I apologize profusely for the delay. Apparently when attempting to work on more than one thing at once, I end up doing none of it? Go figure.

Alas, part 2, of my finale arc – allow me a bit of creative license with Joan still being in the hospital after Annie's return. Auggie said a day & a half of travel, I believe? Regardless, I liked it this way...

Hope you guys do too!

(P.S, a couple Castle nods towards the end there. For reasons.)

So show me family;

All the blood that I would bleed.
I don't know where I belong,

I don't know where I went wrong,
but I can write a song. ❤

He hates the smell of hospitals.

Everyone does, that's a given, he realizes – but it's enough, walking these halls now, to make him feel almost physically ill.

"Hey–" Annie squeezes his arm, her voice jarring his attention, as they start to turn a corner.

"You okay?"

"I'm good," he assures her, half-heartedly. "Just not used to being in a hospital for happy news, I guess."

And he knows when the weight of the words reach her, can feel it in the intensity of her stare, the shuddering inhale of breath she takes before she tightens the grip she has on him.

"Me either," she murmurs.

Her heart swells more than just a little bit at the sight in front of her as they entire the room.

Husband and wife with their child ––

Reminding her, that even in the darkest days, there's a possibility for joy.

Joan blinks up at her warmly, before motioning with her head to the bundle in her arms.

"Annie, Auggie – there' s somebody we want you to meet."

She takes a few tentative steps forward, Auggie close behind.

"He looks just like you, Arthur."

Her head snaps back to offer him a fruitless, but affectionate, eye-roll.

"As a matter of fact," Joan says, huffing out a short laugh, "he does."

Arthur grins down to his wife. "He has your eyes."

"He's beautiful," she cuts in.

"Do you want to hold him, Annie?" Joan asks, meeting her gaze again.

"I – uh – " She takes a breath and nods. "Sure."

"Alright," Joan whispers, more to her son than her, "c'mere."

She bends down slightly as Joan places the baby boy in her arms, the newborn staring up at her with wide eyes, surprisingly still save for the reach of his tiny little hand towards her face.

Oh he is so incredibly beautiful.

"Annie," Arthur, calls, a lightness to his tone, "you're allowed to breathe while you hold him."

Her smile is a little watery as she nods, and before she has the chance to respond out loud, Auggie has stepped up directly behind her, running his hands along her arm to find the crook of her elbow where Mackenzie's head is resting.

"Who can blame her in the presence of this little guy?" he whispers, stroking the baby's bright pink cheeks.

And his breath is ghosting across her neck as his words are met with approval, curled fingers now wrapped around Auggie's pinky.

If she was having trouble breathing before, this moment–is certainly not helping.

"He likes you," she manages to croak out.

"Well, and that he can't be blamed for," Auggie retorts, grinning, and her eyes leave the baby to seek his gaze, and she smiles back, just barely manages to exhale.

"Certainly not."

"Annie, do you think you could be so kind to grab me a cup of coffee?" she suddenly hears Joan ask her.

She nods. "Sure, of course."

Stepping away from Auggie, she moves to lay Mackenzie back in Joan's arms.

"There's a machine not too far down the next hall, and to your left–" Joan takes a beat to look up at her husband.

"Arthur, why don't you go with her, show her where it is?"

"No problem, Dear," he answers. "I think I know when we're not wanted," he addresses her with a smile, leaning back down after to kiss Joan's temple.

She hums out a short laugh before she turns around, walking past Auggie.

"Want anything?"

"A lot of things," he answers, catching her hand, it's wistful and quiet. "But a coffee'll do."

Her breath is caught in her throat again.

Sighing, he takes a couple of steps forward, bracing himself for the conversation he knows is coming, and doesn't want to have.

"About a foot in front of you, and to your right," Joan informs him.

He feels for the chair, and sits – can feel her eyes on him as they sit quietly before she speaks–

"How are you, Auggie?"

She doesn't say, "how are you doing with everything?" or "how are you holding up?" and he's not exactly sure if that's better or worse, but the meaning behind the words are clearly implied in the thick space between them.

"I'm not the one that just had a baby," he quips, managing a smile. "Not to mention right after an attempt on your life–– Motherhood's made you bad-ass."

"Oh, Auggie, you of all people should know – I've always been bad-ass."

He definitely does – this woman who's been his champion for all these years, is one of the strongest and most compassionate people he's ever had the privilege of knowing.

And after the way she handled everything these past few months since Arthur's resignation, with so much dignity and poise, no way she would be mistaken for anything but.

"No question," he assures her, lips curving.

"We are truly relieved – and happy, to have you back with us, Annie."

Pouring the milk into the small styrofoam cup she angles her head back towards him slightly, beams at the warmth and sincerity in his voice.

"Thank you."

"I'm the one that needs to be thanking you," he answers."For everything you've done for my family."

She nods, inhaling sharply at that, her eyes meeting the pale tiles of the floor. "I just wish I could have done more."

"Oh, Annie–" He steps next to her, as she spins around to face him. She can barely meet his eyes.

"You did everything you could for Teo. And more than I should have asked of you; Nothing – nothing that happened is your fault."

So she keeps hearing.

(It doesn't make it okay.)

"Annie, thanks to you – my wife and son are safe in that room right now, and he won't have to grow up without his father the way Teo did."

"I –uh, I'm just really glad for the two of you," she tells him, honestly. "After everything, you two deserve to be happy."

"So do you, Annie," he counters. "Remember that."

