Preface: This story was first published a few years ago, but ended up getting deleted — along with all the reviews. This second edition followed a few months later. In addition to some minor edits, the updated version features a new scene and a couple of new chapters. You can also visit bluelagoonbash. wordpress. com for exclusive comic pages and artwork.

It's been an exhaustive project, and my gratitude goes out to all who've contributed art and offered feedback. Please leave a review sharing your thoughts.

"For As Long As We Both Shall Live"

Many of her friends had grown up believing in fate — but Emma Robinson had always believed in control.

Fate had a way of converting people, though, and it appeared to be targeting Emma right now. Why else would she be stuck on this island for three long months? Why else would her attempts to get home continually fail? And why else would the flare she'd just fired — the very last one — somehow go unnoticed by the people in the helicopter?

Her jaw fell open as the vehicle faded from sight, a slew of thick clouds covering up its departure.

Dean held a palm up to block the sun, staring in the direction that the chopper had gone. He eyed the scene with a look of nervous suspicion, the same one he'd worn when he'd found the skeleton.

By the time Emma turned to him, however, Dean's expression had entirely changed. She saw nothing but a calm, contented stare, the one he used while eyeing the sunset everyday.

Emma's face became a mixture of anger and awe. She eyed Dean as though he was out of his mind.

Dean looked at her…then flinched in surprise. After a moment of silence, he reached for her hand.

Emma pulled away, storming off toward the forest.

Dean walked to the shore and began his daily fishing duties. Around half an hour into his familiar routine, he noticed that Emma had appeared as well.

She hadn't acknowledged him in any way. She'd simply walked up and gone about her business.

A few days had passed since the helicopter had left. Prior to that event, Emma had suspected that they'd never get off this island. Over the past hour, her opinion had changed: It was no longer a suspicion, it was an absolute certainty.

She cast a weary glance at her stony time slate, then crouched and added another mark to it. The wind blew her loose shirt across her face. She pushed it aside while looking down at the stone.

Dean watched his companion with a curious stare. She'd barely spoken since the helicopter had appeared, and all of his attempts at discussions had failed.

He leaned down with a sigh, gazing off into the distance. "The silent treatment's getting kind of old, Em."

She went on staring away at the slate, tallying up the number of days.

After a few seconds, Dean picked himself up. "Fine," he said, turning away from her. "You want privacy? You can have as much as you need." He paused while waiting for her reaction. The threat didn't seem to have any effect. Dean shrugged, swinging his spear about. "All right, well…guess I'll see you in a year or so. Maybe you'll feel like talking then."

Emma rolled her eyes, then sprung up and threw her carving rock down. "You are so, frustrating!"

Dean turned around and spread his arms. "You want to tell me why? Because I'm not real good at reading minds."

"We're stuck on this island."

"Yeah, I kind of noticed." He smiled.

"Well you could've fooled me."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Emma ran her hands over her face. She took a deep breath, then eyed Dean calmly. "You realize that we have no way of getting home, right?"

"I do," he replied, compassion creeping into his eyes. "And I'll tell you the same thing I said when we were stranded at sea: freaking out- -"

"Isn't going to make us any less screwed." Emma looked up at the sky. "I'm not asking you to freak out…I'm just asking you to care."

Dean squinted a little, clearly confused.

"Sometimes I honestly can't tell if we want the same thing," she said.

"What are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about leaving this island. Going home." She looked him over. "Some days you act like you want to get rescued. Other days you act like you'd rather stay here. Which is it?"

Dean turned away, getting lost in his thoughts. His bare muscles bulged as he folded his arms.

Emma watched him as her hair danced about in the breeze.

A brief silence passed before he managed to answer. "I'm honestly not too sure anymore," he mumbled.

"Well I wish you'd just pick one and stick with it. All the inconsistency is what's frustrating me."

"I'm inconsistent?" He chuckled. "What about you? I'm not the only one who likes it here sometimes. You've said so yourself."

Emma looked away, shaking her head in denial. She knew that Dean had a valid point, but she was too angry to admit it right now.

He motioned downward toward her slate. "So why are you still counting the days and weeks on that little rock of yours? Why do you care how long we've been on this island?"

"Because I'm not content with all of this — like you are. I can't stand the thought of this being my life now."

Dean's grin froze on his face, then began to fade little by little. He fell quiet, and looked away.

"What?" she asked, spreading her arms a bit.

"Nothing. It's just…" His head sagged, and his voice softened. "I guess it makes me a little sad to know that you feel that way."

Emma's lips parted a tad. She immediately realized that Dean wasn't referring to the fact that they were stuck on an island. He was referring to the relationship that they'd built on the island.

Dean began walking off without a word.

"Dean…" she called. Emma rushed out in front of him and held his wrists. "Wait a minute. I didn't mean it like that." She pulled Dean close and wrapped her arms around him. "I'm sorry."

Dean closed his eyes, hugging her back.

After a few seconds, Emma let her eyes drift closed as well. "Sorry for losing it like that. It's just…I don't know…sometimes it seems like you don't care whether we make it home, or whether we die here."

Dean stared out at the water. "Maybe we define the word home differently, Em."

Emma opened her eyes, feeling a tad confused. "What are you saying?"

"I'm saying you've got it all wrong. I don't want to die here, I want to live here — with you."

Emma and Dean pulled off their clothes, bobbing together in the quiet lagoon.

