I really hope you guys like this! Those of you who have read my other stories probably realize that they all end pretty similarly. I'm trying to keep the resolutions as unique as possible, so I tried something kind of new. Enjoy!

OooOooO

JULIET

I'm going to backtrack just a tad—back before Lassiter got the call from Henry and before walked in on Shawn awake.

I was in the body of the hospital, getting myself a cup of that stereotypically terrible coffee, when an unexpected thought occurred to me. What on Earth was I going to say to Shawn when he woke up? Up until a few hours previously I had been working under the assumption that he was dead. Of course I was much happier the way things had turned out, but…I've never been the best with words. That's Shawn's area.

I needed to find a way to tell him just how much I care about him and how glad I was that he was okay. But at the same time I didn't want to be overbearing. I wasn't exactly ready to profess my love for him or anything like that. I didn't want to be 'that girl'. You know, the one who is all melodramatic and emotional and likes to skip the first four stages of a relationship.

I was still wondering exactly what I should say when I walked into Shawn's room to see him wide awake, sitting partially up in bed and talking to Gus.

"Shawn?" The name slipped out before I could stop it.

"Jules." He replied, a little shakily.

Gus was out of his chair and headed to the door in a heartbeat. "Yeah," He cleared his throat, "I'm gonna go to the place with the thing…" He muttered awkwardly, going out into the hall and closing the door behind him.

I just stood there, staring at Shawn in surprise. It was surreal, really, seeing him alive and kicking. It was like he was back from the dead or something.

"Hey, Jules."

I must've been standing and staring for a bit longer than social standards would deem appropriate, seeing as Shawn was staring straight back at me with a concerned look on his face.

With this in mind I resolved to say something…anything. Anything at all…

Seriously, nothing would come out of my mouth. My mind was completely blank. What follows can absolutely be described as the most embarrassing moment of my life. It was like every ounce of feminism in my entire body ganged up on me and took over.

I started crying.

And by crying I mean sobbing. Uncontrollably. I tried to stop, really I did, but it was like the shock and exhaustion and just everything was too much for me.

Shawn shifted awkwardly in his bed. He's never been good with crying.

"Um, Jules, are you okay?"

God, why did he have to be so nice to me? Asking me if I was okay? While he was the one laying in a hospital bed after almost dying? After I rejected him?

The whole situation was so messed up.

"I'm so sorry, Shawn." I choked out as I headed towards the door.

Don't judge me, okay? I knew I was no good to either of us while I was sobbing like a little girl. I just needed to take a walk, pull myself together, and figure out what needed to be said.

Shawn, however, would have none of that.

"Whoa, whoa, wait, Jules. Hold on a sec. Don't you think you've walked out on me enough for one year?"

It took Shawn a grand total of about three seconds to realize that that was not the right thing to say.

"Okay, look, I'm sorry. I didn't mean that. Just don't leave. Please?"

Something in Shawn's voice made me turn around. He wasn't one to beg—not seriously, at least—but here he was, begging me to stay. How could I say no to that? I dropped my hand from the door handle and turned around, sniffling and wiping at my eyes even though the tears continued to fall.

I looked at Shawn and saw how pale he looked. I saw how weak and helpless he was and, you guessed it, started crying even harder. Which, by the way, I didn't know was possible. I swear, that coffee must've had some sort of estrogen supplement in or something…

"Oh God, Jules, you know I'm not good with the whole crying thing!"

"I know! I'm s-sorry! I can-can't stop."

Shawn sighed a little and looked at me sadly.

"Come here, Jules." He said quietly, after a moment.

"Wh-What?" I choked out, more than a little confused.

"Come here." Shawn repeated, this time scooting himself over a bit on his bed and patting the sliver of space next to him.

I stared at him incredulously for a second. Was he being serious? Going beyond the whole, he should hate me thing, me lying in bed next to him couldn't be good for him in his physical condition.

"Oh, come on, Jules! You aren't going to hurt me!" I swear, sometimes he can read my mind.

Shawn put on his best puppy dog face. "Please?"

As if by their own free will, my feet began to carry me towards Shawn. I kept telling myself to stop, but my body just wasn't listening. By this point the sobbing had mercifully subsided, although tears continued to flow steadily down my face.

Let me just take a moment to explain something. I don't ever cry. Really, honestly, never. I mean, sure, I've cried a handful of times when things have gotten really rough, and I'm sure I cried plenty as a baby, but still, it's a rarity.

But there I was, in front of Shawn, crying like a toddler who dropped her lollipop. Let me once again impress upon you the sheer humiliation that I felt at this point.

"See? That wasn't so hard, now was it?" Shawn said soothingly as I pulled myself up onto the bed next to him.

Considering the fact that I had about six square inches of personal space, I had to curl right up against Shawn and throw my arm across his chest (carefully avoiding his wounds) to keep from falling off the bed. Not that I minded it that much…

We just lay there together for a few minutes. Even practically wrapped around Shawn as I was, I was still less than comfortable on the edge of the bed. And then, of course, I was doing a nice job of dampening the shoulder of Shawn's hospital gown where I was resting my face. On all counts, the whole situation should have been uncomfortable and awkward.

