Hi there!

It took me a while to finish this chapter I know, although I had it mostly ready.

I decided to conclude this story here, as I said before, I really like this pairing, but it seems like there aren't many readers interested in this particular story, except for the few ones who have been so kind to let me know that they have enjoyed it. So thank you to those who have taken a minute after reading a chapter to leave their thoughts about it, as always it's really appreciated :)

Anyway here's the last chapter. It's practically hurt/comfort, an emotional sex scene that includes feelings about the aftermath of what happened in the previous chapter, because I thought it would have be interesting having Alex "fuss" a bit over Maggie like that while struggling with her own emotions.

Now I'll leave you to it.

Enjoy

You have never been a particularly patient person, and you absolutely hate having to stay benched with nothing to do for extended periods of time.

Maybe it is you, or maybe it is a cop thing, whatever it is, even just the idea of doing nothing makes you impossibly restless, like a wild animal pacing in its cage. But you do acknowledge that after what happened, it will take you some time for you to completely recover.

And you haven't excluded Alex out of that equation.

Because even if you are the only one who has been hurt, it doesn't mean that you are the only one hurting right now.

So you play it nice and listen to orders, because the emotional aftermath of that unquestionably traumatic experience is there too, and you know that's gonna take as much time for it to heal as your actual physical injury, if not even longer, and that Alex, for how amazingly strong and brave she is, you are also perfectly aware of how tender and delicate and fragile she is under that first thick layer, and how much this experience has left her bristled, doesn't matter how hard she tries not to show it around you.

You catch her sometimes, during your convalescence, gazing at you in many different ways when she thinks you aren't aware of her doing so or vice versa.

Sometimes it is something lighthearted and amusing, like when your hand reaches of its own will to scratch the maddening itch on your healing ribs caused by the scarring and Alex throws you one of those playful, warning glares.

You swear that she must have some sort of sixth sense or something just as creepy because even when she is with her head buried deep into some case or lab result that she has brought home to study, she can somehow sense when you lift your hand with that purpose, and sometimes, without even picking her head up from her work, she would simply warn you with one of hers "don't even think about it, Sawyer."

The tone that she uses would intimidate even a veteran agent from the DEO, but you can only grin at her whenever she warns you like that, unable to resist the temptation to tease her back.

"Or what, Agent-Doctor Danvers?" You would ask, before deliberately dropping your voice into a more seductive tone. "You'll handcuff me somewhere? You know, I might like that, then maybe you can scratch this itch for me."

You don't think you'll ever get over the pure delight that always spreads inside you upon seeing her getting all flustered with that mix of embarassment, undeniable intrigue and plain glorious arousal at your words. You just love so much the flattering shade of pink that would warm her cheeks and the light that would sparkle into those deep darkening pools.

Some other times instead, the look that she sends you is more of an exasperated one, like when at her reminder to take your medications you either look at her apologetically or groan in annoyance. Because the constant reminder of being hurt and feeling weak gets you angry and frustrated.

Pain you can ignore it, pretend you can keep it at bay...

If only it didn't hurt Alex so much seeing you trying so hard to tolerate it.

If only it didn't kill you slowly from the inside having her looking at you with that gaze filled with concern whenever you wince or hiss softly, sweat breaking on your forehead, breathing getting heavy and uneven all because of a slightly careless or more shift movement that has you clutching at your side and struggling to not let it show too much.

But of course Alex notices it.

She always does.

"Please." She would beg you then, crounched down at your side, gently pulling away the hair stuck on your sweaty forehead with one hand, holding up your pills with the other, eyes filled with tears and desperation and the only kind of pain that you can't endure.

So you would take your medications, and let them numb you into that state of stupor and sleepiness that you hate more than the injury you are trying to recover from.

The first time you make love after all that happened, you are still tender and still technically recovering, but when an innocent kiss leads to a deeper one and then to another, until it turns into a full, heavy make out session, neither you or Alex can resist any longer the demand for so much more that sparks within you, letting your hands wander, seeking for soft skin and intimate warmth as your bodies start grinding not so subtly against each other.

Feeling something other than pain and weakness, feeling the pull of desire tugging low in your abdomen and feeling Alex's own need spiking with the same overwhelming intensity as she seeks for more of you, is like coming back to life.

