A/N: I am so in love with these two. Sorry I keep spending so much time on them (although interestingly I heard Season 4 IS going to be dealing with their relationship in the aftermath of Emma's surgery, so I'm curious to see how that will all shake down in "real life")!

A/N2: Please extend huge hugs and thank yous to my beta, MarinaBlack1! She is the cat's meow AND the cat's pajamas. Seriously. I also need to thank Persepholily, who's so kind to read these chapters in advance, and give me that last little ego-boost I need to actually post!

A/N3: Lastly, my fellow Dylemma darlings, I thank YOU. Your kind words and generosity in leaving feedback are my favorite (well, let's be frank, my ONLY) compensation, so... MWAH! I LOVE YOU ALL VERY MUCH!

Part 5

Will Decody kept finding little things for Emma to do: exercises the therapists had shown him or a father-daughter Scrabble re-match or those damn breathing tests. She knew what he was doing: distracting her. She also knew he knew it was not working.

"Let's take a walk," he suggested when he caught her peeking at her phone to check for texts. For probably the tenth time that morning.

Emma faked a smile. "Yeah, okay." She waited until her father's back was turned before palming the phone and slipping it into the pocket of her bathrobe.

So Dylan hadn't called or texted since rushing off to be with Gunner. So what? It didn't mean anything. It had been barely two days. Two days. Really, on the grand scale of Time (with a capital "T") it was nothing at all, not even a blip, hardly the length of a sigh…

… Emma sighed.

"It's the twenty-first century, Emma. You can call a boy if you want," Will grumbled. Clearly he had given up all pretense at ignorance of his daughter's dilemma. "It wouldn't seem desperate, if that's what has you worried." Emma wrapped her arm tightly around her father's elbow as they turned a corner in the hall.

"No, that's not… it… entirely," she admitted. "If I call him, I'm reminding him that I'm here, and that's not fair to him. He has a life outside of this hospital, and it's important to him, and if he doesn't have to… you know, worry about me, then he can concentrate on what he needs to do. I don't want to keep him away from his family or the farm, or make him feel like he has to choose."

"All that from the lack of a call?" Will asked. "Relationships are certainly more complicated now than when I was a lad."

Emma leaned against her father. "Dad… tell me about it? Please?"

"Tell you about what?"

"You know." It had been years since Emma asked for the story of how her parents met. At first it was out of anger over her mother's departure, then life had gotten in the way and Emma had grown too busy. Now, though, she had the time. And a more personal interest. Will smiled, nostalgia brightening his eyes.

"A boring story, really," he began as he patted her hand. "We were students at university, and just like in the fairy tales, she had no idea I existed. I pined for her silently – as any good scholarship boy should – until one night at the local pub –"

"Emma!"

His voice. When had she started reacting like this to Dylan's voice? Emma bit her lips together to steady her nerves, and looked back over her shoulder. Maybe she should have been more concerned that he was seeing her in a pair of wrinkled pajama pants and the faded Chinese silk robe her father had given her for Christmas years ago… but she couldn't bring herself to care. He was so handsome it was unfair. His smile was broad and white, his ocean blue eyes crinkled at the corners, and as he jogged to catch up with the Decodys Emma felt weak in ways that had nothing to do with her surgery.

"You're a miracle, you know that?" Dylan said, reaching out to her, fingers grazing her elbow. His touch (gentle, hesitant, as if afraid to break her) matched his tone. Emma shivered in response, a reaction both men misinterpreted. Will handed her off to Dylan and left to fetch a shawl from her room. Dylan pulled her close, their initial light contact paling in contrast to the warm strength of his arms wrapped around her shoulders, his rough beard scrubbing her cheek. Emma took advantage of the unexpected proximity to breathe in the scent of him, her first real chance – ever – to do so. She inhaled deeply, overwhelmed by the combination of old leather, crisp soap, and the coffee he must have finished on his drive down to Portland. A low hum of appreciation escaped Emma and Dylan tensed, worried.

"No, I'm fine," she assured him. He relaxed his hold; she hid her disappointment by clearing her throat. "How's Gunner? I was going to call, but I figured you'd let me know, and I didn't want to interrupt anything between you two." Emma gasped. "N-no! Not that I think there'd be anything to interrupt, I mean, obviously I know you're both… that sounded – you know what? I'm just going to shut up now. God."

Dylan grinned (oh shit, how she loved his grin) and shook his head at her.

"Definitely nothing to interrupt. I just – I had to take care of some things on the farm. I've been gone a lot."

"Right. Of course." She let him lead her further down the hall. "So… what did that Chick Hogan guy want, anyway?"

"Hm? Nothing."

"He assaulted Gunner, Dylan. That hardly sounds like nothing."

"Nothing important. Just some mix-up with Caleb."

"But Caleb's… gone, so…"

"Yeah. I told him that." Emma could tell he was keeping part of the story from her. It pissed her off. They both knew how damaging secrets were.

"Okay, look, I get that you're used to being on your own with… well, with pretty much everything, but that's not… I'm not interested in being shut out by yet another member of your family. So whatever you're not telling me, I hope you've thought really damn hard about it, and I hope you know what you're doing." It sounded an awful lot like a threat. Dylan's eyes widened, and she held her breath.

"I'm not shutting you out, I just…" Dylan sighed heavily. Swore lightly. "I can't…Emma, you can't ask me about this. Please." He looked at her like someone had just kicked his puppy – no, he looked more like the poor kicked puppy – and Emma gave in. She stepped into his personal space again, the conversation and the excitement and the walk all catching up to her at once. She grabbed for Dylan's shoulder and he wrapped one arm around her waist.

