Disclaimer: I own nothing, everything belongs to their rightful owners.

AN: Angst I guess

After All

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"How come none of this gets to you?"

"What do you mean?" Emily stops, turns around to face JJ again.

"You come from a desk job," JJ wonders. "Now suddenly you're in the field surrounded by mutilated bodies and you don't even flinch."

JJ's watching her with a growing intensity and Emily isn't sure what to answer. A part of her is ready to spill all her secrets, another part tries to hold back.

This isn't the right time or the right place for a confession like this. Maybe it never will be.

"She's right," Hotch interjects coming out into the hallway from the living room. "You never blinked."

Emily looks up at him and for a second wonders if he already knows. Maybe. Maybe not.

She could tell them the truth. Could tell them that she 's never done a desk job. Could tell them that she's seen and done much worse. She could, but she doesn't.

She takes a deep breath instead, looks at the floor and then back up. Meets Hotch's eyes. Meets JJ's.

"I guess," she says with a light shrug. "Maybe I compartmentalize better than most people."

She almost believes her own lie.

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"You don't choose who you fall in love with."

The words fall from her lips so easily. Like she actually means them.

Emily watches the broken woman in front of her, seeing Lauren Reynolds instead.

She didn't choose to fall in love with Ian either, did she? And she wonders if she would go back in time if she could. Would she fall for him all over again?

The answer is yes.

And it scares the hell out of her.

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"I think it's a good idea, though."

Emily blinks. "What is?" she asks JJ and looks at her quizzically. Not sure what the woman on the other side of the desk is referring to.

"You...kids...I can see it," the blonde answers with a heartwarming smile.

Emily feels like crying.

"Yeah?" She manages a smile, before she turns away from her friend and looks out of the small window and into the sky.

She thinks about her fifteen year old self, back in a doctor's office in Rome. She thinks about Carrie. And she thinks about a five year old boy running around happily in a living room in a Tuscan villa.

She feels tears threatening to spill and she has to close her eyes to keep them from falling. Declan.

She should have become the mother he never had, should have raised him like her own. But instead she had to pretend to kill him in order to keep him alive.

"I looked pretty good for a dead kid, didn't I?" she hears him ask her. A smile beaming on his face. His blue eyes full of life and hope. It's been years since she last saw him and she misses him more than anything. But no matter how much it hurts she has to stay away to keep him safe.

And she wishes they could have gotten out of this together. The three of them, as a family. Wishes Ian had agreed to let her help him get out.

She falls asleep, dreaming of a long lost time. Dreaming about being Lauren Reynolds all over again.

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"What's bugging you?" Rossi asks her. His gaze fixed with hers.

Emily sighs. "It just makes me wonder," she starts. "Are we all capable of becoming something like that?"

It's not really a question. She already knows the answer to that and she knows it's written all over her face. Knows that Rossi knows as well.

"Life is a hell of a thing to happen to a person," he tells her and the pain in her chest suddenly makes it hard to breathe. It sounds like an apology for all the things she's done. For all the lies she ever told. For all the things she pretends to be.

Rossi keeps looking at her and Emily wonders if he's able to see what she hides. If he knows what this is really about. And she almost wishes it was; almost wishes it wasn't a secret anymore. She's so tired of hiding.

But he can't know. It's impossible and she can't tell him either and so she excuses herself, gets up to her feet and disappears in the direction of the small bathroom. Realizing just now how little this jet really is.

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"Me. It's me."

Emily doesn't think twice, before she reveals herself in order to spare Reid. And she doesn't regret it, not even for a second. She closes her eyes, swallows the pain and tries to muffle her cries, while Cyrus keeps beating her up in a spare room down the hall.

"I'm so sorry," Reid whispers the second she's lead back to the church. His hands in his pockets, his hazel eyes filled with unshed tears. Emily gives him a smile. Tells him that it's not even that bad. And it really isn't.

"It was my decision and I will do it again," she tells Reid later on their flight back. Her hands around his and she meets his eyes, wants him to know that she means it. Wants him to let go of the guilt he's obviously feeling.

And she wishes she could tell him that there's no reason to feel guilty about something that made her feel so alive.

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"Sadly I've actually dated people worse than Viper."

She regrets her words as soon as she spots Hotch's face. But it's too late, the words are out of her mouth and the way he looks at her makes clear what she just did.

