Synopsis: Ashley has been waiting for this day in what feels like forever. Her wedding. With Chris. All she has to do is walk through those doors, letting her feet lead her down the aisle. And she'll be there. In front of him. But is it that easy? A story in which Ashley deals with the aftermath of all that she's done and the events of the mountain - all with the help of Chris. A companion story to 'After'.

Genre: Romance, Angst, Friendship

Ending: All but Emily survive + Josh

Rating: T/M - warnings: mental illness

A/N: Thank you all so much for sticking with me. It is not how I originally envisioned it to be at all but I'm really quite happy with the ending. Thank you to all my faithful readers. I hope I didn't let you down.

Epilogue

Love Never Fails

Three Months Later

The breeze blissfully teases the hem of my chiffon, white dress, the ends fluttering and twisting in the air. I laugh, pushing the skirt down, swearing at the wind for trying to flash my guests.

"Say cheese!" The photographer calls from behind his camera. I feel Chris squeeze me around the waist where he holds me. He glances at me knowingly, one quirk of his eyebrow the single sign I need to see. I smile, wrinkling my nose.

"Three," he mouths slowly and I lock my eyes onto his, following the movement of his mouth. "Two."

I bite my lip, hearing the clicking of the camera as the photographer takes sneaky shots of us.

"One."

"Mozzarella!" I yell with excitement, flinging my eyes to the camera just as Chris shouts, "Camembert!"

The crowd around us ripples with laughter just as the camera flashes.

I smile. Probably the widest I ever have done. So wide that my cheeks hurt.

It feels like it has taken us a long time to get here. Through nightmares and horrors and pills and friends. And ugly memories and facing our past. And sticking together. Always together. Like accidentally super-gluing hands together.

I've been taking my medication. The doctors say I'm steady... steadier. My vision has been clearer than before. I don't think I've seen a shadow or a flesh eating monster in weeks.

Emily comes to visit me sometimes though. She haunts me with the words; words I said to her, words I condemned her with. At first I wanted to scream, to run away, to fight her. But I've learned to live with her now. She's not so scary after all.

I think she forgives me.

Chris fumbles with his hands, listening to the photographer's directions. He was never much of a model. I watch him through contented lashes, one hand holding my bouquet, the other holding his. He looks good in his shirt and skinny tie. Even better than the first time around.

We decided that, this time, we didn't want the same kind of wedding. Maybe it was because the building was too confined or the decorations were too similar or that my dress reminded me of blood. Or maybe it was because we didn't have enough money to book a larger venue. Either way, Chris had swapped his traditional suit for a more relaxed outfit, and I had found a shorter, white dress on a budget; one that felt less constricting. One that felt like a new start.

And now, we swapped that tight, small venue for a tent in the heart of beautiful, endless fields ripe with springing flowers. And a sweet, kissing breeze. It's probably the furthest from a church. It's probably the furthest from the mountain. I like it that way.

Chris had asked if he could wear his spiderman costume underneath. I had just made a face at him and hit him over the head with a pillow. He's probably still wearing it anyway.

My old wedding dress is hanging up in our wardrobe, surrounded by other, rarely worn clothes. I haven't managed to build up enough courage to look at it. But someday I will. Maybe someday I won't hate it. And I think, maybe, I might just save it for a certain friend who could possibly be getting married in the near future.

"Look," Chris whispers against the skin of my cheek, pointing out into the crowd. I follow his finger, catching sight of a very giddy looking Jess with a close Matt at her side. It's good to see them looking so well. Chris told me that Jess managed to pass her first year of law school. It wasn't particularly with flying colours but it's enough for her to look visibly proud. And she's fighting for it.

And Matt. He looks less tired, less... less guilty. I think Jess has been keeping her eye on him, keeping him off the alcohol. She didn't let him go anywhere near the bar today. Maybe it's working. Maybe it's enough for him to do it for her. Maybe that's enough motivation. I hope so.

I wave quietly at them, seeing Jess' eyes light up, smiling so bravely back. She's come a long way. I hope she feels more included, more a part of us.

Mike doesn't stand so far away, watching on complacently, Wolfie close to his sides. After the tangled memories of Josh and what seeing him... last time had done to me, Chris had agreed that maybe our wedding this time should be simpler. Less people, less guests, less fuss. So we didn't have a best man. Or any bridesmaids.

Just us. And the minister. And a trickling crowd of people who care about us. Family. Parents. Friends.

But somebody had to bring the rings. And, as much as I love him, I didn't trust Chris enough to not lose them.

