13

As the last echoes of Bryan's roar faded away, Scott held his breath, muscles tight, prepared to leap back into the fight if he needed to, if the plan had failed. His gaze was laser-focused on the two people on the ground before him, Ashley lying on her back, her brother kneeling next to her, hunched over, breathing heavy. Nobody moved, the only sound the wind whipping through the nearly-empty field, giving the tension-filled, moon-lit night an eerie soundtrack.

"Bryan?" He kept his voice low, barely above a whisper. "Are you—"

The words cut off as the unstable shifter threw his head back and roared again, red eyes burning incredibly bright for a second, before abruptly turning electric blue and fading out. As they went dark, he pitched to his left, collapsing in a heap, unmoving, on the grass next to his sister.

Immediately, Scott started forward, approaching the pair quickly but cautiously. The last thing he wanted was to spark off another brawl, the stinging wounds on his body, the ache in his ribs a painful reminder of what that could bring. Crouching between them, he hesitated for a second, unsure of which to check first. He could hear both heartbeats, one erratic, the other weak but slowly strengthening, which was a relief. But neither were moving, no other visible signs of life. Making decision, he reached for Ashley, ignoring the blood staining her clothes and skin, and as soon as his fingers brushed her arm, he knew. It had worked. Despite her rough appearance, her shallow breathing, and the deathly paleness of her cheeks, she was no longer in pain. Unconscious, but healthy. She'd been healed.

"Is she okay?"

He looked up, found Malia standing a few feet away, eyeing the fallen siblings warily. He felt his heart skip a beat, relief that she was okay, unharmed coursing through him. The fight had been so frantic, everything so quick, he hadn't been sure just how hurt she was. The urge to go to her, to take her in her arms was so strong, but he bit it back. That could wait. She would understand. There were other things to deal with now.

"She's alive and she's not hurting. Which means—"

"It worked." From behind Malia, Derek appeared, blood dripping from a nasty gash that ran all the way down his right cheek. Crouching next to Bryan, he rolled him over onto his back with a grunt, revealing his face, which had shifted back to human. A good sign. "When I did this for Cora, I passed out cold. It's, uh..." He blew out a heavy breath, slowly shaking his head. "Draining doesn't even begin to cover it. He's going to be out for awhile."

"What about her?" He looked back at Ashley, who still hadn't moved. "How long until she wakes up?"

Derek shrugged, frowning. "I'm not sure. Cora came around quickly, but her situation was a little different." He touch a finger to his wound, winced, shook his head again. "I think we just have to wait and see."

Silence fell then, as they all looked at each other, not quite sure what to do or say. It was so quiet, such a stark contrast from the noise, the fury of the fight. The adrenaline was still pumping through all of them, making it hard to be still. Giving into the urge to move, Scott straightened up and gently prodded his side, grimacing at the sharp pain the motion sent lancing through his ribs.

"Derek," he said, trying to distract himself from the uncomfortable sensation. "What the hell happened? Why did—why did he stop?"

"I have no idea. Maybe… maybe because you're a True Alpha, it makes a difference. I—I don't know, Scott. He shouldn't have. He should have attacked you. But—"

A low groan sounded then, drawing all attention back to Ashley as she started to stir. They looked on as her eyes slowly fluttered open, face screwing up like she was expecting pain, and freezing when she found none. For a second, she didn't move, and he could see the confusion forming on her face as she tried to piece together the last few minutes. And then the memories must have hit, because she abruptly sat up straight, heartbeat taking off, eyes suddenly wide, darting, full of panic.

"Hey, hey, it's okay," he said, crouching again and reaching for her hand, grasping it tight, a physical connection to try and ground her as much as he could. "You're all right. Your brother's all right." Her eyes flickered to Bryan, and he could see the worry and fear in their depths. "He's okay. He's just unconscious. We didn't hurt him."