Dean sighed a bit, and let his gaze wander off. "This is going to sound really weird…but when we first got here, I sort of wondered if life was punishing me or something."

Emma's eyes narrowed in slow confusion. "Why?"

"I used to spend so much time acting like I could care less about everything around me…" Dean frowned. "And I can see now that I took a lot for granted."

Emma found herself quite surprised by his words. For a good deal of their time on the island, Dean had kept these emotions well-hidden, pretending to be indifferent to the world they'd left behind.

"But now I think it's the other way around. I don't view any of this as a punishment, I view it as a gift."

Emma squinted a little. "Why is that?" she asked softly.

"Because being here, being with you…I feel more alive now than I did back in the city." Dean stared into Emma's gentle, comforting gaze. A flutter of excitement filled his heart, and a calm grin spread across his face. "I don't know if any of this was 'meant' to happen. All I know is I've been given a simple, quiet life with the girl I…I…" Dean paused, his stare freezing on her.

Emma's mouth fell open, and her eyes widened a bit. For a second, it sounded like Dean was about to confirm something she'd grown suspicious of lately.

As his heart sped up, and his cheeks grew red, Dean found himself looking off to the side. "Anyway…" he mumbled, clearing his throat.

Much to Emma's dismay, Dean had fallen silent. More than anything right now, she wanted him to finish saying what he was about to say. At the same time, however, she didn't want to pressure Dean into doing anything he wasn't ready for.

And for a moment, she paused to wonder what that said about her own feelings for him.

Emma looked down at the water, and changed the subject. "We never talk much about your dad."

Dean closed his eyes, then opened them slowly, keeping his gaze away from hers.

"Sorry," she said. "Sorry for bringing that up."

"It's okay," he whispered. "I just feel like talking about him will make me miss him more."

She ran a hand along his face. "We don't have to then. I don't want to make you sad."

"I'm not," he said, looking into her eyes. "As long as we're here, I'll always miss my family, and you'll always miss yours. But whenever I start getting too sad about the past…I kind of tell myself to remember the present." He smiled a little. "It doesn't make all the sadness just disappear, but it does make me feel better again."

She drifted in closer to him. "The present…" Emma pondered that word while watching specks of sunlight glisten along the surface. "I used to spend so much time planning for the future, that I kind of forgot to live in the present."

He nodded, thinking back to some of their previous discussions.

"But things are different here. I've had to slow down and embrace the moment."

Dean made a playful grin. "I guess getting stuck on an island will make that happen."

Emma giggled. "Not just because of that…but because of you. Because of us."

Dean wrapped his arms around Emma's shoulders, running a few fingers through her long damp hair. Another slow smile crept across his face.

Emma met his grin with one of her own. Then she looked into the water, and her joy began to fade.

"What's wrong?"

Emma gazed down at her calm reflection, recognizing one of her guilty little stares. "You're not the only one who took things for granted back home. I think I undervalued something as well."

Dean drew back in mock amazement. "What was that?"

She hesitated before looking up at him. "Love," she mumbled. "My parents' love." Emma glanced off and shook her head a little. "Parents are parents. They get on your nerves for various reasons. Sometimes they're super strict and you think they're being too mean…or they're super affectionate and you think they're being too nice."

Dean chuckled.

"I guess the bottom line is that your parents love you. They always have, and they always will. Mine told me they loved me all the time…and I used to just smile, and hug them back…" She paused while feeling a tear well up. "But after a while, I think I stopped appreciating what they meant when they said it."

Dean watched her closely, letting her know he was listening.

"Sometimes it's easy to forget what 'I love you' means. It means that people value who you are, and what you bring into their lives." She looked out toward the horizon. "And it means that they'd miss you, if you disappeared or something."

Dean wiped a tear from Emma's face. After holding quiet for about a minute, he calmly spoke up. "I never met your parents, Em, but I'm pretty sure that they knew you didn't take them for granted."

Emma took a deep breath, then slowly exhaled. She buried her head in his chest, and made a weak little grin. "Thanks for saying that," she muttered. And then Dean's statement began sinking in. "You're talking in the past tense." She paused. "You really think we're going to be here a while."

Dean sighed, licking his lips. "I don't know how long we're going to be here," he said, "but if I have to be stuck on this island with anyone, then I'm definitely glad to be stuck here with you."

Night had fallen across the area, and a bright moon was shining over the island.

Emma lay awake in Dean's strong arms, brushing a finger along his sleeping face. Whenever she felt anxious or discontent, it seemed that Dean always managed to cheer her up.

Amidst his efforts, as well as her own, she could feel something in her beginning to change. Her outbursts of panic were becoming less frequent these days.

She wasn't exactly sure what any of this meant.

Before long, however, she began to recall her earlier words — the ones she'd used while defining a certain emotion. "Dean," she whispered, so as not to wake him up.

Just as she'd hoped, he gave no response.

Her heart suddenly threatened to pound out of her chest. "I just want to say…that I value who you are, and what you bring into my life." Emma's eyes watered as she watched him a moment. Then she turned away, and snuggled under their cover.

Seconds later, she felt Dean's arm pulling her close again.

"I love you too, Emma," he said.

Emma's face lit up, glowing brighter than the stars.

Moments afterward, she closed her eyes and cuddled against him, and both of them drifted off to sleep.

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