The ride home was filled with talk of the past few months. Despite the fact that we had conversed over the phone almost every day, James' visits had become less and less frequent with the passing weeks at the hospital. It was understandable, with school starting, but I craved information about life at home; anything to pass the time. I must have asked a million questions, mostly directed at my brother. I wanted to know how he was doing, if he had made any new friends, and if his classes had started off on the right foot. Luckily, I received mostly positive feedback. Harrison seemed to be doing well, given our circumstances, and I felt myself breathe a sigh of relief.

That was one less thing I would have to worry about.

James must have noticed my silence, because I heard him vaguely tell my brother it was time to give me a rest. I felt myself dozing off before I knew it, with my head against the window, watching the other cars speed by and the city lights flicker.

We must have arrived at my house sometime around ten thirty. I felt a hand gently shake my shoulder, followed by a voice that seemed to be coming from far away.

"Saph? Sapphire? We're home. Come on, I'll help you inside."

I only groaned in response and curled up tighter against the side of our car.

"Nooo..." I muttered.

I heard a sigh. "Fine then." Right after I heard him, I felt a pair of arms begins to wrap themselves under my knees and back to carry me. I woke right up.

"Wait, James-"

He stopped. "It's fine... I can walk."

My friend looked almost disappointed. I reached up to ruffle his hair. "Thank you, though." He nodded at me and instead offered his hand to help me out of the car. This I accepted with a weak smile, and hopped onto the parking garage floor. I made my way to our apartment, only two blocks away with James trailing behind me in silence. Within minutes we were in the elevator leading to the fifth floor. As the doors slid open, I walked out and down to hall. Reaching for the door handle, I took a deep breath and swung the door open. A bright green banner hung across the foyer wall with big painted letters that read "welcome home, Sapphire" in all capital letters.

Harry stepped in front of me as I stood staring at the decoration, speechless. I felt his tiny arms wrap around me.

"I missed you, Sapphy," he muttered into my shirt.

I didn't know what to say. Instead, I found myself holding him back, and responded, "I missed you too, Harry."

A minute later, I heard James clear his throat and I broke away from my brother.

"Come on," I smiled at him, "let's go inside."

He nodded and took my hand in his.

As I walked through the door, the smell of home hit me. I gasped. The memories my home held bittersweet memories for me, and I felt a strong pang in my chest as I made my way over to our family room. Our house was pretty big, for an apartment. We lived on the fifth floor, and had been living there for seven years. I let my gaze drift listlessly around the room, finally settling on a picture of our family we had taken together during Christmas. Unable to tear my eyes from it, I picked it up and walked backwards until I was sure I had my back inches away from our couch. The back of my legs bumped into the ottoman, and I allowed myself to fall into the soft, fuzzy cushions that smelled like home. I didn't know how long I stared at the picture before another body clambered up onto the couch with me. I felt a warm weight resting on my lap, and looked down to be greeted with the enormous dewy eyes of, Leslie, our terrier puppy. A smile crept up my face as I rubbed circles around her back and ears.

"I missed you, Les," I started before leaning down to plant a kiss on her nose. She licked me, and I giggled, tears beginning to well in my eyes as I lightly bopped her on the top of her head. Our landlord was one of the few who allowed animals in the apartments. It was one of the reasons we chose to move in. Getting up, I put our family picture back on the mantle and shuffled into the kitchen where James was busying himself with the night's dinner.

"It's a bit late to be eating so much, so I'm only planning on cooking something light," he stated, sounding almost apologetic. "I promise I'll cook something more substantial tomorrow. You could definitely use it."

Yet again, James was apologizing for helping me. It was only then that I noticed the dark rings under his eyes, his pale complexion, and the way his normally bright gold hair had faded to a dull blonde. I couldn't understand why he was like this; always feeling bad about doing the right thing and never realizing the help he has given to those around him. His lack of confidence in himself was painfully obvious, and it hurt to think of how little he thought of himself. The past few months hadn't just been hard on Harry and I; James was part of our family too, and it occurred to me that the loss affected him just as much as it affected us. Unable to hold myself back, I hugged him from behind.

Caught slightly off guard, my friend fumbled with the stirring spoon he had been using to make tonight's pasta with, but quickly grabbed it before it hit the floor and placed it on the counter. He sighed and peeled my arms from around him so he could turn to face me. Grabbing my shoulders, he looked into my eyes and gave me a small smile, pulling me closer to him in yet another tight hug. I returned the gesture.

"Thank you," I mumbled into his shirt, my voice barely audible over the bubbling of the boiling water in the pot now behind us. He tensed, but after a moment's hesitation I felt a pair of hands grasp my own, and not another word was spoken. We stayed like that for what seemed like hours, until the boiling of the water became louder and more persistent. James gently pulled himself away from me and grabbed the stirring spoon again. I left him to his work and strolled around the rest of the apartment.

Reaching my room, I sat down on my bed and grabbed a notebook. It was time for me to plan the next steps to regaining a somewhat normal life. I knew a few people who would be more than willing to employ me, and I already had a part-time job at a nearby modeling agency.

I had been with Fall Away Fashion Corps and Seaside Venice magazine for three years now, and had gotten used to the hustle and bustle of the fashion industry. Needless to say, it wasn't where my passion lied, but my mom had thought it would be a good way to make a little money for myself when I was still young. At first, I hated it, but I got to know the girls I worked with better as the months went on, and although I wasn't really close with any of them (most of them seemed a bit spacey), the job became more bearable, and it turned out to be a significant source of income for me. I planned on leaving once I entered college, but my mom and boss begged me to stay. I guess they had grown fond of me over the time I had been there, though I had no idea why. The other girls were constantly messing with me for doing homework on the job. In between shoots, when all the other models were chattering away with each other, I would excuse myself to the dressing room, where I would plug my headphones in and get down to business. Though it wasn't a full-time job, it was still difficult to keep up with my schoolwork at the same time as I was working.

It would be a good start to my job hunt, seeing as I had already secured a position, but I knew as soon as I got a real job I would have no other choice than to leave the industry and pursue a career that could carry Harry through college. I began to scribble down names of people I knew near my apartment who ran small businesses or worked in the nearby area. I started with the families we were closest too, followed by our immediate neighbors, and finally, any other people I was familiar with in the city.

An hour later, I heard James call me downstairs to eat and after a relaxing dinner, I ushered Harrison to bed and wished James a good night. He told me to call him if I needed anything and he left to go back to his house a few streets over.

The day was drawing to a close, and I realized how tired I was as I looked up at the clock. It was only eleven o'clock, and I felt more drained than ever. It was all I could do to drag my feet back upstairs into my room. I took one last look at the list I had formulated, vowing to start my job search the next day, and flopped down on my back.

I fell asleep in my clothes staring at the ceiling and worrying about tomorrow.