There was a moment in which Sam hoped he had imagined the knock on the door. Everyone stayed quiet and frozen, none of them even daring to breathe. But there was no such luck. In no time at all, the door opened and footsteps could be heard on the narrow hall.

Kyle let Kay go and pushed off the wall at the same time Jimmy turned towards the entrance, fists raised.

"Hey guys."

Every muscle in Sam's body tensed at the voice. Rage, bitterness, sorrow. Everything rushed through him a moment before Harry James made his way inside the room with them. He wore a black suit and white shirt, his hands behind his back. He looked so odd, so clean and healthy.

Christine's grip on Sam's knee tightened and all his hard feelings towards his former best friend fell upon him like a wet, uncomfortable blanket.

"What the hell are you doing here?" The words were out before Sam could stop them, a lot more belligerent than they should be.

Harry froze in the entrance to the hallway, the tentative smile on his face sliding off. Watching him, Sam realized what was going on, but he didn't want to believe it. It should have been Herrison instead of him. The Agency had no morals, no sense of decency, sending the son to do what the dead father could not.

"Didn't you guys send the distress signal so that we'd come get you?" Harry asked, a note of disdain in his voice.

Sam froze, all sorrow retreating inside him for later. The only one who still had a watch was Jessie, but even so, they weren't routed to provide the Agency with signals. And Sam was sure none of them had called the cavalry over.

"Yes, we did," Angie said, surprisingly. Sam noticed her tightening her hold on Tom's arm as if to make sure he wouldn't open his mouth to blow it.

"Took you long enough," Kay said with a huff, immediately jumping on board.

Harry grinned, once again comfortable with his role in all this. "You guys look like shit."

"Wow, Harry. Sensitive," Tom said, rolling his eyes. "Mature."

Harry was no longer listening. His gaze had moved from the people in the room to the giant green jewel on the kitchen table. His eyes widened, and he took a step inside the room. Sam had to fight the impulse to grab the thing and shove it back in his pocket. It was no use. They knew they had it and he'd have to give it up unless they really wanted to die and be left to rot in that little house.

"I can't believe you managed to get one," Harry said. "May I?"

Hating Harry and himself and the fates that had brought them here, Sam snarled, but handed it over. It took his former best friend less than a thirty seconds to turn it on all sides, then make it disappear inside him own coat pocket.

"I think you're more than ready to go home," he said, his voice cheery, as if to overcompensate for all the hatred against him filling the room.

"How many men are with you?" Kyle asked.

Harry couldn't hide a tiny shudder. Kyle's face was full of blood splatters after all. "A few. Why?"

He wasn't alone, and that was what Kyle had meant to confirm. There was no way they were ambushing him now. Harry had a point. They did need to get home. And talking, deciding, could wait. They needed everyone for that. And Sam needed to get to Sammy.

"So they can help us get out of here," he answered, getting to his feet. Christine followed, her hand moving to his shoulder.

Harry stared at her for a moment, but then decided to act as if she wasn't there. "Sure," he said. "Some of you really look like you need a hospital." He glanced from Tom, who needed Jerry and Angie to stand, to Jimmy who was still covered in blood.

"That sounds lovely," Tom said with his usual sarcasm.

The other didn't say anything, they just followed Harry towards the exit. Sam stayed behind, though he wasn't exactly sure why. Maybe to put as much distance between him and Harry as possible.

Christine squeezed his shoulder. "We'll finish this at home. But for now, we get to go to Sammy."

Sam took her hand and nodded. She had a point. Sammy was a lot more important now. Everything else could wait.

🏯

Jimmy couldn't believe he was back inside his apartment. The moment he and Jessie stepped through the door, it felt like they'd gone back in time to the moment before she left. And yet, neither of them were the same people anymore.

"We're home," Jessie breathed, dropping her small backpack on the floor and taking in the place. "I can't believe we're back here." She turned to him and took his face in her hands. "I can't believe you're with me, that you're okay."

Jimmy wasn't okay, not really, but he was better than he'd been in a good long while. Sure, his muscles ached, his ribs stung, his face throbbed, and Kyle's last punch had nearly cracked his sternum, but he could walk and talk and handle himself, which was way better than what he could've hoped for. Then there was the dull ache inside his chest brought on by the blood he'd spilled, the way he'd hurt Jessie, attacked Kyle. Deep down he knew it was a result of the pill, of the brainwashing by the Agency, but it still hurt.

