So I cried whilst writing this, I'm going to go ahead and openly admit that. But its not the end. The next chapter, however will be. As in THE END. Goodbye, Intervals. And given this story has been with me for 8 years, I'm dreading it. But all good things...

I'll still be working on Rise of Green Street and I hope you're enjoying that; the drama doesn't kick off until the next chapter I'm about to post so granted its been a slow start but I promise it gets better. Now please read and enjoy, and please please please review.

And for the record, I had a PM about requests for fics and I'm happy to! If there's something you really want to see then let me know, I'm happy to write shorts on demand :) Any excuse for more time with Pete and Allie.

Jesus, if I'm this emotional now what the hell will the next chapter be like? o_o Bring tissues, kids. I love you all, El xx

Pete woke suddenly, immediately slamming his hand against his chest to check he still had a pulse; if it wasn't so desperate, he would have laughed but every night since he'd left hospital, this is what his life had become. Gone were the nights where he would dream about laying on beaches with Allie, chasing his kids around the garden or being called up for England captain.

In their place were ugly images of darkness and blood and dust, assaulting his brain over and over until he felt like he couldn't breathe. Turning his head, he frowned when he saw the side of the bed where Allie was usually sprawled was empty. The clock informed him in it was just gone 2.30am so that meant one thing...

He smiled when he heard the faint splash and pushed himself up, wincing just slightly as his chest seemed to swell and then suck itself back in. Padding out of the bedroom and down the long hallway, he wondered if his body would ever truly recover. He was a patchwork quilt these days with all his stitching, the odd metal plate here and there. Jogging down the curved staircase and making his way through the colossal kitchen to the French doors which were wide open, letting in what felt like the first of the spring breeze.

Walking around to the pool, he stopped for a moment, watching her as she floated, her arms up by her head, her eyes closed to the stars, a small smile on her full lips.

She was perfect.

"I'd heard there was a peeping Tom in the area," her voice carried over to him and he grinned. "My money was on Swill,"

"He doesn't have the stealth," he called back, his heart soaring as she giggled and turned in the water to face him. "Fat bastard couldn't run from the old bill if their shoe laces were tied together and he had a 20 minute head start,"

"Uh huh," she cocked her head at him and kept her shoulder beneath the water. He knew she was naked, she could tell from the way his chest rose and fell quickly, his fists clenching at his sides. "Might go into the deep end in a minute," she smiled. "Fancy giving me something to hold onto?"

"Alyssa Harding," Pete whistled and shook his head. "My mother warned me about girls like you,"

"Oh really?"

"Yeah," he winked, stripping his shirt from his body and then his boxers. "I was just hoping she was right,"

Allie laughed, her eyes drifting over his hard, muscled body as he jumped into the pool moving over to her and grabbing her from under the water, making her shriek.

"How're the war wounds?" she asked when he surfaced, reaching up to brush the water from his eyes. "Ribs holding up?"

"Well they're not on my mind right now," he whispered, his lips covering hers. She sighed as he moved them back through the water as one until they were pushed up against the wall, her legs tangled with his.

Allie moaned as he kissed his way down to her neck and began sucking and nipping at the skin, his hands under the water moving over her skin, down her back, over her breasts, between her legs.

"Pete," she moaned, biting down on his shoulder. "Jesus..."

"I know," he mumbled in her ear, meeting her eyes and shaking his head. "I missed you so much."

He didn't break eye contact with her as he pushed inside of her, fighting the urge to close his eyes as the pleasure he had only ever known with her swept through his body in waves; she kissed him gently and then pulled back with a loud moan, her head lolling back as he began to move, his lips on her throat as he coaxed them both towards ecstasy.

The world around them seemed to stop as it always did; the events of the last month disappearing into an unfathomable memory which neither cared to carry with them. It was nearly an hour later they found themselves in the gazebo wrapped in blankets, the wind picking up around them still warm enough to stay warrant staying outside.

Pete's hand moved lazily through her hair, coaxing the rapidly developing knots from the chlorine in it as she drew patterns on his chest, pressing lazy kisses along the skin until she lay her heard down, smiling when she heard his heart thumping away beneath.

"God, I love that sound,"

Pete smiled, kissing the top of her head and pulling her up so they were face to face, tracing his fingers over her features and swallowing hard when she kissed his finger, gently biting on the tip for a moment.

"You've been quiet," he told her.

It caught her off guard and she thought about making light of it but the look in his eyes told her he knew better, that she wasn't getting out of this one.

"Its been a weird two weeks," Allie conceded, closing her eyes as his hand skimmed down her back.

