A/N: I'm going to try jumping back in forth in time so that we know what happened before Vincent found Olivia again. Please let me know if it gets confusing at all. I'll try to mark it clearly when time jumps. Thanks again everyone for reading and reviewing and I hope you guys enjoy this chapter!

One year prior

Olivia would have thought he'd gotten up hours ago. But when she felt the soft kiss behind her ear, she could feel the solidity of his presence. This wasn't like those mornings she woke up to a cold bed, the dreams lingering in the back of her mind. This was real, his fingertips trailing down her side and slipping underneath her shirt.

"I thought you were supposed to be awake by now," his voice, low and tired, didn't startle her but she took the opportunity to press closer to him, feeling herself sink deeper into a warmth she would never physically be able to remove herself from.

"Is that why you're here? My personal alarm clock?" She shivered through the last sentence, his fingers gently brushing over her chest, tracing the seams of her bra. Why was she so over dressed for bed? Vaguely, the edge of her subconscious reminded her that she must have fallen asleep in her clothes from the night before. How absolutely careless of her to not be completely ready and waiting for him. After all, he only came around so often.

"I just know how...neurotic you get about timing," he cupped her chin, turning her head towards him to kiss the corner of her mouth. She sighed softly, shifting so that she was lying on her back. Time could wait. Everything could wait at this point. Olivia closed her eyes, feeling him settle on top of her, pressure between her legs, his lips soft on her neck.

She was positively sure that this wasn't a dream. There was no way. He was real, he was here. Everything before this had been a dream, some sort of twisted reality she was putting up with -

Her thoughts ceased when he lightly ran his tongue over the hollow of her neck. Involuntarily, she pushed her hips against him, wanting to sacrifice all the time in the world for this moment to continue as long as possible.

"Vin," she had just uttered his name, breathed it past her lips when, a minute later, she was sitting up in bed, gasping for air to the sound of the foghorn that was her alarm clock. And he was gone.

Olivia didn't know why she deluded herself. She would always know it was a dream, she would always know he wouldn't come back. Assuming he wasn't dead, at least. The thought sent her spiraling and quickly she pushed it out of her mind, focusing instead on jumping out of bed, and turning of the offending noise. She stretched tall, and reminded herself that yes, of course he was alive. Because, most importantly, she didn't have any proof to the contrary. When one of the most integral officers in one of the biggest drug takedowns in history didn't get a proper funeral service, she could safely assume he was still kicking around somewhere.

Not that she knew where "somewhere" was.

Sighing at her completely predictable morning thoughts, she padded over to the kitchen to make herself some coffee. It had taken her a while but she had finally mastered the fancy device and honestly, she almost preferred her one hundred year old machine to this thing. But it had been Vincent's, and really she found little room to argue with that logic.

It had all been his. She took a deep look around the apartment, remembering as she did every morning, the shock. He'd left her his apartment? If she knew, then maybe she wouldn't have doubted him for so long. In fact, if she had known, maybe she wouldn't have been such a panicked mess the entire time he'd known her. Now, it was bittersweet. While she loved being here, being part of him, sometimes she wanted nothing more than to leave it and never look back.

Kate and Maria had come to think it was supremely unhealthy of her to stay wrapped up in his memory. And maybe they were right, on some level.

While the coffee brewed, she moved on to the shower. In a few hours she would have to meet with Maria and Kate in order to look at bridesmaid's dresses. Olivia shuddered at the thought of how much time had passed. It was March, nearly 3 months since...everything. She should have been studying, panicking for the bar exam. Instead she was becoming a recluse, her only connection to the outside world her computer, on which she refused to do anything but read the news once in awhile. She didn't care about school anymore, she didn't care about law or about the pressure everyone else in the world wanted to put on her. She cared about being alive. And staying that way.

After showering, she quickly glanced at her reflection. The marks and scars from her ordeal had faded. The cuts on her face and hands all gone but a few stray marks. She no longer had any pain in her shoulder or hip and the bandages around her ribs had come off remarkably easy. All in all she was one lucky girl. Too bad she rarely felt that way.

