A/N: As much as I love the Annie/Mitchell pairing, I felt like he got off too easy in episode 3.5, when he told Annie he didn't love her then took it back the same night... so I "extended" the last scene. It winds up the same way, but I thought he needed to be called out a little more. Keeping with canon, he's not completely honest with her throughout.


She held him until his body relaxed and his breathing slowed. They stayed like that for several minutes in silence. She wanted what he said to be true – that he wanted her, that he needed her, that they were for eternity, but the fire of doubt still burned in her.

"Are you done?" she asked flatly.

He looked up at her. "Annie –"

She stepped back, her palm raised in front of her face. "Just stop," she said. "I don't know what's going on with you…"

"Nothing, I just –"

"Stop." It was all she could think to say. He didn't say another word, just looked up at her sadly. "I don't want to hear you saying what you think I want to hear. Sometimes, I think you're the most honest when you're being cruel. When you don't care what anyone thinks." She sighed. "I don't know what I'm supposed to believe."

"You're supposed to believe that I love you," He said.

"Why?" She sat down on the bed next to him, shaking her head. He reached out to touch her cheek; she pushed his hand away without moving or lifting a finger. "I feel like I don't even know you sometimes, Mitchell."

"You do know me…"

She shook her head. "I've been through this before," she said, staring straight ahead.

Mitchell knew where this was going. "Don't compare me to Owen."

"Why not?" She stood up and faced him. "You're worse than Owen. You make Owen look like a schoolboy, you said it yourself."

He swallowed. "I used to be… worse than Owen."

She shook her head. "You said you'd never hurt me, but you do. You say things."

"I'm not perfect, Annie. I'm probably the least perfect person you'll ever know. I wouldn't wish me on anyone."

"Well, that's a lovely thought," she said.

"I'm well aware that I don't deserve you, and it eats away at me every day. You don't know what your love means to me… what it's done to me. And now…" He pointed at the door, "fucking Herrick is in our home. He's in this house, with you, and if he had any idea about you and me…"

"Herrick can't hurt me, Mitchell."

"You don't know what he can do." He paused. "I'm just… so scared of losing you again," He said. "When I say stupid things, it's because I'm so scared…"

"I thought you were scared of commitment," she said.

"No."

"Well, maybe you should get your story straight," she said, crossing her arms. "See, this is what I'm talking about, Mitchell. You'll say anything, anything you think I want to hear. So why should I believe anything you say?"

He laid back on the bed, his hands covering his face. "I don't know," he said. "I don't know… maybe you shouldn't." He laid there for a minute. She didn't respond. "No," he sat up. "Fuck that. I'm not letting Herrick do this to us –"

"How exactly is you acting like a dick Herrick's fault?"

"Because he won't let me live," he said. "He comes back, and he pulls me back in. Every time. And then you really won't know me anymore, Annie. And the thought of that… it kills me."

She sat down next to him again in silence. She eyed the stake on the bed. She had no reservations about killing Herrick.

"When you went through that door," he said, breaking her distraction, "it was the worst pain I'd ever felt in my life. Since I've been like… like this, I haven't really felt pain. Nothing like that. I can't even describe it. Just…" he trailed off. "And I knew. I knew you were gone." He took a deep breath, holding himself together. "And I could hear these sounds coming out of me, these… screams. Coming from me…"

She nodded. "I heard you," she said. They sat in silence for a few minutes.

"I didn't bring you back to be a hero," he said finally. "I couldn't live without you."

She put her cool, tingly fingers on his hand. "You're not like Owen," she said. "When I died… when I was lying there, bleeding on the tile… he didn't even call my name. He didn't cry." She looked at him. "That was really a kick in the face."

He touched her cheek. This time she didn't push him away. He leaned in slowly until she leaned forward and met his lips with hers. The kiss lasted a while before Annie broke away suddenly.

"I don't understand, though," she said.

He leaned his forehead against hers. "Please let us be done talking, Annie…"

"Just, why tell me you don't love me if you're scared of losing me?"

"It wasn't the best plan," he said, pulling back.

"I'm serious."

He sighed. "I guess…. " He touched her hair. "I thought there would be less pain for you if you didn't love me."

"Because of Herrick?"

"Because of Herrick, yeah."

She thought for a moment. "Well, that's not your choice to make. I know Herrick is…. Well, maybe I don't know everything about him, but whatever happens, we'll face it together. You don't get to decide to face it alone."

He let a small smile slip. "You might change your mind."

"You might change yours," she said. "That's… life…"

He laughed. "Death?"

"Undeath," she said.

He kissed her lips lightly. "Are we done talking?"

She smiled. "I think so."

"Finally," he sighed, a warm chill running down his spine as she wrapped her ethereal arms around his neck. They drifted off to the place they'd found, late at night and quite by accident, of pure, serene bliss, like a warm wave of tranquility engulfing them both and slowly receding. For a few brief moments, everything disappeared – the blood, the guilt, the pain, and Herrick. For those few brief moments, undeath was good.