I woke up with a groan, clutching my head as it pounded in pain. My immediate thought was Hansel.

I pushed past Mina, who was assessing my body for injuries, and ran toward the house at full speed.

I found him in a hole in the floor and wasted no time in jumping down to get to him. Damn the injuries. I was slapping his face when I got to him, trying desperately to wake him up, panicking, already grieving what could be his death.

No no no no no, please no.

His eyes blinked open on my next slap, and he grabbed at my hands, eyes squinting in confusion, bottom lip bleeding, eyebrows furrowed, so very adorable but hurt that I wanted to squeeze him up yet put him in a bubble at the same time. Where no one could touch him. Where he couldn't be hurt.

Then I kissed him. In relief. In joy. In more relief. In love.

His lips stilled at first in surprise before he was kissing me back harder.

Our relationship flashed behind my eyes. From our first kiss to our first goodbye. From our mad reunion to our repeated night. In these visions, we fit. We made sense, and the story of who we were catapulted into who we were now.

When our bodies moved closer together, that's when we noticed the knife.

My heart stopped again.

He groaned leaning back into the wall for support, then noticed my face, my scared expression, and to calm me, held my face in his hands repeating, "I'm okay, it's okay, I'm okay," even as he struggled out breaths of exhaustion and pain.

"I might be able to help with that." I'd forgotten about Mina, but more than any other time in my life, I was glad I had a witch as a best friend.

I stepped back silently and stoically, refusing to look at him until she finished, though I felt his eyes on me. If he had died that would have been it, me and Hansel would have no more Hansel and that was worse than us not being together, that was worse than whatever pain he could ever cause me by leaving again.

Knowing that he was gone, permanently.

That would break me.

I loved him, and he could have died.

I had no words.

It seemed to take forever, Mina's healing. I stared at the wall opposite me, and it blurred together with the tears I refused to let fall.

This one thing, the possibility of his death, broke everything inside of me. The indecision of who he was to me was no longer there. The question of if I could live without him was gone.

I was in love with Hansel. I had always been in love with him, and there was no more denying that for me. I felt lost when he wasn't by my side. When he died, the breath left me until he was revived right in front of me and I, too, was alive again.

Hansel ran a hand over his now closed scar, and a surprised chuckle left his lips. "I guess it's good you are a witch."

"A good witch," Mina corrected with a weak smile.

"And what about you?" He turned to me. "What are you?"

I could only give him a closed-lip smile. "I'm a witch hunter, just like you." I uttered. "But I'm also happy that you're alive."

I stepped closer to him and he wrapped one of his arms around me, careful of his wound. I tucked my head in his neck breathing in his scent, feeling his pulse on my lips, loving the warmth that radiated from him. He was alive. He was perfect. He was Hansel.

"Don't ever do that again. I thought you were dead."

His smirk filled my heart. "This wasn't the reaction I was expecting. I was expecting more music, more dancing at my death."

I lifted my head to show him exactly what I thought of his joke and to let him know I was serious when I spoke my next words. "I don't want you to die. Not ever." Mist came to my eyes again at the thought of it and I buried myself right back in his arms. "I can't lose you, Hansel. I can't."

He patted my head, shushing me. "Look at me Charlotte. I'm not going anywhere."

I lifted my head and he ran his thumb across my cheek. "You better not." I demanded, standing up taller. "But we still have to go get the bitch who did this to you."

"Of course we do. She has my sister."

We both stood tall now, supporting ourselves instead of leaning into each other, but the smiles on our lips were the same. And his strong hold on my hand mimicked my own.

Hansel and Charlotte. Together at last.