He wasn't sure how convincing his softly-spoken words were at first as she continued to look around, gaze rapidly flitting between her brother and the rest of them. For a brief second, he was worried her heart might actually batter its way out of her chest, it was beating so fast. Then, slowly, he heard her pulse finally start to slow, her breathing evening out as her disoriented mind finally began catching up with reality, recognising the truth in his words. When she closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and gave his hand a little squeeze, he let out a sigh of relief

"What happened?" she rasped out, eyes flaring open and meeting his.

"You called us. You remember that?"

"I—yeah, I think so." Her brow knit, and he could see her struggling to piece together her memories of the night. "I was... I was talking with Bryan about... about..." She frowned. "I don't know. We were talking, and suddenly..." Her eyes flared open again as everything suddenly clicked. "He lost it. He—he tried to leave. I followed him, got in front of him. I tried to stop him. I had to."

"Yeah. And you called us."

The call had come in just as he and Malia were finishing dinner, sitting together on the couch after a long, exhausting day. The meeting with Deucalion had provided a few potential ideas, and they'd spent the day sorting them out, trying to figure out if there was a better way to approach things, their best option if they couldn't get the wolfsbane. The only pause had come when Ashley had shown up around noon, let them know she and her brother were safe and isolated, listened to their plan. He gave her his number before she left, just in case she needed help. Then it was back to work, until the day started winding down and they'd decided to settle in and try to relax while everything was still quiet, passing up an invite to Lydia's for movie night, too tired to want to leave the couch.

All things considered, he'd been feeling decent about how everything was going. Nothing had gone terribly wrong at that point. His new-found optimism was still going strong, despite the long day. He was still worried, still aware of how bad things could quickly get, but unlike the previous night, he wasn't drowning in it. It had been a good day.

And then his phone went off. Suddenly, it was a rush out of the house, sending off a call to Derek to meet them at the abandoned farmhouse just outside of town the twins were using for shelter.

"I did. I called you. And then I went after him. I—" She cut off, letting out a shuddering breath. "I tried to stop him. But I—" Swallowing heavily, she looked down at herself, at her torn clothing, at the blood soaking through the fabric. "I had to fight him," she whispered, trembling fingers ghosting over the largest of the rips.

He squeezed her hand softly. "Yeah, and you did a good job. You kept him from hurting anyone else. You kept him here until we got here."

They'd arrived on the scene as the two were fighting in the field just out past the house, and immediately jumped in. This close to the full moon, Bryan had been stronger than ever, and between dealing with him and trying to convince Ashley to step back and let them handle things, he'd had the edge. Even when Derek got there, things barely improved, all of them getting repelled time after time. It didn't seem to matter how often they knocked him back, knocked him down, he always got back up, his mind completely gone, body running on instinct, rage, and adrenaline. The injuries were starting to pile up, the frustration growing at least as quickly.

And then everything changed.

It was an innocuous blow, as innocuous as any violent shove during a supernatural brawl could be, that Bryan caught his sister with, sending her flying backward through the air. If she'd landed flat, she probably would have bounced back up like it was nothing at all. But there was a fence post, a single, solitary spike standing tall, the rest long since fallen and rotted, and somehow, she found it. Her shriek of pain as it pierced through her back and out her stomach had drawn everything to an immediate halt, everybody in the field, including her raging brother stopping dead and turning toward her.

"Oh my God," she breathed as the memory came back to her, pressing her hand to her stomach, over the spot the post had punctured. Her shirt was torn open there, but the skin below was whole, unblemished, no trace of the mortal wound remaining. Wide-eyed, she looked at him, mouth gaping open. "Is this—how am I—am I dead?"

For the first time since he'd left his house, a genuine smile formed on Scott's face. "No, you're not dead. You..." He cleared his throat, rubbed a hand over his jaw. "You came close. Really close. But your brother healed you. He saved your life. And maybe his own."

"But... how?"

An Alpha roar. That's what had done it in the end. He had no idea how or why. He might never know. But for some reason, by some stroke of luck, it had worked.

