Hi everyone! Here's a fic I've been brainstorming since the finale. I plan to continue it for quite some time while we wait (not so patiently) for season 3. I want to give a special thank you to my Tomchel family who I couldn't survive the wait without, especially Ana who always lets me bounce ideas off of her, helps me brainstorm and just generally keeps me sane ;) I hope you enjoy the story. Please leave a review!

Disclaimer: I don't own The Last Ship, unfortunately. But if I did, this would happen…

CHAPTER 1: Lost Then Found

"I could not tell you if I loved you the first moment I saw you, or if it was the second or third or fourth. But I remember the first moment I looked at you walking toward me and realized that somehow the rest of the world seemed to vanish when I was with you." - Cassandra Clare, Clockwork Prince

"Find me," he commanded deeply, full of desire and complete certainty. It was his last attempt to show how he felt, trying to hold her there just a moment longer. His eyes pierced her as they communicated the way they always had, no words, just one look. Even from the beginning, it was all they had ever needed. When they looked at one another, the rest of the world fell away. She took in his words, her heart fluttering at recognizing the depth and weight of their meaning. Then, she met his gaze, giving him, not just a smile, but with it, hope. It was confirmation for them both. He would get ready and wait and then, she would find him, the way he'd found his way into her heart that had forever been closed off to anything but science. She turned to walk toward her room on the other side of the floor, swaying her hips with the excitement of this realization and, more importantly, to leave him with one last glimmer of hope for a future.

Tom watched as Rachel slinked away from him down the hallway. Every part of him wanted to bring her back, to feel her closeness again, to show her he wasn't ready for her to leave and he never would be now, not after all they'd been through. The threat of the virus and the race to find the cure had thrown the two unlikely individuals together and now it seemed their worlds were forever entwined. She anchored him in this new world order. However, with Darien's death and his position, it wasn't time. It was too soon. Wasn't it? No, he couldn't do it… Not yet at least. Just not now. That didn't stop him from stealing one last longing glance at the doctor pacing from him with a deliberate and hopeful swing of her hips. She was the woman who had made him weak at the knees in that black dress and always in her jeans.

He entered his dark room, breathing deeply as he set down his cap on the dresser. With every step he took, he became more aware that she wasn't with him and even more aware that wasn't what he wanted. Even on the ship, she hadn't always been with him but he felt her presence. She was always there: in the lab when he needed to talk, always ready to give her opinion in the ward room, passing him with a smile in the hallway, eating with the leadership crew on the mess deck, bringing him tea he could barely stomach on deck at night but with it she brought herself, and that was more than enough. Now she was leaving and the thought made his heart ache.

He hadn't wanted to admit his feelings so soon after Darien's death on the ship. He hadn't even realized them himself. When they'd kissed, when they'd hugged, or just when he'd passed her in the hallway he had felt the undeniable pull between them. He thought it was just lust out of loneliness maybe. Then he had thought it must have been grief and he tried to protect himself. Yet when she'd killed Sorenson, he'd realized the true source of his anger. As a military man, he was furious. He demanded protocol and order on his ship as a means to survival. But as Tom Chandler, the man, his anger stemmed from much deeper depths - anger that she lied to him even if it was an attempt to keep blood off of his hands, anger that she had broken his trust, anger that he'd pushed her away directly toward Sorenson, anger that she made him want her by simply existing, and anger that he had to punish her when every fiber of his heart fought him on it. It was then his feelings became abundantly clear. He'd forgiven her well before, but it was the feelings he was trying to ignore that had kept her at arm's length in the past few weeks.

Yet, with Rachel leaving, he couldn't ignore the wanting feeling creeping into his heart for her now that she wouldn't be merely a few doors away. His resolve was wavering already and his head was warring with his heart to determine if he should finish what they'd started in the hallway... what they'd started with the hug they'd shared the night she found the cure... the night she'd kissed him with so with life depending passion on the Vyerni... or the night she'd told him the truth about her mission. Just one hug, one kiss goodbye... just so she'd know he had meant what he said. She needed to find him for good when she got back. Because she'd found her way into his heart; after tonight, he was sure of it.

Moving toward the bed, he tried, and failed, to distract himself. He turned on the lamp and set the letter down, deep in thought. Tom was about to take off his dress uniform when curiosity got the better of him. His eyes found the letter on the dresser and his hands followed suit. He looked at the curve of the letters she had written. His formal name, "Captain Chandler" written with such care across the envelope and a swooping, dainty line framed it beneath. His fingers brushed the script as if just the letters she'd written held a piece of her. Tom had never been this sentimental. But after losing Darien, after seeing how quickly life could change, he didn't want to waste a single moment. He willingly gave in. Resolving himself to read her letter and then, no matter what, he would find her before she left.

His fingers slid under the envelope to open it. He pulled out the epidemiological models Rachel had prepared for the president but it was the small white note folded neatly inside that caught his attention. He found his name, "Tom," written in cursive on the outside of the small white paper. The paper reminded him of her. Small and dainty but hiding a wealth of information and mystery within. His stomach clenched with nerves and excitement as he opened the intimate note meant just for him.

xxxxx

Meanwhile...

