Chapter Title: I'm Your First, You're My Last.

Disclaimer: I don't own Flight 29 Down. I'm not wasting more space to say that.

A/N: Okay, so I think this is pretty much the end of the line as far as this story goes. I hope more than anything that anyone who has read this story has liked it and told me so. And if you've given me criticism, thanks for that, too. (By the way, that last review by drivemewild was actually probably meant more for this chapter.)

Warning: If you have been reading up until now with the mentality that this story didn't contain rated-M material, please use discretion while reading this chapter. This chapter contains explicit content, and I do not wish to be responsible for exposing this material to those who are unprepared for it.

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Melissa decided that she didn't want to work with Daley, being that she needed time to herself and that Daley would probably rather talk to Nathan than be brought down by Melissa's demeanor.

She roamed through the woods, sensing the depth of the wood around her and trying to remember the way back to camp from her position. She set her current handful of kindling on the ground and sat on a smooth rock, leaning her head back on a rough tree. Jackson's frustrated, desperate, irate expression was emblazoned in her mind, the way his lips agitatedly sneered as he told her off for thinking that life couldn't go on without putting things right. She didn't know that she would ever understand just what he had been thinking the past two days.

She stood up again and, leaving the wood she had already collected on the ground, she began to scour the circumference of the area, picking up twigs and leaves that looked as though they may be of use.

She noticed vaguely that this particular spot had almost no leaves on the ground, which was unusual for the area. The ground was soft with moisture and the trees seemed to still be blooming readily. As she bent to pick up the neglected twigs, she took her time and eventually stood in one spot, leaning her head back and closing her eyes, letting the warmth of the setting sun and the moisture from the ground splash over her, soaking into each pore and loosening each nervous knot in her shoulders and back.

There was the sound of a soft impression in the ground behind her, and she suddenly felt a warm, firm hand clutching her arm. She could feel who it was without turning around. Before she could yank from his grip, she felt his lips at her neck. Her mind halted without warning.

What the…? She lowered her head and pulled away from him, spinning fiercely.

"What are you doing here?" she asked, regaining a partial sense of sanity. Jackson looked as though he hadn't the slightest hint of sanity left about him as his face turned toward hers, still mere inches from her body.

"I came to look for you. Melissa, please." The true desperation and pain in his voice was so real that Melissa could feel it radiating from his heart through his chest. Before she could say anything in response he had placed his hands over her hips, sighing a deep, uncompressed sigh as he kissed Melissa's lips with intense fervor. His hands slowly encircled her waist, pressing her to his chest so that she suddenly felt a completely alien sensation at her waist. Her aggression toward him was being forced out of her with the aggressive, passionate kisses she was now returning to him, feeling almost tearfully in ecstasy as she put her arms over his shoulders.

Jackson's right hand left her waist, a cold imprint over her side where the fingers had been, and brought it up to Melissa's neck, moving his lips rapidly to the side of her face and pressing kisses to the side of her neck and over her earlobe. She bent her head to the side and he smothered her skin in tender warmth, his hand moving to furiously pull the tie from her hair and entwine his fingers through the black strands.

"Jackson," Melissa hissed slowly, pulling herself from him and bringing her hands to lightly clutch his shoulders. She stopped him from kissing her neck and stared into his eyes. "What's wrong?"

"I…" he brought his hand to his forehead and kept it over his eyes for a minute. She felt the stress and sadness mounting in his shoulders as he brought his gaze level with hers. "There's something I need to do, and it would mean everything if you trusted me." Melissa could almost feel his face burning with guilt and embarrassment. She was having trouble seeing him as the sun went down, but she could feel him standing perfectly still in front of her, nervous hands at her sides as he awaited her decision.

Suddenly she sensed the seriousness of his actions, his spontaneity. She knew she couldn't stay angry with him now. All of it had some sort of underlying meaning for him, one that she was apparently supposed to understand. Her heart thumped furiously against her ribcage as she realized with a hot wave of shock what she was about to do.