"Well given I was unconscious and pissing through a tube for most of it, do you wanna clue me in?" he smirked as she laughed softly, shaking her head.

She didn't speak, instead staring at the West Ham crest on his chest. focusing on the rise and fall of it, the warmth of his skin, the fact that here they were, laying together, happy.

"What if I said I wanted to leave London,"

Pete blinked, staring at her as though she were mad; where the fuck had that come from?

"Leave as in..."

"As in get out, move away, move abroad!" she laughed. "Anywhere. Just...away,"

Pete pursed his lips and sat up, bringing her with him, his arms still around her as they sat side by side. He stared at her left hand and then his own, the silver bands around each hand a testament to everything they had been through; like the metal itself, they weren't unscathed, the odd scratch here and there but they were still solid.

"I'd say this is the house you grew up in, this is where all our friends, our families live, its where our kids have started out, its where we met," Pete looked at her seriously. "I'd say that given how much you love this place, I'm more interested in why you'd want to move than where,"

Allie tugged his t-shirt tighter to her, suddenly cold. She didn't want to do this, not when this evening had been so perfect.

"I just...want a change,"

"Right," he nodded. "When most women say that they mean cutting their hair or becoming a fucking vegetarian, not fleeing the country,"

"I'm being serious," Allie shook her head, not returning his smirk.

"I gathered that," Pete scrubbed his face with his hands tiredly. "This wouldn't have anything do to with what you were talking to Benjamin about in the kitchen earlier?"

Allie snapped her head up, staring at him in horror. Her blood turned to ice in her veins and she fought the urge to sob then and there, to tell him she was sorry.

"Relax, he didn't say anything," Pete shook his head. "Other than, 'brother I know it sounds like some sordid affair shit but if it was you know I'd have high fived you by now'"

Allie laughed with him; yeah, that sounded like Benjamin.

"But the cheeky shit wouldn't tell me anything else," he caught her chin between his fingers and stared at her pleadingly. "Baby, whatever happened, you need to tell me, alright? I can't make it better if you don't tell me,"

"You can't..." Allie swallowed hard and shook her head, her voice thick with tears. "You can't make this better. No one can,"

"Sounds like a challenge," he smirked, resting his forehead against hers and hoping to coax a smile out of her. He didn't.

"This place is nothing but ghosts now," she told him, her eyes wide and scared. "Nothing...nothing about this place is good anymore. Lara died, I lost you twice, twice Pete in eight years I've heard someone say you're dead," she sobbed, shaking her head. "We've been stalked, shot, beaten, had our children threatened. How can you want to stay here?"

"Because its my home," Pete levelled with her. "Because I don't look at this city and see any of that. I see the train station where I met the girl I ended up marrying, I see the park where my little girl took her first steps, I see the hospital my son was born in. Every day I'm with you...it takes the bad stuff away, Allie. I'm not running away from a few stupid memories that..."

"A few stupid memories," Allie looked at him, her face a mask of confusion as she shook her head slowly. "People have died, Pete. I saw a woman blow her fucking brains out a few months back; I watched a man run a knife over my daughter, stab my husband. How many people do we have to bury before we draw the line? These aren't bad memories. A bad memory is getting your car keyed or remembering Swill pissing in the pool at our wedding reception when he thought everyone had left! This is..."

She snorted and stood up, dropping her head into her hands as she paced the gazebo, her bare feet leaving wet, delicate foot prints on the wood. Pete watched her, knowing better than to say or do anything. Whatever was going on in her head was big and he wasn't going to push it.

"I don't feel safe here anymore," she whispered.

"Allie," Pete sighed, rubbing his forehead tiredly. "Baby, I know how scared you were that day, I was too, I know I don't remember a lot of it, but I..." he stopped, pulling himself to his feet and mirroring her body language leaned back on the panelling opposite her, watching as she chewed her nails nervously. "Whatever happened, we can get through it. I know you're upset..."

"Upset?" she looked at him, her face pale and streaked with tears. "You have no idea what I've been through the last two weeks. You as you so poetically put it were pissing through a tube while I was.."

She stopped, biting her lip and staring at her ground. Pete clenched his fists, wanting to be patient with her but not willing to let her pretend this was all happening to her, to up root their entire family because she was having a crisis of faith.

"While what, Allie?" he snapped. "Huh? I get that you went through hell and I am seriously fucking trying here to make it better but you won't open up. All you'll do is give me ultimatums with no explanation, what the fuck am I supposed to do with that?"

"Trust me," she pleaded. "Just..give me this. For once I don't want there to be a fight or a reason, I just want out."