The ceiling blearily came into view. Reason slowly began making its appearance in her brain as breath came back into her chest. However, it was the shaking shock and fiery pain in her shoulder brought her back to reality all too quickly. How could she have been so blind? To think she was actually happy she didn't have guards anymore.

She was so close to Tom's room. He was there; only a few steps away. Could she make it? She thought as she tried and failed to turn her head to look around the corridor. But her vision blurred and the pain in her shoulder became even more excruciating. She pulled up her knees, partly because the pain couldn't let her stay still and partly to see if she had the energy to push herself to find help. But with one pushing stretch of her legs, a pain shot through her body causing a high-pitched gasping cry to escape her lips.

Rachel knew there was no way she could move herself. The only hope she had was that someone, anyone, would find her. She thought about screaming but if the shooter was still around, he would surely come to finish the job he had started. She felt her strength waning but forced herself to keep pressure on the wound. She tried to ignore the nausea and dizziness that overtook her as she pushed her shoulder hard into the ground, trying to stop the blood pulsing out of both the entry and exit wounds.

She tried her best to keep her eyes open and prayed someone heard the shot... that he heard the shot. She just wished she would have stayed...

They both had sensed they weren't ready, or so she thought. She could tell he hadn't wanted her to leave but she knew she had to leave it up to him, to give him time to grieve and to see if he'd completely forgiven her. Even though, so much of her had stood there wanting him to reach out and enfold her in his arms the way he had before... To grasp him tightly as he molded her to his body, intimately bending his head into her so she felt his hot breath and lips brush against her neck once more.

She felt a chill run through her body as the pain surged once again through her chest. Though she was never one to cry, tears began to sting her eyes from the fear and pain that began to overwhelm her as she was slowly slipping into shock. She realized the chances someone would make it in time were slim to none. She'd been hurt before, shot even, but never like this. She tried to tell herself it wasn't that bad. She had saved the world, doing what no one else could. But it couldn't be her time yet, she thought. No situation gave you more time to reflect than when it could be too late. She still had so much more to do. More people to save, more time to spend with the people who had recently become not just friends but family, loved ones. More time with a man she would give her life for willingly... and that just might be what she did.

She continued to fight the urge to give into the weakness that was slowly overtaking her, using all her strength to staunch the blood and pray harder than she ever had that she would get the chance to continue the work she had devoted her life to and to get the chance to go back to the family she had discovered over the past months... to the people, the place, and the man with whom, for the first time in her life, she felt home.

xxxxx

"Dear Tom," the letter began. He smiled as he heard her voice speaking every word. "I need you to know..." he started to read the curving letters but stopped short.

A loud popping boom broke his focus instantly. Captain Thomas Chandler would recognize that deadly sound anywhere. Within a millisecond he had lunged from his seated position on the bed, retrieved his firearm from his nightstand drawer and prepared to face whatever lay beyond the other side of the door.

He emerged stealthily from his room, sweeping the hallway with his eyes and extended handgun. The shot had sounded far too close, he knew whatever damage it had inflicted must be near, just like the shooter. Tom was about to begin a thorough sweep of his side of the large third floor when the stairwell door was flung open.

His gun was as quickly lowered as it had been raised at the gun-toting figure emerging through the door when he recognized Danny with Halsey following at his heels.

"Captain," the Lieutenant began, lowering his gun at the recognition of his senior officer. "You heard it too?"

"Yes, it sounded close enough to be on this floor," Tom answered as the two men moved in tandem down the hallway.

Danny answered with a whisper, "Halsey was going crazy so I was bringing him up to the room. Then we heard it from the stairwell."

"Then if the shooter was on this floor, their either still here or took the south stairwell since you didn't see them. We'll sweep this floor then split up," Tom directed.

The two men and expertly trained canine moved against the wall as they came to the corner of the hallway. With his hands, Tom signaled that he would clear the hallway before they exposed themselves. He emerged around the corner with his gun trained toward any possible threat. His eyes followed the barrel of his handgun to take in the view but it quickly dropped down to his side as the vision registered in his mind, it was Rachel. He recognized her laying on the floor and immediately knew something was wrong.

"Rachel?" he asked in shock and panic.

"Oh God," Danny whispered behind him, as he finally saw what the Captain's eyes were glued to.

"Rachel!" Tom continued to scream as adrenaline allowed his feet to fly him down the hallway with superhuman speed. He dropped to the ground beside her mid-run, his knees hitting the floor with a painful thud but he felt nothing. He set his firearm on the floor carefully and moved to lean closer to the nearly unconscious doctor. His heart was racing and his stomach began knotting violently as realization dawned on him. He saw the crimson blood covering the black lace of her dress and her delicate hands, her dimming eyes and the translucent white pallor of her face. "Rachel? Rachel?" he spoke frantically as his now shaking hands reached for her – one on her face and one hovering over her own blood-covered hand, scared to touch her and inflict more pain.