They would pay. It was only a matter of time and coming up with the perfect strategy.

Jessie didn't seem to notice his mood as she hurried into their bedroom and let herself plummet on the bed. He followed her, a small smile on his face.

"I missed you," she said, spreading out her arms. "Oh, how I missed you."

He'd missed it too. The bed, being alone with Jessie, not having anyone breathing down his neck. The thought made him wince, because it reminded him of what had happened to Kato. Jessie fell silent, too, and her smile slipped away. She sat up and looked at him, sorrow in her eyes.

"What happened to him is not your fault," she whispered.

Jimmy nodded, but his eyes still stung as tears filled them. He swallowed heavily and let out a deep breath.

"Jimmy?" She now sounded wary. "Come here."

He walked to her, but didn't sit on the bed, instead kneeling in front of her. He'd need that for later. "Yes?"

She took his face in her hands and gazed into his eyes. It made him feel better. She always did.

"You're hurting," she said.

He nodded again, not sure where she was going with this.

"And the thing with Kyle..."

"Don't get me started on how fucked up that one was--"

"No! I mean there's regret. There's pain. You told me you were sorry you had to slash through all those goons"

"Yes?" He was still sorry, but he could get over that quite easily. He'd done worse.

"Hotstuff, you're feeling!"

Her words drove away the pain and the confusion. He'd been so absorbed by everything happening, he never got to properly analyze what was going on, but she was right. Ever since he'd become himself again, his feelings were no longer muted. Whatever the Agency had pumped him with, it seemed to have the opposite effect outside his blackouts.

"You're right," he said, his voice filled with wonder. "Let's hope it will last."

She pressed her lips against his, tears sliding down her cheeks. "It will last forever. We have to believe that. And take every little good thing that comes our way."

"Yeah, about that..." He shoved his hand in his back pocket and pulled out the tiny velvet box he'd stored in there. "I think I owed you a ring."

Jessie's eyes widened as she glanced from his face to the box. "When did you even...?"

"I snuck out of the hospital." He grinned and opened the box so she could see the ring inside. It was nothing fancy, just a thin gold band and a tiny diamond that looked as if it was hugged by the gold. He'd like that, because it reminded him of them.

Jessie seemed to like it too, because her eyes filled with tears again, but this time, she looked ecstatic. "It's so beautiful. Gimme!"

He pulled it from her reach. "Oh no. I'm doing it." And he took it out and slipped it on her finger. It looked as if it belonged there. "There, now it's even more official."

She flung her arms around his neck and moved from the bed, into his lap. "I love you so much! And no, this is not a small good thing. This is a huge good thing and--" She cut off and looked at the ring again. "I can't believe this is happening. But in the best way possible."

"I think we deserve it, Sunshine. After all we've been through, we deserve to be happy."

She nodded, though there was a small frown on her face. "Yes. But we still have things to finish. When are Tom and Angie flying in?"

"I spoke to Tom. He said he estimates another two or three days. He's okay after the surgery, but they still need to hold him for another few days."

Jessie nodded. "Yes, makes sense." She admired her ring again. "First, we deal with this. Then, we give everyone the awesome news."

"Agreed." Because he too felt as if their interrupted discussion still weighed on all of them. 

They hadn't gotten their closure, but they all needed to be there, and they needed a safe place. And since Tom's injuries didn't allow for a fifteen hour flight, he'd stayed in Tokyo with Angie for the surgery and recovery. He'd insisted that they all fly home, and none of them had complained. They had to pick up the pieces of their abandoned lives and try to glue it back together at least a little before all hell could break loose again.

Sam needed to get to Sammy. And him and Jessie... Well, they needed this. A few more days of seclusion and bliss before bombs started dropping again. He hadn't even told her about Billy, and maybe he should, but he somehow wanted to mention it to everyone at once.

And right now, he'd much rather get into something else. Like all the things Kato wouldn't allow them. Because now he didn't need his ki for shit. He needed her. And when he kissed her, picked her up and threw her on the bed, he could see that she needed it as much as he did.

🏯

The moment Tom opened his eyes after the surgery, the first thing that came to view was Angie. She sat by his bed, holding his hand and smiling. It wasn't teary or exhausted, but genuinely happy, and it made him instantly feel better.

"Please tell me something good happened." His words came out slurred and croaky. His mouth felt incredibly dry.

"Yes. You woke up."

"Har har." He tried to sit up, but his entire body protested and a pounding in his temple almost had him throwing up.

