Waking up in his arms had been, perhaps, the single greatest moment in her life. By the steady rise and fall of his stomach, El could tell he was still fast asleep, so she chose to revel in his warm embrace for a few minutes longer. She had been thinking hard about what they were going to do, ever since the moment he threw his arms around her on the boardwalk.

"Was that really just yesterday afternoon?" she wondered.

In truth, she had been thinking about it for much longer, twelve years now, but she had always relegated the thoughts to that portion of the brain reserved for foolish hopes and dreams. Believing he could actually come back into her life had just hurt too much, so she had kept the thoughts at a safe distance. But now he was here; fate or the universe or God himself had brought them together, and she couldn't lose him, not again. Her father wasn't going to like what she had come up with, but she wasn't a child anymore and she had some say in what was going to happen.

"Good morning," Mike said, shaking her out of her moment of peace. She looked up to see his smiling face beaming down at her, and she decided maybe this now took first place for best moments.

He leaned forward, as she rolled to one side and raised up on an elbow, their lips meeting in the middle. Neither was quite sure how long they sat like that, but the moment was broken by the gruff clearing of a throat in the hallway.

"Good morning, don't mind me," Hank said as he made his way to the kitchen. "Just going to start on some breakfast."

Laughing through flushed cheeks, like teenagers caught doing something far more inappropriate, they shared one more kiss before getting up and heading to the kitchen themselves. While Hank started a pot of coffee, El pulled a carton of eggs from the fridge, and a fresh box of Eggos from the freezer.

"Do you want to toast or scramble?" she asked, turning to Mike.

"Unless you want eggs that are burnt, but also still runny somehow, probably better leave me on toaster duty."

El laughed, handing Mike the familiar yellow box. As they cooked and sat down to eat, the trio kept the conversation light. None of them were ready to face the looming questions they had to answer. Finally, with a deep breath, it was El who got the ball rolling.

"I've given this a lot of thought," she started, "and I think I want to go back to Chicago with Mike."

A shocked smile spread across Mike's face. He was overjoyed that she wanted to be in his life so badly she was willing to pick up and move away from the place that had been home for the last decade. Still, an apprehension quickly followed, knowing what an enormous risk she would be taking if she came. A crestfallen look washed over Hank's face. It was exactly what he had been expecting, but that didn't take away any of the sting. El looked from one man to the other, waiting for one to speak.

"You're not my little girl any more, you're an adult now, so it's your decision," Hank started, swallowing a lump in his throat. "But I have to tell you, I think you'd be taking a huge chance in going back so close to home."

El appreciated that he wasn't trying to talk her out of it, or outright telling her no, so she looked expectantly at Mike.

"Actually," Mike began, slowly, "I don't think you should come back with me."

The look of hurt and betrayal that fell over her was instantaneous. Had she misread everything that had happened in the last day? Did he not really want her in his life? She could feel the tears starting to sting at the corners of her eyes and she fought hard to hold them back.

Reaching out and taking her hand in his, Mike continued. "El, that's not what I meant. I want to be with you more than anything. All I meant is that I don't think Chicago would be safe for you. I'm almost positive the lab, or whoever they are now, are still keeping tabs on me. It doesn't happen as much as it used to, but there will still be days when I pick up on weird clicks in the phone line during a call, or people on the street trying really hard not to look like they are watching me. It's never been a secret that going through me would be a potential route for them to find you."

El felt a little better hearing that, knowing Mike's hesitation had nothing to do with not wanting her around, and everything to do with protecting her like he had always tried to do. It also made her feel better that the fears she and her father had lived with for the last twelve years hadn't been for nothing; the people who had been looking for her then, were still looking for her now.

"So what do we do, then?" she asked, anxious to know what Mike's plan might be.

"I've been thinking, what if I moved out here?" he offered.

This time it was Hank who threw out an immediate objection. "If you're really being watched, it's not going to take them long to figure out what's going wrong when Mike Wheeler suddenly packs up and moves from Chicago out to some nowhere town on the Washington coast."

"What if Mike Wheeler wasn't the one who moved out here?" Mike asked, catching both of them off guard.

They stared back in hopeful curiosity, wondering just where he was going with the idea.

"I've been planning for twelve years just what I would do if I ever found you again. I knew there may only be one shot to get it right, so when the moment came, I would be ready."

For the next fifteen minutes, Mike laid out his plans and careful preparations. El sat transfixed at the amount of thought he had put into it all; where she had pushed plans into the world of wishful thinking, Mike had been planning things out as an inevitable eventuality. Even Hank had to admit, once the explanations were complete, that it was a good idea that presented very little risk.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" he asked, reminding Mike that it would mean giving up all contact to family and friends and anything else about his current life.