At first you are so captured by the moment, so in love with the fact that Alex isn't as careful with you as you would have expected her to be, that when you finally make it to the bed, leaving a trail of descarded clothes behind, laying skin against skin, warmth against warmth with nothing in between, it takes you a few moments to realize that there is something... off,with Alex, with the way she touches you, with the way she kisses you, with the way she searches for more of you. So thirstily. So hungry. Feverishly.

But not in the way you are used to feel her.

The desire that has her touching you like that is tainted with something dark and wrong.

It's too urgent, too desperate.

Something that should never intrude into a blissful intimate moment of connection such as this one.

And it doesn't take long before, under those layers, you finally catch the glimpse of what is causing all of this.

Fear.

Sharp and cold.

It's like Alex isn't even here with you right now.

And so, when she spreads your legs and tries to enter you, seeking for that ultimate most intimate closeness, that's the moment when you can't take it anymore and gently push her back to look at her.

She registers the loss of your warmth before she registers the gentle grip on your wrist as you still her hand, searching her face, but finding only hunted, unfocused dark eyes that clear just barely after your whispered, concerned "Where are you?"

She blinks, and some more awareness seems to return at the sound of your voice, but it's still not enough, her gaze is still too clouded, and what she must think it's suppose to be a reassuring and obvious "I'm here, with you" is anything but.

Because she isn't.

You know exactly where she went.

Where her mind has dragged her into.

Back in that facility. With the smell of blood and doom and death filling the chilly air. With you struggling to breathe and fighting on instinct against the one holding you forcelly down while Alex digs her scalpel deep into your flesh.

The memory is vivid enough to make your stomach turn and you swear you can still hear the scream that has been ripped from your throat during those agonizing moments echoing in your mind.

But you can force those thoughts away, lock them where they can't reach for you, something that Alex seems unable to do right now on her own.

But that's okay.

You have every intention of taking care of that for her.

So you pull away even further, feeling your heart break all over again when, at your first attempt to reverse your position, Alex clings even more desperately onto you, eyes wide and terrified as if you could turn into a puff of smoke and disappear at any moment, leaving her alone with the cold hollow that has pierced her heart.

"No, no. Please, please Maggie," She begs you trying to pull you closer, feeling a knot tightening in your throat at the desperation in her hushed vulnerable broken voice. "Please, I-I I need this."

You know she does. God, you need that too.

Feeling her in that way. Connecting with her like you have craved to during the past weeks.

But not like this.

The reason that fuels her need and makes it so desperate is wrong and corrupted.

You swallow hard, trying unsucessfully to get rid of that lump stuck in your throat as you trace the side of her face with your thumb. "It's okay," You tell her, trying to convey all the reassurance you need her to feel through that simple gesture.

The softness in your voice seems to work a little too, and the layers of tension that you feel leave her body spur you to continue.

"I'm here." You reassure her again and although she looks still uncertain, still scared and lost, she seems to give in to the tender touch until her hold around you loosen enough to allow you to reverse your position.

You end up on top of her, and maybe it is the familiar position, the way your bodies fit just so perfectly against the other's like this, whatever it is, it makes you immeasurably grateful when you feel Alex's chest lift just a little slower, a little easier. Breathing more calm, smoother.

"I'm here." You repeat for good measure, because if that, along with the warmth of your body pressed right against hers is the only thing that helps her in this situation, if this is the only way to reassure her and help her realize that you are not going anywhere, that there is no other place in the world for you than right here, with her, then you are going to keep saying it to her over and over again until she'll finally believe you.

But it won't take that much.

Slowly, her body starts to melt beneath yours, not as much as you would like to, but enough to let you know that this is working, encouraging you to keep going.

And so you tell her, "close your eyes, Alex."

As you expected, she stiffens immediately at the request, the cold shade of panic flashing instantly into those dark pools. And you know, from that look alone, that she is afraid, convinced that if she closes her eyes again she will fall right into the clutches of those still fresh, terrifying memories that keep hunting her. But you won't let that happen again.

"Trust me." You ask her softly, cupping her cheek, "I'm still here. I'm not going anywhere."

She leans into your hand, gently grabbing your wrist to keep you there as her gaze locks with yours in search of further reassurance.

There is so much love in there.

So much fear and pain mingled together that it kills you. You want to take it away, but you are scared to do it in the wrong way and risk of hurting her further, of tearing her apart at the seam and shatter all that pure good that remains tangled there in the process.

