"I heard he's awake," Bex called as she approached. I'd drifted off as I sat against the wall, and her voice roused me.

I didn't answer; I just pulled my friend close and breathed a sigh of relief.

"I heard you saved him."

"It's what I do," Bex shrugged. "I heard you ran 137 miles for help."

"It wouldn't have been fast enough," I said. I'd known it was true as I ran, but out there in wilderness, I couldn't dare admit it to myself. Now, having sat by Zach's bedside for the better part of three days, there was no denying that he would have died if Bex and Macey hadn't found him.

Bex couldn't argue. "He's alive," she said softly. "And you're alive. That's all that matters."

I didn't answer. She draped an arm around my shoulder, and I leaned into her. "Macey and Liz?" I asked.

"They're here, they're sleeping." I hadn't realized how late it was. My internal clock hadn't reset yet, and the lack of windows didn't help. "Your mom came the first night, after they debriefed you, but you were asleep and she didn't want to wake you up. None of us did. Mr. Solomon's here too, but he sat with Zach from the moment we brought him in until the moment you arrived, and I haven't seen him since."

It didn't surprise me. I was sure Joe Solomon was a wreck, and he wouldn't have wanted any of us to see him that way.

"Cammie," my Mother was there, and her arms wrapped around me, the relief apparent in her voice. She pulled back and held me at arm's length. "How are you, kiddo?"

"Zach's awake," I smiled. "So, much better."

Her hand brushed the swelling on the back of my head and I winced. "You have got to stop doing that," she scolded, as if I walked around every day just asking to be knocked unconscious.

She turned to Bex. "Rebecca, it appears you have quite a bit of explaining to do to a certain joint task force, so you had better come with me."

Bex grinned. "Well," she rolled her eyes. "That certain joint task force owes me quite a few favors, so I think they can wait a minute."

"Rebecca..." my mother warned.

"I will be right there," she huffed. She hugged me. "You tell Waffles that if he ever tries to pull anything like this again, I'll kill him."

I laughed. I waited. At long last, Agent Townsend appeared in the hallway. He looked irritated when he realized I hadn't moved. "Alright, Ms. Morgan, you can have him back now," he said, the annoyance apparent in his tone. I didn't waste a moment.

"Hey, Gallagher Girl," Zach called softly. He sounded weary, but just hearing his voice slowed my racing heart. A tear of relief slid down my cheek.

"None of that," he scolded, smiling up at me. "I heard you were pretty incredible out there."

I shook my head, arguing. "This was all my fault. I should have run in the first place." I admitted, for the first time, the thought that had been haunting me. "None of this would have even happened if I'd just gotten out of that apartment."

"That's crazy and you know it," he challenged. "They'd have gotten Elisa or the whole formula, or both. You and I are expendable."

I hated his words, but I knew they were true. I'd known they were true for a long time. To choose this life was to understand that you were likely, one day, to simply be collateral damage.

"Besides," he smiled. "No one has ever run 137 miles for me before."

"I had to," I shrugged. "So I did."

"I heard some operatives had to do quite a bit of explaining to a very confused minister when they picked you up in a helicopter."

I nodded, vaguely remembering.

He smirked as he continued. "About why you and your husband were hiking in the Chequamegon-Nicolet after dark and without any provisions?"

I'll admit it, I blushed a little.

"Gallagher Girl, I may be on a lot of drugs right now, but I'm pretty sure you ran 137 miles to save my life and then called me your husband."

I blushed a little more.

"I think you should know that makes me very, very happy."

"The morphine probably helps," I quipped. Zach smirked and shook his head.

"Nothing like seeing your beautiful face." His eyes grew serious as he studied me. "I was so afraid I'd never see you again. I was so afraid I'd miss out on our future before it even started."

"Me too," I admitted. He took my hand, and the silence echoed around us. The joint knowledge that, no matter how hard we worked, war and death and pain and fear would always raise their ugly heads filled our thoughts. And we both knew that we would always be called to fight them.

That calling was more important than our own hopes, our own dreams, and our own loved ones. But it didn't mean we couldn't have any at all.

"Let's get married. Right now." The words surprised me as they fell past my lips, but I meant every one of them.

"Cam, you don't have to, not because of this. . ."

"I want to," I cut him off.

"Cammie, no," he said, forcefully . "You need to think about this. We are not getting married just because I almost died. We can wait, I am totally fine with waiting."

"That's nice," I said. "But I'm not."

And so I got down on one knee, at the edge of his hospital bed and stared into the eyes that had held me like an anchor since the day we met.

"I have loved you for so long, Zach. We've already been through more torture and death and destruction than most people encounter in a lifetime (he snickered a little) and I'm reminded every day that we may not have that much time left. But whatever time we do have, I want to spend it married to you."

He smiled.

"Marry me, Zachary Goode?"

He paused for a moment, as if considering. "Yeah, okay," he said, finally. "I mean what man can turn down a proposal that includes words like torture, death and destruction?"

I smacked him on the shoulder.

"Ow, Cammie you know I am not just laying here for fun . . ." He protested.

"I also know for a fact that you were shot in the leg," I argued.

"Just get over here so I can kiss you."

So I did, and he drew me to him. And in all the years Zach had been kissing me, I don't think he'd ever kissed me quite like that. Happiness raced through me as I squeezed myself into the hospital bed beside him and rested my head on his shoulder.

I was home.

AN: One more chapter on Wednesday. Thank you all for spending the summer sharing this story with me. My personal life has been a bit crazy, and spending time writing for all of you has been a lovely break from the madness.

I've been kind of casually working on an intermediate story, that would take place around the time Cammie graduates from Georgetown, and involve the (self-invented) Pakistan incident I reference so much in this story as the sort of turning point of Zammie's relationship. I don't know if anyone would be interested in reading it, as it would be a bit more Zammie in conflict with each other rather than the world. Anyway, if you'd like to read something like that, let me know, and maybe I'll start working on it a little more seriously.

Thanks again for joining me, I hope you really liked this chapter.