Final A/n: Thank you to everyone that has been around reading this story. I hope this final chapter ties things up. I know it's not what a lot of you are going to want, but this is what I saw as the final bit. It leaves the future open for you to ponder yourselves. Thank you for staying with this for so long and please leave a review at the bottom so I know what you thought overall :) Enjoy.

Feel free to check out my other stories, for it is highly unlikely that there will be any sort of additions to this story now. 35 chapters seems like quite a bi. Check out my facebook page for updates, or add me so you know when something new has arrived :D

JDeppIsMyLovely spent month's beta-ing this for me, so thank you for helping me with it!

I've Been Alone, All Along

When you'd cry I'd

Wipe away all of your tears

When you'd scream I'd

Fight away all of your fears

I held your hand through all of these years

But you still have, all of me

"Don't mind them," he whispered, pulling her closer. They were outside, so there was nothing anyone could say about their affection. The teacher's for the most part left them alone these days anyway. After the news of the trial broke, everyone treated them differently. Snape was even nice to her. She thought he was in shock still; they were so sweet towards each other the last several days, when they had still been rough with each other before the holiday. How times had changed.

He leaned down and gently kissed her, a smile playing across her lips at this. He pulled back, resting his forehead against hers. The relationship was still new; still exciting. Hopefully that feeling would never end. Neither could recall a time when they had ever felt connected to a person as strongly as they did now.

Returning to school had been one of the strangest things either teen had ever done. People gawked openly at them as they walked, and reporters had followed them around until they got on the train that first day. Even now, they were trying to persuade the Headmistress to allow them to come in, and thus far had been shot down each time. They were both relieved. The rest of the world didn't need to know every detail of what led to the trial, of their "spontaneous and growing relationship" as people called it, or how they felt in the aftermath. It was no one else's business.

But that didn't stop the students from staring as they walked. Wherever they went together, people watched. It was odd really, to have so many eyes following you. She was used to the attention because of Harry, but this was different. People looked at Harry because he was a legend. People looked at them as though they had never before seen something more peculiar. Sometimes she found their expressions funny, for although the younger years paid them no mind, it was people who were their age that couldn't get over the spectacle. People who had been on opposing sides were always coming together these days, so was it really that strange to see the duo together was well? Given their history; probably. But people could be a little less obvious when they watched them.

"It's hard to not notice them when they are always watching," she breathed in return, looking up at him through blond fringe. It was frigid outside, but that's why they created heating charms. Besides, they had hoped to avoid people here without success. Their dorm was nice, but after so much time it got tiresome. They couldn't just hide away for the rest of school together; they had to face their peers and all the gawking looks. It was better to get used to people's reactions now within the walls of Hogwarts than outside in the real world where there were no barriers to hide behind.

He kissed her cheek. "Then don't give them anything to watch." That was easy for him to say, considering his back was to the crowd- the people trying to seem innocent, like they weren't watching. She hated their faces; some watched with interest, jealousy and resentment, while others always had looks of pure horror on their faces, like they couldn't look at either of them without imagining all the things the papers spoke of. It was quite irritating. It's not like any of them could understand.

"Let's just go back to the dorm," she muttered.

Six days, that was all the time that had passed since entering Azkaban for another round. It seemed like an eternity to Lestrange, who sat in his cell, his nails bleeding after his ill-fated attempt to claw his way out of the prison. But this time it didn't seem that he would find a way out of this hell.

He knew who to blame; he knew who to hate. Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy. They had gone after the truth, the answers, to ease their minds and set themselves at ease. They had wanted answers, and the pair had gotten them, even if they were not the kinds of answers anyone had expected. He would be a liar if he said he did not hate himself for overlooking obvious things. But that was going to change nothing now. He couldn't take anything back, he couldn't change the past. He could only suffer the consequences of his own actions now.

They had banished him to this hell, and soon his life would end when the Dementor's came for him. He was angry, he was livid, but he was helpless to do anything. The prison was now sealed; a newly remodeled fortress that no longer allowed for escapees, and this prisoner was facing his daunting fate each and every moment. The truly horrible thing was that he had not been given a date, so he could not prepare himself for the end of his life.

It was unfair, and he lashed out at the wall again, ignoring the pain as he tore another nail off, blood slowly leaking down his hand. He would never get revenge on them, or Lucius, or Narcissa. He was going to die, just like sweet Bella, and Martha and Andrew.