But then she nods and obeys, hesitantly, taking a deep shaky breath before letting her eyes flutter shut. Her hand still holding yours as an anchor, and you squeeze it lightly in silent confirmation.

You can't even help but take a moment to just look at her, taking in every single inch of her strong yet delicate and absolutely gorgeous features, thinking that you'll never find the words to describe and tell her exactly how breathtakingly beautiful she is. How there is nothing else on earth as wonderful as she.

You barely register the moment you lean in and kiss her. Softly. Delicately. At first is nothing but a brush of lips against lips. Tentative on purpose. Wanting to see how she reacts and when, after a few moments her lips start moving with yours, seeking for that familiarity, only then you deepen it, but keeping it slow, keeping it gentle as you pour all your comfort and raw affection into it.

You pull back only because you can no longer go without air, earning a whimper of protest from Alex who tangles her hand in your hair, trying to pull you down once again, but with less demand and with that something that is starting to feel a lot more like Alex again.

"Not going anywhere baby." You promise her again to keep her calm and she exhales, a sound that comes out between a shaky sigh and a whimper as she nods.

"Just listen to my voice, okay?" You tell her then, gently stroking her cheek and nuzzling the side of her nose with yours. "And feel me."

She nods again and lets out a soft noise of agreement as she turns her head, searching your lips for another kiss. One you are more than happy to return now.

It doesn't take long for this one to become more heated however.

When you run your tongue across her bottom lip, almost teasingly, she doesn't waste a second to let you deepen it, eagerly parting her lips and greeting the warmth of the inside of your mouth with her own tongue, moaning at the first slippery touch.

You can feel her melting a little at the time, feel the hold of anxiety and grief that was chocking your soul at the idea that she would have shattered at this loses its deadly grip on you at the same rate your kiss escalates of intensity and with it your hands join in with more conviction and a purposeful touch.

Running your fingers along her sides, tracing the delicious curve of her waist, the sensual dip at the juncture of her thigh, hearing her gasp hotly as your fingertips graze that particularly sensitive area.

"Can you feel me, Alex?" You ask her whispering the words against her neck, softly, quietly, not exactly looking for an answer but more than thrilled when you hear her breathe out a shaky "yes" that drips with the same need that is having her gripping more solidly your hip and digging her blunt nails on your lower back.

It makes you bite back a hiss of delight as you smile against the sweet-salty skin of her throat.

"Good." You lay a kiss there that makes her arch delightfully under you. "Just focus on my touch then baby."

And she does.

You kiss your way up her neck, paying attention to all the sensitive spots there that you know have her squirm oh so deliciously, letting your tongue peak out to lick teasingly right behind her ear, a gesture that earns you the first unconscious roll of her hips, just like nibbling softly lower at her pulse point has the first breahty moan fall from her lips.

A shiver crawls up your spine at that, because, God... how much you love that sound.

You can't even resist the temptation to repeat it again and the response is the same, a bit louder as she clings onto you a little harder, and this time it feels much more like you are used to feel her. With no urgency, no desperation, just the desire to bring you closer and keep you melted against her.

The search of closeness makes you shift in your position, bringing your leg right in between hers, making you gasp in unison, you at the feeling of her wetness coating your skin, and Alex for the pressure you apply in the unintentional movement.

She is so slick.

So impossibly warm.

And the thought that she wants you so much that she is literally dripping against you, is almost overwhelming.

"Maggie..." She begs you, and you don't have to ask her what she needs, what she wants like you usually do just because you love hearing her express openly what she craves. This time, you don't make her wait a second longer.

You capture her lips in a kiss that is fervent, brusing, a prefect contrast to how you bring your hand between her legs, almost tentatively at first, before gently parting her folds and start circling the hard little bud of nerves nestled there, slowly, wanting her to feel each single stroke just as you want to feel her harden further and become even more wet right under your fingertips, until your movements are so slick that with each lift of her hips searching for more you slip further down. Right where you know she wants you more than anything.

You didn't mean to tease her, but you didn't even mean to slip right inside of her, deep till your knuckles in one thrust. But she is just so wet that you can't help it, and you certainly don't mind the clinging warmth that surrounds you all of a sudden or the way Alex moans your name, loudly, just as her features shape into that look of pure bliss.

