A/N: I tried to follow the book as closely as possible, but there are a couple things that I mentioned that happened that may or may not have actually. Anyway, please enjoy:)
Disclaimer: I do not own The Sisterhood of the Travelling Pants.
Bailey determinedly pushed on the buttons of the Dragon Slayer game, attempting to blow the dragon into oblivion.
"Die, Dragon, die!" she murmured, and then with a heavy heart, realized what she had said. She dropped the game onto her lap; suddenly it had no meaning to her whatsoever. She heard the music sound that told that the main character had been killed by the dragon, but she paid it no mind.
Die. How could she say the word die, at a time like this? How could she say the word die when hundreds of people in the world, young and old, male and female, were at this very moment, gasping their last breaths? How could she have said the word die when she, herself, was at this very moment, struggling for her life in a hospital bed, slowly dying of leukemia?
Bailey turned her head, and tears seeped through her eyelids. She pressed them together tightly to try to quench the droplets, but they still managed to escape, leaving wet little trails down her pale, hallowed cheeks.
Bailey wasn't one to cry. She had come to accept her fate - that she had to make the most out of life. She had to live, to love, to do all the things that she possibly could while she still had the time.
Time. Time was something that scared Bailey. Sometimes, she wanted to freeze time at a particular place and make it last forever - being with Tibby, watching Brian make it to one more level on Dragon Slayer, for example. These were the moments she wished she could freeze - these were the moments she wanted to live in forever. Then there were the moments she wanted to speed time up - when Tibby talked about her Sisterhood, for example. Bailey wanted to shoot her own lifetime ahead for a good four years, to make her the same age as Tibby. Then, maybe she could be a part of the Sisterhood, too.
Mostly, however, Bailey feared not having enough time. Not having enough time to live life to the fullest, to be what she wanted to be, to do everything she desired to do ... to love everyone, and to see and show the beauty and uniqueness that every single person had to offer.
She had always urged Tibby to live and love unconditionally, to show that love, because you never knew when God would take you, or someone you loved, back, and then what? What are you going to do when the last chance for you to prove your love to the most important people in your life has gone by before you even knew what was happening?
Tibby didn't often speak of her love.
Bailey knew she cared about her family. Much as Tibby complained about her mother and father having another two children when Tibby herself was practically grown, much as she complained about the babysitting and the noise and the feeling that she got of being an experiment, Tibby loved her mother and father and sister and brother.
Tibby also loved the girls in the Sisterhood - Carmen, Lena, and Bridget. They were her best friends, and Bailey knew that she had missed them dearly that summer. Tibby hadn't exactly came out and said how much she loved them, but when she talked about how shy Lena was, how much of a go-getter Bridget was, or how hot-headed Carmen could get, Bailey could hear the adoration of them in her voice.
Lastly, Bailey knew that Tibby loved her. She had called her an annoying little child about a hundred times that summer, but regardless, Tibby loved her. She could tell by the way when, earlier that day, she had held Bailey's tiny hand as gently as though she were afraid that if she squeezed it too hard, she would shatter into a million miniscule pieces, like the shell of an egg. She could tell by the way Tibby's eyes had filled with tears at the sight of the IV tube dripping into Bailey's small vein, and the way she had bitten her lip and turned her head away to keep her tears at bay. And finally, she could tell from the way that Tibby had been about to leave. As she was exiting the door of the hospital room, she had turned and stopped.
"Bailey," she had said in a voice barely above a whisper. "I love you."
And then she had turned and fled.
Bailey had been in shock; once she got over the initial surprise of hearing Tibby even say the word love, however, Bailey wanted to run after her, and hug her, and tell her how good of a friend she had been that summer, and how much her friendship meant to her, and how much she was going to miss her.
But she realized that she didn't need to. She didn't need to tell Tibby these things, because Bailey had always expressed herself openly and honestly. Tibby knew.
As Bailey lid there, in the quiet of the hospital room, with just the low murmur of her father's heavy breathing as he sat in the chair by the window, sleeping, she realized that she had made a difference in the world.
She had gotten Tibby to openly express her love. Maybe now Tibby could continue Bailey's quest to show love and compassion for every single person she encountered. Maybe Tibby could continue where Bailey had left off. Maybe, one day, everyone would be able to love everyone else.
And that - that was something.