"Not so fast." She pressed a button on the side of the bed and the pillow raised automatically.

Right, he knew how hospital beds worked. He used to play with Sam's all the time while he was in a comma. But the anesthetic had messed with his brain. And his throat. As if guessing this, Angie handed him a glass of water with a straw in it and helped him drink.

"Better?" she asked.

He nodded, feeling a little more like himself. "How's everyone?"

"Probably home by now. And you're also fine. The doctors said you should be able to walk again soon enough. There wasn't any bone damage, but part of your sinews were ruptured and they had to fix that."

"Thank God." 

He couldn't imagine a life in which he wouldn't be able to walk, run, jump. Dance. With her. The way her eyes shone when she looked at him filled his heart. It also brought to the forefront something that had to be cleared up and fast. They were out of the cages, out from under the direct threat of death, and it changed everything.

"Angie..."

"Wait." She raised her hand. "Let me go first. Nothing has changed for me. I meant everything I said while we were in that castle. I do want us to figure all of this out together. Be together. Because I love you, Tom. And I don't think anything's going to change that."

For some reason, her words felt more honest now than they ever had. Maybe because they were no longer on the edge, or mad at each other. Because he really wasn't. He'd learned something in there. He would always want to protect her, no matter what. And she did make him happy.

"We have some work to do," he said. Because that was the sum of everything. If they both accepted to grow, they had a chance to actually be happy.

"Yes, I know." She took his hand and squeezed. "We were both wrong, and we both have issues. But from now on, I want to talk. Whenever you feel jealous, or like I'm abandoning you or I do anything that triggers you in any way, let me know. And we'll figure it out."

"I think the jealousy thing will no longer be a problem." He shifted a little. His entire body still ached. "But I'll let you know. And I also want you to count on me when there's trouble. Because I think I've proved it repeatedly that I can handle it."

She leaned in and kissed him on the cheek. "You have. All the time. If there's one thing I've learned while being on the run, it's that I don't need that. I need a home. And you are my home. You and all my wonderful friends who put up with my shit and still took me back. I'm never leaving again."

He raised his eyes to hers, wondering why he dared hope. But it was like Kyle said. All in. The only answer was to throw himself in headfirst and hope the happiness was worth the risk. Proof was in the pain.

She wasn't watching him anymore, but rather his arms, tracing her fingers along the scars there. Right, now his arms were fucked as well. At least they didn't hurt yet because of the drugs. He could kiss wearing t-shirts goodbye. Unless...

"How would you feel about tattoo sleeves?" he asked, keeping his tone conversational.

Angie jumped and looked at him, a little fear in her eyes. "Haven't you had enough pain?"

He gave a half-shrug. "This would actually let me wear t-shirts and still go to the beach."

"I don't think I could handle it." There was a small, devious smile on her face. "I mean, how much hotter could you get? I'll have to beat obsessive stalker girls off you with a stick."

He grinned. "I'm sure you can handle it."

"You bet your ass, I can."

This. He loved this so much. Laughing and joking with her, being just... Them. Crazy and inappropriate.

"Okay," he said.

She pulled back, looking a little surprised. "Okay as in...?"

"As in we can try to be together again."

There was no trying. When her mouth landed over his in an enthusiastic kiss, he knew this was it. They were together. And he trusted that she meant it. That she'd learned her lesson and wouldn't run again. That they'd talk and that they would hold each other up and help each other grow. 

The two unwanted, the two left behind were now neither. Now, they were happy.

🏯

"How does three months sound?" Kay tried to sound nonchalant as she washed the coffee mugs in the sink. 

She couldn't believe it was the first thing she was doing, but without any luggage to unpack, she felt the need for something mundane to take the edge off. It was the first time she and Kyle had been truly alone since the entire debacle in Japan.

The lack of answer had her freezing. "Kyle?"

He still didn't answer and she got the sinking feeling that something was wrong. She abandoned the mug and wiped her hands, then headed for their bedroom. She hadn't been wrong, Kyle was really in there, with his back to her, shirtless, staring at the bed.

The gashes on his back had her breath catching in her throat. He turned, a worried frown on his face and she took in the half-healed slash over his chest, the myriad of tiny scars on his side, on his arms. His lip was still busted, his face bruised, and the cut across his eyebrow still there from Jimmy's punches.

She knew he would heal, that his skin would become flawless once again, because he didn't scar. But she also knew he'd felt every last one of those hits and cuts. He'd felt the torture. And the aftermath of the fight with Jimmy.

