Author's Note: This is not a Slash fic. Not is it M-rated!

Thank you theredrobin for helping me out with this story! If you haven't read her stories yet, go do so!

Disclaimer:The Fault In Our Stars belongs to John Green. I just wrote this story.

I never knew that days stretched out into seemingly endless pockets of time when you were sad. The empty shell was cracked. Reading about pain and suffering was nothing compared to this.

My father tried to comfort me, while I lay crying on my bed.

"Isobel, honey, this isn't the end of the world, you know? He's not the only fish in the sea. And frankly, he doesn't know what he's missing," he said. I didn't respond.

"It's such a secret place, the land of tears," he said, in the words of Antoine de Saint-Exupéry. This managed to draw a slight smile from me. He used to read the Little Prince to me when I was a child.

"Dad?" I asked, "does this feeling ever go away?" He pulled me into a hug.

"Oh, baby girl, yes, it goes away. You will feel happy again," he promised me. I buried my face against his shoulder and cried.

.o0O0o.

Isaac called me once every hour of every day, for the next three weeks. I refused to pick up, though I listened to the voice mails each night. He asked me to come by, or to call him. Saying he didn't mean to upset me. I didn't call him though, I wanted him to be in love with me, like I was in love with him. He just wanted a friend.

In the last voice mail he left, he said he wished it had been different. He wished he could be something he was not. I was clueless to what he meant by that.

.o0O0o.

One of the few things that helped me get my mind off Isaac, was my dancing class. When I got out of class that Thursday, Isaac was leaning against the wall. I ignored him. Just before I managed to slip away, Jesse stopped me.

"Isobel," she said, "I wanted to ask you if you would be interested in switching classes. I think my more advanced class would be better suited for you. You already have a basis, you would only need a few private lessons to catch up." I smiled at her.

"I don't know, can I think about it? I'd also have to ask my dad first. Is it okay if I let you know next week?" I asked. Jesse placed a hand on my shoulder and gave a little squeeze.

"That's fine, Isobel, I hope you will though. I can see you enjoy dancing," she said, "I'll see you next week."

After she walked away, I opened the door to the locker room.

"Isobel?" Isaac's voice sounded really close, so I turned around. He held out his hand, but I didn't take it.

"What do you want, Isaac?" I asked him.

"Can we talk?" he asked.

"Why?"

"Because I want to, I don't want to lose your friendship." he said.

"Well, I don't want another friend," I snapped. He visibly recoiled from my words. I immediately regretted them and bit my tongue.

"I'm sorry, okay?" he said, frustration apparent in his voice. "I like you, a lot. But I just don't want a girlfriend. I'm done with love, completely and irrefutably through." I sighed, tears were welling up in my eyes again.

"I'm sorry, Isaac, that's just not good enough," I whispered, before I opened the door and disappeared into the locker room.

I sat down on the bench, my head in my hands, and let the tears flow. I knew Isaac had known loss, a deep and painful loss, that I had no hopes of comprehending. I had no right to even think I could understand the depth of his fears. But that's just what they were, fears.

Unless I found a way to get through to him, he would never realize what he was doing to himself. That by refusing to let someone in, he was refusing to live. Like me, he had only been a shell.

I quickly changed and rushed outside. He was there, sitting on a bench, waiting for me. It was dark outside, but the street light illuminated his pale face.

"Isaac," I started, but I had no idea what I could say to make him change his mind. Once again I was lost for words. Instead I took his hand and stroked my thumb over the hard knuckles.

"Don't," he said, and I pulled away my hand.

"No, wait!" he said, "That's not what I was going to say. Don't hate me, please? I just want you to be my friend and hang out, you know?"

"I don't know, Isaac," I replied, "all I know is that you don't want to let anyone close to you. I have an idea why, but I don't know. No, your life wasn't all hugs and puppies and I haven't got the faintest idea what it's been like for you. But you've got to stop living a half life!"

"Oh, that's rich, coming from you! I like to think I at least earned the right to live the way I do, losing my sight and all," he replied sarcastically. He had a point of course. I had been avoiding life. That is, until I met him. But I woke up and I was doing something about it.

"No you didn't! Can't you see that you are not that miserable? Your mother would do anything for you! She loves you and she's not the only one!" I yelled angrily. He laughed at me.

"I can't see anything, remember? I'm blind!" he threw back at me. His words angered me even more. It was the lamest excuse I ever heard.

"Yes, so?" I asked.

"I'M BLIND!" he shouted in frustration. I shrugged my shoulders, suddenly tired of this argument.

"Being blind impairs your ability to see with your eyes, Isaac, it does not excuse you from seeing with your heart and mind." I said barely audible as I sat down next to him. "You're missing so much, because you refuse to give life a chance." Isaac sighed and shook his head.

"Here," I said, grabbing his hand and pulling him up, "Just let go and feel." I slid my arm around his waist and danced with him. Silently asking him to follow me with my movements. The dance became easier and more fluent as Isaac started to feel instead of think. We danced until he stopped moving and sighed deeply.

"I just don't want to get hurt like that anymore," he said, "Why? Why? Why would you even want me? I'm just a burden. Monica thought so. My father thought so. Everyone leaves in the end, Isobel. I just get left behind."

My heart broke for him and I pulled him into a tight hug. "If you could, would you go back and choose to not meet Augustus?" I asked. He pulled slightly away from me.

"No, of course not! He was my best friend!" he said.

"Isn't that a kind of love? Is it really so hard to believe that true love, as you call it, is worth the pain?"

Isaac was silent for a long while, lost deep within his thoughts. I watched his face, hoping he'd come to the same conclusion I had. That while pain is a necessary part of life, joy is the part that's worth living for.

After what seemed like an eternity, a smile spread across his face. Not a polite one, a real, genuine smile. A smile like the one on the picture of him and Augustus.

"Isobel Hayes, you are a genius!" he said.

And then he leaned in and kissed me.