A/N: Back from the dead, back from the dead. I'm sure that most people have forgotten this fic or given up on it, but here's the next chapter. You call all thank the one and only Vfrn for this, who added this story to her update list and gave me a sudden burst of inspiration to write the next chapter. Huzzah, huzzah. I realize that a lot of stuff has happened in the fictional Hannah-verse since I started this story, but that won't change anything in this story. Sorry if that offends anyone.

"If my father makes me go back home to Texas with him, I am going to die," Miley groaned. "Do you hear me, Taryn? All of your hard work and all this rehab will have been for nothing, because I will be suffocated with too much love and worry and obsession. He will drive me up a wall. How am I supposed to tell him that?"

Taryn chuckled at that, as she continued to fiddle with the IV drip attached to brunette woman's arm. "Sounds tough, to have someone caring and watching out for you so much that it kills you. There are worse ways to die, though, right?" she asked, her lips pursing in concentration as she checked the level of fluid in the bag.

Miley raised an eyebrow at her caretaker, then shifted her weight in her bed so that she was sitting a little straighter. "You are a serious killjoy. You can't let me mope and whine a little bit before they drag me off, never to see you again? You know you'll miss me when I'm gone."

"Horridly, horridly. But that's why I'm not letting you be all mopey," Taryn replied, a broad grin softening her words. "If you get all sad, then I'll get sad, and I'll cry, and then my mascara will run, and it will just be this giant disaster. And you still leave, and what have we accomplished other than to prove that waterproof mascara is anything but?"

"Ah, I am going to miss you." It was the truth, and Miley knew that Taryn felt the same way. The ex-idol still thought it was strange that she was going to be living somewhere else in a matter of days. She was going to be living in Texas, where she didn't know anyone except her father. Lily was still overseas somewhere, and Oliver and Taryn would still be in Atlanta.

Her stomach twisted suddenly at that, but Miley wasn't sure which one of them she was jealous of, let alone why she would feel that way. Oliver and Taryn had become friends, connected by their shared medical interest in Miley, and she had the nagging feeling that Oliver got just a little happier if Taryn was in the hospital room when he came to visit than when she was with another patient. Just because I was his friend before, doesn't mean I have a claim over his friendship, Miley chided herself. Surely he's made friends and had lots of girlfriends since I've been in my coma.

Taryn had finished adjusting the IV drip, and wiped her hands on her skirt. "Well, just be happy that you won't have to have that thing stuck in your arm all day, every day." She pointed at the needle taped to the back of Miley's hand, grimacing slightly. "I got hospitalized for a few days once, and that was the worst part about it all. Hated it, hated it."

"What were you in the hospital for?" Miley asked, wondering why she was prying into the girl's life when she would only be in it for three days.

She didn't seem to mind, though, as she just shrugged and let out a sigh. "I used to bruise really easily, and my mom was convinced that it was something serious, but it's not. I swear," Taryn added at the sight of Miley's concerned face. "Seriously, I don't lie to patients, which you are for a few more days. I just bruise easy and trip over myself a lot. One of the many problems of having big feet, ranked only slightly above the inability to find shoes in your size. Horrible."

Miley laughed, relieved that it wasn't serious, but also slightly jealous that someone could shrug off their experience in a hospital so easily. Maybe one day she would be able to do the same. "Yeah, I was in a coma for twelve years and missed what are supposed to be the best years of my life, but it was no big deal, ha ha ha." That would be nice.

"Well, much as I will miss you, I do have other patients, and you're getting too healthy for me to claim that I need to check up on you that much," Taryn said. "But one of the nurses told me your dad was in the cafeteria, so I bet he'll be up here soon. To, y'know, take the loneliness away. Page me if you need anything else, 'kay?"

Taryn gave a small wave as she walked out the door. "Bye," Miley responded weakly, lifting her right hand--the one without the IV needle--to give a wave in response. Taryn would be back on her lunch break to watch Pushing Daisies on DVD, but they didn't get to hang out as much as they had when Miley had first woken up.

She reached for the remote and turned the TV on, flipping through various daytime shows before settling on The History Channel. It was something about Medieval European castles, which was vaguely interesting and far better than a soap opera. Miley fiddled slightly with the coverlet on her bed, realizing suddenly that she wasn't just leaving the place she'd been living in since she woke up. She was leaving what had been her home for almost eleven years. She didn't even remember the first hospital she had gone to before they'd moved her to Atlanta. How strange was it going to be for the nurses and doctors, for that matter, who had seen her there every day for as long as they'd been working?

Her thoughts were interrupted by a tentative knock on the door, which came from Bobby Ray. He held a cup of Jell-O and a plastic spoon in his hand, and offered them to his daughter when he sat down in the chair next to her bed. "What flavor?" Miley asked. "I'm not taking it if it's some strange 'Tropical Island Punch' that really isn't a flavor."

"It's red," he replied. "Come on, what's safer than red? Can't say if it's cherry or strawberry, but either of 'em are good." Bobby Ray smiled at her, still holding out the Jell-O cup, which Miley reached out and grabbed, tearing off the metal cover and digging in.

"Strawberry," she announced after the first bite. "Good. Thank you."