"I'm just so sorry all of this had to happen," she said, her voice shaky.

"What on earth are you talking about? You have nothing to feel sorry for!" He looked at his hands and she was shocked to see that they were shaking. "It's me. All me."

"Kyle, no." She stepped towards him, wanting to hold him, but he stepped back. It hurt, but not enough to make her blind to the obvious. He was not okay. "What happened? I can see you're hurting. Just talk to me."

His hands shook even worse and he wouldn't raise his face to look at her. Before she could open her mouth again, he finally glanced at her. The pain in his eyes froze her.

"I thought I could do this, but I can't."

"What are you talking about?"

"And maybe," he said, his voice barely louder than a whisper. "Maybe you won't want to get married anymore."

He was insane. Jimmy had definitely punched the common sense out of him. "Nothing in this world could make me not want to get married. Just tell me. We can get through it together."

Kyle took one step forward, the agony on his face even worse if possible. "You were pregnant," he whispered. "But we lost the baby when you fell."

His words were like lightning. Singing her and then plunging her into darkness. She was vaguely aware that her knees buckled, that he caught her and sat her on the bed. But as the initial shock of the news faded, she realized that she knew.  Her body felt weird, swollen, and her period had been short and wonky.

"I'm so sorry," he said.

"It's not your fault." The words were out before she could filter them, but they felt true. "Don't blame yourself for one second."

"I can't help it. And not telling you... But I thought I could do this alone."

She took his face in her hands and forced him to look at her. "You don't have to do this alone. It's our burden. Because yes, I still want to marry you. More than ever." It was awful, but they still had each other. And as long as they did, she could get through anything. Even this.

He shook his head. "It's not just that. The whole thing with Jimmy--"

She squeezed harder to trap his words in. "No. You did what you had to do. And I'm still the one able to pull you out from the darkness. We've got this. We can do it."

He didn't seem very convinced, but he nodded, took her hand and kissed her fingers. He shouldn't doubt her. She turned him into mush, and it was obvious. So she climbed into his lap and hugged him as hard as she could. He hugged her back and they sat in silence for a few long minutes.

The more the time passed, the more she got used to the idea of what happened and could breathe again. It wasn't the end of the world, and after everything that happened to them, she just wanted to be happy.

"And about my fall..." The words seemed to tear at her insides, but she pushed past it. Because as much as it hurt, they were both strong and would get over it. "After the wedding, we can start trying insensately until we make a baby. We will do this."

"Then I'll have to disagree with you," he said, sounding a little more like himself. "Why wait three months? What's wrong with one?"

His words brought a smile to her face. "I wanted to give Tom and, well, everyone a little time to recover."

"He'll be fine. I would've suggested next week if it wasn't for all this mess we still have to fix." 

He had a point, but until then, they still had a few days of peace. So she leaned in and kissed him. Lightly at first, then deeper.

"We can do this," she whispered as she pulled away.

His smile was genuine this time. "I actually think we can, too. Both the Agency crap and the baby."

She grinned back. "Can't we start now?"

"I thought you'd never ask."

She laughed as he picked her up, just to drop her on the bed again. "I mean, not really make a baby right now, but at least practice for the wedding night?"

And just like that, the darkness and sadness around him disappeared. He climbed over her and kissed her. It worked for him. She worked for him. And even after seeing the worst in him, she wouldn't even dream of changing one tiny thing about him.

She'd meant it with all her heart. They had this. And they would get married and make beautiful babies.

🏯

Maxi Grant couldn't remember the last time she'd felt so scared. But the days passed by and as she took care of her granddaughter, everything seemed to blur together. Angie had left weeks ago and no one had given her a sign that they weren't all dead. She'd mentioned that there would be a something that would let her know, but she had nothing.

Sammy cried and fussed, picking up on her fear, on her crummy mood. Maxi had been perfectly fine babysitting, but taking care of an infant twenty-four seven was something she'd long outgrown. She couldn't handle the sleepless nights, the crying, the stress of feeding her anymore. And she was turning out such a picky eater.

"Where are you Angie?" she whispered as she watched the carrot mash spinning in the blender. "Where are you all?" Because Sam would've never abandoned his child. And this radio silence... If Angie hadn't forced it on her, she could've contacted Skye's parents, asked for their help with this.

As it was, she was alone with a baby. And what would she do if everyone was dead? Her heart tightened and tears filled her eyes. Sammy began crying again, flailing her tiny fists in the air.