She wants to say something to save the situation, but there's not really anything left. So she turns away instead. Hotch leaves and she closes her eyes. Hopes he won't bring it up again.

It's not even true what she just said. Ian hadn't been worse. No matter how much she wants to pretend he had.

He'd been many things to many people, but no matter what he'd done to the world, he'd never hurt her. Not even once. He'd trusted her with his life. He'd wanted to marry her. Wanted her to raise his son.

He'd loved her.

How does she even dare to call that a bad thing, if it had been the only good he ever did in his life?

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"Getting intimate with a killer is so different," she mumbles, her arms defensively crossed in front of her chest, while she looks back into the interrogation.

"It's what we do," Hotch tells her with a shrug and Emily just stares at the man behind the mirror.

Hotch doesn't know she'd done something similar before. Doesn't know she'd done worse to get the job done. Doesn't know anything about her life before she joined his team.

And it's not the first time she thinks about telling him. But what good would that do?

"Yeah, but there's no fixing how I feel right now, is there?" she asks him even though she already knows.

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When Sean calls, Emily knows it's about Ian. She meets him though, lets him confirm her biggest fears.

"Lauren Reynolds died in a car accident," Tsia reminds her, when Emily calls to warn her. "Jeremy and I made sure of it. Okay? I want to hear you say it, come on."

"Lauren Reynolds is dead," she repeats like she's told and bits her lip frantically, when she spots Reid from the corner of her eye.

"Sweetie, trust me," Tsia adds. "You died and we're all good." Emily closes her eyes and wonders if Tsia only tries to calm herself. After all she doesn't know the whole story either.

When she hangs up, Reid asks her about Lauren and Emily wishes she could tell him the truth. She meets his eyes, thinks about how much he means to her, before she looks away and tells him yet another lie.

Jeremy is the first one to die and Emily knows it's only a matter of time. Knows Ian's already closer than she thought when he sends her a single, velvet flower. Carefully packed and placed right in front of her apartment door.

"Why is he doing this?" Tsia asks over the phone, sitting just a few steps behind her. And Emily closes her eyes, wishes she wouldn't know why. But she does. Knows that this is his vendetta. Knows that whatever happens next the blame is on her.

"I will find him, darling," Clyde promises. "Trust me."

And Emily almost laughs. "I don't trust anyone, anymore."

I never have, is what she can't tell him after all.

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There he is. After all those years. Ian Doyle. Right across from her.

Her gun pointed at his crotch under the table. Her finger ready to pull the trigger. Ready to end his life. Because it has to end. Because it's the only way to end it and it doesn't matter if she doesn't make it out alive either.

Maybe it was always meant to end this way.

"Come near my team and I will end you," Emily almost spits in his face. But he just smiles.

His piercing blue eyes boring right into her core, setting her on fire against her will. Making her burn with want and need and things she shouldn't feel for him. Not anymore. And he smiles even more and she hates him and herself.

Of course she knows Ian has no intention of hurting her new team.

He came for revenge. Came for her. Everything else just a scam to break her.

And it works, doesn't it? Guilt already pulling her down.

She thinks about Declan. Thinks about the son she never had, thinks about the boy she loves more than her own life. She can't blame Ian for hating her. Can't blame him for wanting her dead.

She took his son and it doesn't matter that she didn't take him the way he thinks she did. After all she robbed him of the only thing that mattered to him.

And she could tell him the truth now. Could tell him that he's alive and well and safe. That she would never hurt the boy, that she would never risk his life. That she loved him like her own. That she'd been willing to do anything to save him.

But she keeps quiet. Watches Ian walk away. Closes her eyes and prepares herself to die.

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"We stay together. We can get him," Tsia tells her, sitting right across from her on the Metro.

"We already tried," Emily sighs. "Look how that ended up."

"Wait, wait." Clyde bends forward. Shakes his head. Meets her eyes. "When you went undercover, I promised no one would harm you."

And that worked so well, didn't it?

"I'm not undercover anymore", Emily says as she gets up from her seat. "DC isn't his comfort zone, it's mine. This ends here."

And she knows it has to. Knows she has to be the one who ends it once and for all, like she should have done it years ago.

She's in the car together with Morgan. Staring out of the window, her mind reeling and her heart racing. Her eyes darting to the side mirror over and over, just to make sure no one comes after them.

"You know, Emily, you really need to trust people."

"I trust people."