But somehow it wasn't. I really can't explain it, but for some reason everything seemed…right. I felt Shawn next to me, really felt him. He was alive. He was breathing—I could feel his chest move up and down and his heart beating. I had come so close to losing him.

I thought back to that phone call from Gus—the worst phone call I could ever receive. I thought back to the horror that I had felt in that moment and I gripped Shawn a little bit tighter.

Shawn chuckled lightly, an action that felt strange but pleasant to me in my position.

"Okay, Jules. What's going on?" He asked me quietly. "Talk to me."

"I thought you were dead." I told him honestly.

"Jules—" Shawn began sympathetically.

I realized that he just didn't understand. He had no idea just how bad things had seemed for a while.

"No, Shawn. You don't get it. I thought you were dead. I knew you were dead. And now you're here, and it's like you're back from the dead, which is amazing, but for a little while you were dead and I had to deal with that. How do you deal with that? I thought you were gone and the last thing you'd have known was me walking out on you—"

(For the record, that whole psychobabble was a lot less coherent due to the crying and the lightning-fast speed at which it was all said. I thought I'd save us all time and effort by decoding it for you.)

"Look, Jules, I didn't mean that—" Shawn interjected.

"Yes you did and you were right. I did walk out on you, and you know what? I don't even know why. I would never in a million years choose Declan over you—"

"Then why did you?"

In that one sentence Shawn managed to sound small and hurt and insecure. I think a little piece of me died inside.

"I really don't know why, Shawn."

"Nope. Sorry, Juliet, but that's not going to fly. I think I deserve a bit more of an explanation."

I shifted slightly, propping myself up on one elbow so that I could look Shawn in the eye. I wasn't crying anymore.

"I made a mistake, Shawn. I saw Declan and just…he's a constant. He's predictable, and you're…you're spontaneous. I love that about you, I just didn't know that that's what I wanted. I know that now." I tried my best to explain what I myself didn't understand.

For his part, Shawn did all he could to avoid making eye contact with me. I resigned myself and, with a sigh, returned to my former position.

"You must hate me." I whispered. I could feel the tears begin to well up again, but was determined to keep them back.

There was a moment of painful silence that lasted long enough for me to wonder if Shawn had fallen asleep.

"I could never hate you, Jules." Shawn finally said, almost inaudibly. "I love you too much."

In an instant my heart stopped and the floodgates opened. Yep, I started crying again. Seriously, I must have been setting records. This was a different kind of crying, though. A good kind.

If you out there reading this is a girl you'll understand. Maybe…

Shawn must've realized at some point that I was crying, because he kind of started freaking out.

"Oh God, I'm sorry, Jules. I shouldn't have—"

At this point I, fully aware of my lack of eloquence, propped myself back up and kissed Shawn. Yep. I kissed him.

When I pulled back Shawn finally looked me in the eye. He had his classic goofy grin stretched across his face. It only took me one look to know that everything was going to be okay.

OooOooO

SHAWN

So there you have it. A classic love story (with a bit more blood and sarcasm than you would generally expect) where everyone lives happily ever after (at least I hope we do. This really didn't happen all that long ago).

I'm really not sure what else there is to say. I sort of pushed off all of the mushy stuff over to Jules. What can I stay? I'm not good with that kind of stuff. In the category of emotions I fall somewhere between Lassie and a Carebear. Granted, that's a pretty big range, but in all fairness, I really have no idea where I fall. I haven't really tested the emotional waters, per se. I prefer to use Gus as my kayak to move from place to place.

…

Wow. That metaphor got completely out of hand. It both made no sense and sounded pretty awkward. I apologize for that.

Anyways, the point is that, had I tried to relate the part of the story that Jules just did, the whole thing would end up like that metaphor: nonsensical and awkward. I spared us all that experience. You're welcome.

I suppose you lovely plebeians (not really sure what that means. It's like, people, right? They both start with 'p' so that must be right) want to know what happens next. Well, like I said earlier, in between those little symbols that make the ribs of the fish (check it out! )))* Awesome, right?!) this all happened like, two months ago, so there's not much to tell.

Jules and I are still together. What a relief, right? I mean, how awkward would that be? 'Yeah, after all this drama and life or death stuff we went on a few dates, but it didn't work out'. I mean, this is a story about me, not Gus!

Okay, that was cold. Sorry about that.

Anyways, as you can probably tell, this story has lasted a bit longer than my ADHD can handle. Really, it's a miracle that I've held on this long.

I hope you guys enjoyed your semi-stalkerish glimpse into my admittedly awesome life. Stick around; there are more adventures to come.

OooOooO

I feel like this should go without saying, but I'm going to say it anyway. Y'all are the greatest ever. I really, honestly mean that. This story took me a pathetically long time to write, and you guys have been nothing but nice to me. I really hope y'all liked it even though it took like three years!

I know what the ending sounds like, but at this point I have no plans for a sequel. I'm going to finish "A Little Birdie Told Me" and then head into my karma killer story. Speaking of, I'd really appreciate it if you visited my profile and voted on which point of view you think it should be written in.

And for the final time, thank you all so so much. I hope you had half as much fun reading this as I had writing it. It would be awesome if you reviewed one last time!