Dear Augustus,

Peter van Houten came to your funeral. Weird, right? Although, I guess you expected it. I guess you knew he'd come. He tried to tell me what happens after AIA ends. He tried really hard, too. But he's not the same man that wrote it, and the rest of their stories are lost with him. Shame.

I've been going to support group regularly. Your name is on the long list of the dead that Patrick reads. I know because I listen. Every time. I listen and I hear your name along with the others that have gone and it kills me, bit by bit. Soon there will be nothing left.

Isaac is good. I've been spending a lot of time with him, playing Deception. We save the civilian every goddamn time. Even if it means losing. We lose for you.

Your parents finally disabled your cell yesterday. I know because when I called it, I didn't hear your voice at the end. I just heard a robot lady, and that damn near killed me too.

The world is not a wish-granting factory.

Okay.

I'm gonna need that eulogy you wrote me. My tumors are growing. The Phalanxifor stopped working, and there's nothing anyone can do. I'm becoming my cancer. My lungs keep failing on me. Soon, I will take that last car ride to the hospital. The hospital where I will be for the rest of my life. How depressing.

Your life wasn't lived for nothing, Augustus, because it made mine better. Maybe that's a small deed, but in my world, it's a huge one. Some infinities are bigger than others, and we sure as hell got short ones, but they're infinities all the same. You showed me that.

I'll be seeing you soon, Augustus, in capital-S Somewhere.

Yrs,

Hazel Grace.


A/N: So I came up with the idea for this this morning, and I couldn't not write it. As John said, books belong to their readers, and this is what happens at the end of my TFiOS.