I'm still alive! Hope you guys enjoy the late, late, resolution to this arc.

Well maybe it is a sign. A sign that ours is a great love story. 'Cause what's a great love story without obstacles to overcome? Every fairy tale has them. Terrible trials that only the worthy can transcend –

She was always warned as a kid not to shower during thunderstorms, but she hadn't particularly cared this evening.

Her hair is dripping onto the t-shirt she's now clad in (the one of his he's let her keep) as she dabs her towel over it.

The strong scent of the dye is still fresh two days later.

When she reaches the door frame, he's sitting at the foot of the bed, something in his hands – it takes her a second to recognize it as the necklace.

Helen's necklace.

Sucking in a quick breath, she walks over to sit beside him and he finally looks up.

"You...wanna talk about it?" she manages.

He runs his fingers along the pendant. "I'm not particularly sure that's a good idea, Annie."

She nods, conceding and understanding his point – but he needs to understand that it's okay.

"I don't want you to feel like –" She pauses, takes a moment to try to formulate a coherent sentence through her muddled thoughts. "You don't have to hide the fact that you're hurting –even if it is over someone else."

And she remembers waking up in that hospital bed, scared and confused – putting the pieces together over Lena, and the fact that Simon had sacrificed himself for her.

It was Auggie who'd quieted her sobs, who provided her solace and given her strength when she all she had left was anger.

"I spoke to her, you know," she continues after a moment. "When you sent her to find me. She wanted to come in – she wanted her life back. I – I'm really sorry she never got that chance."

"Me too," he answers, quietly.

She settles a bit closer to him and links their fingers together.

"I wasn't fair to her. When she and I talked after we –" He stops and clears his throat. "I knew I couldn't give her what she wanted."

He sighs. "Not when I was still in love with you."

Forcing himself to angle his head to her, he tries to gauge her reaction when he's met with silence.

"She told me that too," she finally breathes, squeezing his hand.

"Why didn't you come see me?" he asks. "When you first got back to D.C."

He's greeted with silence once again, save for the sound of the storm still raging outside – and it's not like he doesn't already know the answer on some level, or at least hopes he does.

But he wants the words.

"I – for the same reason I didn't accept Calder's protocol when I left. I couldn't risk putting you in danger."

He shakes his head. "I didn't need protection, Annie...What I needed, was you. I would have taken that risk."

"But I couldn't!" she says, almost angrily now, and it makes his head snap to face her again. "I am sorry for leaving. I am sorry for what it did to us. But I would have rather lost us than you. If it meant keeping you safe."

"Don't ask me to be sorry for that," she finishes on a soft hiccup.

His heart constricts at her words, the desperation and pleading behind them.

He'd accepted the reasons why she did what she did, can understand the need she felt to protect those around her, though when Calder had told him she refused the protocol, and again when she'd returned, that she hadn't wanted to reach out to him –– it had cut through him so fiercely it was hard to even breathe.

He'd truly felt he'd lost her.

And though he'd made a promise to himself long ago, that he'd never leave this woman behind – leave her alone, he can't deny that in her shoes, if it meant saving her, he would've.

"Shh," he soothes, reaching to pull her into his chest, and he can feel the moisture from her eyes on his shoulder as he's murmuring into her hair.

"I won't," he promises, knowing right now she needs the assurance that she hasn't lost him.

She hadn't allowed herself to cry since – well, since Simon.

Confused and weak, with a hole in her chest, finding out yet again the life of someone else she'd cared deeply for had been stripped away from her.

She'd steeled herself after that, letting her hatred and quest for justice – retribution, drive her.

Once again, Auggie's the one here now with open arms when she finally lets it all go; anchoring her as she allows the last year of hurt and heartache to catch up to her. (And wasn't she supposed to be comforting him?)

She's not sure how long they stay like that, her tucked into side, as he traces circles over her back, but after sometime she notices the quiet.

The storm's stopped.

There's a tiny breath released on her end when he feels her pull away to raise her head to him.

"Do you remember what you said when showed up that night in the rain?"

"Something about taking the wrong bus?" he jokes, earning the desired response when he can just tell she's rolling her eyes, and that there's a smirk tugging at her lips.

"That," she concedes, "and about nothing be certain for people like us."

He hums an affirmation in response.

"I think you were wrong."

His eyes widen in question, and he waits for her to continue.

"I've always been sure of you," she breathes. "From the moment we met. That I could trust you – count on you. And later on, of how I felt about you."

She tilts his cheek towards her. "We're what I'm sure of."

"Annie–"

"I know you felt that way once too," she continues, cutting him off.

"You told me you've wanted this – me, since I walked into your life. I carried that with me, Auggie. Hoping, praying – that when I –" She inhales. "That when it was all over, that you'd still be sure. Because when you really love someone –"

"Those bonds never really go away," he finishes on a whisper, a smile forming as he leans his forehead to hers.

"You still sure of that?" He hears the unspoken, of me in the way her voice cracks.

"More than ever, Walker," he vows, his thumb running along the side of her face.

Then he kisses her, or she kisses him.

He sighs contently into her mouth, the slow and languid movement of their lips making him feel like he's the one that's coming home.

It's slow and perfect, like they're getting to know each other, like that first night all over again – full of promise and hope, as they explore and touch.

Venturing into a new beginning together, letting go of the pain of the past, to embrace the future.

Their future.

And this time when she wakes, happy and warm and at peace in his arms, she makes sure the first words out of her mouth, are 'I love you.'

But you can't give up. That's the deal. We want the happy ending...we can't give up.–Richard Castle.❤