He doesn't like thinking of it – he doesn't like the thought of her actually being in real danger, despite her fine balance of recklessness and skill. He doesn't like thinking about how close he could be to losing her – as infuriating as she may be - because of one miniscule slip up or because some Argentinian drug lord is having a particularly bad day. It's ironic, he knows, that he doesn't like to think about his girlfriend (Is she his girlfriend? He doesn't know - they haven't had that conversation yet, but he supposes she would probably argue against that assumption anyway) being in danger in their line of work, but he can't allow himself to think of the consequences she could face is she was just a tad too reckless. He can't bear to think about what would happen if a mission went wrong – if he would never hold her in his arms, never gaze into her eyes or say things to her that he still refuses to admit to himself.

But it's inevitable.

In their line of work, it's inevitable that he should have to thinklike this one day, that one mission should go wrong in comparison to hundreds of other successful missions, and so one day, he has no choice but to think about the danger.

He hears the news as soon as he walks into the London headquarters one morning – a group of them gossiping about an agent being shot in broad daylight. And yes, while it's not exactly good news, Edward isn't overly concerned by what he overhears, at least they're still alive, there's a niggling feeling in the back of his mind, something telling him that something is wrong. However, he chooses to ignore it as he moves towards his office, he has a reputation to upkeep – Edward Townsend doesn't listen to gossip within the service.

It's not until he reaches his office that he suddenly understands that strange feeling that washed over him when he entered the building. As soon as he sees the two of them waiting in his suddenly tiny office, Edward knows that something is wrong. Something is dreadfully wrong. Of course, the Baxters are good friends of his, but he can tell by the thick tension of the air around him that this isn't a social call. The pitying looks they give him as he enters are enough for him to know exactly what's wrong.

There's an odd jump in his chest – something more like a flutter really – before it feels as if his heart has stopped completely. The room feels as if it keeps getting smaller with every passing second and he can't breathe as he hears Grace whisper a soft "Edward..."

He feels helpless in that moment. All of his deepest fears have been confirmed and there's nothing he can do to turn back time – it's different from all the other times she's been in danger, he can't be the one that's injured this time in order to save her. He can't do anything to help her, can't do anything to make sure she's alive.

Edward can feel himself shaking his head slightly as he starts "It can't have..."

He doesn't look at him directly, but he can tell that Abe hates the words he comes out with as he hears him quietly say "I'm so sorry, Edward." There's a slight pause, a quick glance towards his wife, before he speaks again. "It was her, Edward, she's been shot."

It feels as if the his whole world is collapsing and he's painfully aware of the feeling he has when he realises that he may never have the chance to tell her, to whisper those few words they've only ever said as part of a cover on a mission. He feels his chest tighten as he looks up at Grace and Abe. He sees the pity mixed with concern in his eyes and Edward realises that to them, he must look crazy.

To be honest, he feels it right now.

And why does this goddamn office keep getting bloody smaller?

He looks each of them in the eyes before he says, almost defiant, "No, she can't – she just can't."

And with that, he stalks out of the building, breaking into a run as he sees the streets of London. He doesn't stop. He knows he can't stop until he sees her.

So he doesn't. He doesn't stop until he reaches her room in the hospital and looks through the window to check that it really is her. He feels his stomach flip as he sees all the wires coming out of her, too many wires, hooked up to various machines and an IV line in her hand. Her shoulder and the left side of her chest are covered in surgical dressings, hiding the fresh stitches from her surgery. She's asleep, Edward sees, so decides to take his chance to see her before she comes around from the drugs they've given her.

Whatever he felt outside the room is magnified when he actually gets inside and sees her up close. He closes the door gently behind him, hoping not to alert anyone to his presence. He doesn't think Rachel knows yet, hell, he doesn't think anyone really knows what's happening between the two them, whatever it actually is. Frankly, Edward's surprised that he's able to just waltz in here like he does, surprised that she isn't being carefully guarded by her sister or Joe after her shooting, but he's glad that he's got the opportunity to tell her alone, glad that he's still got the chance to tell her exactly what she means to him without any interruptions or eavesdroppers.

He pulls a chair up next to her bed, reaching out to grab the hand not hooked up to the IV. He looks up at her face, noticing how innocent and childlike she looks when she's as completely vulnerable as she is now. She looks so much younger sleeping and for a brief moment, Edward has a vision of tucking in a little girl who looks exactly like her mother and waiting until she's finally asleep.

If he didn't know that he was completely, irrevocably in love with her before, this is the moment that he finally realises it.

He smiles softly at the thought, suddenly thankful that he has that chance – that one day he might be putting a brunette little girl, with her mother's sparkling eyes and bubbly attitude, to bed until he finally sees that same innocent face while she sleeps. He's never really been able to see himself married and having children, but suddenly a little face, like a miniature version of the woman in front of him has wormed its way into his heart. He won't admit it to her yet, perhaps one day when she's pregnant, but somehow he has a vision of his future – of their future – and he makes a silent promise to himself, and to her, that he'll do anything in his power for this to become his reality.