What a cruel world. Slouching against the wall, he screamed. He had no other means of releasing his anger, other than self-harm, and he had already done enough of that. At this point, all he could do was hope that someday, someone would get them back for all of this.

They were after all going to be the reason he had to die.

If I had the chance, they would pay for this. They would suffer all over again. But I don't think I will have the chance to get back at them. This place is playing with me- dragging out my death. It's only a matter of time before the walls collapse and the Dementors come for me. I can't get them from this place; I can't hurt her now that they had extracted the bloody magic from the scar! I have nothing to grasp onto!

He turned back, beating the wall with open palms. He couldn't just sit here and wait, he had to try to get out. This couldn't be the end of him! He had things he needed to finish!

Only the problem was he didn't see a way he could accomplish anymore of his goals. Not here; not now. He could only sit back and wait for death to come to him.

And that was almost more terrifying than death itself; the prospect of waiting, the prospect of getting to think about it for too long, could unravel the remaining shreds of his mind long before death took him from the world.

He feared this was how things would end; his mind would go long before his body, and that was truly horrifying. If only he could stop it somehow. But he was already clinically insane, and nothing would stop his mind from further deteriorating. It was only a matter of time.

Draco drummed his fingers on the desk in his room. It was strange to be back in that place after such an eventful holiday, but he liked it in a way. School had become interesting if nothing else. Hermione might hate the attention they got, but he thought it was amazing. All those people stared at them because they dared to cross boundaries and be a couple. It was not only that, but that was what he liked to focus on; the good things. He didn't want to ponder what they thought of them as individuals, as people now that everything had come into the light except their own confessions, for they refused to give the media that extra bit of information to spread around. He only liked the envious looks he received- the ones that questioned why she chose him- because it reminded him that she had chosen him. Out of everyone she had known for years, despite all of their history and the fact that he had imprisoned her in a slave deal of all things, she had chosen to be with him, and that was a miracle. He could almost be thankful for the horrifying experiences, if only because they turned his viewpoints around, and forced him to actually have a heart. It was definitely a new experience, one that he didn't exactly regret. He had to admit, this was the happiest he had been in a very long time, and it was all because of her.

But it came at a price. He was losing both of his parents; one for a lifetime and one for fifteen years. It was a hideous blow on his life, and he could only thank the Malfoy funds that he was rich, and would not need to worry about reorganizing anything dealing with the family business and finances until after graduation, when he would have the time. That was what his father's advisor would be for; balancing. This was a man Draco had rarely spoken to over the last eighteen years, but he knew the man was brilliant and would never dare steal anything from the family. It was with that fact alone that Draco trusted him.

He reached up, running a hand through his hair. He had sent Hermione to shower, complaining that she needed to relax. Term had been going on for an entire two days, and he knew the looks they were thrown weighed her down emotionally. This was the first time really that the entire story was broadcasted, and he knew it was hard for her. It was hard on them both really, but more so for her in a way. His parents had always been considered "evil" just for their standpoint in the war, and the new reports only confirmed those old suspicions. Her parents were muggles; they should've been considered innocents. And innocent they were the day their lives ended. Perhaps that was why people looked on at them the way they did; he was considered evil, she innocent. They did make quite a match, didn't they?

The blond glanced up, looking at the small statue she had given him as an unsuspected Christmas gift. It could come in handy if anymore rogue Death Eater's decided to come their way. If that day came, he would be ready, and he knew she would be too. After everything, neither would ever let something like this slip by them again; it came at too high of a cost.

All their problems were nearly over, and that was something he could be thankful for. How long had it been since he really relaxed? They returned on January fourth, and it had only been two days, but he felt enlightened. There were no heavy weights, no constant worries of death or of someone stealing her away in the night. Everything had played out, and he could only accept that now, no matter how it bothered him. His soul was enlightened but his mind remained haunted, constantly thinking about his parents- mostly his mother. He wasn't sure if she could withstand Azkaban.

He fingered the ring he had taken from his father's belongings, the one that now rested on his middle finger. It was the Malfoy ring, worn by the eldest Malfoy of the family, the one in control. Since his father would never leave that prison, it was now his. Looking down at the piece of jewelry on his finger, he couldn't say that this was a delight. If anything, it just reminded him of all the things he would have to put in order once school was out- and that was a lot.