"No, you don't," Morgan shakes his head at her. "You don't because you can't. And I get it. Every time you tried to count on someone, they let you down, so you go it alone. You'll never admit that because you're just too damn stubborn. It doesn't really matter. But I'll tell you what does. That you can trust me, Emily. With anything."

He looks at her briefly, before he turns his gaze back to the road and Emily feels like she's going to break.

"No matter how awful you think it is," Morgan continues. "I promise you, you are not alone. I wish you would believe that."

Emily gives him a smile, fights back her emotions and tells him that she does, before she warns him to never profile her again.

Morgan laughs and Emily wonders what he would say if he knew the truth. After all he has no idea how awful it really is. Has no idea what she's done, no idea what she's doing right now. That everything he thinks he knows about her isn't true.

She looks back out of the window and says nothing. There isn't anything left to say.

"I know what the world can do to a girl who only sees beauty in it," Emily tells Garcia a few hours later. And she really knows. Knows because once she'd been this girl. And there are days she wishes she could be this girl all over again.

"Like you," Emily adds and it feels like goodbye. "Somehow, you always make me smile. And I don't think I've never thanked you for that."

It's Seaver coming in and telling her that Hotch wants to see her that breaks the moment between her and Garcia. And Emily is glad she can flee the room before her tears have the time to fall.

Staring at Tsia's dead body on the dirty hallway floor makes her realize that she's running out of time. She's next. It's a message left for her, a message from him challenging her to come after him. And she knows that he knows she will.

Throwing up over her shoes and pants like a Rookie in front of the crime scene is embarassing as hell , but even in that state she knows how to use it. She asks Morgan to drive by her apartment on the way back to the headquarters, so she can change her clothes.

He agress and Emily rushes into her apartment, changes her clothes in a hurry and packs what she needs to leave.

She knows this is the end, when she stands in the crowd right behind Morgan and listens to what Hotch has to say about Ian. She lets her gaze wander, looks from Seaver to Hotch and to Rossi. To Morgan, Reid and Garcia. Tries to memorize their faces, before she backs away slowly. She's not going to come out of this alive and maybe it's best.

She disappears into the darkness, leaves them behind without saying goodbye.

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Listening to Garcia's voicemail makes tears spring to her eyes.

"You're not alone," Emily hears her promise. "We're in that dark place with you. We're waving flashlights and calling your name. So if you can see us, come home. If you can't, then just stay alive. 'Cause we're coming."

And Emily wishes she had the time to cry, wishes she had the time to break down and mourn the loss of her friends, because she knows she's not going to see them again.

But her time is up and she shoves her phone away, grabs the gun and is out of her car in seconds.

She's working quickly, professionally. Just like she always has. Attacking the second car instead of the first one because Ian told her once he's always in the second.

"I only want Doyle," she tells his men. "Where is Doyle?"

"Right here, love," a voice comes from somewhere behind her. "Right here."

A bullet to her chest knocks the air out of her lungs, a second sends her down to the ground. And she's glad she chose to wear a vest.

The last thing she sees is Ian bending down beside her. A familiar smile on his face, his blue eyes finding hers.

"Hello, love," she hears him whisper, before darkness takes her away.

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Emily's not surprised to find herself strapped to a chair in a dark building. Isn't surprised about the way Ian stares at her. Isn't surprised when he tells her he's going to mark her as his.

She tries her best not to scream, not to give in to the pain when he starts to burn her skin. But it's no use and in the end, she screams in agony, until her throat is raw and her body limp.

"Why are you doing this? Why do you keep me alive?" she asks him, as she watches him close the buttons of her blouse. His fingers working just a little too gently. A faint reminder of the man she fell in love with.

She's not sure why she offers him being Lauren again, maybe because a part of her really wants to. Maybe because her brain stopped working while he was burning a four leave clover to her flesh. Maybe because she knows she has to find a way to take him out once and for all and she can't do that if she dies first.

She wants to cry and scream when he puts the computer in front of her and panic settles in almost instantly.

"You said this was between you and me, Ian!" she cries, tears blinding her vision. Rossi and Seaver blurring right before her eyes. Just one bullet away from dying.

And she can't stop thinking that it should never have come to this, that it should never have gone that far but yet here they are. Her team on the way to save her no matter if she wants them to or if she doesn't.

And she's afraid they're going to get hurt, afraid they're going to get themselves killed when they have nothing to do with this.

