fantastic."

Miley bites her lip. "Don't joke about this. It isn't funny."

"Sorry," he murmurs. "I promise I'm okay, though. Really."

She cups his face in her hand, runs her thumb over his cheek. "I was so scared. I didn't know what to do."

"Miley—"

"Nick, if something happened to you—"

"Shh," he soothes. "Don't talk like that." Nick stretches his arm out, reaching for her. "Come here. Let me hold you for a bit."

Sniffling, Miley climbs up on the bed. She curls into his side, drapes her legs over his hips. "I'm sorry."

"You don't have to apologize. It's my fault. I should've known better."

"But I should've let you eat something in the morning. I was so focused on getting you out of the room that I wasn't thinking."

"I wasn't, either," he answers, stroking her hair. "You're kind of a distraction."

She groans. "I knew this was my fault."

"It's not. You're the best kind of distraction, and you're on my mind all the time anyway." Nick presses his mouth to hers. "I love you."

Miley does her best to smile up at him. "N.J., Joe and…and your dad are outside. I had to tell him about us."

His face falls. "Why?"

"I had to tell him why we were together. And I knew he wasn't going to let me in to see you if I didn't tell him the truth."

"But he…you shouldn't have done that."

"I had to."

"No, Miley, you don't know him. Not like I do. I should've been the one to say something."

"It's already done. There's nothing we can do."

Nick huffs. "You shouldn't have done that," he repeats, turning his back to her. "You shouldn't have told him."

"Hey, don't be like this," she says. "Don't shut me out."

"Don't tell me what to do."

"I'm sorry." Miley leans over him. Presses kisses to his temple. "I tried to do what was best."

"But you didn't."

"Do you think I'd be in here with you otherwise?"

Nick sighs as her lips linger along his neck. "I'll talk to him. Smooth things over." He tilts his head to face her. "We'll be okay."

We won't, she wants to tell him. You probably won't see me again once I leave this room.

"We will," she says instead. "Everything's gonna work out."

He nods, his eyes suddenly going heavy. "I'm so happy you're here. So lucky to have you."

"Me too, N.J.. I don't know what I would've done without you."

"And I'll talk to my dad…."

"Okay."

He nestles closer to her. "Will you…?"

"Mhm," she hums. "Shh. Sleep now."

It's not long before he's dozing, his chest rising and falling in rhythmic breaths. And it's only then that she slips out of his hold and moves to her feet. Miley takes one last look at him. Hopes he'll be able to forgive her for leavings, for telling his dad, for everything.

Before him, she was selfish. All Miley ever thought of was herself. But now she just wants what's best for him. Because he's hers. Hers to guard and to protect and to love.

Wow, so it's been a really long time since I've updated this story. I lost inspiration for a while there. I'll be honest. And about a month ago, I felt like I was done with writing altogether. Then, I posted a random one-shot I had saved on my computer, and a few people commented about his story. That was kind of what I needed all along. So thanks to those of you who motivated me and reminded me why I started writing in the first place. And thanks for sticking with me after all this time.