She leaned in to hug him and brought her lips to his ear. "More than anyone," she sighed, blowing an entirely renewed wave of passion through his body.

His lips swept over hers and his teeth clutched gently to the tender skin. His hands roamed independently over Melissa's body, tugging, for the first time since his mind had begun fantasizing about it, at the bottom of her shirt, reveling in the smooth, warm feeling of her skin. With little hesitation he brought both hands under the fabric and slid his fingers into the sides of her jeans, pressuring her hips and pressing his thumbs to her pelvic bone. She inhaled sharply, her lips still in full contact with his. He could taste a bit of something salty on her lips as his tongue forced entry to her mouth. She had clearly cried at some point that day.

His fingers had reached the first traces of her bra. She jumped as his finger slowly gained admission under the wire.

"Jackson," she whispered fervently, fear blatantly evident in her voice.

Jackson pulled himself off of her, feeling his face heat with embarrassment.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't do this—"

"No!" Melissa interjected reassuringly. "I just… I'm scared," she admitted quietly.

He fully removed his hands from her shirt and put one on her hip and the other on her arm, rubbing her goose-bumped skin. "I am, too," he said shakily. "I just need to do this. But I won't do it if you can't. I won't make you." She could tell that he fully intended to keep that promise. But the sad truth of the matter was that, no matter how scared she was or how mad she had been, she had a terrifying feeling that she needed this almost as much as he did.

"You won't have to," she said quietly, "I'm with you."

Jackson leaned toward her and kissed her gently as ever on the lips, sensing an extremely nervous tingle running through her.

With caution he put his hands, again, to the bottom of her shirt, this time requesting to pull it upward. Melissa nodded slightly, letting him pull it up and over her head. She barely had time to think of self-consciousness before he started kissing her again.

She felt his fingers slipping gently over the curves of her stomach and sides. She knew that she would be devastated if he suddenly rejected her because her body didn't feel right to him. However, he pushed that thought forcefully from her mind as he pulled her to him more tightly and she could feel the hardness through his jeans. He moved his hands to the back of her bra and fumbled with the clasp, his fingers hot and eager as he pulled the pieces apart and removed it from her body. Melissa could felt her skin suddenly prickling with goose bumps from the chilly air.

Her hair had grown long enough that, as Melissa began to lean forward, it slipped smoothly over her shoulders and spread ticklishly over her bare breasts. The nipples tightened as the wind teased the strands over them, and Jackson, hands still skillfully exploring her stomach and hips, leaned down to her chest and eagerly kissed the fine black hair, his lips caressing the tender nipple underneath.

Melissa felt her throat catching with ecstasy. She brought both hands to the back of his head and slipped her fingers through the short strands of hair, pulling him to her and inviting him more deeply inside of her.

His roaming fingers found their purpose and Melissa suddenly inhaled a sharp breath as she felt him feeling down the front of her jeans and under her underwear at her opening. They searched the wet strands and caressed the folds beneath them, making her jump and shudder excitedly. He could already tell that she was wet enough for him to do what he really needed. He brought his lips back to hers and kissed her feverishly as he nervously undid the front of her jeans. She moved to undo his as well, but he stopped her, despite his enormous discomfort.

"Wait," he whispered, "there's something else I need to do first." He stopped kissing her and she could see him well enough to tell that he was, again, embarrassed about what he was going to say or do. He pressed his lips together and cast his eyes down, then said quietly, "Someone told me once… that I have to do this first." She nodded slightly, knowing that he had her safety in mind.

He slowly pulled her jeans down by the belt loops, bringing the underwear down with them. His fingertips could feel the heat and passion radiating from her center, and he had to close his eyes and stop touching her for a moment to prevent coming right there. She put her hand on his chest and let the nails slip over his hot skin.

"M–Mel, stop," he stuttered, losing control and letting out a strangled groan as he held himself together.

