Disclaimer: If I had any ownership stake in Haven I'm pretty sure we'd all have been watching a giant ball of fluff since about 2011. The first couple lines are from the end of The Lighthouse.

Author's Note: This starts right after the season four finale. I know that season five starts in two weeks and this will probably be entirely AU after that, but it still kind of makes me feel better to know I can control some of the feels. :)

Prologue:

"He's as good as dead."

Audrey pulled out of Nathan's embrace just as his arms dropped slack to his side, she having apparently recovered from the shock of whatever had just happened. He stood, frozen, as she moved slowly across the the floor to stand on the center of the guard symbol.

"Now, who's going to help me get William back?"

For a half a moment he welcomed seeing her so empowered and strong, so unburdened by fear and responsibility and the seemingly never-ending promise of doom that hung over them. He wondered if it might not be worth it, to lose her like this, if she got to be free again.

And then she stepped over Jennifer's body like it was a rag on the floor and the understanding that it wasn't Audrey who was free at all hit him like brick wall.

He'd imagined this moment and those that would follow thousand times over the past few hours: the look in William's eyes as fell away from them; the feel of Audrey finally relaxing in his arms, finally feeling safe; the way the tension and guilt in his chest would evaporate as they closed the door and he pulled her into him. He even let himself imagine the house with the picket fence, and the white dress and the babies that she might not have wanted anyway.

This, though, he'd never imagined. He supposed he deserved it though, thinking he had any right to hope or a future with her, in this town, in this lifetime.

"Audrey?" he said, meeting her eyes.

It was half a question and half prayer that he was wrong and she was paying him back in kind for the months of bad jokes to which she'd been subjected. But he knew as soon as met them that he was right. All the traces of his Audrey were gone. They'd replaced with the same sardonic cold that he'd seen engulf her when she Troubled Duke.

"Not quite."

Her voice was as cold as her eyes; his mind recoiled and his heart sank and he was sure that if he could feel anything at all the pain would have been to much to bear. But instead he stepped towards her, waiting for something to happen and praying that she'd chosen in this moment to play the most inappropriate joke of her life.

But he knew she hadn't.

"You should have known that, Wuornos. Your faith in your little love story was sweet though, if not a little pathetic. It'll make for a good laugh later," she added as an afterthought- a horrible, ironic reassurance that would surely have been more appreciated by William.

For a moment, he saw a familiar sadness move through her eyes; his heart broke for her, and even knowing that it was William whose loss she was mourning barely muted his now-entirely misplaced concern.

He supposed it didn't really matter though. She moving backwards towards the stairs, smirking because she knew none of them would be following any time soon.

"I'm sure I'll be seeing you around. And babe?" She flashed him a particularly mocking smile as she moved away, and before she even moved her lips he knew this was going to hurt.

"It's Mara now."

He listened to her steps as she claimed up the ladder and then across the old wooden floors above them, and heard her push open the old lighthouse door before he was able to pull himself together enough to run after her.

Any other time Duke would have taken a second to burn that image into his memory- Nathan running off-kilter towards the door, howling out Audrey's name like a plea, or a prayer. He thought if it was 1990 and they were in high school and it was Lisa Buck he was chasing after then it would have been very funny.

But that was very clearly not the situation, and he didn't need to give in to the pain forcing its way into every part of his body to remember that; the feel of Jennifer lying still in his arms would do just fine.

They all stayed still for a few moments after Nathan left, unsure of what to do. They'd all known this was a possibility, theoretically. But he certainly hadn't thought Nathan would let Audrey get close enough to give him even the slightest chance.

Nor, I guess, had any of them them really, truly considered for a moment that she wouldn't be strong enough to come out the other side.

To be fair, he supposed Nathan couldn't have done much to have kept her from pulling away from him to make her final move against William; but he didn't think that was going to be a particularly helpful reassurance.

"So," he started after another moment, ignoring the pain and substituting a smirk for a grimace, as if that would help. "It would appear we have a problem or two on our hands, fellas."

No one responded, so he continued.

"For one, it looks like Cheekbones made a little bit of a mistake in his calculations and left us with Mara. Also," he slowly-and more painfully than he would have preferred-swept a hand over his body, "Jennifer and I seem to be in a bit of a bind, though," he paused "probably not as bad as whatever Officer Do Good is getting himself into up there," he pointed towards what he hoped was the ceiling, "or what ever damage the big sweeping, ancient evil we just unleashed is going to do."

He felt his head get a little light and was surprised to see his vision fading in and out as Vince, Dave and Dwight finally got themselves together. They were speaking, but the words were muffled and the last thing he saw before passing out was Dwight moving quickly in the direction that Nathan and Audrey- Mara, he corrected shakily- had gone, and Vince and Dave moving towards them.

They looked more worried than he was comfortable with, he mused.

And then it was black.