Once she was dressed and caffeinated, once she'd lingered, dissected, analyzed, and committed to memory every detail of her dream, she grabbed her keys from the kitchen counter pausing for a second, knowing her next action would determine just how crazy she really was. Quickly deciding she didn't care, she glanced at the refrigerator where she'd tacked the simple note he'd left her along with a set of keys.

"I'm preempting this with the warning that if you stay a slob, the landlord will kick you out."

She had yet to see or hear from any landlord.

"The blue one was nice."

"Depressing."

"Okay, well the green one -"

"Vomit."

"Since when is vomit green?" Kate protested and Olivia couldn't help but giggle. Listening to them bicker was something she'd sadly taken for granted for too long. She leaned back in her chair and watched them with an amused expression.

"Sometimes," Maria shrugged, "anyway, it's my wedding. When you get married you can have vomit green dresses." Even Kate couldn't deny the comedic delivery and soon the three of them were laughing wholeheartedly.

"The gold one's weren't that bad," Olivia said eventually.

"Hmm yeah, I guess," Maria turned back to her salad, "I don't know. I'm going to check out the place down on First."

"Maria, come on!" Kate said exasperated. Olivia couldn't help but share the sentiment. "This is getting ridiculous. The wedding is less than 3 months away! You know you have to have these dresses ordered soon so we can get them tailored." Maria had been dragging them around store to store for weeks trying to find the "perfect" bridesmaids dresses.

"Well excuse me if I want everything to be perfect," and on cue, as their meetings usually seemed to end nowadays, Maria threw down her napkin and proceeded to storm off.

"Really, Kate? Every time?" Olivia scolded her friend before running to catch up to Maria. "Mare, wait up, seriously." She caught her friend hailing for a cab on the sidewalk.

"It's fine Liv, whatever," she muttered as a taxi pulled to stop in front of her.

"No Maria it's not-."

"I'll call you later, okay?" Maria attempted to give her a small smile from inside the car before it sped off. Sometimes it seemed though being normal was as stressful as waiting around for a bomb to explode.

"Forget her," Kate waved her hand once Olivia returned to the table. "I've got a better idea." A minute later, Olivia found herself in a cake shop, tiers of beautiful cakes and cupcakes looking as fragile as glass. "Check out the competition," Kate whispered, nudging her.

"Can I help you?" A young man, maybe a little older than them, stepped out from some back room wiping his hands on his apron.

"Yes actually, I'm getting married and we were just here to look at some of the options you guys have." Kate smiled sweetly and the guy was putty in her hands. Olivia tuned out while Kate chatted him up, asking inane questions she already knew the answers to, and instead wandered the rows of white frosted wedding cakes. She stopped at a particularly beautiful three-tier cake, covered in intricate flowers.

"They're edible," the baker had caught up to her and she blinked quickly startled.

"I thought maybe you did them by hand," she said turning slightly to face him. He laughed.

"No way. I'm good but I'm not that good," he smiled. She noticed the small dimple on the left side of his mouth.

"She's that good," Kate offered, joining them. "I'm serious," she responded to Olivia's embarrassed expression and his confused one. "She bakes. And she's really good at it."

"Really?" His look was less skeptical and more interested. Olivia felt uncomfortable and shuffled a little.

"Yeah really," Kate answered for her as if it was the stupidest question ever, "she's making the wedding cake for our best friend. It's going to be absolutely amazing." He was thoughtful for a minute before speaking.

"You know, we're actually looking for some part time help here," he added after the shocked look on her face, "if you're interested."

"No," she said quickly, moving away, "I'm not interested." And quickly she stepped away, avoiding Kate's glare.

"What she means is that not right now, but if you have a card or something, we can give you a call later," now Olivia glared at Kate and contemplated storming off a la Maria. Her friend really was too much.

