Alex arrived on horseback just in time to hear the shots.

Emily's escape hadn't gone unnoticed. And, of course, Alex knew exactly what was going through her mind as the taillights had faded into the darkness of the night, enabling Alex to follow her, travelling much faster across the prairies than Emily could keeping to the roads.

"Oh, my God!" she breathed, immediately fearing for the worst, especially with the flickering flames quickly consuming the porch.

She and John both climbed down from the horse, neither seeming to quite know how they were going to help, but both determined to do so nonetheless.

Maggie came sprinting towards them, out of breath with exertion and fear. She was clutching Finley to her chest with a vice-like grip that Alex wasn't sure even the jaws of life could break. "Maggie!" she called, catching sight of the girl. "Maggie! Finley! Are you alright? Where's Emily?"

"She told me to run. To take the car," Maggie explained as best she could as she caught her breath. She obviously had a lot of question, but now was hardly the time or the place to address any of them.

Besides, that was all Alex needed to hear before she was running towards the burning house, in spite of John calling her name as she ran. She knew it was stupid – completely counter-intuitive – to run towards the danger, but Emily was still inside and if there was one thing she was willing to be completely stupid over, it was her wife.

She ran into the house, pausing just long enough to grab the rifle off the floor before climbing the steps, glancing from Ian's lifeless body to Emily slumped against the wall, bleeding. "Emily!" She dropped the rifle, moved to help Emily sit more upright. She didn't miss the red stain blossoming against the blue denim of her jacket, but getting Emily out of the quickly growing inferno had to take priority to the wound.

"Finley? Where's Finley?" Emily asked. Her gaze was bleary from the blood loss, but she was doing her best to maintain consciousness.

"He's safe, Em," Alex murmured, tone gentle and reassuring. "With Maggie and John. They're waiting for us." She attempted a smile that she hoped held more confidence than she truly felt just then.

Emily glanced about with a weak groan. "Moira... Where is she?"

"I don't know." She glanced about as well, shook her head. "I don't know. We have to go." Without waiting for a protest, she struggled to help Emily to her feet, doing her best to support her weight as they limped towards the stairs.

"Just go..." Emily insisted, weakly attempting to push her away. "Get out."

Alex shook her head resolutely. "Not without you. Come on. You can lean on me."

Together they made their way, slowly and painfully, down the stairs. The ground floor was quickly being devoured by the flames and their time was quickly running out to escape unscathed, if at all...

"Alex! Emily!" John shouted when he caught sight of the two women. He accepted Emily's weight when they reached the bottom step.

Moira appeared at the top of the stairs, pointing her pistol. The look in her eyes made it clear she was ready to kill and it didn't particularly matter who. Alex was the closest to her and, of the two women, she clearly posed the bigger threat, being unencumbered by injury.

"Alex!" Emily shouted, pushing away from John and stumbling across the floor to shove Alex out of the way. This time, the bullet she took hit her square in the chest.

"Emily!" Alex screamed as she fell. She dropped to her knees and crawled to her wife, finding the bloom of red on her chest and pressing her hands firmly to it.

Moira pointed the pistol again, howling with rage. "Why? Why!?" She cocked the gun and took aim at Alex for a second time. Moira knew she wasn't getting out of this alive, so why should anyone else?

Before she could shoot, though, Alex grabbed the shotgun off the floor and didn't hesitate even a moment before she blasted her. Moira fell to the floor and Alex didn't even spare her a backward glance.

"Look at me," she said to Emily, focused solely on her. "Look at me. Please, look at me," she begged. "I'm right here." She grabbed Emily's hand tightly, hoping against hope she might squeeze it back, give any sign at all that she was still holding on. Alex was sobbing, calling Emily's name over and over as she silently begged a God she didn't believe in not to take Emily, not now, not yet.

John's hand landed on Alex's shoulder, shaking her frantically. "Alex, we have to go! We have to go now!" The flames were encroaching ever closer and they were quickly running out of time to escape with their lives.

"No!" Alex shouted, pushing him away. She turned back to Emily who was quickly losing consciousness. She knew this was it. Emily wasn't going to make it.

She remembered the feel of her cheek pressed against Strawberry's soft, warm skin. She remembered whispering in the horse's ear. She remembered Emily's hand gentle and comforting on her shoulder as she pressed a kiss to the horse's muzzle for the very last time.

She leaned in to whisper in her wife's ear. She reminded her of their very first date, riding horseback side by side to the creek where they'd talked until the moon had come out, hanging heavy and full in the sky as they kissed. She reminded her of the first time they'd made love, Emily's hands on her lighting her aflame in a way she could practically still feel licking her skin. She reminded her of the very first time they'd held Ethan and he'd stared up at Emily with wide inquisitive eyes, already seeming to know her and love her.

She needed to send her on her way with happy memories.