There's this sudden urge within himself to get closer to her, so he sits on the edge of the bed next to her and gingerly reaches out to move a piece of hair out of her face, gently brushing his fingertips across her face as he does. It's strange, he thinks, that the littlest touches and looks are what their relationship comprises of, hidden from prying eyes in the shadows, but he finds himself yearning for something more sometimes, to be able hold her in his arms in front of their close friends and family, to be able to tell her he loves her without being scared of her running.

Because he does, damnit.

He does love her.

Edward doesn't know what will happen in the future, doesn't know if she will ever feel the same way about him, but he does know how he feels about her, that he loves her beyond words. Yet there's so much uncertainty surrounding them, so much worry that the other could walk away from this relationship that they're both so terrified of making a wrong move.

But he tells her anyway.

It's awkward when he first starts talking, it's not like he has much experience telling people how he feels, and he has even less experience of doing so to people who are heavily asleep. "So... er," he starts, pausing as he wills himself not to be a coward and back out of this. "This is a bit strange isn't it? I mean, I don't even know if you can hear me or know what I'm saying, but this is definitely strange for me," he lightly chuckles, relieving some of his apprehension.

He strokes the back of her hand gently, creating a slow rhythm to keep him on track as he speaks to her. Looking over her wounds, all Edward can think about is how relieved he is. "You gave me quite a scare there, you know?" He asks, trying to be light despite the how severe the situation could have been. "I bet you scared Rachel and Cameron, too. Where are they, by the way?" He wonders, "I thought they would have guarded your room like pit bulls, I didn't think I could just slip in and see you after what happened earlier."

In all honesty, the absence of her family worries him. He's heard her tell him all about Rachel and Cammie, he's held her as she cried about Matt disappearing and comforted her so she doesn't think that it's her fault. She's already told him about the Circle's hunt for her niece and her fears about Cammie's future, so Edward can only imagine how bad the situation must be if they're not at her bedside right now.

"Let's not worry about them now though, hmm," he prompts, giving her the chance to open her eyes and say something back to him, despite how futile it is. "You don't need to worry about anything right now, darling, you just need to focus on getting better when you come around. Everything else will be alright, just as long as you get better from this."

He takes a ragged breath in as he contemplates how she could have so easily died on the street, how she could have not make it through surgery, how she could still suffer from consequences of the surgery. It's a good sign, he thinks, that she's survived – there's no way a fighter like her wouldn't get through it, he knows, but even that can't stop him worrying.

"Promise me," he whispers, gently stroking the back of her hand, "promise me that you won't leave me like this." There's a painful pause before Edwards speaks again, begging "please, you can't leave me like this – I don't know what I'd do without you – you can't leave me alone without saying goodbye." His voice cracks and he tries to blink back the tears as he takes her appearance in, still unconscious like she was on the asphalt just a few hours ago.

It's not like he's really telling her, she's still drugged up after her surgery, so it doesn't really count for anything. Well, that's what he tells himself for reassurance when he finally blurts it out.

"I love you, Abigail."

He tells himself that she won't be able to hear him – that he still has some time before he tells her properly. There's still some time before she leaves him because it's suddenly more serious or she doesn't feel the same – all Edward can do is hope he's wrong about her reaction.

"You've made me fall hopelessly in love with you, Abigail Cameron, and I'd be lost without you," he whispers softly. He strokes her cheek gently, kissing her forehead before reiterating an "I love you" as he stands up from her bed.

Edward takes in her expression as she sleeps one last time before turning away to silently walk towards the door and enter the ward of unsuspecting strangers once more.

It's only when his hand reaches for the doorknob that he feels content about his future as he hears a quiet "I guess that's good then." He quickly turns around to see those bright green eyes he's grown so fond of as she murmurs a groggy, "because I'm completely in love with you, Edward."

There's a gentle smile shared between the two of them, both revelling in the security of their relationship. Quickly, he leaves his position at the door to purposefully stride across the room towards her before capturing her lips. He breaks their kiss, eliciting a moan from Abby, but stares into her eyes, huskily saying, "I'll pick you up later," stroking her lips with his thumb before he departs from her bedside once again.

As he walks away, he can tell that for a rare moment in her life, Abby Cameron is actually speechless.

Despite his Abby making it through (God, it feels so good to finally be able to call her his Abby) her surgery following the shooting, Edward can't help but think about what could have happened – can't stop the what ifs and maybes from running around in his head. He can't help but think of how close he was to losing everything – and how thankful he is that he didn't.

Edward can't stop the thoughts (or the nightmares that accompany them), but he can reassure himself that she's there, that she's still with him. And so one night in her apartment, they find themselves huddling together under the covers, Abby holding him, one hand playing with his hair, as Edward traces circles on her stomach, listening to the gentle thump of her heartbeat.

Honestly, if you made it this far without giving up, I can't thank you enough for reading this and giving it a chance. If you enjoyed it or hae any constructive criticism, please leave a review or PM me.

Have a good day and be nice to yourself x