"I don't have any cards unfortunately but I don't plan on leaving this location any time soon so feel free to stop by," Olivia was uncomfortable with his hospitality and refused to look at him.

"Great," Kate said enthusiastically, "can we get some samples now?" The girl did not waste any time.

Olivia could only breathe again when she was back in the apartment. It wasn't that she wanted to shut out the world. It wasn't that she wanted to live in the memory of someone she loved. It was that there was no peace in a world where she couldn't see every corner, every inch. Once she'd quickly made a sweep of the entire living area, she was perfectly content to her safety and whatever happiness she could squeeze out of her life.

She called her mother, assured her that she was alive still despite the fact that they had talked only two hours ago. Olivia didn't blame her anymore though. Wyatt aside, she was a walking death sentence. She'd come to relish the care the mother had for her. Not enough to move home but enough to tolerate her incessant need to keep in touch.

Olivia had just settled down to watch the next film in Vin's impressively extensive movie collection when there was a knock at the door.

She froze, all of her limbs taunt and flexed. Olivia had waited. She'd waited three long months for someone to find her here. She'd refused to tell anyone, Kate, Maria, and her mother included, where she was. And despite the fact that maybe both her mother and Kate knew where she was, she hadn't offered them any type of reminder. It was for their safety. But now, with the random knock at the door, she could only hope against hope that it was one of them. Just in case, as a fist pounded against the door once again, she grabbed the gun she kept safely concealed in her purse. She'd learned more than once it was better to be safe than sorry. Keeping the firearm at her side, a little bit behind her so it was hidden, she took a deep breath and tiptoed over to the door.

It was the only thing different from when she had first come to apartment. Instead of the elevator opening up to the apartment as it once had, there was now a door, cutting the foyer in half but keeping one extra bit of material between her and whoever had just found her.

She was just raising herself up to look through the peephole when she heard a familiar voice.

"Olivia! It's me. Open the door" She nearly shot a hole in the floor in her own surprise, her heart beating with relieved adrenaline. Finally. Someone with some answers.

Opening the door she flung herself into the arms of Officer Joe without a moment's hesitation.

Present

They were driving west. Why were they driving west? One minute they had sped through Florida and the next they were in Louisiana. She was beginning to lose consciousness. Sometime between state lines she heard him mumble that it was because she hadn't been eating. It was hard to eat when food didn't matter anymore. But he didn't seem to understand that.

The last thing she remembered before the fever really hit her was the worried look the owner of the motel gave her as Vincent carried her up to their room. She was sure he looked rather suspect carrying a half-coherent female up to a seedy motel room.

Two days later, when she woke up without heat in her eyes, she remembered him sitting by her side the entire time. Her stomach turned at both the thought of how horrible she was and how horrible she would have to stay. He couldn't fix it. He couldn't fix anything anymore.

"How long was I out?" She asked, finding her throat raw and rugged.

"Two days," she was surprised he sounded as terrible as she did. Olivia took in his appearance. Despite his effervescent t-shirt and jeans style combination he did look tired, exhausted even. She felt another pang of guilt in her stomach.

"You should have left without me," she forced herself to look away, attempting feebly to get out of bed. He glared at her. She ignored it and stretched her arms over her head as if to demonstrate she was perfectly fine. In reality, she felt like collapsing back onto the bed, her muscles protesting with every movement. "So where to now?" She looked around the room for her things, anything to avoid his gaze.

"Texas," she blinked at his direct response, whipping her head dangerously fast to look at him. Did he just tell her the truth? For a moment she was speechless, swaying a little on her feet.

"What's in Texas?" She asked dryly, reaching for the wall to steady herself. She was so surprised still that she didn't even notice him move closer, put a hand on her shoulder to keep her vertical.

"Joe. Joe's in Texas." His serious demeanor answered her next obvious question.

The last time she'd seen Joe, in the apartment Vin had given her, he had been perfectly fine. She wasn't so sure that was going to be the case this time.