A long white building loomed on the horizon, and Finn followed Emily's instructions to take the next exit. In her lap, fingers drummed against her thigh and he had to resist the urge to place his hand on hers. Instead he flicked on the turn signal and entered the hospital grounds.

Once parked, she jumped out of the car and bolted for the hospital entrance. Long legs allowed him to catch up easily, never hesitating to stay with her. Finn told himself he would be there in case Emily needed anything else, not knowing what they were walking into. At least until her family arrived.

"Are you a relative?" The nurse at the reception desk asked.

Emily's voice was strong and calm. "Yes, she's my Aunt. I have power of attorney if needed."

"Oh, not necessary." The nurse checked her computer screen. "She's been moved to the Simpson wing. Take the purple elevators at the end of the hall, to the 5th floor."

Side by side, they sped down the corridor leading to the private wing and stepped into a waiting elevator. The wide doors closed, locking Finn and Emily into the metal box. The floor shook as they inched up, and Finn squeezed Emily's hand.

His heart skipped a beat. He was holding Emily's hand. When had that happened? As the realization hit, he flexed to release her. She tightened her fingers, securing his grip.

Seconds ticked by as the elevator hummed. Finn revelled in the simple pleasure of holding her hand. The warm skin, the delicate fingers against his calloused ones. He stole a glance at her profile. Tension rolled off of Emily and again he wanted to say something comforting. Instead, he dragged his thumb over the top of her hand, trying to show what he could not say.

The elevator bobbed for a moment before the doors slowly slid open. Emily seemed to hesitate, and Finn stepped forward, leading the way. She followed.

Hands still clasped, he stopped at the nurses' station. "We...We're looking for Emily Pattersen's room." The tingly sensation of holding Emily's hand spread up his arm and across his chest. It was both a balm and a sting, bringing parts of him to life.

"She's resting in room 509. That way." The nurse pointed to her leftl. "Just around the corner. The doctor will be along shortly."

They walked down the hall, following the nurses instructions and Finn found his feet slowing. What would happen when they got to the room? Emily would let go and he'd be lost again. But he had no choice. This was temporary.

A silver plaque on the wall indicated 509 and he planted his feet on the spotless linoleum. "I'll wait out here."

"Will you come in with me?" Silver eyes met his. "I'm not sure I can..."

The lump in Finn's throat made it impossible to speak. A nod had to suffice.

She took a deep breath and, relaxing her grip on Finn's hand, pushed through the door. His hand ached at the loss of contact and he focused on the tiny tendrils of hair that had slipped from her swept up hair. He should be consoling her, but right now he craved the comfort of the feel of her hair slipping through his fingers.

Except for the evenly spaced beeping of the machine sitting beside an unconscious Aunt E, the bright, spacious room sat quiet. Sunlight flooded the room from a large window flanked by two armchairs upholstered in dark blue silk. Light wooden floors reflected the rays of the sun and if not for the clunky hospital bed and the thick white bandage wrapped around the elderly woman's head, one might have thought they'd interrupted her aunt having a nap in a well-appointed hotel room.

Upon seeing her relative, Emily gasped and whirled, pressing her head against his chest. Finn's heart responded to her touch, bursting to life. She nuzzled against him, easing into the familiar spot she'd occupied so many times that summer. The rightness of her settling against him overrode the shock of her movement. Her hands slid across his back. Without hesitation, he echoed her movements, encasing her small shaking frame with his long limbs.

"Em..." His fingers flexed against her back. ""She's okay. Or at least she must be better if she's not in the emergency room."

Her head swiveled against his breastbone and Finn curled himself around her, bending to tuck his nose in her hair.

In combat, Finn had withstood freezing temperatures, a broken arm and two gunshot wounds. The pain of those injuries was nothing to the agony of holding Emily in his arms again. He was half glee at the familiar sensation of her body crushed against his, her head resting over his heart, the soft scent of lavender hanging in the air.

He'd dreamt of holding her so often, but could never get the sensation to stay with him upon waking. If it had been on any other occasion, he would want to freeze this moment forever. Her touch a salve against the constant pain in his heart.

And this reason tore at the other half of him, where his heart broke at the desolation rocking Emily over the situation with her aunt. He rubbed her back, trying to provide solace, again his mind void of words of comfort. The tendrils of her unbound hair tickled and teased the bare skin of his forearms.

Slowly, Emily's shoulders ceased shaking, her hands shifting but not relinquishing their hold. "I hate hospitals." Her words reverberated against his chest.

"I get it. Last year I spent some time in a hospital in Germany." He didn't know why the words bubbled out. Not wanting to spill the horrors of those weeks, in and out of consciousness, he rested his chin on the crown of her head. He closed his eyes and the comatose image of Aunt E turned to the lifeless picture of Angela, Max kneeling beside her bed.

The guilt churned in his stomach and he tried to think what Emily would do if this situation were reversed. She'd make a smart remark, distract. "Despite the free vanilla pudding, I gave the place a three star rating."

His joke elicited a half-hearted chuckle and one of the tight strings wound around his heart loosened. He searched for another silly comment, but his mind refused to string words together, too overwhelmed by the lost sensations of being close to Emily.

They stood there, holding each other, breathing in unison. Finn relished the feeling of Emily burrowing into him, her hand clutching at his shirt. He'd gladly suffer any injury if Emily visited him in a hospital.

For years he'd searched for this. At first, he sought consolation in the arms of other women, but never even came close to this type of connection. With his crew, Finn achieved something strong. Not the sense of family he had always desired. However, it was a brotherhood, a bond, knowing someone else had your back.

But nothing ever managed to bring him this. The moment Emily wrapped her arms around his waist, and he finally held her again, Finn felt it.

Home.

Emily shifted, easing her grip on him, and Finn braced for the loss of her. What happened instead blew him away.

Her face tilted up, grey eyes searching for something. The world receded, the world expanded, the world disappeared. Finn couldn't tell. All he saw, all he felt, all he knew was Emily.

"Finn." Her hand tugged on his shirt, asking him to bend to her. As if he'd ever refuse her, he gladly acquiesced. His reward; her lips on his.

If this was a dream, it was the best he'd had in almost a decade. Emily's soft, sensuous mouth made every cell in his body spring to life, breathing oxygen and sunlight into parts of his soul he'd kept locked in a box. The sensation reached deep down inside. Dug into the spot where he'd barricaded his heart all those years ago, beating on those walls with jackhammers. The fortifications cracked.

Afraid to break the spell, he held back, accepting her gift, not asking for more.

Emily demanded more. The material of his shirt stretched, pulling him closer.

Eagerly, delightedly, Finn answered her plea, kissing her back without restraint.

His heart should be pounding, his hands shaking. Instead, Finn felt a rush of warmth roll over him as his heart beat in time with Emily's. Lips, hands, hearts—they were in this together. They were together. Emily and Finn, Finn and Emily. Two bodies, one soul.

Exactly how it was meant to be.

He dug his fingers into her hair, desperate to keep her with him, the greatest sense of certainty washing over him as Emily succumbed to his request. She angled her head back, and he deepened the kiss, giving him increased access to her. He lavished in the luxury of touching her, his fingers tingled, finding familiar curves calling to him. He'd never let go of her again.

Until a sharp voice sliced through the room and burst their bubble. The last voice he wanted to hear, the voice belonging to the woman who always tore him apart from Emily. "What are you doing?"