A/N: This one's short, but I feel like everything that needs to be said gets said. Plus Hyde isn't a huge chatterbox. Thanks so much to everyone who read the story, and especially to the people who reviewed! It means a lot.

Also, I highly recommend that you listen to "Thank You" by Led Zeppelin. It's a really beautiful song. Actually, just listen to all their songs, they're a pretty kickass band :)

2:31 AM, APRIL 22 1984

Fuck.

I'm married.

And not just married, married to Jackie. Jackie Burkhart. Jackie Hyde now, I guess. Shit, we have the same last name. We have matching silver rings. We have an apartment, and someday we'll have a house, and someday we'll have a kid. Maybe more than one.

And I'm not even freaking out.

Sure, I'm a little stunned. Well, very stunned. I never thought any of this would happen to me. If someone had asked me six years ago where I thought I would be in 1984, I would have said one of Orwell's prison camps. But here I am, in a king-size bed with silk sheets, in a hotel suite paid for by my rich black dad, with my hot, bitchy wife sleeping naked next to me.

Not girlfriend. Wife. She's my wife now. And I'm her husband. And we're married.

And I'm not even freaking out.

Yeah, it's true that I don't freak out much. Over the years I've learned to stay calm, cool, and collected through just about anything. Sure, I get into the occasional fight to stay in decent shape, but I always stay Zen (which is why I win every fight I get into). But this is marriage. If anything should freak me out, it's this insane situation I've gotten myself into. I'm gonna have to wake up next to this woman every morning, kiss her before going to bed every night, listen to her incessant chatter, deal with her obsession with unicorns and Donny Osmond and the color pink.

To be honest, it sounds too good to be true.

I should feel terrified, like it'll all be taken from me when I least expect it. I should dread falling asleep in case I wake up in a gutter or a prison cell and find out that it was all some acid-laced-pot-induced dream.

But Jackie just shifted in her sleep and she's pressed up even more firmly against my body. Her soft skin, the smell of her hair, her incoherent, sleepy mumblings (damn, does she ever stop talking?), it's all so real. I free my left arm from where it's trapped between her back and my chest and drape it over her body. My hand finds hers in the dark and I tangle our fingers together, hearing the near-silent clink of our wedding bands.

And I have to admit, I've never been less freaked out in my life.

I meant it all. Everything I told her during our first dance, everything Robert Plant crooned to her, I meant it. Just about every good thing in my life is thanks to her.

And now she finally knows it.

Hope you enjoyed it, and thanks again!