A/N: thank you to those who reviewed even when I was AWOL. You guys are amazing.


"Put up again thy sword into his place: for all they that take the sword shall perish with the sword." - Matthew 26:52


Present Day

New Orleans, Louisiana

Molly's phone started to ring. Her eyes burned as the white screen illuminated her face. Billy's name flashed across the screen.

"It's Billy," she said apologetically. Gunnar waved off her apologies. She stood and moved out onto the porch.

"Everything ok, Molls?" Billy asked. She rubbed her tired eyes. Her skin smelled like cigarette smoke.

"Yeah, I'm still with Gunnar. He's… He's not in a good spot right now, Kid," she said quietly. She could almost hear Billy's suddenly nervous energy.

"You want me to come out there?" he asked. She sighed and glanced in the grimy window. Gunnar was still sitting on the couch, half empty bottle of beer in his hand.

"No. He's drunk. The last mission fucked with his head," Molly admitted. Billy exhaled slowly.

"Just...Be safe, ok, Molls?"

"Yeah. I'll text you when I'm on my way home. Don't wait up."

Molly headed back inside the shack and dropped down on the opposite end of the couch, hugging one knee to her chest.

"Kid doing ok?" Gunnar rumbled.

"Yeah. He was worried. It's about three AM, big guy," she remarked, looking at the clock on her phone. He pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger.

"I'm sorry I kept you so long, Little Wolf," he muttered, "You should go home, to your Kid and Gabriel," he started to rise from the couch. Molly caught his arm firmly.

"I'm not going to leave you here, Gunnar," she told him soberly. He blinked down at her for a moment before settling back in.

"Story's almost over, anyways," he admitted.


January 2nd, 1977

Boston, Massachusetts

Gunnar's heater was finally fixed. He and Alice had since relocated back to his apartment. Not being surrounded by street bosses every hour of the day left her less tightly wound. The bruises on her knuckles were nearly healed. She had not been sent out on a run for over a month.

Gunnar was inherently grateful that Sullivan had put his foot down after the bar was blown up. Alice was off all things mob related.

"My passport came in the mail this morning," she stated over the laundry she was folding. Gunnar looked up from his book with raised brows. They hadn't talked about Sweden since Thanksgiving.

After she left him in the snow on Christmas Eve, they hadn't talked about too much, really. It had been a state of constant limbo.

"You still want to come with me?" he blurted. She flinched.

"S'pose I deserve that," she murmured, lowering her eyes to the sweater in her hands. Gunnar sat down beside her. She was so small next to him.

"We could leave on the next flight out," he told her. Her head snapped up and her green eyes locked with his blue ones.

"What? What about school? Semester starts in a week," she pointed out. Gunnar shook his head, running a hand through his shaggy blonde hair.

"Fuck it," he said firmly. Her brows shot up.

"What? Gunnar, you have a scholarship—"

"There are schools back in Sweden. I can finish. We can get married, they'll give you your green card more easily, we'll leave as soon as we can," he said. It really wouldn't take him long to pack his things.

"Married?" It was half amusement, half disbelief.

"I love you, Alice. This city is poison. You know it, and I know it. If we stay…" He trailed off.

She chewed on her lower lip.

"Connor and Jimmy'll kill me…" she remarked thoughtfully.

"I'll talk to them," Gunnar promised. A grin split her face. She beamed up at him before kissing him firmly on the mouth. He pulled away reluctantly before standing.

"I was going to wait," he admitted, backing into his room, "But since we're doing this now," he slid his hand under his mattress and found the little box.

Alice gaped as he dropped down next to her.

"I know it's not much. I had my Ma send it to me," he admitted. There was a delicate gold ring with a dark stone.

Alice threw her arms around his neck.

"Oh, Gunnar." He felt dampness on his shoulder.

"Hey, don't cry," he smoothed her hair away from her face.

"I'm sorry," she said. He kissed her softly.


Present Day

New Orleans, Louisiana

Molly's brows were nearly to her hair line.

"Wow… What did her brothers have to say about it?"

Gunnar let out a grim chuckle.

"Connor tried to deck me."


January 3rd, 1977

Boston, Massachusetts

"Like fucking hell!"