That's when Sam had sparked up with an idea. And, to Chris' horror, it had been Wolfie who had been pacing up the isle with two rings tied to a ribbon around his neck. I had just giggled and assured him that he was perfectly safe. I still think the two of them don't get along.

I think Mike has been doing well. He still gets the occasional flick of the eye towards him from people who still wonder if he's a murderer. But Chris assures me that he's feeling better. That he's fitting in more. And I think Wolfie helps. Everybody loves Wolfie.

Except Chris. Obviously.

The photographer smiles, thanking us for our time. He takes one last click of his camera before the crowds are allowed to mull around us again.

Chris lets out a long, dragging sigh. "I don't think I've felt more tense in my whole entire life," he mutters under his breath, his eyes looking wide with aching shock.

I laugh, knocking him with my arm. He passes me a slightly irritated but obviously adorable glance. "Oh," he raises his eyebrows amusingly, cocking me with a challenging stare. "Is that what you think, wife?"

A giddy smile tugs up my lips. I'm still not going to get used to that, even as I toy with the wedding band around my ring finger. It's so good to see Chris this... relaxed. Before he was so stressed. Maybe it was me making him so stressed.

But now... now I'm feeling better, I think he is too. I know he is. I can see it in the way his shoulders rest.

"Champagne?" A smooth Sam crosses the grass, sidling up to us, two flutes of bubbling drinks in her hands.

"Don't mind if I do," Chris grabs one as quickly as she appeared, downing it in one. I stare at him, my slack and wide open. Sam looks as shocked as I do. It only takes a second for Chris to glance at the both of us back and forth. "What?" He shrugs awkwardly. "I was nervous."

I giggle and Sam laughs. She passes a glance towards me and I almost grin. She wiggles her eyebrows at me. I blush.

"What?" Chris asks incredulously, sounding even more confused. "What?"

Sam finds my side, hooking her hand into my elbow and gently leading me away. And for the first time in a long time, it feels like she's not going to ask me how I'm feeling or how I'm holding up. I think she already knows. I think she can already tell.

"You gonna throw that bouquet any time soon?" She nudges me, her eyes dragging down to the flowers in my hand. Then she nudges her head in the direction of Jess and Matt. "I think some people could do with a shove."

I glance down at the pale yellow and sunflower orange flowers in my hands, feeling a smile creep up my face. "I can think of some other people who could use the same thing."

Sam blinks at me, looking equally as confused as Chris was a moment ago. I glance across at him. Nope. He still looks confused.

I give her an inside smile which makes her even more confused, and then I'm promising her I'll speak to her later. And then I'm slipping away, whispering across the grass to Chris' side.

"Hey there, stranger," he hooks his arm around my shoulders. "What did Sam want?" I catch a sight of his eyes. There's a flicker of concern there. It still feels like he needs to be here with me constantly. To protect me. As if someone is going to force a gun into his hand, or a lever into his grip. But he's been better. And I've been better. And maybe, someday, we won't need each other as much.

I hope not.

"Nothing much," I mutter with a gentle smile.

"Hey," Chris adds as if the thought has just occurred to him. I turn to him, watching him with every flicker of adoration. He deserves all the attention I can give him. "I just wanted to say... I know this is not what you originally wanted."

"Shh," I stop him, instinctively pressing a finger to his lips and smiling. He looks shocked, blinking back his surprise. "It's everything I could have ever wanted."

Slowly, his eyes relax and he smiles again and I drop my finger. But not before he can catch my hand and give it a squeeze. "Especially," I say, and it's a promise. It will always be a promise, "Since it's you."

And he looks as if he's been waiting to hear those words in forever. And I lean forward and lean up and I press my lips against his. Just like our very first kiss. This one with so much of the very same feelings, but so much more secure. So much more sure.

"I gotta go," I teasingly smile as I pull away. Chris blinks, his mouth opening and closing to object. But I've already slipped away.

Sam catches my look from across the field and I nod at her. She grins wildly and then shouts; "Bouquet toss!"

All the single – and those who still wish they were – girls scramble in a pile, arms outstretched into the air, waiting for the flowers to be flung into the air. I smile. I smile and I smile and I smile. And I turn around, my back to them, and throw the bouquet as hard as I have ever thrown anything before.

And, just as they are walking across the path, completely uninvolved and unaware, the bouquet comes sailing straight out of the air and into their hands. A perfect hit.

I glance around, my lips flying up in a smile when I see who's caught it.

His eyes glance up in shock and confusion and definitely a lot of alcohol. And I see him glancing around, looking for the source of this random pile of flowers in his hands.

I smile so happily with my eyes. And I cannot believe how peaceful - how pleased - I am to see him.

Josh.