Somehow through all of this, their friends had learned to accept everything. It surprised Draco how easily those Gryffindor's took her new relationship, although he expected it was from utter shock more than anything else. He was Draco Malfoy after all, who could at any moment "ruin" their sweet princess. He just had no intention to do so. And while the Gryffindor's were semi-welcoming, Pansy and Blaise had proven to be more rigid. It was hard for them to consider being kind, when they were still stuck in strict Slytherin beliefs, Pansy more than Blaise. He could only assume that they might come around, although he could never imagine any of them being close friends. The mutual kindness was only for his and Hermione's benefit he knew, and expected nothing more. At least they were all civil. They would both need it once school let out, and they had to brave the world once more.

The door to his bedroom opened, and he looked up to spot his Gryffindor coming in, her hair dripping still from her shower. She could spell it dry, although he doubted she wanted to. She seemed a bit withdrawn, and the moment she sank down beside him on the bed he could feel her shakes.

"What's wrong," he asked, tilting his head to the side as he pulled her tight to him. She had been acting strange lately, and he knew something still haunted her mind. She just needed to let go, to move on, and they could begin to rebuild their lives. But neither could do that so long as she clutched to those painful memories.

"It's all so wrong," she breathed, her breath tickling his neck. "Everything."

"What is?"

She pulled back a bit, meeting his eyes. "How everyone is treating us. How things played out. Just… everything."

Ah, he understood. He knew she had not slept well since coming back to school. The girl had a pure heart, and although it didn't affect her, he knew she had been feeling guilty about his parent's relocation. Reaching out, he stroked her face lovingly with a long finger. "It's not wrong Hermione, it's expected. Things played out the way they were meant to; it all came out in the end. You can't feel bad about that. Everything that we got to see play out for months has been blasted across the papers in one large blow, and that's a lot for the public to take in. Granted, we shouldn't really care what they think, but you have to accept that they won't look at us the same for a long time. Their perceptive have changed on us, like ours have on each other, and maybe ourselves as well." He wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "It will get better; you just have to blow everyone off. They will think what they want of us no matter what."

She glanced up at him, the silly tears having disappeared. "Shouldn't I be the one comforting you? Shouldn't I be the one helping you feel better after everything? I've been dealing with my parent's departure for months, but yours-"

"Mine just started," he cut in, rubbing her arm. "It might come as a surprise to you, but my family was never the ideal set of people. We were patchwork really; people that were not right for each other, thrown together through an arranged marriage. My parents never worked as a couple really, and it only seemed to get worse as I grew up." He shifted a bit, and it just reminded her again that this had to be a difficult topic for him. She smiled lightly at this, proud that at least he understood what had to be done; that he had to discuss things, even if he didn't like it. It would help in the long run, when he was forced to learn to heal after all of this. "I will miss the family setting, but I can't say that I'm losing everything. To lose everything, I would need to have had a lot to begin with. I had funds, not love."

Hermione watched him with that same slight smile as he spoke, but didn't interrupt. When he finished, she rested her head back against his chest. She didn't want to add anything; he already knew his life better than she ever would. That was the cold truth, and he said it without emotion. He was going to keep himself detached from the real pain as long as possible, and learn to cope the way many men attempted to; alone. Only he wasn't alone, he had her.

In the aftermath, it was strange to see how truly different their families had been, even though they both lost their parents in the end. She snuggled closer at that thought. She had been so lost when her parents were killed, when she was forced to start all over and pretend nothing was wrong even after she spent several days after her encounter with Rodolphus at St. Mungo's, trying to fight back her tears. She had never intended to tell anyone what had happened, and if she had never done that her situation would still be bad, or she might even be dead. Telling him her problems had probably saved her life in more ways than one in the end- which was funny to think about, when one considered how they had started the year out.

Now she would have to do the same for him.

Harry Potter sat in his room, Ginny Weasley at his side. They had manipulated the stairs, using a levitation spell and an invisibility cloak to hide her on the trip up- not that any of the seventh years would say anything to him, except maybe Ron, but he was currently somewhere downstairs in the common room lost in a conversation with Lavender Brown. Now they sat quietly, staring at the large window in the room he shared with four other boys, even though this was not the reason he cleared out his room for the next hour.

They had been going over the story Hermione gave them over and over. Ron for the most part, was pushing her away. They knew why, they understood; he had really liked her, but in the end she turned to their enemy for the bulk of her help, and eventually had fallen for him. It had once been a heavy blow to their friendship, but it was something none of them held over her head any longer. They couldn't, not with what they knew now. They could only wish that she had allowed them to help more. But Ron, ever the jealous type, wasn't as forgiving. At least he was speaking with Lavender now, for perhaps he could learn to love Hermione like a sister again instead of a possible girlfriend if he had Lavender to catch his affections.

