"Goddammit, Hazel," Augustus held back a sob through gritted teeth. "C'mon, I'm the one supposed to be dying, not you. You can't do this right now, you have to stay here."

Hazel's eyes fluttered. She was exhausted, her lungs fighting in a war they knew very well they would not win. "Y-You," she breathed. It broke Augustus's heart to hear the feather light sound emerge from her. She'd been quiet all night long. And for some
reason—and he felt like a total jerk just for saying it—he liked it that way. He liked the quiet that settled over the room, only the beeping of the heart monitor to tell him that his dear Hazel Grace was alive and well. "You used to call me Hazel
Grace."

He ground his teeth harder and squeezed his eyes shut. A few tears let slip and they fell onto the back of Hazel's hand. Augustus had been there all night. Hazel's parents had called in late at around midnight and—despite his parents' best efforts to
force him to stay home and not spur on his own cancerous demise—he hopped in the car and drove. Sure, he might have gone through a red light or two, maybe broke the speed limit by thirty mph, but honestly, he didn't care at all. His Hazel Grace was
in the hospital. His Hazel Grace was dying.

"Well, Hazel Grace," He said softly, his voice shaking from the unshed tears and held in sobs in his chest that made him want to die right then and there because all of this was just too fucking hard, "did I ever tell you you're beautiful?"

And she nodded slightly. Ignoring the cannula and IV and other drips that Gus just didn't care too much about right now, she leaned over to kiss him, but only making it not halfway. So he crossed the distance to her instead. He kissed her gently, softly,
like it was the last kiss he'd ever give her. And while that may have been true, Augustus Waters was determined that there would be more kisses in the future—and hopefully more sex.

"Did I ever tell you that I love you?" She asked. Her voice was raspy and quiet. Her lungs must have felt like they'd ran a 5k marathon and were yelling at her 'Goddammit, Hazel, shut up so you actually live'. Or at least, that's what Gus felt
like saying.

He nodded and smiled. Ah, it always came down to this. The whole smile and nod where you know she's going to die and she herself knows it too. And no matter how ready she is to leave this godforsaken Indianapolis, he was going to be a selfish jerk and
hold her down and make her stay.

Hazel closed her eyes for a moment and Augustus accidentally knocked the bed. Accidentally being the operative word, of course. "Hey," He whispered, squeezing the frail delicate hand that she'd so lovingly placed in his. "No sleeping."

She opened her eyes, which by any means was a miracle in itself while in this condition, and managed to give a soft smile. How anyone could smile during a time like this, Gus would never understand. Though he knew that when his time came, he'd be doing
the same.

"Did I ever tell you that I love you?" Hazel asked again. Had Augustus clenched his teeth any harder, they'd fall right out of his mouth and onto the white tiled floor.

"Stop it."

She blinked and her smile faded. Getting sleepier and sleepier, feeling the air being sucked from her body, she took a small breath. Still, even that breath, which surely wouldn't have been enough for a person without lung cancer to sustain on, felt comforting.
Her hand slowly trailed to his cheek, her thumb rubbing the apple of his cheek. Oh god no. No, no this was not happening.

Abruptly, Augustus stood up, knocking the small and very uncomfortable white chair down beneath him. He staggered to the wall, his prosthetic getting harder and harder to handle every day. Tears stung his eyes and he wanted to let them all go but he refused.
No. He was going to be strong. He was going to be strong enough for him and her and her family. At least he would if he didn't start sobbing.

It was a painful sound. He had the oddest cry anyone had ever heard but it was an Augustus Cry and Hazel had learned to love it. Amidst the soft and low sobs of the man she loved, she reached out and managed to say his name. It was soft but he could hear
it.

"Don't," he cried, wiping his eyes frantically with his sleeves. "Don't do that. Don't do that sick kid thing where you pretend to be strong and hopeful. Don't pretend to be ready to leave this fucking godforsaken planet, Hazel Grace, no not you! You're
stronger than this and you can get through this! I'm the one supposed to be dying here, not you. You still have to write an epilogue to An Imperial Affliction and when you do, you're going to wipe Peter Van Houten's ass with it because it'll
be better than anything he ever wrote." He took a deep breath and felt pretty bad for it afterwards. Here he is, yelling and splurting out useless, hopeless crap and taking deep, deep breaths in front of a girl whose lungs are officially chickenshit
in her chest. He stopped and leaned against the wall, his palm flat against it with his forehead accompanying it.

"No, not you, Hazel Grace." His voice was soft, it almost sounded happy. It almost sounded like the real Augustus Waters. "You can't die. Not this day. Not right now, not right here." His balled up fist hit the wall with every word. He was instantly happy
that they had a private room and on the end so the neighbors didn't have a chance to complain. "You can't leave this earth, you haven't done so many things yet." He looked up and his amazing eyes, the ones that had thought Caroline Mathers was still
walking in front of his despite her cancerous death the months before, were watered with tears.

