A/N: Inspired by 2x06+ and especially Lucas/Emily's faces during 2x11. Y'all are killing me (in the best way possible). *sigh*

As always, much love to my readers/reviewers! And a special shout-out to all who have fav'd/alerted me. :)

And it can be fire and brimstone and death and destruction

(look down, the ground below is crumbling)

And it can be fathers leaving and doubles arriving and crazy man-eating not-creatures in the woods

(look up, the stars are all exploding)

And she, she may blink out of existence in any given minute

And he, he has a congregation of religious zealots, who'd like nothing better than to end him, hot on his tail

(it's the last day on Earth)

And she, she could wake up tomorrow calling herself Lucy Ripley and looking at Nathan Wournos like he's a stranger,

And he, he could wake up tomorrow feeling everything and looking at Audrey like she's obsolete

(it's the end of the world)

And they're living these days half-way and half-hearted and like it isn't possible the Sun will fall down around them over lunch

And Audrey wants answers to so many questions

(like who am I and what am I and where did I come from)

so badly sometimes.

And Nathan wants an end to the Troubles

(he wants to feel and he wants Dwight to live Kevlar-free and he wants the trees in the woods to be just trees)

And sometimes Audrey teases him because

("Would our jobs be nearly as exhilarating with just actual cats in trees?")

and he grumps

("Some of us miss a low homicide rate.")

But he loves her for saying that and he has to hide a smile because he knows she'd rather dig through a crime scene or an evidence folder than sleep till 10

(and this may make her strange but it also makes her his)

And for a moment, he doesn't mind being exhausted because he gets to see her grin like that.

And sometimes Nathan has to pull her back from the brink,

("You could never fail me.")

And she is skeptical

("No I failed.")

But she loves him for saying that and she has to blink furiously to hide her tears because the look on his face is so earnest and so open and he really, honestly means it.

And for a moment, she is grounded.

(you've come back to me)

These are the minutes they hold onto now,

and especially later when things get much, much worse,

these minutes

(between, the dust and debris, there's a light, surrounding you and me)

when she can see a future beyond her past and he can pretend she is looking at him the way he never thought he'd see her look at Chris,

tether them to tomorrow, to moving forward, to moving on

There are times

(many times, too many times)

when she is not sure they are both going to come out of this unscathed

("Where is Nathan? What did you do to him?")

and there are times

(many times, too many times)

when he is not sure he is enough to pull her out of the darkness

("You were aiming for his shoulder, right?")

And he clings

(hypothetically, emotionally, and physically when he is desperate)

With his eyes, with his voice, with his fingers when he thinks she may be too far gone for him to reach her

(and you hold me closer, than I can ever remember being held)

And she wants to savor this, compare it to all those who have come before and revel in the way there is no comparison when it is Nathan

(but she doesn't trust her memories and she can't tell if anyone actually has come before)

And this terrifies her—

threatens to overwhelm her, drag her down below the shoreline of insanity

—but he is there, as he is always there,

And it will be awhile yet before she can acknowledge the tide changing between her and Nathan but

(I'm not afraid to sleep now, if we can stay like this)

She finds herself retreating to the place in her head where she can hear his voice

(he is on repeat here; because she can't really ask him to repeat it every time she's feeling a little weak, because that's a little more often than she'd like to admit)

And he guides her; when there is terror or panic or chaos he is there

(in my head, I replay our conversations, over and over till they feel like hallucinations)

And he keeps her safe

When there is joy or laughter or peace he joins her, enjoys it with her and in this mind's eye she can smile and cry and he sees it and it is freeing

(you know me, I love to lose my mind)

And for all that they share and for all that they know without saying and all that they hear without listening the emotional void is one they have yet to truly breech.

But it is faltering, wavering, failing,

(and he's not so sure he cares anymore if the whole damn town knows how he feels as long as she is safe)

And it goes completely out the window sometime between

("all I can feel is you" and "you died" and "I hope you'll come back and tell me what they are" and "I'm coming back I promise")

And "you're not just my partner anymore" is just a taste of the iceberg of UST piled up between them and it only gets worse

And surely Dave and Vince would notice

(if they weren't so caught up in the impending Armageddon)

Because it only gets more obvious and people don't even have to say his name to get her looking in his direction and they don't need to say hers to make the breath catch in his throat

(everytime, anybody speaks your name, I still, feel the same)

And if it burns she doesn't mention it and if it hurts he'll never tell

So they make do with half-finished sentences

("Because of you, I can…nevermind.")

And they pretend solving a time-consuming, money-sucking mystery isn't the world's most elaborate non-gesture to tell someone you (don't) care

(because it was only two years of his life and piles of pictures and merpeople who may or may not hate him and a pricey Portland private investigator)

And all the eyebrows and squinting and exasperation flying back and forth is just the way partners talk to each other

(and he's not furious because she wants to get fired and she's not livid because he keeps putting himself between her and things that he may not be able to feel but will kill him regardless)

And her tackle-hug is polite gratitude and the kiss is appreciation and his stuttering is from drinking that third cup of coffee and his anxiousness to see her

(what he says is, "We start work at 9 in the Haven PD. Where were you?" but what he means is I-was-worried-where-the-hell-have-you-been-why-didn't-you-call?)

doesn't mean he's missed her face like crazy in the last 12 hours since he's seen it

(and it certainly doesn't mean he sat up half the night waiting on a text because he was afraid she never came back)

And if he stares at her lips from three inches away while they share the same chair in front of the same computer in the office he doesn't have to share anymore, it doesn't mean he wants to drag her under the desk and coerce the answers out of her

And it's getting harder to pretend when he's smiling like that

("Nathan, what are you doing here?")

that everything everyone says doesn't sail right over his head

("Sometimes risks pay off.")

Because everything is coming up Audrey

(and she's in his truck and she's in the Herald office and she's in his house later that night when he empties his pockets and post-its fall out)

and that's all it takes to get him started smiling like a fool and missing her

—really missing her—

like he didn't just leave her three hours ago

(Hours, Nathan, not weeks. Get a hold of yourself.)

And she can't pretend she drove all those miles in that car and didn't once bury her nose in her jacket and didn't once inhale deep because the scent of him is all around her and it follows her

(he is there when she speaks to Lucy and he keeps her awake on the drive home to Haven and he tucks her in when she gets back late that night and can't be bothered to undress before she hits the mattress)

And if Duke notices anything strange about his tenant, face buried in her top, shuffling upstairs, he never says a word

(but he may text Nathan just to say she is home and she is in one piece and she is breathing and she is remembering enough to get here so odds are good her memories are intact)

Because they don't know how this works—at all—and he hates sending her anywhere because he is never quite sure she'll come back to him in the condition she left

(but he can't say it; he'll never say it out loud)

And he doesn't know Sarah or Lucy Ripley but he's pretty attached to Audrey Parker so she has to come home.

("You wasted your time.")

And that's all there is to it.

(everytime, anybody speaks your name, I still, feel the same; I ache, I ache, I ache inside)

A/N: Music credit goes to Kate Miller-Heidke's "Last Day On Earth". And can I get a woot for S3? We're officially renewed!

This is a mish-mosh of Nathan's and Audrey's P.O.V. on the craziness towards the end of S2 (but really everyday cause it's Haven ;p). Hope I did them justice.

Also, this is me requesting the writers give us Nathan+Audrey+baby sometime in the distant future because my brain keeps coming back to it and it is cuteness overload. If we could also get Grandpa!Garland and/or Uncle!Duke/Dave/Vince that would be a most epic win. Just sayin'. ;p

As always, comments/reviews are welcome!