"I'm more sure of this than anything," Mike countered. "I already don't see much of the family anymore. Mom, Dad and Holly are down in Tennessee, and that's only for a couple more years until she goes off to college, then they already have plans to move to New Mexico. Nancy's out in New York. As for the guys, they're all over the map too. Other than that, work was the only thing tying me to Chicago and I am more than willing to walk away from that."

As fast as the breakfast dishes could be washed and put away, the plans were settled and Mike was ready to put everything into action. A quick shower and change of clothes, and he was ready to hit the road. El walked with him to the garage and pulled him into a tight embrace, afraid that if she let him go, he might somehow slip away from her forever.

"I promise, I will be back in a few days. And this time, it's for good. Enjoy it now, because you'll never be rid of me again after that."

She couldn't help but give a small laugh and she wiped a tear from the corner of her eye.

"I love you Mike," she said, kissing him just one more time before he could get in the car.

"I love you too, El. I really do."

As Mike pulled onto the highway and started back to the airport, he switched his mind to the task at hand and started running through everything he had to do in the next few days. While he waited to board his fight back to Chicago, he placed a quick call to the Pacific View Inn to tell them he regretted the inconvenience, but he would be unable to make the meeting he had planned with them tomorrow. Back home in his small apartment, Mike pulled out the two suitcases he kept stashed in the closet, ready for just this occasion. He quickly packed the clothing he planned to take, along with a few personal effects he couldn't leave behind. Tucked carefully in among those was Mike's own copy of the photo taken at the Snow Ball so many years before. As he looked around, Mike was surprised to realize how little he actually cared to take with him. He had spent many years now living a very simple existence, far below the kind of money he had actually been making. The belongings that wouldn't fit into the suitcases would be dealt with by his landlord in a month or two when his rent went past-due.

As he sat the kitchen table, picking at a frozen TV dinner, Mike set to work erasing his laptop. He wanted to be sure no trace of Mike Wheeler remained on the machine since he was bringing it along. As the computer hummed away, re-installing software from the original factory disks, Mike finished a few more housekeeping details in his plan. Opening his wallet, he took out everything but the cash, drivers license and credit card, dropping the rest into the trash. His library card, voter's registration and a half-finished coffee shop punch-card all dropped into the bin, erasing just a little bit more of his old life. Pulling out two sheets of blank paper, Mike wrote a couple final notes to people who needed to know at least part of what was going on.

Nancy,
The thing we always discussed has happened. I'm going forward with what we planned. Please help Mom, Dad and Holly to understand. In case this really is goodbye for good, I just want to thank you for being an amazing big sister. There's no way I would have gotten through this without you. Be happy for me. Be happy for us.
I love you,
Mike

He read over it again and knew no matter how much he put, it would never be enough to tell Nancy just how much her help had meant to him. The next note was easier, as it was only a pointer to a more detailed letter he had written several years before.

Craig,
I know this isn't going to make much sense, but I have to disappear. In my top desk drawer, there is a longer letter of explanation, as well as the necessary legal documents, signed and dated, handing over my 50%, giving you full ownership and control of the company. I want to assure you, this is something to do with my personal life, and has nothing to do with the company. I really can't thank you enough for your years of friendship and I regret that I can't do this in person, but time is of the essence right now.
Mike Wheeler

Satisfied with his final correspondence, Mike took the time to empty anything perishable out of the fridge and cupboards and hauled out the garbage for one last time. His landlord had always been friendly, and the last thing he wanted to do was leave too big a mess to be dealt with when he skipped town. Finally, exhausted, Mike collapsed into his bed for the last time. How may nights had he lay awake, wondering where she was and praying she was safe? Now he knew exactly where she was, and he was counting the seconds until he could get back to her. He forced himself to put the thoughts aside, knowing he needed a good night's sleep; he had a very long day or two ahead, depending on how his flights stacked up.

Waking early the next morning, Mike checked he had everything packed and gave the apartment a final walk-through. Locking up on his way out, he took a moment to stuff the key back under the door where the landlord would find it when he finally entered the apartment. Stopping by the office before anyone was in, Mike signed and dated the documents signing over his stake in the company he had helped to build, placing them carefully back in his desk drawer where he had indicated they would be. While most people would hesitate at signing over that kind of money, Mike knew something much more valuable was awaiting him. After locking up the office, Mike tucked Craig's note, along with his office key, in an envelope and dropped them back through the mail slot where they would be found a few hours later. In the building's lobby, Mike dropped Nancy's note into the outgoing mail slot, and headed for the airport.

Phase two of his escape plan had to be carefully orchestrated. He would have liked a few more hops for safety, but he needed to be gone right away. After checking the envelope he had tucked in the outer pocket of his carry-on bag, Mike walked up to the ticket counter and purchased a round-trip ticket to Atlanta, Georgia, knowing full well he wouldn't be making use of the ticket home. A few hours later, after collecting his bags from the luggage carousel, Mike found a quiet corner to swap a few things around in his wallet. The driver's license and credit card were tucked away in an envelope in the lining of his bag, the only remnant of Mike Wheeler that would be coming with him. In their place, he tucked a fake id and a thin stack of cash needed for his next jump.