They're innocent.

She isn't.

"Shoot Fahey." Her decision is made quickly. "If you shoot him, my team has nothing." The words come out before she can stop herself and she hears Ian laugh and knows that this is just what he had been waiting for.

"Hello, Lauren." He tells her. Grabs her shoulder even harder than he did before. "It's good to see you again."

And just like that, she knows she got him. Knows there's a chance she's going to win this after all.

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"Game is over, love," he tells her with his gun softly pressed against her temple. "Time for your last confession."

Her eyes are filled with unshed tears, her breathing shallow. She knows she has to do something to get the upper hand. Knows she has to think fast. Knows she has to try to stop this tonight.

"Take me to where he died," she whispers. "I want to see it."

He stills. And she closes her eyes. Waits.

He puts the gun down just a moment later, before he starts to untie her and Emily tells herself to breathe.

He shoves her forward, further into the dark and Emily keeps listening to him, while she lets her gaze wander and tries to think of a way to get out of the handcuffs. Knows there's not much time left, when she realizes they're already there.

"That corner, that's where he died," Ian tells her, before he grabs her even rougher. "And that's where I'm going to kill you." He pushes her forward against the wall. Pain rushing through her body. She falls to the floor, tries to catch her breath.

"There's something you don't know about those photos." She looks up at him, just to meet the barrel of his gun pointed straight against her head.

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"What else did you do!" Ian huffs at her, while her grabs her by her blouse and presses her harder against the wall.

"I put him into the profile after those pictures were taken," Emily tells him. Trying to brace herself for what she's going to do.

"You can't know when those pictures were taken," Ian yells at her and Emily sees the realization growing in his clear blue eyes.

"Yes, I do," she whispers. Meeting his eyes. "I'm the one holding the gun."

The scream that follows her words is heart wrenching and Emily hates herself for doing it, hates herself for being so cruel and heartless, but she knows she has to. Knows she has to break him, knows she has to buy herself some time and she tries to remember every gruesome thing he's ever done, every person he's ever hurt, every person he's ever tortured to death.

He pushes her forward against a shelf, before he grabs her again and shoves her down to the floor.

"You want to hear his last words to me?" Emily asks him and she has to bite back a scream when he kicks her. She's seeing stars.

"He said," she starts, trying to get up on her forearms. "I looked pretty good for a dead kid, didn't I?" She struggles to look up at Ian. To meet his eyes. To see him shatter. "And then he got on the plane and I never saw him again."

"He's alive?" Ian yells, before he hits her again and again. Blindly lashing out at her and Emily has to fight the urge to vomit.

"Just because I held a gun to him, doesn't mean I shot him," she tells him when he lets go of her. "I only had to make you and the North Koreans believe he was dead."

The look on Ian's face is priceless. If she weren't on the verge of being killed by his bare hands she would laugh at him.

He hits her once, twice. Grabs her hard, pulls her up to her feet and pushes her against the wall again and again.

"Where is he?" he yells at her. Blinded by hate and disgust. "Tell me where he is!"

There's a part of her that wants to. A part of her that wants to give him his son back, the blonde boy she misses herself so much that it hurts. A part of her that wants to go back in time and live a life she wasn't supposed to live.

But she can't.

The boy deserves better. Deserves a real life and not just the obligation to become a warrior like his father. And she can't love a terrorist, a murderer, a serial killer. Not even when a part of her knows that she made him.

He's distracted long enough for her to get the upper hand and suddenly she has him in a death grip, blood dripping from her face onto his jacket.

"I beat you Ian," she whispers. Fights with all the strength she has left. Fights for Declan and for herself. Against her feelings and for the last bit of dignity she has left. "Before you even got out of North Korea. I beat you because I gave Declan his life back."

She sees the fury displayed in his eyes, knows she makes him angrier with every word she says and it makes her feel strong. Unbreakable.

"I'll find him," he tells her. His eyes full of disdain.

"No. You won't." And she promises herself that he won't. That he never will.

The lights go out without warning and Emily is caught off guard. She is pushed back to the floor then Ian hits her again. She fights back, grabs a wooden pole and hits him across his face.

She's not sure what happens next, but before she knows what's going on Ian has stabbed her. Emily gasps. Stares at the blood that spills from her abdomen, the piece of wood still inside her flesh. Pain floats through her body, a burning sensation before everything goes numb.