"Do what you have to do," she said, bringing herself closer and lightly kissing his muscular left shoulder.

"It– it might hurt," he said worriedly. She kissed his neck deeply in response.

Slowly Jackson brought his right hand down to her wetness, carefully and curiously feeling through until he met the opening. He brought his other hand to her bare back and held her tightly to him before slowly forcing a finger through the wetness and inside her tight folds. She moaned a bit, but continued to kiss him lightly on the neck.

As he inserted the second finger he suddenly felt a great spasm of tension all over her. The muscles in her back tightened and loosened rapidly and she moved her head back to his shoulder, pressing her nose and lips into him. He could feel her nervously tightening around his fingers, and he could only hope on his life that he wasn't hurting her. His thumb found her throbbing clitoris and he stroked her, hoping to bring back some of the pleasure. Melissa turned her head into the crevice between his neck and shoulder and she slowly gained a rhythm, eventually pushing so forcefully against his fingers that he was afraid she might hurt herself.

He tried to calm her by stroking her back a bit, and he leaned down and made soft shushing noises into her ear, waiting for her to slow down. She came down enough for him to regain control, and he tried to insert a third finger. She made rapid "Mm-mm" noises into his neck, shaking her head and, again, nervously tightening. He stopped inserting the finger. Instead, he used the two fingers to try and make her opening more comfortable. It was getting harder for him to keep his senses, as she continued uncontrollably tightening and loosening on his fingers. He continued to caress her inside and out, and he heard her making slow, ecstatic moans, coming so suddenly and heavily over his fingers that he almost gasped.

She fell against him for a moment, Jackson's fingers still wet and warm inside of her. Before he could say a word, she was alert again, trying to undo his jeans.

"You sure you're okay?" he asked in a last attempt for her comfort, although Melissa could tell that he was now past the point of going back.

"We both need it," she whispered in response. Just as she had his zipper undone, he began moving down her body, kissing her neck and nuzzling between her breasts and over her stomach. She reached her hands over his shoulders and pressured his back until he resurfaced to kiss her deeply on the lips. She felt reckless and nervous at once as she reached down to slide his pants off, freeing his already throbbing erection.

He was suddenly extremely nervous, hoping that his fingers had done enough that she wouldn't hurt when she pushed him in. He cautiously slid the two fingers out, bringing his hand to the inside of her thigh and pulling her legs apart slightly. She reached down and slid her finger lightly over his shaft, grazing the tip and making his muscles tighten. He took her hand in his, making it a bit wet as he pulled it to a rest on his chest. She felt his heart beating at the speed of a racehorse, and she eagerly guided him toward her center. He quickly placed his other hand near the tender folds, rubbing the skin compulsively as he finally began to push into her. She was almost unbearably tight, and as he pushed in more he felt her body resisting him. She gasped and groaned as she fought with herself to stay open for him, and he brought his thumb and forefinger to her opening, trying to widen it and comfort her at the same time. He was almost choking on the effort not to come in her until she was ready for him.

She sighed heavily into his shoulder, finally finding the right position and relaxing. He suddenly found it much easier to move, and he slipped awkwardly inward until she pressed her hand to his chest, signaling for him to stop. With slight difficulty, she shifted her hips around him and, with a unified groan, he was fully inside of her. The moment he was inside, his mind began to reel and he could feel his control vanishing. With a last strangled groan, he pulled a clump of her hair into one hand, pressed his lips firmly to her forehead, and came forcefully inside her. With the little energy he had left, he pumped into her and crashed over her hips until she came with a soft cry. They supported each other, panting.

He carefully pulled out of her, thanking God that she hadn't bled, and slowly kneeled in front of her, again kissing various body parts along the way. When he was finally kneeling on the ground, he brought his hands to her hips, rubbing her sides with his thumbs, and he did something that surprised her: he kissed the area just below her stomach, pressing himself to her. The kisses weren't forceful or needy any more; they were kind and luxurious, less urgent than before. She calmly stroked his hair and made comforting shushing noises to him. He slowly moved so that he now had his forehead to her stomach, and she was startled to see his shoulders shaking. He was crying.