And so were Hazel's. He should've stopped, should've sat down and helped her through this, said his goodbyes. Said how he'd see her soon when he finally bites it. And when they're together in that other third place—neither heaven nor hell but someplace
in between—they'll run around Funky Bones and have bottled stars under the actual stars and it'll be like nothing ever stopped. They'd continue to talk about An Imperial Affliction, if Anna's mom actually married the Dutch Tulip Man,
what happened to Sysiphus the Hamster. They'd talk like nothing was ever wrong. Like they'd never been side effects of cancer. Though really, they were just side effects of life.

"You wrote me a eulogy didn't you?" She asked. Her eyes flicked between him and the seat next to her bed. He nodded once and sat down, wincing as the tumors acted up again. C'mon tumors, work faster, goddammit! He pulled a sheet of paper from
between two pages in their shared love, An Imperial Affliction. He cleared his throat.

"Hazel Grace." His hands shook as he read it—perhaps from the cancer, perhaps from trying so hard not to cry and so hard not to plead for her to stay with them, to stay with him because he knew it wouldn't do anything and she'd still die and he'd
be alone just like always…most likely the latter. She lay a hand on his fake leg and smiled a tired, sad smile. He took her hand in one of his and squeezed it softly before continuing.

"'Hazel Grace. Well, she wasn't really Hazel Grace, right? Just Hazel. But for the moment, for me, she'll be Hazel Grace. I'll tell you something. When I first saw her, I thought my old dead girlfriend was walking amongst the living. Then I realized she
wasn't. I'll tell you another something: I was so fucking relieved—"

Hazel gave him a small head shake of disapproval but smiled all the same. He rolled his eyes and nodded. Why yes, yes he had cursed in her eulogy.

"—not because my dead girlfriend wasn't back to haunt me. Though that would be very, very awkward considering she died… But I was relieved because now there was this girl. This beautiful, amazing, talented girl that I just had to meet. Yes, even before
I met her, I knew she was beautiful, amazing, and talented. Our whole relationship was a love story. An awkward sappy love story. And at the moment, it's kind of too painful to even talk about, considering I may not even be here to give his eulogy
in which case, I'll hand it to my very good friend Isaac. But he's blind so he may then have to hand it to someone else. The fact of the matter is, Hazel Grace was, no, is the love of my life. I'm not going to be one of those eulogy givers
that say that they had a good life and they will always be remembered.

Yes she will definitely be remembered, especially by those who knew her like we did. But to be honest, and I know she'd agree, her life was kind of…crappy. Starting from the point she was diagnosed. All she wanted was to be a normal teenager. But from
that moment on, what was normal? All she and I and Isaac and all those other kids in the Literal Heart of Jesus knew was IVs and ICUs and ERs and knew prognoses and just, everything medical. So that became normal.

But after a while, things started to become different. Things changed, people changed, and we started to accept that this was the new normal. And we made the best of it. Believe me, she made the very best of it. And I wish that she was still here, still
reading me poetry when I'm too lazy to look at the book myself, still playing Counterinsurgence with me just to die five minutes into the game and I would have to be heroic and save her sorry ass. I wish she was still here to tell me she loves me.
But life isn't a wish granting factory. And my beautiful Hazel Grace is gone.

Once she told me that we were just side effects. Side effects of cancer. Side effects of ourselves. Because now, cancer was all we were. But I've come to realize that we're, and I mean everyone one of us in the world, sick and not sick, are just side
effects of life. And needless to say, Hazel Grace is by far the best side effect I have ever encountered and my absolute favorite. I love you, Hazel Grace."

Hazel took a shallow breath when Gus looked up at her, tears rimming his eyes. His voice shook the whole time but he didn't cry. No matter how much he wanted to. He waited for her to say something. Was it stupid? It was completely stupid. "That…was one….longass
eulogy," she managed to say between shallow, water gurgled breaths.

He laughed softly and nodded, now letting the tears go. He leaned over and kissed her. This was it. This was the end. "Remember…without pain…there is no joy…" she whispered, her thumb still running over his cheek comfortingly.

He shook his head and let out a deep breath. "No, Hazel Grace. Without joy, there is only pain." She didn't respond, just closed her eyes for a few seconds, taking short, shallow breaths. "Are you tired?" He asked, hearing his voice tremble more than
it had all night. She nodded and he let out a small sob. "Okay."

"Okay?"

"Okay."

After a few hours of quiet shallow breathing and heart monitor beeping and the water droplets of the morphine drip, she was gone. His favorite side effect had faded and he was left alone. Silently, he leaned down to kiss her forehead. "It was an honor
to have my heart broken by you. I love you. Farewell, Hazel Grace."