A/N: I'm so sorry I suck. I just have been so busy – and these past weeks have been really tough, work and otherwise – so I just didn't have the time, energy, or inspiration to write. But I'm back now. Here is the final chapter!

Own Me

It had been a few weeks since his part-apology, part-request, and she literally could not take much more of anything, really. She felt like she was being split in two by her own self, one part selfishly crying out to her hopeless romantic side, pleading with her to go back to his arms because who was she kidding, she is still so completely in love with him, and the other part nobly appealing to her stubborn, righteous side, sternly schooling her not to go back, because she is not a person who would never compromise her morals and sense of justice and he deserves to suffer for what he did. As soon as she felt that one side was finally winning out, something would happen – an innocent board game, a meaningful look, a cry from her forever baby brother, a loud spat between her parents – and the other side would make a hell of a comeback, and she was back to square one. She felt twice-paralyzed, in her own personal limbo within the stasis of the house. She felt like she was drowning in the sea despite swimming as fast as she could.

She knew her inner battle couldn't wage for much longer, that she would have to make a decision soon, but such turmoil always crescendos before it finally peters out. She wasn't sure who she would find fallen on the battlefield.

All she knew was at night, when she dreamed of her war torn heart, the victor always had blonde hair and dark eyes.


"Want to play cards outside with me? I even made some lemonade."

"Okay."

She huffed a little sigh as she closed her book and stood up from the couch. It was a beautiful day out, and Constance and Michael were gone – she saw them leave early this morning with a bunch of suitcases, probably going on some long vacation because Michael killed a family dog or something like that and it wouldn't be good to have people digging around in the mountain that was the Langdon family's dirty laundry – so she didn't have to worry about either of them showing up unannounced and uninvited. She stretched her back, and a spasm near her right shoulder made her cry out sharply. She immediately felt his hand on her arm and when she looked up, she found eyes full of worry looking back at her and she felt like someone had punched her in the gut and the wind had been knocked out of her.

She could feel her inner battle wage just a bit harder in his favor, his obvious love and tenderness slaying another soldier of her righteous side.

"Are you okay? Vi?"

She brushed off his hand, determined not to let him know how much this small gesture affected her.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine – OW!"

Another spasm ripped down her back, forcing her to collapse back onto the couch, and she wondered if this pain was the physical manifestation of her battle, brought on by the closeness of one of the generals, the black king confronting the white at the end of the chess game.

"Vi!"

She could feel the couch sag under his weight, and she mustered the strength to give him a small smile to try to calm him down.

"I'm okay. It's nothing, just a spasm."

"But you cried out."

"It just took me by surprise, that's all."

Suddenly she felt herself being gently pulled onto his lap and his hands rubbing soothing circles on her shoulders and she almost moaned from how good it felt, and she at least had the decency to acknowledge to herself that the almost-moan wasn't just from the massage.

She could almost hear her selfish side whispering in her ear, coaxing her to give in.

See, this is what you're denying yourself. And for what? Some perverted sense of loyalty to a family that you despised even before all this happened? Chad was and is still right. Stop being a martyr. You want this. You want him. Take it. It's yours. He is yours.

"I just hate that you're in pain. I don't want you to ever feel pain. I swore I would protect you from it."

She rested her head in the hollow of his shoulder, melting into his chest as he rubbed the tenseness out of her muscles.

"Some may argue that pain is what makes a person who he or she is, that pain defines us and creates our innermost being."

"That's true. I defined myself that way for a long time. Before I met you, pain was all I knew. It consumed me. But that's not how I define myself anymore."

"It's not?"

His lips pressed a light kiss on her collarbone, and she shivered under his still-kneading hands.

"No."

The way he said that single syllable made her stomach feel like a cage of butterflies had been released, and they were all flapping away madly, trying desperately to find a way out of their acidic prison.

She couldn't help asking her next question even though she already knew the answer, but she wanted to hear it, oh how she wanted to hear him say it.

"How do you define yourself now?"

He wrapped his arms around her waist, and she could feel her righteous side lose even more ground, still struggling to put up one last desperate fight even as her toes curled when his lips hovered over the pressure point on her neck that he still knew drove her wild.

"I think you already know."

She couldn't breathe because this was it. This moment was the point of no return, the final stand, and she knew which side would win.

Who was she kidding?

She had always known which side would win.

"Maybe I just want to hear you say it."

She wiggled so his arms would loosen enough so she could turn around and face him. He reached out to caress her face and tuck her hair behind her ear, and the entire moment was just so full of love and sweetness she could feel the tears spilling over.

This was it. The end to her self-inflicted torment, the end of the soul-crushing battle that had been raging since she sent him away that night long ago, the end of her self-imposed martyrdom.

"Love. Love for you outweighs all the pain I've ever felt. You have replaced my pain with the only thing stronger than it. My love for you defines me now."

The battle was over, and the victor was exactly as she had seen in her dreams. She has chosen the boy with the blonde hair and the dark eyes.

She leaned down to give him a kiss, and as she came closer, she answered the question she knew was about to tumble from his lips.

"I remember what you asked me, Tate. That I would only kiss you if it meant I wanted to be with you forever. I mean forever this time."

His arms tightened around her hips this time, pulling her even closer to him.

"I hope you really, really mean that, because I will never let you go again."

"You'll never have to."

She pressed her soft lips to his bitten ones, and his fingers clasped onto her harder, as if he didn't want to risk her suddenly disappearing despite her contradicting words. He looked earnestly into her eyes when she pulled away slightly.

"You own my very soul, Vi. I love you."

This time, she had no problem admitting what she had always known to be true.

"You own mine. You will always own mine."


A/N: The end! Reviews make me happy.