He had been so afraid to hurt her that now he was just relieved she was okay. She continued to shush him and caress his hair and cheeks until he stood back up and hugged her, sighing with relief and comfort as he kissed her ear and hair. She closed her eyes and squeezed his forearm lightly.

"It's okay, Jackson. It's over."

"I know," he whispered, his voice cracking emotionally as he finally let her go. He looked into her eyes, his blotchy, tear-streaked cheeks glowing. "You're beautiful," he said to her reverently. She smiled and rubbed her knuckles lightly over the side of his face.

"You have no idea how lucky I am." He smiled and kissed her palm.

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An hour later, Jackson and Melissa had gotten their clothes back on, but were too tired to walk all the way back to the camp. The night was warm, and the ground was soft enough for them to sleep on for the night, until they found their way back in the morning, hopefully before the others woke up and realized that they were still gone. Jackson had calmed down and recomposed himself, and was now gathering leaves for them to sleep on. He set them in a patch before a tree, sitting and leaning his back against the tree tiredly. Melissa came over and sat between his legs, leaning back and resting on his chest. He wrapped his arms around her shoulders and held her to him. They had a moment of comfortable silence.

"Who am I?" he asked her quietly. She could hear that he was falling asleep, and she felt his chest moving up and down more slowly with each beat. She took his hand and held it in front of her, warming the cold fingertips.

"That's hard," she said in response. "I can't really tell you that."

"Who should know me better than you?" he asked with a hint of cheek.

She exhaled a laugh and brought his fingers to her lips, speaking into them quietly. "I can't tell you who you are. I could tell you what you are, but who you are has to do with your opinion, not mine."

He groaned inwardly, and she felt him subtly pulling her more tightly to his body for security. "I'm not so happy with who I am right now."

Melissa turned her head to look at him. "You're not the person you were at home," she said, fully aware that this was part of what he needed to hear. She turned around and laid back on him, waiting for him to say something else.

"That's…" he pulled a lock of hair loose from her hair tie and twisted it through his fingers. "That's why I needed you. You know, tonight." She reveled in the tingly feeling of him gently playing with her hair, but she listened more intently to his confession.

"What do you mean?" she asked quietly. She continued to stroke his fingers lightly as he played with her hair.

"You scared me, Melissa. When you said that stuff about me having to be a different person. I– I had to do something to prove to myself that I wouldn't be the way you said I would be. I had to prove that I wouldn't let myself lose you."

Melissa's chest burned with admiration for him and her throat tightened. She had to ask him:

"Were you a virgin before tonight?"

He shifted awkwardly beneath her.

"Sort of."

She laughed a bit. He remained silent. "How can you be 'sort of' a virgin?"

"It's… it's a weird story."

"Tell me," she said.

"It's going to sound bad."

"I know who you are. This won't change anything."

"When I was ten, I was in this foster home with a few other kids. There were twins, a boy and a girl, both younger than me by a year, and there was a girl, who was probably fifteen, sixteen years old. I think there was something wrong with her. She would come home some nights and be perfectly normal, and then other nights she would come home and the three of us would feel like hiding. Of course, we couldn't hide from her; she knew all the places in the house we liked to hide. When she came home mad, the foster mom would send her to her room. We all shared the same room, because there were only two bedrooms. It wasn't that we were too cramped in there, or anything. But the girl – her name was Maggie – told us that if we whined to the foster mom, she would hurt us. So we just stayed quiet, but when she came into our room angry, we couldn't all leave, because it would look suspicious to the foster mom.