Bobby Ray nodded, and turned his attention towards the TV. They sat in silence for the rest of the documentary, Miley eating her Jell-O so slowly that it got warm. "Why is it," she remarked during one commercial about Ritz crackers, "that it doesn't turn back into liquid? You have to put it in your mouth and swish it around. That's just not normal."

"It's Jell-O," he replied. "Just appreciate that it's sweet, it's flavored, and you can eat it when you're sick." Miley did just that, finishing off the bottom of the serving-sized container and placing her trash on the table next to her.

"Three days," she said suddenly, not sure where the words came from or why she felt that she had to mention it. They both knew that she was going to be released, they both knew that they were going back to Texas, and they both knew that it was strange.

Her father continued to sit there for a moment, opening and closing his mouth as if he had something he wanted to say, but couldn't find the words. Miley frowned, wondering at the deep wrinkles on his forehead and around his eyes as he reflected on thoughts she wasn't privy to. "Daddy, you know, I can't wait to go home," she lied. "Well, not home, but back to Texas. I want to go outside and go to the beach and walk around, and get out of this ridiculous hospital gown."

Bobby Ray leaned forward suddenly, his left elbow on the bed and his right hand on the top of her head. "Miles, baby," he sighed, stroking her forehead. "I know that you don't want to go, and I know that I have to. So, if you want to, you can stay here. I'll pay for your apartment, and you can stay here and go to physical rehab, and study for your GED, and you can start something new…"

Miley could feel the tears welling up in her eyes, and she shook her head sharply. "No, Daddy, no, I don't know how to live by myself! I--I'm not twenty-six, I'm fourteen! Fourteen year-olds don't live on their own, they live with their parents and they go to school, and they have sleepovers with their friends, and they're irresponsible!" She could hear herself rambling on and on, but the words continued to spill out in spite of her best efforts to control them. "Daddy, Daddy, you can't leave me here by myself!"

Bobby Ray pulled her into a tight embrace, and it was only then that Miley realized that he was shaking as he smoothed down her hair. "You don't have to stay if you don't want, baby," he murmured, kissing the top of her head. "You don't. But you won't be by yourself. You'll have Oliver, and Taryn, and if you come home, all you'll have is me. You won't have any friends, you won't have anybody except me. And I'm not enough. You don't want to live with me forever, you want to strike out on your own and enjoy your life while you're still young. While you still can."

She wanted to protest, wanted to say that he was all that she needed, but all she could do was cry. Because he was right, and they both knew it. Miley was realizing it just now, but her father had known it from the first moment he'd seen her. She had been propped up in her hospital bed, with Taryn at the foot of her bed and Oliver standing next to her, and she had been happy.

When Bobby Ray left for the night, Miley's eyes were still puffy from crying, but they were dry. Taryn found her sitting up in her bed, hugging her pillow to her chest and staring blankly at the wall when she came in after her shift was over. "Hey," the nurse greeted her softly.

Miley glanced up at the blonde, smiling weakly. "I'm staying in Atlanta," she said. Somehow, Miley had expected she had run herself out of tears, but she could feel them gathering again. "My dad's going back to Texas, and I'm staying here." She raised her tearful eyes, chin trembling slightly. "We're friends, right? When I'm not in the hospital, will you still see--"

Her voice cracked before she could finish the statement, but Taryn would have cut her off before than anyways. "Oh, sweetie, of course we're friends," she replied, rushing forward and wrapping her arms around Miley. "Of course we're friends. I'm so wrapped up in my job, I think you may be my best friend, and there's no way that we're not seeing each other after you're released."

Miley let out a long, shuddering sigh and hugged her newly-declared best friend back. "Thank you," she whispered. "If I get an apartment that's way far away from you, I'll come and visit you--you won't have to come see me."

And then, it happened. Taryn pushed Miley away slightly, still holding onto her shoulders. "I know!" she declared, her momentary quiet reassurance replaced by the usual bubbly, too-excited Taryn. "You should come live with me! My apartment's tiny, and it sucks, but we can get a two-bedroom in a better complex, and you can sleep on the couch until then. And you still have to go to physical therapy, and I'm just by the rail stop, so you can get there no problem!"

The nurse's excitement was practically bubbling over, making Miley happier and happier with each sentence. "Yes!" she agreed impulsively, then immediately frowned. "But won't I be disrupting you, and what about your schedule and your friends coming over and stuff? Won't me living on your couch ruin your plans and stuff?"

"When you are a nurse, you have no plans," Taryn told her with a smile. "And besides, we've already established that you're my best friend, so screw the rest of them. Like I said, I'm job-crazy, so I don't have any pressing social engagements to begin with."

Miley didn't know if choosing to live on a couch for an undetermined amount of time was a good idea, but she knew that it was a fun, exciting one that would make the transition easier. Taryn was not as dependable as Bobby Ray, or as familiar as Oliver, but she hadn't known Miley before the accident, and wouldn't want her to be her old self. And even if Miley couldn't have put the feeling into words, it was a huge relief.

A/N: Comments/suggestions/pledges of loyalty are always welcome. I hope that everyone enjoys this chapter; I was a little worried that it might look like I'm simply replacing Lily with Taryn, but there's a reason for that. If I can manage to keep up with this story for as long as I want, then all will be explained. And Lily will return, I promise. How could she not?

Too much happened in this chapter for its length, but such is life. Sorry. I'll try and pace the next chapter: and it's the move. Exciting, no?