Jake Erickson zipped his bags shut again and, tucking the wallet into his back pocket, stepped onto the escalator leading back up to ticketing. Picking a new airline at random, he bought a one-way ticket up the coast to Newark, New Jersey, opting for another busy airport where he could blend into the crowds. After four hours, one mechanical delay and a slice of something the airline claimed was lasagna, Jake collected his suitcases from baggage claim, and went through the routine again. Selecting another license from the carefully packed envelope and refreshing the stack of cash, Charlie Baker headed for ticketing again. On the way, he dropped Jake's license, ticket stub and luggage tags into one of the many garbage cans he passed. Soon enough, he was seated in the passenger lounge, waiting for his flight to Denver, Colorado.

Another flight and another poor excuse for a meal later, Charlie sat in the dim corridors of the Denver airport. It had been a long day, and though he would be able to buy a ticket tonight, it would be tomorrow morning before he was able to fly out. While a night on the hard-plastic seats wasn't ideal, anything that brought him closer to El was worth the neck cramps. After throwing away Charlie Baker's id, he reached into the envelope and pulled out the final set of identification. Mark Anderson slipped his Michigan drivers license into his wallet, along with the brand new Visa sitting beside it in the envelope. It was an identity crafted much more carefully than Jake or Charlie had been, and it had started many years before.

While Mike Wheeler was finishing up the senior year of his Computer Science degree, Mark Anderson had been attending evening classes across town working on the Accounting major Mike Wheeler hadn't found challenging enough. A few years later, while Mike Wheeler was quickly growing a promising software business, Mark quietly received his diploma, which was carefully tucked away, should it be needed someday. Alongside the diploma were a social security card and birth certificate, both valid and registered in the proper systems. While Mike Wheeler had earned a healthy salary as his software business took off, he had spent only the bare minimum on necessities and sent the rest of the money off-shore to the Caribbean; if it was good enough for Wall Street bigwigs to hide their fortunes, it was good enough for him. After sending the money though a second account, it was brought back into the country in an account in Mark Anderson's name, slowly building interest until it was needed.

After a seemingly endless night of tossing and turning on the airport benches, Mark was pretty sure he would have slept better on the floor of El's cave. Still, he reminded himself, it was all going to be worth it. One final flight and he was back in Washington, barely 48 hours since he had last flown out. Taking a taxi from the airport, Mark's first stop was a used car lot he had scoped out on his way out of town two days earlier. After picking out a modest silver four-door without too many miles, he surprised the salesman when he paid cash for the vehicle, laying down the $100 bills one at a time. When the time came to fill out the licensing paperwork, Mark slid an additional $100 bill to the salesman.

"I'll fill out the rest, sign and date it right now. How about I call you in a day or two with the address and you can fill that in."

Eyeing Mark suspiciously before pocketing the bribe, he nodded. "I can delay the paperwork a few days. If I don't hear from you by then, I have to rip all this up and report the car stolen. You understand, right?"

"Of course," Mark nodded. "A few days should be more than enough."

Keys in hand, Mark headed for the coast. Next step was a place to live. He agreed with Hank that Clear Brook was too small of a town to just show up in. Fortunately, about 10 minutes south along the coast was the city of Ocean Shores. With a population of 6000 people, it was a sprawling metropolis compared to tiny Clear Brook. By dinner time that night, Mark had secured a one-bedroom apartment just a few blocks off the beach and a job, on a trial basis, with a small office in town that handled bookkeeping and payroll for several of the hotels and restaurants in town.

Exhausted and in need of a good meal, Mark knew there was only one place to go. Driving the short stretch up the coast, he couldn't help but wonder just how many times he would be driving the route in the years to come. Parking in the quiet gravel lot, Mark locked his car and walked inside, passing the "Please Seat Yourself" sign and settling into a familiar corner booth overlooking the docks. His back was to the waitress as she approached his booth.

"Coffee?" she asked, a hint of sadness in her voice.

"Please," he said with a smile. "And how about a club sandwich," he said, looking up and watching the smile spread across her beautiful face. "My friend says they're her favorite here."

A/N: And so we come to the end of our tale. When this idea first came to me, I was only envisioning a one, or maybe two chapter story. Thankfully, it blossomed into more than that, but my arc was always to get them back to their life together. I won't write off the idea of a sequel, if a proper story comes to me, but I don't have anything right now. I also can't promise anything, as it is only a few small ideas so far, but I am kicking around thoughts of a prequel of El and Hopper's early years on the run.

I'd just like to say a huge thanks to everyone who has left reviews and/or PMs for this story. They really do mean a great deal to me and help pull me through moments of writer's-block.