As they were all standing there, the battle forgotten, staring at her, watching the blood and life drain from her, Bryan had been the first to recover. He'd started toward her, and without a clear view of his face, Scott wasn't sure if he was trying to help or going to finish her off. Too far away to get between them in time, he'd done the only thing he could. He'd roared. All he was hoping for was to draw his attention, trigger that same primal reaction that had been triggered in himself twenty-four hours ago, the territorial response of an Alpha to an Alpha. A challenge, one somebody lost in an animalistic state couldn't possible ignore or resist. If he could get all the focus on himself, Malia and Derek might have time to do something for her, get her away.

To his surprise, rather than immediately turning on him, Bryan had instead frozen in place. For a brief second, he was completely still, until he'd violently shuddered once, twice, and suddenly the raging monster was gone, replaced in a snap by an upset kid who'd immediately bee-lined for his sister. The sound he'd let out as he collapsed at her side had been far from any of the noises he'd been making before, no longer the mindless howl of a raging shifter, but the anguished cry of a grief-stricken brother.

More confused than anything, Scott had gone to him, warily tried to console him, while the others picked her up off the stake and laid her on the ground. One look at Malia's face as she studied the wound, and he'd known it was fatal. He wasn't sure what to do then, had stayed beside Bryan, watched him weep over his sister's body, feeling completely powerless.

That's when Derek spoke up, pointed out they now had a chance, an opportunity to grab victory from the jaws of tragedy. An opportunity to save two lives.

"We walked him through it," he told her, after filling her in on everything she'd missed, "but it was all him. He used his Alpha power to save you. He gave up that spark to keep you alive."

It took her a second to process everything, and he could see her struggling with it, could see the sudden happiness briefly light up her face, before it was darkened by the shadow of disbelief. "So—so, is he okay, then?" she finally asked, halting, hesitant. "Did—is he better? Did this fix him?" Her voice was tight, restrained as she fought to keep the hope from shining through, tried to play it safe, just in case she was misunderstanding him, what he was saying.

"We think it helped." He spoke slowly, picked his words carefully, didn't want to create any false impressions for her. "He won't be an Alpha anymore and we think that'll make it easier for him to stay in control. But he's still... he's still whoever he was before. Whatever issues he had, this isn't gonna get rid of them. It's just gonna hopefully make them a little easier to deal with. And we're gonna help, okay?"

Holding his gaze, she swallowed heavily again, hesitating, before she finally nodded, tears shining in her eyes. "Thank you." Her words came out quiet, small, barely above a whisper. "Thank you all."

Scott waved away her gratitude. "Don't—there's no need to thank us. We're just glad we could help."

"Yeah," Malia added, her hand finding his shoulder, squeezing. "Don't worry about it." His lips twitched at the forced casualness in her voice, and he reached up and clasped his hand over hers. "It was easy."

A hint of a smile touched Ashley's face as she slowly nodded. "Right. Easy. Got it." Pausing, she took a deep breath. "What—what happens now?" Her voice cracked, the good humour fading as quick as it had come, as her eyes moved to her brother. "Where do we go? What do we do?"

"I've actually been thinking about that," Scott replied, pursing his lips. Most of his focus had been on taking Bryan down, on getting everybody through that, and not on what came after. But a small part of his brain, the optimistic part that was always hopeful, always planning for the best possible outcome, had been giving it a little thought in the background. There weren't many places where two orphaned shifters could go, especially when one had serious control issues, had done terrible things, regardless of intent. Not many. But a few. At least one. "I think there's somebody who might be willing to take you guys in. Another Alpha who… sort of specialises in helping shifters with control issues."

Derek's eyes widened. "Satomi? You think she'd take them?"

Scott shrugged. "I don't know. I hope so. If anyone can help him, it's her. I'll reach out to Brett, see what he says, if he can put me in touch with her. No guarantees," he stressed, focusing on Ashley, making sure she understood. "Her pack was… they took some really heavy losses about a year ago, and it devastated them. I don't know if she'll want to bring anyone else in. But she's a good person. If I can convince her to at least meet with you guys…" He shrugged again, not liking how uncertain it all sounded, but fully aware it was their best option. "If she's willing, she can help. She can give you… give you something. Okay?"