"It's okay not to be alright," she finally says, after a moment of silence. "What you went through–"

"We've all be through our fair share, Joan," he sighs.

"Auggie – you had to bury her. Mourn her. Grieve with her family – I cannot possibly imagine what that must have been like." Pausing, she takes a deliberate slow breath. "Especially while trying to accept the truth about Helen," she finishes, quietly. "And now–"

"That's why, I'm a little bit surprised actually," he admits, cutting her off.

"At what?"

"At the fact that you're not angry at me for keeping the truth from you," he answers. "Especially after my...strong reaction when I found out about Helen."

She lets out a short laugh at that. "Not your finest moment –but you were angry, understandably. Arthur doesn't hold that against you. And neither do I. Nor do I fault you for keeping me in the dark about Annie, Auggie."

"I appreciate that," he breathes.

"I realize it wasn't a matter of trust," she continues, as he hears her adjusting her position on the bed in response to tiny cry from Mackenzie. "You were doing everything possible to protect the woman that you love."

Her hand pats his knee gently. "I would expect nothing less from the man that you are."

"I left Langley," she tells him as they start walking back, coffees in hand, and saying the words out loud again, should make her feel...freer somehow?

Instead she still feels lost.

"Word still travels fast within those walls," he returns with a smile. He turns his head to her. "And I speak for my wife and I when I say that as long as at least one of us is in the building – in whatever capacity– there will always be a place for you there."

She exhales, offering him a nod as they round the corner. "Thanks, Arthur."

"And our girl?" Joan asks him–– he doesn't miss the inflection of concern in her words, laced with pride and affection there as well. "How is she doing with all this?"

"She's strong," he answers, simply. She's..."

"Annie," Joan finishes with him.

He smiles, albeit tiredly. "Exactly."

"Not to mention – that she has you."

His chest feels heavy, a rebuttal on the tip of his tongue – he's not sure where they stand, if they'll ever get back to where they once were or, if Annie even wants to.

"Auggie," she says warmly, "the pairings we talked about – going the distance?"

He'd be lying if he said he were surprised she knew exactly where his thoughts were.

"I'm still betting on the two of you."

"I bet you're glad to be back on the good stuff," Auggie jokes, as Annie slides his own coffee into his hands.

"Thanks," he murmurs up to her.

She nods. "Mhmm."

"Oh, you have no idea," Joan answers him.

Her eyes land on Arthur, who's now holding the baby, hopelessly grinning at the bundle in his arms, and then back to Joan, who's helpless to look away as well.

"We should get going," she finally speaks up. "Let you guys get your rest before you head home."

"She's right. You're gonna need it," Auggie adds, smirking as he stands to join her.

Arthur beams, barely looks up as he answers, "Don't we know it."

Joan extending her hand out to take hers briefly. "If you change your mind––"

"Thank you, Joan." She gives the woman's hand a squeeze. "For...everything these past few years."

"Likewise, Annie."

"Congratulations again, you two," Auggie says, lightly wrapping his hand around her arm to lead.

She feels a little bit lighter somehow as she and Auggie reach the door, and it dawns on her, as she looks to him –– that this is it.

This is everything she'd been fighting to protect.

There's a piece of herself that she died in the process, she knows, but these people here, that little baby, all their futures, that is what she went to hell protecting.

Arthur's words from earlier sink in, as she leaves them with one last wave; despite the cost – she'd succeeded.

They'd succeeded.

"Take care of yourselves," Joan calls out, causing her to turn head back quickly.

"And each other."

He's about to make a joke – or attempt to anyway. Maybe about the Campbells making them godparents, or asking to them babysit.

The words never come.

Instead they stand, not saying a word, facing the door of the room still, as he hears Annie release a long breath.

"It's kind of ironic," she says and she's facing the blinds, which he assumes is at least partly open, watching the newly expanded family.

"What is?"

"That I didn't want to end up like them."

"Yeah," he muses in return, a sort of humorless laugh in his voice. "I suppose it is."

He'd asked her before where they went from here, and she doesn't truly know, maybe there isn't anywhere left to go.

But God, she wants to try.

It's the only thing she's still sure of –– the fact that's he's remained, even after they lost each other, that one ever-fixed spot she can count on when everything else is blurred.

And it kills her that she doesn't think she's ever told him that out loud.

He looks down for a beat, and tries to shift gears.

"Are you considering it?" he asks. "Changing your mind about going back, I mean."

She shakes her head and finally faces him. "I don't think that's what I want right now."

"What do you want then, Annie?"

"You," she answers, the sheer forcefulness of the words filled with months of longing and missing him with an ache that hasn't since gone away.

She lifts her hands to cup face. "I just want you."

And before she has a chance to think any of it through, her lips are on his, searching to see if this is still where she fits, murmuring apologies into his mouth and breathing into him everything she has left to say.

He's stiff at first, confused–surprised, but then she feels the moment he let's go, deepening the kiss and wrapping his arms around her, the fabric of her blouse between his fingers.

It's the first time in months she's felt whole.

Joan smiles down at their boy before she looks to her husband, who glances towards the door before addressing her.

"Think they'll make it?"

Humming an affirmative, she meets his warm eyes.

"Isn't that what all the great love stories are about?" she questions, reaching to entwine their fingers. "Beating the odds?"

He leans down to kiss her.

"Most assuredly," he whispers.

Love, we need it now, let's hope for some,
So, we're bleeding out,

I belong with you, you belong with me, (you're my sweetheart.) ❤