At least now, the three of them could help her. Ron might be a bit hurt, but he was still there for her. They had all listened to her explanation when she came to the Burrow, and they were all by her side now. Dealing with Zabini and Parkinson were another deal, and although they could tolerate Malfoy to some extent, those two were harder. House rivalry ran deep, even after everything that happened, and they were still uncomfortable accepting those two. Malfoy was a huge step within itself, but the couple could be cold when it came to sitting in the same room with the Gryffindor's. Blaise Zabini was friendlier than his girlfriend, who looked horrified at associating with them at all. Ginny thought that was rather funny, considering the girl had gotten close with Hermione, who supposedly should be lower on her friend list than the three of them. But the two girls shared experiences that the Gryffindor's had never gone through, and that created a small bond between them that none of the other's would ever have. Perhaps that was what convinced Pansy to come and sit near them at all; the fact that she and Hermione had become so similar. Still, it was a growing process and it would take a long time for any of them to really be comfortable with the way things were.

They couldn't rightly ignore Draco either; not now that Hermione was beginning a relationship with him. They didn't exactly like it, they still were wary around him, but no one in England could deny that he had helped her; that he kept her safe. They had to put their faith into that alone, and they could only hope that he wouldn't turn around and hurt her. Harry and Ron feared this fact a lot more than Ginny did though. There was something in the duo's eyes when they looked at each other that only a girl noticed. Their eyes sparkled a bit, and she knew they felt something for each other. It almost made her smile; she had never seen Hermione look so happy with someone before. Now if only Ron would accept that- but Lavender could supply a stepping stone towards his acceptance, if things continued to go well between them.

"Should I talk to her again," Harry fretted, breaking their silence. He glanced at Ginny, and she just gave him a soft smile.

"You have tried to speak to her before Harry," Ginny replied with a smile, looking on at him. "She isn't ready. It's been months, but it's months that she hasn't really spoken about it. Malfoy may have been someone she dealt with and spoke about this with, but all the emotions aren't gone. You can't push her though, alright? You've had to deal with it a lot longer than she is, you've had years longer to tolerate this issue. She hasn't. You have to give her the time to adjust and learn to cope. I'm sure you can help her along the way though; you- and even Malfoy- understand better than a lot of us do. She'll speak, just give her time."

"How much time?"

Ginny shrugged, leaning up to kiss him. "I don't know Harry; that's up to Hermione."

"But-"

She gave him a look, cutting him off. "But nothing. You're concerned Harry, just like Ron and I are, but we can't make her speak. It goes a lot deeper than the usual deaths; her parents were murdered, just like yours, and that takes time to accept. Maybe it was different for you, because you were so much younger, but it's different."

He sighed, resting his head against the top of hers. "Then what do we do? Do we just keep wandering around with her, even when we know she is still hurting?"

"It's all we can do," the ginger breathed, staring out at the while world, the layer of snow covering everything they could see from the high outlook. "It's Hermione's life. She will speak when she is ready. All we can do is keep staying by her side and helping her, like we should've done from the beginning."

Harry nodded once, twisting his head around so he could lean down and kiss her. She was right after all. Things had already come to pass, and now they could only help piece Hermione's life back together, while she stood by and helped Draco Malfoy fix his own.

The days passed slowly. Hermione still felt like everyone was staring at her, and it was sickening. At least her talk with Draco the other day had helped her feel better; now she could hold her head high when she walked and not care. She didn't like it, but no one else had to know that. So long as she made them believe that they didn't affect her, their curiosity would eventually diminish and things could gravitate back to normality.

At least the questions had stopped. A fourth year had asked her in a joking manner about her parents the other day, and Ron had gone off on the child. Needless to say, no one bothered questioning her anymore. The papers didn't answer everything, but the two students had completely refused interviews, so it was all anyone was going to get. And after several days, the reporters had given up obtaining new information. The Ministry officials would give nothing up, nor would Draco and Hermione. Without interviews, the story diminished and dropped off the papers entirely. Both teens were extremely grateful.

She had just turned a corner on her way to lunch when an arm shot out, locking around her middle. She attempted to scream but a hand locked onto her mouth, silencing her as she was dragged into an empty classroom. The moment the door was shoved shut, she was released and spun around to stare at her attacker.