Slowly, Ashley nodded. "What about tonight?" she asked, voice breaking again, and his heart went out to her. The emotional toll of everything was clearly weighing on her, and he didn't have to ask to know she was only hanging on by a thread at this point, just barely keeping it together. "Where do we go?"

"I'll stay here with the two of you." Derek shrugged when they all looked at him, gestured to the house. "Might as well just use this place for tonight. We're already here. I'll stay, keep an eye on him." He nodded at Bryan. "Just in case."

Scott held up his hand, shook his head. "Hey, you don't have to do that, man. This was my thing. I can stay."

There was no hesitation in his offer, but even he could hear the reluctance in his voice. There was nothing he wanted more than to go home, crawl into bed with Malia, and try to finally catch up on some of the sleep he'd missed out on lately. But he wasn't about to walk away from his responsibilities, not now. It had been his call to keep trying to bring Bryan down without killing him, and if that meant he had to spend the night babysitting him just to make sure it really was over and done with, so be it.

"No, no, I'll take care of it," Derek insisted, waving him off. "You've done your part. I'll take it from here."

From the look on his face, it was clear he was dead set on doing it. Biting his lip, Scott slowly nodded, then turned his attention to Ashley. "Are you okay with that?" After everything she'd been through, he wasn't about to make her stay with somebody she wasn't comfortable with. She didn't really know any of them, but she'd at least heard of him. Derek was a complete stranger. "If you want me to stay, I can."

"No, no," she said, shaking her head. "It's okay. You guys all helped. You came when I needed you. I—" She took a deep breath, eyes going to each of them in turn as a tiny smile twisted her lips. "I trust you all."

Touched by her admission, he nodded, before turning back to Derek and arching an eyebrow. "Are you sure? 'Cause I can—"

"I'm sure, Scott. Go home, get cleaned up, get some rest." Grinning, he reached out and clapped a hand to his shoulder. "You look like you could use it."

Scott snorted, ran his fingers through his hair. "I really could. But not yet. I need to make some calls first."

Deaton, Argent, Stiles and Lydia, the Sheriff, everybody needed to know the threat had been taken care of. Some for their peace of mind, some because they were still trying to track down the elusive wolfsbane. And then there were the arrangements for tomorrow, trying to get in contact with Satomi, set up something with her. It was going to involve a lot of talking, reliving this night, explaining things over and over, all of which felt incredibly exhausting. He was already on the verge of collapse, and that was only going to make it worse. But it needed to be done, so it would be.

"Do it in the car," Derek advised. "You look dead on your feet. By the time you get home, you're not gonna want to move, let alone talk to anybody."

While he was speaking, he took hold of the unconscious shifter by the arm, and began lifting him up off the ground. Scott quickly rose to his feet as Malia helped Ashley up, the three of them backing away, giving him space to work. Bryan's long limbs, height, and the fact he was completely deadweight made the whole operation look incredibly awkward, but he managed to get him up and keep him there without too much difficulty.

"You got him?" Scott asked, eyeing the two warily.

"I got him," Derek confirmed, once they were steady. "I'm gonna get him inside, lay him down. You guys are leaving?"

"Yeah."

"Okay. I'll call if anything happens. Let me know what Satomi says."

Scott nodded, before his attention was drawn by movement to his right. Without warning, Ashley turned and threw her arms around Malia, drawing her into tight hug. Caught off-guard, she patted the smaller girl's back awkwardly, shooting him a wide-eyed look as he grinned at her. His grin faded a second later when he was suddenly the target, small arms wrapped so tight around him it was almost painful. He could feel her shaking, and rubbed her back gently, letting her get everything out, her emotions finally getting the better of her.

"Thank you," Ashley whispered when she pulled away a moment later, dashing tears from her eyes with the back of her hand. "I don't—I can never repay this. You guys—thank you." Before he could even reply, she whirled on her heel and jogged off after Derek, who'd started back toward the house.

"Jesus," Malia muttered. "She's a lot stronger than she looks."