"…Fine. I trust you," she whispered. She could hear the exhaustion leaking into her voice.

"I really should get you into bed," he urged. Emma laughed at Dylan's sudden embarrassed blush. "…Yes, okay. But you know what I mean."

"Mm-hm. Still tempted to give you a hard time though." Emma leaned against Dylan's chest as he guided her back to the room. "Just… maybe a nap first."

"Sure."

"Dylan… where'd my dad go?"

"He, uh… I think he kind of cleared out."

Emma sighed. "He seems to do that a lot, doesn't he?" She let Dylan lift her into bed. It probably should have felt romantic and sexy, but under these circumstances it really didn't. "I think he likes you."

"What are you talking about?"

"My father spends most of his time trying to shelter me from the world, especially boys and sex. But… he doesn't do any of that with you."

"It's been kind of crazy around here, I'm sure he'll try to scare me off when he gets a moment," Dylan promised her. He coiled a strand of Emma's hair between two fingers as he spoke. She wondered if he even knew he was doing it.

Emma's eyes drifted shut but she kept talking, worried about losing Dylan again so soon after he had returned. She licked her lips and searched for a topic. "How's Norman?"

"…Norman?" He always sounded so guarded whenever his brother's name came up.

"Yeah. I worry. I want him to be okay, and I… don't get me wrong, I love Norma of course, but I see the pressure she puts on him. It's got to be a strain, and one he doesn't need right now."

"I know what you mean. I'm, uh… I actually have this idea, you know. To help him? It's just… it's still early. I can't really go into it yet. But as soon as I can, Emma, I promise…"

"… I understand." Emma's previous warning still clung to the air between them. She forced her eyes open, anxious now about Dylan.

He was watching her. He was staring as if to memorize her face, and in a completely unexpected way it was romantic and sexy. She reached for his hand. "Do you have to go back?"

"Eventually. But I can… I have time right now. I can stay if you want."

"Only if you want to, though. No pressure." Emma smiled to let him know she was teasing. He snorted and narrowed his eyes at her, and bent for the kiss she had been craving since the night he left. His lips were salty-sweet, his fingers at her temple calloused but gentle. Emma gave up trying to play games (games sucked anyway, nobody ever won) and whispered a selfish plea against his parted mouth: "Stay."

Since the surgery Dylan had been so careful with her. Like she was made of glass. But this time he grunted a low wordless assent and his mouth slid more roughly over her lips than usual, echoing the slight pressure of his chest drifting over hers. It was a subtle roll up the length of her body, and Emma found herself responding viscerally: a tightening low in her stomach, a heat that spread outward until even her toes burned. She bit at his lip, pressing upward, hungry to feel the weight of him again.

"Shh," he warned her at one point, as his mouth traveled her jaw to her ear. She giggled in reaction to the ticklish feeling and he broke away, staring down at her in amusement.

"So that's a no for ears?"

"No. Sorry." Emma tried, and failed, to hold back her smile.

"That's okay," Dylan answered with a wink and a grin usually reserved for naughty little boys, "There's plenty of other places."

"Oh, really? What if I'm ticklish everywhere?"

"Well. I guess we'll have to find out if that's true."

Will Decody froze just outside the open door to Emma's hospital room, halted by the sound of hushed voices and shared laughter. He took a silent step in retreat and leaned against the wall, miserable.

He was not a bad man. He knew that. He had made hard choices to keep Emma safe – sacrifice upon sacrifice until he no longer remembered a life outside of hers. His wife, his career, his native England: each had been offered up on the altar of Emma's illness. And still, it was not enough. He dreaded her death far more than his own because he knew – with a certainty no parent should feel – he would outlive his young, terrifying, vibrant daughter. And when that day came – when the brightest star in his universe was snuffed out as easily as a guttering candle – Will Decody would be left a broken shadow of a man, lost without his light.

… He was not a bad man. Had he not warned off Emma's few suitors in an effort to protect them? Had he not been brutally honest with Norman Bates?

But then came Dylan. And instead of doing the right thing – sending him running – Will had let him in. Why?

Dylan was so soft-spoken – something within him already broken – and in a rare moment of weakness Will had taken advantage of the young man's empathy, because… because the burden of carrying Emma's illness alone was too much on most days, and bloody impossible on others. He had shared his worries, and it had felt so good and he'd tried to convince himself that it was right and just to do so, that it was fair warning, that any bright person would run away and not look back… and it was a comforting lie. And Dylan had not run.

He'd stayed. Dylan, with his gentle stammer and his own secret burdens and his way of looking at Emma like he hoped she might save him from drowning… he'd inserted himself into their lives without a backward glance.

Dylan Massett had given Will a new future with Emma; his dream had come true, but it was all a tainted nightmare now because the cost was far too high. The latest and greatest sacrifice would be Dylan himself, and it broke Will Decody's heart.

He covered his face with his hands to stifle a low sob.

NOW the bad news (kinda)...I leave tomorrow to fly halfway around the world. I will be in China for three weeks. It should be a great chance to get some wonderful writing done, but internet access can be tricky - and certain websites are more difficult to access than others. I have NO idea if I'll be able to access FFN! But if not, I will try to email chapters to Marina and have her post them here for me. My point is: if I'm quiet, please consider it merely a mini-hiatus. I WILL BE BACK! I love you all!

xoxo,

J.V.