"She never made any of us really have sex with her. She had enough boyfriends at school to fool around with, even though she told us she never really had sex with them. But sometimes she got so mad that she just wanted to do stuff to us. She said that she was feeling 'desires.' Apparently, that meant that she had to," he began to stutter, and his fingers started to clamp a bit around Melissa's. She flattened them gently between hers, knowing what he was going to say. She kissed his fingers and urged him on.

"She touched us, and I knew it was wrong. We all did, but we never said anything. Then one day, she came home really upset." His chest began to move faster, and she felt spurts of breath touching the back of her neck. She leaned the rest of the way back onto him, resting her head on his chest. He calmed again and entwined his fingers through her hair, exhaling deeply.

"She came home upset, and when she came into our room she said that her boyfriend wouldn't have sex with a virgin. Since I was the oldest and I had the biggest fingers, she told me that I would have to… make her… I had to help her. She was mad at herself for not being what her boyfriend wanted, so she made me go really hard. She made me use my fingers on her, and every time I tried to stop, she told me I wasn't done. She made me keep putting fingers in until she bled. She screamed, and I cried. It scared me that she would do that to herself. She told me that I was preparing her. I knew she was right, but she wasn't supposed to do it like that." His chest heaved again and his hand was getting sweaty. His fingers twitched a bit as she kissed them again.

"It's okay," she whispered.

He continued. "I didn't want to do that to you. I didn't want you to bleed and hurt like she did. I just wanted you to know how much I love you. I'm sorry." He stopped talking and closed his mouth tightly, catching his breath and holding tears in.

"Why won't you cry?" she asked him critically. She knew that he was trying not to, but she didn't understand why. She had only seen him cry once, and that had been just after they had sex.

"After that night, I told myself that I would never be that scared again. I wouldn't cry after that, because I needed to be strong, so that I wouldn't be vulnerable any more. I didn't let her touch me after that night. I started hiding from her, and from other people, too. The foster mom thought there was something wrong with me, and she gave me back to the social worker. I haven't really cried since then."

She turned around to look at him. She rubbed his arm and kissed him on the cheek. "You can cry now. I won't hurt you like she did. I promise." She turned back around and laid back on him. He pressed a kiss to the top of her head, and she felt something wet drop to her scalp. He wrapped his arms around her again and she stroked his right arm, closing her eyes and listening to him take deep breaths as more tears fell. She quietly shushed and comforted him until his chest stopped heaving, and he finally fell asleep. She fell asleep shortly after, whispering into his tightly wrapped arms, "It's okay now."

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Jackson woke up the next morning to find that Melissa had already woken. He was a bit sore from sleeping against a tree, but he felt amazingly rested. The sky was pink and red, and he could tell that it was early enough that they could find their way back to camp just before the others woke up. Melissa had already recollected the sticks and twigs that she had gathered the previous afternoon, which was a good idea. At least they could bring something back for the others. He stood up stiffly and she smiled at him.

"You slept quietly," she said. He walked over to her and hugged her again. She rubbed his back, and when he pulled away she put a slightly dirty hand to his face. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine now." He put a hand in his pocket and the other gripped her upper arm. "I was just thinking about something last night. It was really bothering me, but I was afraid to ask you."

"Ask me now."

"Did I… did I hurt you last night?" His face and body had gone rigidly tense as he awaited her answer. She smiled and stroked his cheek.

"Last night was the best night of my life. You were so good to me that it hurt. It hurt my heart to see you so upset. You didn't let yourself do to me what you had to do to Maggie." He smiled, but he wouldn't let himself cry again. She kissed his lips and bent down to pick up the wood again. "Let's go back, shall we?"

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When they finally found their way back to the camp, only Nathan had woken up. He must have noticed that Melissa and Jackson were gone, because he was sitting tensely by the burnt out fire. He looked up the moment he heard their crunching footsteps and jumped up from the log. Melissa was expecting him to lecture her or something equally aggravating, but when he had reached her he pulled her into a strong hug.