As they fell into step behind the others, Scott felt her fingers brush his arm, and flashed her a smile as he looped his arm over her shoulders. It felt good to hold her again, after the violence of the night. He could smell blood on her, but the scent was weak, not enough to indicate any serious injuries.

"You okay?" he murmured, pulling her close.

"I'm fine," she said, leaning against him as she slipped her arm around his waist. "How about you? He really nailed you a couple times."

"I'm okay." Even as he spoke, he grimaced and gingerly pressed his palm to his left side. "Ribs are a little sore," he admitted sheepishly when she shot him a look of disbelief. He'd taken a particularly hard shot to the side early on in the fight, had felt bone break, and now that the adrenaline was finally fading, the pain was coming back, made worse by the uneven ground below. But as painful as it was, it wasn't debilitating, would heal before long. "I'm good though. I'll be okay." He was silent for a second. "I'm a little tired."

She let out a little hum. "Long day."

"The longest. It's over now though." He took a deep breath, blew it out slowly. "We did it. We got it done."

"Never any doubt, right?" she asked, more than a hint of wryness in her voice.

Chuckling, he brushed a kiss against her temple and gave her shoulders a little squeeze. "Never." Another deep breath. "Let's go home."

Head bowed, Scott leaned against the wall and let the scalding hot water beat down over his back. His wounds had healed over night, scratches and scrapes sealed up, ribs whole once again, but there was some lingering stiffness in his muscles, just enough to make him slightly uncomfortable. The water was helping take care of that, fortunately, and washing away the remaining dirt and grime from the fight at the same time.

"Should have done this last night," he muttered, watching the red-tinged water swirl down the drain between his feet.

That had been his plan. Make his calls, go home, shower, then go to bed and finally get a little rest. After leaving the farmhouse, he'd reached out to everybody while Malia drove them back to his house, making sure they all knew the Cobb situation was handled, that they could relax. They all had questions, wanted to know exactly how it had gone down, how they'd managed to do it without the help of the wolfsbane, without losing anyone, and he'd done his best to explain. Then a call to Brett had gotten things going with Satomi, established contact, let her know the situation, and put the ball in her court. She wanted to take the night to decide how to proceed, and he thought that was more than fair.

By the time that was all taken care of, and he was home, the lure of sleep had just been too much to resist. Any thoughts of doing anything other than passing out were gone the second he stepped through the door. His memories were a little hazy, but he vaguely recalled having just enough foresight to strip off his dirty clothes before collapsing on his bed, out cold the second his head hit the pillow. He couldn't even remember feeling Malia join him, he'd been so out of it.

Eight hours later, fully rested, with the sun shining down and no threat hanging over the town, the people, his friends, he felt like a new man. All that optimism he'd been feeling yesterday, the hope he'd held onto, the light he'd refused to let fade felt earned, validated.

It didn't matter that he had no idea why things had ultimately worked out like they had. All that mattered was things had gone their way, the best possible outcome.

Preoccupied with his thoughts as he washed his hair, Scott wasn't aware he had company until he heard the curtain behind him move. As he rinsed the last of the shampoo away, he felt Malia get into the shower, and leaned back into her as she stepped up behind him and wrapped her arms around him. She ran her nails over his chest as she pressed herself against his back, and her lips gently brushed his neck. Once, twice, three times, slowly moving higher, until she reached his ear.

"Morning," she whispered.

"Good morning." Turning to face her, his hands went to her hips as she dropped her arms down around his waist, locked her fingers behind him. She'd clearly just woken up, a lazy smile curling her lips, and he couldn't resist going in for a kiss, soft and sweet. "I thought you were still sleeping," he murmured, taking a second to appreciate the sensation of her skin against his, the entire length of her body tight against his own.

"Bed was cold." Hooking her leg around his, she buried her face in the curve of his neck in an effort to get as close as humanly possible. He could feel her lips moving against his skin as she said, "Missed you." She kissed him again, lingering long enough to get his pulse up. "Missed this."

He let out an amused huff, gently bumped her nose with his. "Missed this? We haven't been doing enough of this?"