She falls down to the floor, black dots dancing in front of her eyes. And she knows she's going to die.

"Where is he," Ian asks her. His voice filled with panic. "Where's Declan, Emily? Tell me!" He grabs her hand frantically. Pleading. And Emily remembers the last time he took her hand. The last time they where together, before everything went straight to hell."Tell me, Emily! Tell me where he is."

He's begging now. Maybe for the first time in his whole life asking a woman for a favor. She just wants to laugh.

"No," she tells him instead. Unable to keep her eyes open. "No."

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"It's going to be all right," Morgan tells her, while he sinks down on the floor beside her and grabs her hands.

Emily fights hard to open her eyes, blood soaking the floor beneath her. Her whole body trembling. She's tired and cold and all she wants to do is let go. But Morgan keeps talking to her.

"Stay with me, baby," he begs her. Grabs her hand so hard she's sure he'll leave bruises. "Come on, stay with me!"

But she doesn't want to. She can't.

"Let me go," she whispers. Tears blurring her vision, her voice a whisper.

"No, no I'm not letting you go," Morgan tells her, screaming for help in the direction of the hallway. "Listen to me, Emily. I know why you did all of this, I know what you did for Declan."

She tries to open her eyes, tries to look at him, but all she sees are black dots dancing through the room. She wants to tell him that he's wrong, that he doesn't know anything and if he did, he wouldn't be there. Wouldn't hold her hand and tell her to fight for her life.

"I'm so proud of you," she hears him whisper. "Do you understand that I'm proud of you? Because you're my friend and you're my partner."

She blinks, but her eyes keep falling shut. She's so tired of fighting. So tired of lying.

"No, Emily, come on, stay with me! If you can hear me please just squeeze me hand," Morgan begs her and she does. "Yes, yes there you go, just keep squeezing," she hears him whisper over and over again.

And she's drifting away, falling and stumbling through the dark. And it's cold, so cold and she can't move and it's dark, so dark she can't see and Emily wonders, wonders if this is hell.

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She has no idea how much time has passed when she wakes up in a dark hospital room. Knows something must be horribly wrong when she spots JJ sitting at her side. A sad look on her face.

JJ takes her hand. Tells her that Ian is on the run, that they had to pretend she died to keep her safe. That no one knows. No one but Hotch and her. That there had been a funeral. Her funeral.

That Emily Prentiss never made it off the table.

Emily is silent for a long time before she starts to laugh. Pain rushing through her broken body, setting off the alarm on her heart monitor.

JJ starts yelling for help. Grabs her hand. And Emily wonders if this pain will ever end.

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She keeps her distance. Hides in the shadows, does what she does best. What she learned all her life.

Watches over Declan from afar, tries to hunt down Ian on her own. Plays online games and tells herself it's not JJ she's playing those games with. Breaking every damn rule she ever knew about witness protection.

She mourns her friends, her family. Mourns her own sad life for months, until she has to come back to save Declan's life all over again.

Her team stares at her like she's a ghost. They buried her. They carried her casket. And now she stands in the doorway like nothing ever happened.

But it did, didn't it?

Ian doesn't even look surprised when she meets him in the interrogation room and she wonders if he already knew. If a part of him knew that her death had been just another scam. Just another cover up for her pathetic life.

Emily Prentiss.

Lauren Reynolds.

Both dead and gone. And yet so alive.

He just looks up at her. His blue eyes finding her dark ones. "Of course," is all he says.

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A few hours later, she's kneeling on the cold ground. Declan pressed against her chest.

This is it, this is the end and there is no turning back. For neither of them. She never thought it would end on a runway.

Ian's blue eyes find hers and time seems to stand still, for one last time. One last moment. And she offers him all she has left, her last hidden secret now visibly displayed in her eyes. Only for him to see. Only for him to understand.

There's a faint smile on his face, before his eyes find Declan's again.

"I remember you," the boy tells him, his hand holding on to his father's and Emily feels her heart shatter into a thousand pieces. For the son in her arms, for the father out of reach. For a life she's never going to live.

"Sorry, son," Ian whispers and Emily watches as the light leaves his eyes. Her secret dying along with him.

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She ends up alone at his funeral two days later. Crying for the first time in over 25 years, tears falling down her pale cheeks. She's glad it's raining. Glad no one will see her cry for Ian Doyle.