"From what?" Pete shouted. "Jesus, that's all I'm asking you to give me. I get how fucked up the last eight years have been, I've been right there with you-.."

"Except for when you were in a month long coma when I was pregnant," she hissed. "Or having your skull put back together the month before our wedding or laying in coma number two. I had to sit there staring at you and all I could think of was, how did this become my life? I married the man I love, I have two gorgeous kids, I have what most people can only dream of and look at me! Sat here staring at my husband while nurses practically fit him for a fucking toe tag!"

"So its my fault," he snorted, rubbing his jaw and nodding. "All of this is my fault, I get it. I fucked up your life, I know that. You could have had-."

"I don't want anything but you," Allie cried. "I never have and I never will, but you don't understand..."

She stared at her feet for a long time, the tiny butterfly toe ring Lara had given her on her fifteenth birthday still glittering away, taking her focus from the horror of what she was about to say, knowing it would change everything. Knowing in her heart of hearts that to tell him was the only real choice she had.

"I was pregnant."

The words knocked the wind out of him. He froze, staring at her with wide, teary eyes shaking his head as she dropped her chin to her chest and sobbed. No. No, please fucking God, no...

"I didn't know," she whispered, looking at him so brokenly that he staggered back, his heart breaking into a million pieces. "I was in hospital the day they brought us in after the river, I thought...I thought I was just cut. Or I'd broken something...Ben was in the room when they told me and I...I made him promise. They said I was just over a month...the fall in the warehouse made me...they tried their best...I lost it." she sobbed loudly, choking as her whole body wracked with sobs, her arms wrapping around her small frame as she bent over and wept. "I'm so sorry, Pete," she screamed. "I didn't know...he took my baby. I didn't even know I had them and he took them. I'm so sorry,"

Pete ran at her, grabbing her before she dropped to the floor and pulled her up into his arms, his hand cupping the back of her head, cradling her to him as he fell to his knees. She screamed into his shoulder, saying she was sorry over and over.

"Oi," he snapped, pulling her to face him and shaking her. "You don't say that to me, not now, not ever."

"I lost our baby and then I thought I was losing you..." Allie cried, shaking her head. "Pete..."

"I love you." He told her firmly, grabbing her face and forcing her to meet his eyes. "I love the fucking bones of you, Harding. My job is to protect you and I failed," his voice broke and he sobbed. "The only one who has to be sorry here, is me. Because I let you down. Baby, I'm so sorry." Pete pulled her into him and buried his face in her shoulder, weeping loudly. "I'm so so sorry,"

They stayed that way for over an hour, not speaking, just crying together until they fell asleep exhausted in the one place they still felt safe: each other's arms.

Allie blinked twice, her eyes opening to the morning sun; above her, the fairy lights on the roof of the gazebo still twinkled albeit dimly in the morning light, a light breeze wrapped around her and she shivered, shifting back into Pete's chest and then frowning when she felt nothing.

Turning her head, she saw he was gone, nothing but pillows and a groove in the beanbag where they had slept. It was then it caught her eye and she sat up, her eyes wide and shimmering with tears as she hugged her knees to her chest.

Along the panels of the gazebo were photos, so many she could barely count. The photo of her and Lara at their prom, one of her mother sat in this very gazebo with Allie on her lap trying to show her how to play the guitar, Harry, Allie and Richard in the pool, the boys all suited and booted the morning of her and Pete's wedding sat around the pool nursing beers, one of Allie heavily pregnant with Pete asleep, his head against her bump as she read a book. Others of their wedding day, their first dance, the first day they had brought home Poppy. The moment they had found out they were having Alex and had jumped into the pool fully clothed. Benjamin with Poppy on his shoulders and ice cream in his hair. Then one final picture at the bottom, on its own.

It was Allie and Pete on their wedding day, late that evening after everyone had gone and they had just sat side by side, their feet in the pool drinking champagne and planning their future.

Reaching out to run her fingers over it, Allie allowed the tears to run freely down her face as she saw the note underneath it, her husbands writing slightly smudged on the small post it note.

I'd follow you to the ends of the Earth if that's where you needed to go. But this will always be home. I love you more than life. Now get up, dickhead. Breakfast won't make itself.

Allie laughed, shaking her had as she used the back of her hands to wipe the tears from her face. She closed her eyes for a long moment, taking a deep shuddering breath as she did so. Then with a nod, she pulled herself to her feet and began walking towards the house, the sun seeping into her skin and warming her up. Reaching the French doors which were wide open, she peered into the huge kitchen and saw Alex in his highchair babbling away nonsensically to the toy hedgehog he was holding, her daughter sat on the counter, legs swinging as Pete stirred a large bowel next to her.