"Nathan!" she said with a small laugh. He laughed back and let her go.

"Don't do that again, please," he said to her and Jackson at the same time. He gave Jackson a slight smile, and Jackson returned it before moving toward the fire to find food. Nathan gave Melissa a discreet look, asking her the question she had known he would ask. She nodded at him and his eyebrows rose, but he said nothing.

He didn't say anything later, either, when Daley, Taylor, Eric, and Lex woke up and came out of the tent. Taylor was the only one with the suspicion that Melissa and Jackson hadn't come back to the tent the night before, but no one else believed her. They ate in peace and began work, the same as any other day. Melissa silently gave Jackson comforting touches to his shoulder or back as they worked. He was still tense from the previous night's conversation, but she could tell that he was happy to have said it. She was glad that she was able to comfort him like no one else could. Nathan seemed to understand the connection going on between them, and he and Daley kept their distance during the day, both pairs letting the other have time alone.

"Guys!" Lex ran over to where everyone was working, looking flushed and excited. "Guess what!"

"You've discovered a civilization with TV and showers and toilet paper?" Taylor asked him sarcastically.

"You got the radio to work?" Nathan asked hopefully.

"Uh, no. But it's almost as good!" Eric rolled his eyes, as though nothing could be as good as TV and showers.

"What is it, Lex?" Daley asked hopefully.

"I think that we might be able to have the new shelter finished within another day or two, if we keep working like we are now."

The others smiled and Daley hugged Lex appreciatively. "Thank God!" Taylor said loudly. They laughed and went back to work, continuing to chop and build feverishly until the sun went down.

By the time the day was over, Melissa had discovered something: Jackson didn't trust himself at all. Of all the things she said or did to Jackson, the one thing that soothed his nerves was her promises that he wouldn't hurt her. It felt like a strange thing for her to say, but by the end of the day he was calmer than ever, smiling and enjoying himself with the others. No one, aside from Nathan, suspected that he had done anything exceptionally special in the last twenty-four hours, and he kept it that way.

That night, when they were all lying quietly in the tent, Melissa was almost asleep when she felt Jackson shift behind her. He was breathing too unsteadily to be asleep, and she turned to see his eyes open and looking at her. She shifted to face him and reached her hand out, putting it to the side of his face and running her thumb over his lips.

"Relax," she whispered, trying not to wake the others, who had probably been asleep for the past hour. Jackson quietly reached toward her legs and pulled her to him. She sighed and leaned toward him, kissing his forehead. Another thing she had noticed was his unusual obsession for touching her near her stomach. She figured that her center was a sacred place to him. His hand reached again to the spot he had kissed the night before, and she felt the pressure at her lower abdomen from his fingers.

"Hm," she hummed, stroking his chest soothingly. "Thank God for Taylor," she whispered pensively. His fingers kept rubbing, but he looked at her quizzically.

"Taylor?"

"If Taylor hadn't said that stupid stuff to me, none of this would have happened."

"I think it might have happened anyway," he replied confidently. She smiled and kissed him on the lips.

"Go to sleep," she cooed. "I'll be here in the morning, you know." He smiled, although she could still sense a tinge of tension. "I'm fine, Jackson. You're a good person; we both know it. You won't hurt me. Now go to sleep." She took her hand back and got comfortable so that she could sleep, but let Jackson's hand stay where it was. His eyes closed and he was asleep within minutes. Melissa brought her fingertips to her lips, and then laid them gently on Jackson's chest. He sighed deeply, still asleep, and his fingers continued to find comfort on her abdomen. Without moving from him, she closed her eyes, ready to sleep.

"I won't let you get hurt," she whispered, not knowing that he could still hear her. "I love you."

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A/N: There's Chapter 4 for you all. Thanks for the reviews and compliments I've received. Anyway, I was thinking that there might be a sequel, but the idea I have in mind would be a bit risqué. Tell me your thoughts, and thanks for reading.