"Not nearly." He saw the hint of a teasing smile on her face, an instant before she pulled him in for a soft, slow kiss that somehow seemed to last both forever and not nearly long enough. "I'm thinking there's no such thing as enough," she murmured as she slowly slid her hands up and down his lower back, gently massaging. "Especially after yesterday morning. You know, when we were in bed. After we... talked." She pulled back just far enough for him to catch the playful light in her eyes. "You remember that, right?"

"You mean when I said—"

"Uh huh."

"And then you said—"

"Yep."

"It rings a bell," he replied, a husky edge to his voice, brought on by the kiss and the reminder. That was a conversation, a statement, a shining moment that was never going to fade from his mind. "I guess we were kinda busy after that, huh?"

Memories of a day spent in constant motion, following leads, hoping for a miracle flashed through his mind. There hadn't been a whole lot of time just for them, outside of a few stolen moments while they were waiting on one person or another. Beautiful, perfect, all of them, but entirely too short. Even after they'd stopped, in the hour before Ashley's desperate call had come in, they'd been too tired to do much but cuddle on the couch and watch tv.

"Just a bit."

"Well, we've got some time right now. And if we can get through the next few hours without the world ending, we'll have the rest of the weekend to do whatever you want."

"Whatever I want?" The suggestion in her tone was blatant, and it drew a physical reaction from him, one she must have felt, if the smug smile that abruptly appeared on her face was any indication. "I really like the sound of that."

What followed felt like exactly what he needed, what they both needed. Mouths came together, hands stroking skin, every movement, every action brimming with passion, but never frantic. With the hot water raining down around them, the steam filling the air, it felt like they were in their own world, separate from everything and everyone else, free to take the time to explore each other, to express their love physically in a way the circumstances of the last few days had made difficult. With those circumstances now a thing of the past, there was no worry, no stress, no pressing issue to intrude on them, no reason not to do things as slowly, as thoroughly as they wanted.

At least until he heard his phone go off, vibrating across the shelf where he'd left it.

It was all Scott could do not to laugh as he reluctantly pulled away from Malia and saw the sour look on her face. Not because it was funny, but because behind the annoyance, he could see the acceptance there too, reluctant though it was. They both knew he had to answer, with Satomi's decision still up in the air, and humour was better than anger. Still, that didn't make it any easier to stop, to calm down, to break apart.

"I'm sorry, Lia," he said softly, leaning in and pressing a kiss to her forehead. "No rest for the wicked, huh?"

"We didn't even get a chance to be wicked," she bit out.

This time, he did laugh, slowly shaking his head as he looked into her eyes, saw her fighting her own grin, his amusement contagious. "No, but that's the price we pay, I guess." She rolled her eyes, but her smile finally broke through, and there was no way he could have stopped himself from kissing her again, lingering, unwilling to break away.

"Go," she eventually said, gently pushing him away as she turned her head and drew in a deep breath. "Much more of that and I won't let you leave." Letting out an amused huff, he turned to leave, only to stop short when he felt her deliver an open-palmed smack to his ass. When he looked back at her, she just winked and mouthed, "Wicked."

Chuckling, he stepped out and closed the curtain behind him. She didn't follow him, so he assumed she wanted her own shower, had probably done the same as him last night. Quickly towelling off, he threw on the jeans and t-shirt he'd brought in with him, grabbed his phone, and headed out into his bedroom. A quick look at the latest message, from Derek, left him smiling.

— Satomi is here. She agreed to take the twins into her pack. They're leaving with her.

The relief he felt when he read that was intense. He knew there were no guarantees, knew she was still hurting from the loss of so much of her pack last year, was hesitant to add anybody new. If she'd said no, turned the Cobbs away, he wouldn't have blamed her, would have completely understood. He didn't know what he would have done in that case, who he could have turned to instead, but he wouldn't have held it against her. It wasn't an easy thing to just accept new members into your pack, regardless of the circumstances. But she was willing to try, to bring them in, to work with them. He couldn't have asked for more.