"Come on then smarty pants," he told her. "Try it this time,"

"Did you put golden syrup in it?" Poppy asked him, eyeing the spoon warily.

"Yes, your highness," Pete winked at her. "Now come on,"

Poppy put the spoon in her mouth and then wrinkled her face, choking slightly as Pete laughed at her and shook his head.

"Told you golden syrup was a mistake," he looked down at the pancake batter and shook his head. "We're forgetting something but it ain't that."

"Eggs,"

He looed up and met Allie's eyes, his breath catching as she smiled at him all emerald eyes and peachy lips. His best mate, the mother of his children, the woman he would grow old with.

"You never remember to put eggs in," Allie walked into the kitchen and yanked open the fridge door, grabbing a carton and holding them out to him. "Hence why we have a strict no cake baking policy in this house,"

"Eggs!" Poppy shook her head and hopped down from the counter, slapping her father's arm playfully. "That's what we forgot, dummy,"

"Alright master chef," he laughed, ruffling her hair. "Why don't you show me how its done,"

Taking the eggs from her mother, Poppy grinned up at her toothlessly and pulled on the hem of Pete's t-shirt she was wearing until Allie bent down to her level, wrapping her arms around her as she kissed her cheek.

"Morning mummy,"

"Morning gorgeous girl," Allie whispered, pushing some hair out of her eyes and watching as she ran over to Alex, climbing onto a chair next to his highchair and placing the bowl in front of him, talking to him about what she was doing as though the poor thing had a clue. She was so caught up in it that she didn't notice Pete standing behind her until his arms came around her waist.

"I was gonna bring you breakfast in bed," he nuzzled her neck.

"You can do it tomorrow," she promised him. "Any day you want for the next hundred years; we're not going anywhere,"

"Yeah?" Pete raised his eyebrows, turning her in his arms and smiling down at her softly. "My guilt trip worked then?"

He laughed when she shook her head and punched his side.

"Oi, do you have any idea how much blu-tac it took to get that lot up?" he smirked.

"I love you," Allie told him, looking up at him, her hands cupping his face. "I love you more than you'll ever know,"

"I know," Pete nodded, his face turning serious as he held her tighter. "I love you more." he swallowed hard and looked down. "About last night. The baby...I just wanna be here for you. I don't want you to be scared or feel like you aren't safe. You're not supposed to feel like that when you're with me,"

"I know," she cocked her head and smiled, tears on her lashes. "I'm sorry for shutting you out. And the baby..." she swallowed hard. "We'll get through this, I know we will. I just need you to hold my hand because...its just...everything..." she laughed sadly. "You know what? I just want to have breakfast with my family,"

"No running?"

"No running," she told him firmly. "No ghosts, no fights. Just us. That's all I need,"

Pete leaned down and kissed her lips softly, then her nose and forehead before returning his lips to hers then pulling back just enough to stare into her eyes, the love in them so fierce, so tireless, he wondered how he had gotten through 22 years of his life without her. Not for the first time since meeting Allie Harding, Pete Dunham envied no man.

How could he when he had her?

"Well all I need is breakfast," he told her with a smirk, reaching behind her to grab an apron, shoving it over her head and making her laugh. "So how's about you show me how its done?"

"I've done it!" Poppy shouted at them from where she and her brother were giggling, covered in pancake batter.

"Fucking hell," Pete muttered low enough for only Allie to hear before raising his voice. "How did you manage that?"

"I stirred it," his daughter stared at him blankly. "Really, really hard."

"If there was any doubt she was your daughter," he winked at Allie who gasped in outrage.

"Do you want my help or not, you cheeky shit?" she laughed, slapping his arm.

"No, I want pancakes," he told her. "And maybe a shower," he winked.

Allie laughed as he continued to tease her, walking over to their kids and hoisting Alex from his highchair, making the baby laugh loudly as Poppy carried on licking pancake batter from her fingers, screeching when Pete picked her up as well, threatening to put both of them in the bin.

As she watched them, Allie felt her heart soar, her eyes drifting over to the picture of her mother; they were so alike and yet they had only had nine years together. The blonde woman smiled at her, all sepia tone and sparkling eyes almost as though she was in the room, watching her grandkids play. Remembering the very last thing her mother had written to her, the final letter which she had opened on the day she had given birth to Poppy, Allie closed her eyes and smiled with tears running down her cheeks as she pictured her mother's beautiful handwriting.

Be happy, darling girl. More than anything in this world, be happy.

"I am," she whispered, opening her eyes again and staring at her family. "I am,"

ONE to go... T_T

Please PLEASE please review xx