She stands beside his grave in the pouring rain and tells herself that it's over. That the truth is buried with him six feet under. That she's free of the demons of her past. That she can start a new life.

But deep down Emily knows she won't. Knows she can't.

Tom and Declan have already left the country. Tom asked her to come with them and she thought about it. Thought about going with them, to become the mother for Declan she always wanted to be. But she knows it's too late and Declan deserves better than her. So she gave the boy a hug, promised to visit and watched him walk out of her life all over again.

She lied to her team, told them she had to go to Ian's funeral for Declan. But the reason she came has nothing to do with the boy who's not even in the county anymore. She came for herself, came to prove herself that this means nothing to her.

And just realized that she failed miserably.

She keeps crying, sobbing like a little girl. Holding on to that ring she got herself back from evidence and memories of a life she never should have known about.

.

Her team takes her back. Forgives her. Even though Emily has no idea why. And she has no idea why she stays with them either.

Maybe because she doesn't know what to do with her life, maybe because the BAU is the closest to family she's ever going to be. Maybe just to torture herself for the rest of her miserable existence.

She lies to the psychatrist Hotch makes her see, lies to her team. Keeps hiding the truth behind her flawless face and a smile that never reaches her eyes.

People don't change, Emily already knows. She can't either. Lying is what she does best. Taking over the role of others, always hiding herself. Always hiding the truth.

"You have no idea what it is like when the monster of your nightmares comes back for you," Regina Lampert tells her in the interrogation room and Emily flinches.

The woman, of course, notices. Looks at her, curious.

"Something happened to you," she says. And Emily wonders how a stranger is able to look right through her.

"What did you do to him?" Regina asks her. "Did you arrest him like a good FBI Agent? Or did you kill him?" She bends over the table, her voice filled with disgust.

Emily looks away. Wishes she could be somewhere else. "I didn't pull the trigger," she answers. Closes her eyes. Braces herself for whatever comes next.

Regina laughs. Shakes her head. "Still," she says. "Your monster's dead. I have to live with mine."

Those words haunt her for the rest of the day and Emily can't help but wish she'd died too. Wishes Ian had taken her with him to the ground.

She's the first on the jet and that's where Hotch finds her. When she tells him that she's having a bad day, tears blur her vision.

He looks like he wants to say something, but sits down across from her instead. His eyes full of worry and sorrow.

It's just then Emily realizes that loneliness never hurt before.

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"When I first came here it felt like home, but now it's just an uphill battle."

Emily's not talking about the house. She's not even thinking about it. She already knows she won't buy it, already knows she's going to leave.

She can't pretend that nothing happened. Because something did. His mark still hidden under her clothes, still claiming her as his. And she is. And she always will be

She thought she would be able to bury the truth with him six feet under, but it's still haunting her. Still branded not just into her skin but in her heart as well and it doesn't matter what he did or how much she hates him, there's still a part of her that'll always feel something else. The Gimmel ring she put back in her safe a silent reminder of a promise she'll never forget.

The second Clyde calls and asks her to take over the Interpol office in London, she knows she will. Knows this is what she'd been waiting for.

A reason to run. An opportunity to leave.

.

From time to time she calls them. Listens, laughs and hangs up as soon as they start to ask questions about her life. Because what's there to tell?

Morgan and Garcia come by to visit and when they leave, Emily realizes how hard it has become to hide from them.

At work she's determined to keep her distance, doesn't go out with her colleagues, doesn't share her private life and isn't interested in hearing something private from anyone else.

It's not difficult since she's the one running the office and no one dares question her. She tries to ignore the fact that she's just like her own heartless mother now and suddenly understands Clyde so much better.

Sometimes when she's alone in her apartment at night, she stares at the city from above and picks up her gun. Enjoys the feeling of the cold metal against her temple.

Closes her eyes and thinks about ending her life. Thinks about her white living room carpet turning crimson. Thinks about that empty grave with her name on it.

It's Ian who keeps her from pulling the trigger every single time.

His cold hands softly placed over hers. His voice echoing in her ears, his lips on her skin. Her deepest burden coming back to life, to tell her what she told him right before the light left his eyes.

"And I still love you, after all."

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Disclaimer: I own nothing, Everything belongs to their rightful owners.

AN: Thank you to everyone who takes the time to read and/or review my stories, that really means the world to me! And of course a big thank you goes to my wonderful beta reader clairebare!