"Draco," she said, placing a hand on her chest as her rapid breathing quickly decreased. "What do you think you're doing!? I was about to hex you so many times-"

He placed a finger on her lips, gently silencing her. She didn't like it one bit, but let him quiet her. "Sorry," he breathed, leaning forwards to replace his finger with his lips. She accepted the kiss happily, even if inside her mind she was recoloring his perfect hair pink out of irritation. When he pulled away, his face was full of seriousness.

"What's wrong," she said, looking into his eyes. There was something hidden behind that mask.

"My mother sent me an owl this morning," he said, although the delight that should've been in his voice wasn't there. She frowned at that.

"Is that bad?" It seemed early, considering how recently the Mafloy's had been imprisoned, but she didn't know if that was good to mention or not.

He shook his head. "She had nothing bad to say to me. Azkaban is vile though; I don't think she will be able to send another for a while."

She nodded slowly. "I'm sorry," she said, reaching up to kiss him as an act of comfort, but he turned his head away. She sensed that maybe this wasn't all of it, and stepped back off of her toes to listen.

"She sent you a letter as well." Her grip slackened on him a bit, and he could see the surprise pooling in her eyes. That was not something she was prepared for.

He pulled her arms off of him, smiling lightly at the puzzled expression on her face. "I don't know what she said; just that it was addressed to you. It makes me wonder what she had to say to you."

"Me too," she breathed, eyes large. She shook her head, brown hair flying around her. "Why did you grab me? We share a dorm; you could've given it to me then."

He smirked, kissing her again as his had went to his pocket, searching for the letter. When he pulled back his expression was still the same. "I wanted to surprise you."

"Surprise me, or scare me?"

Draco chuckled. "Perhaps a little of both. The real danger is gone Hermione; you can't fear my uncle anymore."

She rolled her eyes. "Well I knew it wasn't him." She brushed blond fringe out of his eyes. "Well can I see this letter? I would like to know what it says."

"As would I. I left it in the dorm so that nothing happened to it, and I had already presumed that you wouldn't want to read it in this dirty classroom." He bent and kissed her. "Shall we go get it?"

All she could do was roll her eyes. "Of course!"

Hermione Granger~

Let me be very clear; I will not apologize for your loss, nor will I pity you. I can hardly pity anyone but myself at this time, but perhaps someday I will be able to see your side of the story as well as your hurt. However today I write to you for one single purpose; need.

I don't know you, and honestly I doubt I will ever want to know you. You my child are too much of a Mudblood; too much of a representation of the people I have been bread to hate. But, I am a mother above all else, even above being Lucius's wife, and I am not blind. Your stay at the Manor was brief at best, and from that short meeting I can say that I learned little about you. The few other occasions which you saw me for were under worse circumstances, and left an imprint of yourself on me that does little to reflect your personality. Let me be frank Miss Granger that by dating my son as you have so boldly dared to do, you are crushing the very foundation of the Malfoy line; purity. Lucius gave up our freedoms for that simple fact, and to see it all be torn to shreds by his obsession with you is sickening. The only problem is that it comes across as more than just an obsession, and that's even worse. Do you even realize how serious this is?

It's obvious that I can do little about any of this from my current position. If I resided in that home still I would have you removed from the premises, just like I attempted to at the beginning of the Winter holiday. You will be an obstacle to the Malfoy line Miss Granger, a problem; a problem that I have a difficult time removing.

But let me say this; something about your filthy blood and confident attitude has captured my son's attention for whatever reason. I do not understand his obsession nor his captivation with you only that it has surpassed anything I have seen him treasure in the past. Why you, why my son wants to throw away years of perfect breeding for you is beyond me.

I know what you are thinking, the two facts flipping over in your mind; why am I sending this, and why do I sound so much like my husband? The second answer is simple; it got me in here, and it is the only thing I know to follow. It is my belief that this entire idea of a relationship is a mistake. After all, that belief got me locked away.

I want you to really think about things Miss Granger as you embark down this complicated path with my son. We are Malfoy's; we hold ourselves high. And even if the two of you only ever date, you will be shunned in our group. Purebloods rarely mingle with anyone of lesser blood, and just because my sweet Draco might be willing to stand up for you around your peers doesn't mean he can always do so. You went through a trial to have an easy life? To get away from all the stress that has been in your life since your parents died? By dating my son you will be doing the opposite.

As I have said, I really have no way of controlling what the two of you do, only advising. So take my advice; if you are going to tread dangerous water, have a second plan in case your first proves fatal. I will not wish you luck, but I am curious to see if the two of you remain with so many obstacles against you. It's not as though I have to know until I am free, for no one has to alert me of anything, least of all the two of you. But you can count on my letter to my son being far kinder than yours. Now I can only hope that you heed my advice.