Danny was immediately behind his Captain with Halsey at his heels. "She's been shot," Tom said, his words dripping with unbelief. "Get Doc Rios, now!" Tom shouted the order but Danny was already halfway back down the hallway, his Navy Seal training taking over. "And secure the building! No one leaves!" he yelled after the man.

He immediately turned his attention back to his main priority. "Rachel?" he breathed.

"To.." she tried weakly. His touch and screaming had made her pull herself out the weakness overwhelming her. "Tom?" she breathed more fully, hopefully and needfully as she realized her help was finally here. Her eyes focused intensely on him, studying his face

"Hey..." he whispered as happily as the situation would allow, hopeful that she was cognizant enough to recognize him. "I'm here." She managed a small smile at his words, her prayers had been answered but she hoped it wasn't too late.

"You found me," thankfulness and hope overpowered the pain in her voice.

"Of course I did," Tom answered without missing a beat, eliciting a small but powerful smile from her lips.

"Pressure, keep pressure on the wound," the doctor in her said with labored breathing as she saw his hand hovering over her own.

He pressed his hand firmly but gently onto her own which covered the wound. She couldn't help the pained cry that fell over her lips from the sting it brought. His heart clenching at the sound of her in pain.

"Immunes," she tried to speak, knowing he needed to know in case she didn't make it. She wanted to continue, to tell him it was the man in the crowd but Tom could see how much pain the effort was causing. He nodded with understanding, cutting her off.

"We'll get them, Rach. Don't you worry," he said, directed as much to himself as it was to her. His hand swept gently over her hair as he saw the sweat beads forming on her face.

Another surge of pain swept through her, causing her breath to catch in her throat. Tom could see the agony on her face and he knew she was fading. He couldn't let that happen, especially now. He wouldn't let the virus and it's aftermath take away anymore from him.

"Rios and Mullowsky are on their way. I just need you to hold on, okay?" he spoke trying to reassure her, but he couldn't hide the pleading in his voice.

She tried to nod as she spoke, "You know how stubborn I am." She gave a small grin, her eyes never leaving his as they were both brought back to when it was her turn to save him in the medbay.

"I'm counting on that," he echoed her earlier words to him with a nod, his heart surging that she was still awake and aware enough to even make a joke. She managed a weak chuckle before her face contorted from the pain it brought and it turned into a painful cough that overtook her. He could see she was trying to hide it, trying to be strong as always. But he could see the pain wash across her face with every labored breath she took. He looked around the hallway, still uneasy about the far too open surroundings. Where was Danny? He thought impatiently. He knew it would hurt her but he had to secure her, not knowing what threats still remained.

"Rachel," he began, "Rachel, I'm sorry but I have to move you. I can't risk keeping you here in case they come back." Dread came over her face but she knew he was right. She feared the inevitable pain that was to come but she trusted him with her life and she would do anything for him. She nodded as she closed her eyes, bracing for the increase in pain that would certainly come.

He reached for her room key that was resting only a few feet from her on the floor and placed it in his right hand, looking around once more for an impending threat. He looked down at her again, his heart constricting as he saw the pain evident on her delicate features. He couldn't lose her, and he promised himself he wouldn't. Resolve overwhelming him, he moved to pick her up as gently as he could.

"Come here," he said as his arms scooped underneath her tiny frame. His left arm rested under her knees and brought them to him. His right arm scooped as gently as he could under her shoulders, placing pressure on the exit wound on her back. Her left arm slowly made its way around his neck but her grip was weak and almost nonexistent.

"I've got you, I've got you." he whispered reassuringly, feeling her body tense at the rush of pain as he stood up, her body adjusting in his arms. Her face was buried in his shoulder as her long hair fell down his back. His heart broke as the labored gasps and pained whimpers escaped her lips she tried to suppress into his neck. The pain was becoming unbearable so she tightened her left arm around his neck with as much strength as she could muster, holding him as though her life depended on it; because tonight, it did.

He felt the icy coolness of her skin against his neck while the sticky blood slowly but steadily pulsated beneath his fingers on her back. Tom knew that she was fading so he tried everything he could to keep her with him until help came. "Almost there. You just stay with me, okay?" he continued, trying to keep her awake and aware.

"Tom?" she began, her weakest word to him yet. "I..." she tried to continue telling him something but she was getting weaker by the second; the pain of being moved overwhelming her and her blood loss was finally catching up to her.

"Don't try to talk," he murmured as he moved to open the door of the room. "You can tell me all about it when you're better," he prodded, attempting to keep her focused on staying alive. He felt her nod her head in his neck but her breathing was becoming more and more labored.

He moved with her as quickly but as gently as he could toward the bed in the center of the room. Tom could feel her body weakening as her arm began to loosen its grip on him and her head lulled out of its safe place in the crook of his neck. Not now, he thought. "Rachel, come on," he encouraged frantically, but as he looked down, her eyes were dangerously close to closing. He prayed Danny brought Rios and Mullowsky in time. They'd lost too much already. But if he lost her... it wasn't a thought he could bear to entertain.

Thanks for reading! Please leave a review! I'll try to update soon :)