Gunnar danced back out of the way as Connor lunged forward. Sullivan and Jimmy caught him around the chest.

"Hey, take it easy, Connor," Sullivan warned.

"You think I'm gonna let this fuckhead spirit my baby sister across the fuckin' Atlantic? You're fucking out of your mind, Jensen!"

Gunnar opened his mouth, unsure of what to say. He looked at Jimmy helplessly, hoping for some sort of back up. The eldest Donaghue had always tolerated him better than Connor had. Right now, though, he was wishing that he had taken Alice up on her offer to accompany him.

As it was, though, she was trying to get a marriage license arranged so they could have a justice marry them tomorrow and fly out the next day.

"Hey, calm the fuck down!" Sullivan barked, "You know how fucking dangerous this place is getting. Can't go and get a damn cup of coffee without being harassed."

Connor sulked. He was no longer trying to tear out Gunnar's throat.

"Gunnar's a good kid. You're gonna take care of Ali, aren't you?" Sullivan turned sharp eyes to him.

Gunnar swallowed hard and nodded.

Jimmy opened his mouth to say something, but the phone on the wall started ringing. He gave it an annoyed look before walking three steps across the apartment to answer it.

"Yeah?" The scowl on his face deepened as the caller spoke.

"Sit tight, Ali. We'll be there in five," he hung up and grabbed his coat. "Fucking King Street boys have been tailing Ali. She's in the diner."


For the rest of his life, Gunnar would never forget what he saw when he turned the block.

The street was still crusted with the white snow that had covered the city the night before, and the sun was watery in the pearly sky.

Mrs. McLellan was being pulled from the diner by a couple of street level thugs. Alice chased out after them, hollering and cussing.

The gunshot cracked across the relative silence of the street and Gunnar felt like his world had been submerged in water. He couldn't hear anything, and everything seemed to slow down.

Ali's black pea coat stood out against her snowy white background. She looked down at her suddenly red blouse.

Several more gunshots erupted, this time from right beside Gunnar. The thugs, seeing Sullivan and the others, took off. Gunnar stumbled forward. She seemed miles away from him.

She was on her knees by the time Gunnar skidded beside her, catching her as she sunk against him. He pressed a hand firmly to her front. The blood was hot on his hand.

"Jesus, Ali, oh, fuck," he was blubbering. She blinked up at him, very pale.

"Call a goddamn ambulance!" Connor screamed at one of the patrons of the diner.

"Ali, look at me," Jimmy was in front of her. She twisted her head around to peer at Gunnar with her suddenly glassy green eyes.

"I love you, you know that, right?" her voice was surprisingly even. Gunnar nodded helplessly, feeling his own hot tears stream down his cheeks.

"I love you, too, Ali. You're gonna be ok," he said. She swallowed hard before trying to smile.

"I got our marriage license," she said, "'S in my pocket."

"I don't need a paper to spend the rest of my life with you," he told her. She let out a laugh that turned into a cough. She was choking on her own blood.

"I'm gonna spend the rest of my life with you," she promised. He pressed a kiss to her brow.

"I know, Ali."

"Don't let this city poison you, too," she said, reaching up to cup his cheek with her bloody hand. The metal of her engagement ring was warm against his skin.


Present Day

New Orleans, Louisiana

"She died before the ambulance got there," Gunnar said roughly, scrubbing at his eyes. Molly blinked back her own tears.

"Oh, Gunnar," she slid over next to him and wrapped an arm around his wide shoulders. He began to cry in earnest, doubled over, his face pressed into her shirt.

The night was hot, and they were both sticky with the humidity of the swamp. He smelled like stale vodka and smoke, but Molly held him while he cried.

It took a long time, but his tears finally ran dry, and the booze caught up to him. Molly left him sprawled out on the couch, sleeping deeply.


Billy was dozing in the easy chair was she unlocked the door. Both of the dogs perked up at his feet. He stood and opened his mouth to greet her, but she just wrapped her arms firmly around his middle, pressing her face into his chest. She was shaking.

"I love you," her voice was muffled against his t shirt. He cupped the back of her head. He wasn't going to ask. Whatever had happened out in that shack was between her and Gunnar. It should stay that way.