Just to be sure, he sent a quick text back asking if he was needed there. Before he could even set his phone down, he got the response, a simple 'No, all good'. Then it was a group text to the rest of the pack to keep them all in the loop, and that was it.

It was all over. It felt like a weight had been lifted off his chest. He wanted to celebrate.

When Malia emerged from the bathroom a few moments later, clad only in a towel, he was waiting for her. She let out a little surprised squeak when he picked her up, but it quickly morphed into laughter as he spun her around and sat her down on his dresser. Stepping between her legs, he claimed her lips in a heated kiss that left them both breathless, gasping for air.

"I'm guessing that was good news," she managed to get out once her breathing was back under control.

"Great news," he replied, grinning. "Satomi took the twins. It's over."

It took a minute for what he was saying to sink in. "It's over," she repeated, the words coming out half-way between a question and a statement. Then, slowly, her lips curled into a bright smile, whole face lighting up. "It's over?"

"Yep. Derek texted. Satomi showed up to meet the twins. I guess she liked what she saw, because she agreed to help them." He threw up his hands, shrugged. "It's over. We did it."

"So, we don't have to go deal with anything now?" He shook his head. "We're done?" He nodded. "Nothing else to worry about?"

"Well, I mean, Peter's still in town. We should probably—"

"Ah, ah," she interjected, waving her hand dismissively. "Forget about that asshole for now. We can deal with him later. What I mean is…" Reaching out, she fisted both hands into the front of his shirt and pulled him in close, expression serious, eyes locked on his. "The Cobbs are taken care of. There are no other real threats. We've got nowhere we need to be. Nobody's waiting for us. Right?"

"That's right."

"Well, then." The heat in her gaze was almost a physical force, hit him right in his gut, had his mind and pulse racing in an instant. "What was it you said? Whatever I want? What do you think about this?"

Leaning up, she started whispering in his ear, laying out exactly how she wanted to spend the rest of the weekend. He held his breath, listening to her words, felt himself react to them, an inevitable response to the blatant desire in her voice, her scent. But it wasn't just that. It was also the way she felt pressed against him, still damp from the shower. The way her fingers absently caressed his arm as she spoke, gently tracing up and down.

Even then, with his mind clouded by her, all his attention on what she was saying, on the promise in her voice, he couldn't help but think about how much he loved her. How she made his life better just by being in it. The way she'd supported him over the last week, backed him at every turn, fought at his side. The simple things, the little moments they'd spent together, eating, relaxing, just talking. The depth of understanding she'd shown for him, for who he was, the way he was, the choices he made. She knew him, knew him better than he'd even been known before, and the knowledge that she wanted him just as much as he wanted her, in every possible way, was incredible, humbling.

One night. It was just supposed to be one night. One night to be together, give each other what they'd been missing. But it had turned into so much more. It was so much more. It was everything.

She was everything.

Lost in his thoughts, it took him a second to realise when she stopped talking and drew back. For a second, he stared at her, at the look on her face, half-expectant, half-impatient, waiting for his response. A response he didn't have, because as enticing as her words had been, he had something more, something bigger on his mind. Something he needed to say.

Slowly, he reached up, gently took her face in his hands. "I love you, Malia." Her expression softened with his fervent declaration as he gently stroked her cheeks with his thumbs. "I love you so much."

"I love you too." Silence fell between them as they gazed into each other's eyes, neither wavering, open, vulnerable, both seeing exactly what they were, what they meant to the other. Another moment he'd never forget, staring at her, knowing he was looking at his future, nothing more to say because nothing needed to be said. It was just implicitly understood. Until she suddenly arched an eyebrow, corner of her mouth quirking up in a little smile, a clear challenge. "So, my plan… what do you think?"

He grinned.

"I'm all yours."

AN: There it is. Not exactly how I was planning on ending this story, but after two years, I just had to suck it up and finish it. There are a bunch of other projects I've started working on, only to get distracted by this still sitting here, unfinished. For my own peace of mind, I needed to wrap it up. And now I have. Hope you all enjoyed it.