Don't disregard what I have to say. My family line was not as prestigious as Lucius's was when we first came together, and I faced hardships as well, though nowhere near as difficult as you will have to deal with. Don't mistake these warnings for blessings or advice, for they serve the purpose of neither. Get that through your head now.

~N. Malfoy

Hermione read the letter twice. It was filled with bitterness and anger, all of which was pinpointed at her. The blond she was currently 'poisoning with her dirty blood'- according to this woman- read it over her shoulder. By the time she balled it up and threw it across the room, he had gotten through it a third time, annoyance speeding up his pace.

"Well of course it would be something like that! What did we expect? A cheerful letter full of good wishes from your mother? Or perhaps a blessing- but no, she wouldn't grace us with one of those, not that we need it!" She reached up and pulled at her hair. "Can't people just get over the fact that we are in a relationship? Why does everyone fight the fact so much?"

"Because it goes against everything," he sighed, rubbing his temples. Maybe he should've burned the letter.

She nodded furiously, finally releasing the grip she had on her curls. "It's not going to be easy- we knew that from the start. Your mother makes a valid point that she has no say in our relations, just like your father doesn't. It's really up to us, isn't it? That entire letter was sent to destroy our faith in what we have-"

"The entire letter was sent because she can't stand that I'm with you," he sighed, sitting down. He ran his fingers through his hair, his eyes turned away. "She is coyly trying to remove the focus from her hatred for you towards her fear for what might happen to us. It's something she taught me to do- so I already know the trick. Don't be fooled by it."

She sighed, sitting down beside him. "It's just there to mess with our minds, isn't it?"

"Yes," he replied, snaking an arm around her shoulders to pull her close. Kissing her temple, he rested his head against the side of hers. "It's never been easy Hermione, not since all of this started."

"Not since you decided to act out of character and help me in the corridor," she challenged, pulling away to meet his eyes. He in return held her gaze.

"Yes, not since then." Reaching out, he interlocked their fingers, something she stared at for a long time.

The situation she was in now was not where she had ever predicted she would end up. Malfoy was sweet, caring, and protective. She couldn't fathom how much torture she would've received had he not been around when her cancer sped up, when Rodolphus posed as Daniel Welsh and beat her, when she ran around looking for answers, when she was unsure about what to do next. Her long time enemy had become her savior, and she couldn't be happier in retrospect that it was him that saved her life.

A question of his from so many months ago rang clear in her head; What would you give, to save your life?

Looking back now, it seemed that they had both given everything. Pain, time, trust, love, compassion, fear, angry worry, they all had come into play at some point in time. And it was only because of that that she was still alive, and that he was more open.

She leaned up and kissed him, shoving her thoughts away. She was grateful to him, she had learned to feel love for him, and now she just wanted to feel him. And as though feeling her need, he responded eagerly, kissing her back with just as much compassion as she gave. It wasn't long before she had shoved him back, leaning her upper body against his.

He broke the kiss. "So Hermione?"

"Yes?" She rested on her arm.

He reached up long fingers, brushing her curls over her shoulder. "Breathe."

"Excuse me?"

The blond chuckled. "Breathe; you're too worried." He leaned up, kissing her once. "You have to let yourself go."

That was easy for him to say; Draco was rarely tense anymore. But she didn't say that, because for once she felt at ease. The gentle kisses, the thoughts passing through her mind, and the dwindling story had slowly eased her fear away.

Her abusers were in prison, and they would never come out. It was time to stop worrying, wasn't it?

"I guess I do." She kissed him, and he returned the favor.

Lying there in bed, sharing rough kisses, they couldn't tell anyone in the world where they would go from there, only that it would be someplace amazing. Because all they knew was that the worst of it was behind them, and things could only get better from there. Things were looking up, and if that moment was any indicator, it seemed that they would be around each other for a long time, to help fight away any additional problems.

But, those were events that had yet to unfold, and for now they were content lying there in bed in each other's arms. Their problems could wait until another day.

~FIN~

Dedication: This story was originally written based of the cancer my grandmother developed months ago. If she were here today, I would hope this is something she could be proud of me for writing, so this was written in her honor.

Additional as of 08/07/2013: A remake of this story will be posted sometime on this site. An A/n will be posted when that happens. Stay on the lookout for it!