You stay still for a few seconds, letting her breathing return to normal as she gets used to the feeling of the new, welcome intrusion, and when her attention, her entire being, seems to be focused just on your touch, you ask her one last time "Can you feel me?"

And this time, as you begin to move inside of her, slowly, sweetly, she makes herself heard."God... Yes."

You talk to her the entire time, sweet nothing whispered in her ear in between soft pants and kisses and bites against the sweaty skin of her jaw and neck and breasts, reassuring words of comfort filling the space remaining between her moans, praising terms of encouragements that leave your lips in pure awe, because she is doing so good and you never hold back your praises knowing how deliciously she reacts whenever you tell her how much a good girl she is, how perfect she is.

You don't think your heart will ever stop doing that flip inside your chest whenever you see her like this.

"So beautiful." You murmur, and it takes you a moment to realize that the words aren't just echoing in your mind, but it's nothing you have ever held back before, and you never will.

She lifts her hips in time with your gentle thrusts, seeking you, meeting you halfway, trying to take you in deeper but letting you establish the pace just as you let her bring you closer, her arms circling your shoulders and holding you impossibly close.

You thrust in slowly, making sure that she feels every single inch of you just as you make sure to feel every ridge of her velvety inner walls as she flutters and clenches around you everytime you go to pull out only to push back in a second later.

As the sounds of you loving her and the thick, syrupy, heady scent of her arousal fills the air, you barely resist the urge to grind against the thigh that she slips between yours, but you manage, because this isn't about you, this is about Alex, and your growing need for her can wait until you have taken away every remnant of hurt and fear and insecurity and yes, even guilt, from her.

That's your priority.

Alex well-being will always be your priority.

In a way, that's what brought you dealing with this delicate situation in the first place.

But you are taking care of it, and for how simple, this, seems to work.

It doesn't take her long to get very closer to her apex.

Your previous touches and loving attentions had her more worked up than you imagined.

You can feel it from the way her inner muscles clench more frequently around you, from the way her hips lift more often, trying to keep you inside her. Trying to get more of you. And you give her everything she needs, adding a third finger, curling them gently inside of her.

"Maggie." She moans your name like it is something sacred, and can perfectly hear the prayer in it.

"I'm here baby, I'm here with you." You tell her kissing away the few tears that have leaked from the corner of her eyes; tears that you know are just the result of her being a little overwhelmed by this, and to prove it, her stuttered "I'm... Ah... I'm going to-" confirms it.

"I know." You reassure her, pulling back just enough to look at the magnificent sight that she is. "It's okay, let it go Alex, come for me."

And just like that, with an expert curl of your fingers inside of her and a couple of slippery strokes of your thumb across her hardened clit, she does.

Her entire body tenses for a hot second under yours, and then the pleasure assaults her in multiple waves. Slow and steady and sweet. But intese enough to leave her breathless as she clings tightly onto you for endlessly long seconds of pure bliss.

You don't stop when the first wave hits her, you keep touching her, drawing every single shudder out of her body until she is a completely spent, panting, boneless, satisfied pool beneath you. And only then you slow down until you still the moment, but you don't slip out of her immediately. You know she enjoys the connection even after, and you do too. So you keep your hand there, cupping her heated, tender sex protectively, careful to not overstimulate her as you roll just a bit off her, enough to look into those stunning dark hazel eyes that for the first time, as they blink open, are finally clear and devoid of the hunting pain and guilt that you have seen lingering in there for way too long.

That should be enough as a confirmation. But once she comes fully down from her high and recovers, you still ask her, in a soft whisper, wanting to be absolutely sure.

"How do you feel?"

She knows what you really mean with that.

And she smiles, fully, a bit teary, but unmistakably happy and visibly relieved. Free.

She cups your cheek, tracing the side of your face and looking at you with infinite adoration.

"Now I'm good."

You smile too, reading the unwavering sincerity in her gaze.

"Remember that I'm here Alex. Always." You remind her, "And I love you." More than I could ever be able express with simple words, you add silently in your mind, watching as new happy tears form onto those big dark eyes.

"I know. I love you too," Her voice cracks a bit with emotions, but the rich smile tugging at her lips eases your concerns as she concludes, leaning to rest even closer to you. "And that's all I need."

It feels like a promise.

And the lingering kiss that she places oh so tenderly against your lips, tastes a lot like a sweet forever.

Thanks for reading everyone