"Shhhh, it's okay," Maxi cooed, but her voice was drowning in tears. Sammy only cried harder.

There was a knock on the door. Maxi's blood froze in her veins. She immediately picked Sammy up from her highchair and pulled back to the corner of the kitchen, clutching her to her chest. The baby's wails turned more desperate, dooming them both.

Then, there was the sound of the key in the lock. The sound filled her with hope for a moment. Angie had the key. Maybe it was Angie.

"Mom?"

It wasn't Angie. She rushed to the door so fast, she almost collided with Sam and Christine who had reached the doorway.

"Sammy!" Christine said, her voice filled with undisguised joy. "Oh, how you've grown!"

Sam relived Maxi of the baby immediately and caught her in a tight hug. Of course she stopped crying immediately, staring from her father to Christine with curious eyes.

"Hey there, baby," Sam whispered. "Remember me?"

"It's your daddy," Christine said, taking the baby's hand and shaking it. "We're back. We're here to take you home."

Maxi took a step back to give them some space, trying to take everything in. Sam was thin. He had bruises on his face and his hair was longer than she had ever seen it. Christine looked fine, though her cheeks were also a little hollow. The sweater hung off her. And yet, here they were, tickling Sammy, grins on both their faces, as if Angie hadn't mentioned they could all be dead.

She opened her mouth to ask, make sense of their sudden return, but no sound came out. She was too fascinated by how Sam passed the baby to Christine, how both of them were leaning over her, their foreheads almost touching. And when Christine raised her eyes to look at Sam, her face was filled with joy and adoration. Sam smiled back, so tender. Maxi had no idea what had happened and when, but they looked more in love than they had when they were actually dating.

She swelled at the idea. After all, Christine had cheated on Sam and ridiculed him in front of the entire world, had sent him to therapy and... Brought about everything, including Sammy's birth.

"Is everyone okay?" she asked instead of taking a shot at Christine.

"Oh, Mom, right, sorry." Sam took a step away from Christine and his daughter, towards his mother. "Yes, we all got out. It's... Well, complicated as it always is."

"Who was it?" It was all Maxi cared about once hearing that all her children were fine.

Sam hesitated for a moment. "Snitch Gravel."

The answer felt like a hammer to the chest. She stumbled back and caught herself on the kitchen table. "What?" She'd thought it was over. That after Freider died, there would be no more of this. "What did he do to you?"

"We're not sure exactly what he wanted from us," Sam said, totally avoiding her question. "But in the end..." He narrowed his eyes at her. "He let us go."

She knew Sam was watching, but Maxi couldn't keep in the sigh of relief. But the feeling was quickly replaced by doubt and confusion. Because Sam wasn't saying much and she knew he wouldn't. Neither would anyone else.

"Are you ready to go home, Sammy?" Christine cooed, bouncing Sammy up and down. "Oh, how I missed you. I thought about you every day. So did your daddy." She raised her eyes. "Can we go home, Sam?"

Sam turned to her and a smirk played on his lips, obviously noticing how she'd made it sound as if they had a common home. But the moment he turned back to Maxi, he was once again serious.

"Need help packing, Mom? I'm sure you want to se everyone else."

Maxi shook her head. "No. You stay with Sammy. I'm sure you missed her. I'll be done in a moment." But as she headed for the bedroom, she lingered in the doorway.

Sam and Christine were once again entranced by the baby, Sam holding her and Christine blowing raspberries on her tummy. Her full baby laugh filled the apartment.

"Look at her, Sam!" Christine said, caressing Sammy's cheeks. "She's okay! We have her back. I mean, you have her back."

Sam laughed and wrapped his Sammy-free arm around Christine's shoulders. "Don't be silly." He kissed her hair. "We have her back. And I can't wait to get home."

Maxi took it as her cue to get started on packing. The truth was, she couldn't wait to get to her silent house either. And see all her children whenever they would feel like it. Because this was further proof that they no longer depended on her for anything. Just needed her to be an occasional baby sitter.

For some reason, it made her proud.

🏯🏯🏯

And we're finally winding down before the end. We get a bit of closure and we also get to see Harry and what he's up to. 

But, there is still the matter of the Agency and what they'll do about it now that the cat's out of the bag. And also, what the hell was up with Snitch? Why did he let them go?

Stay tuned for the final 2 chapters of the story! Vote and comment for support.