Aidan pressed her cheek to the floor. The sweat pouring from her made it feel like it was a hundred degrees and the tile was cool, giving her the tiniest bit of relief. She couldn't hear her own rapid breaths over the sound of her heart pounding in her ears—a pounding that was making her head hurt. She could feel the throbbing of each pulse in her temples and her throat and the sensation made it hard to breathe.

Her arm felt like lead when she tried to reach up for a towel to wipe her face. The little motion sent the room spinning again and forced her to squeeze her eyes shut. Her back was still stiff and painful from the chair shots from Reed Richards. She shivered, but she was far from cold. It was the uncontrollable feeling of panic strangling every nerve that had her shaking. Shaking and hiding in the bathroom to try to avoid the embarrassment of an anxiety attack in front of Liam.

But that was stupid.

Because he always knew.

She missed the sound of the door opening because of the hammering in her head. She couldn't find the words to protest when he slipped his hands beneath her and deadlifted her off of the floor. Right up into his arms, he made it seem effortless, tucking her head against his shoulder with one hand while the other wrapped her leg around his waist to support some of the weight.

“What's wrong, álainn?”

Aidan shook her head. Her lips couldn't remember how to form words at the moment. She didn't want to anyway.

Liam laid back on the bed, pulling her with him so she rested on his chest. Both thick arms held her tight against him. It was the safest place in the world, but right now it was too warm and a little embarrassing. It was only the second time she'd ever had an anxiety attack in front of him.

The first time was the day he met her father, the day she realized her father hadn't had any real part in her expulsion from the family. It was the day she learned that the old man had always known about her now-deceased secret high school boyfriend and that Scott was gay. Maybe she just needed to avoid these big days. Maybe she needed to call her dad soon too.

He rubbed one big hand up and down her back, mercifully not mentioning or questioning her about the shaking and sweating and gasping for breath. How one person had the calm and patience to endure her unending quirks and bullshit she would never understand. And she'd been stupid enough to let him go once. It was as clear in her mind as if it had been yesterday.

As they stood outside the door to the hotel room, she finally paused. It took a few deep breaths to combat the oncoming anxiety. For once in her life, she needed to do something face-to-face. She owed him that, she really did. She carefully pulled her hand from the pocket of her jeans, withdrawing the treasure that had been waiting within. With her free hand, she took one of Liam's, turning his palm upward so she could lay his grandmother's necklace on it.

“I'm sorry, Liam, I am. But... I don't think I love you. I care about you, and I always will. I don't want you out of my life, but I am not capable of giving you what you give me. I'm not the person you think I am, the one you try to help me be. I'm not the person you deserve.”

She braced herself as he leaned in, she didn't know what to expect. He ran his fingers through her hair and kissed her unbruised cheek softly. She couldn't stop the tear that slipped out. And then he hugged her carefully before he turned and left her there without a word.

The door swung shut gently behind her, but it might as well have been a thunderclap. She leaned back against it as the weight of the world hit her shoulders. The ground rose up to meet her, and she put her head on her knees and cried.

How much misery had followed? She didn't even know what he had done in that time. She had ever asked. Because... she was selfish, and afraid of the answer.

“Why are you still here, Liam? Honestly, after everything...”

The sound he made was unexpected. He laughed. And when he chided her he squeezed her even more tightly.

“Don't ask stupid questions, Aidan. This is a conversation we've had.”

Scott's boyfriend Peter's words from months ago came drifting back to her. He was right from start to finish and all she could do was listen while he told her everything she couldn't figure out for herself. Peter, her know-it-all Fairy Godmother.

“Because he's broken in his own way. Like I am, like Kate is. We're fixers because there is something missing in us too. There are beautiful people buried under what your parents dumped on you, and we are driven to dig you out of the ruins...

“...You're not mad at Liam because he did anything wrong, you're mad because he matters to you...

“...You are afraid that you are losing the battle of not letting your life turn into the one you ran away from, and you don't want his life to become that life. It's sweet, it's beautiful, and it's because he means something to you...

“...But you hate that fear...

“...Liam doesn't forgive you just for the sake of forgiving you or because he has some magical endless well of patience. He forgives you because he understands why you do what you do... …we love it, because every brief moment we get where you guys forget your defenses is worth all of the ones we have to deal with them being up.”

Goddamn Gaysian and his always being right. Why wasn't he here now? She squeezed Liam's shoulders and managed a kiss to the side of his overly scruffy neck.

“What's got you all twisted up, baby?”

Baby.

It was still so strange to hear from him. She'd been the one to let it slip first, but she wasn't sure she had said it since. Not that it seemed to bother him in the least. He called her whatever he wanted now without hesitation. It was kind of nice, she supposed.

Rather than answering his question, she fumbled on the nightstand until her hand found her phone. She handed it to him and went back to laying there like a mess while he looked it over. She felt him look down at her after reading it, she could picture the confused look on his face.

“Kate had her baby? Why's that bother you?”

He always knew everything else, why couldn't he just know this so she didn't have to explain?

“They named her Emmy...”

“After you, I know. It's what your brothers used to call you.”

“Liam, I'm an aunt...”

“...Are ye worried that makes ye old? You're not old, Aidan.”

“No, it's not that. It's just... in a few years she'll be old enough to understand things and... I'll still be doing this...”

Her chest tightened a little more, making it harder yet to breathe.

“What if she watches me? What if she wants to do what I do or to be like me? No one should want to be like me.”

He had to struggle not to laugh, she could tell.

“You're worrying about things that may or may not happen three or four years from now regarding a child that isn't yours.”

“But she's my niece... Do I have a responsibility to... I don't know... be better?”

“That's up to you, babe. There are already a lot of little girls out there watching you and probably wanting to be like you. It hasn't bothered ye until now. I've got nieces and nephews too. I seem to remember ye used to like a few of 'em, back when ye didn't hate children..”

“I don't hate children...”

“Ye used to love them.”

She caught his wrist with both hands as his hand tried to slide down her side, never letting it make it to her belly. She knew what he was trying to hint at and that was not a conversation she was going to have right now. Or maybe ever.

“Don't.”

He let her go when she sat up, but she couldn't make it much further because the room tilted. She tried to stand for just a moment, and then gave up. Some things just weren't worth the internal struggle.

“It's new, I know, and you can't help worrying about it. But it's not yours to worry about. You're trying to solve the world's problems again, and you're making up problems to solve.”

“It's not just new. ...It's big. There are going to be expectations that come with it, whether you think so or not... and...”

“And you're afraid of letting people you care about down.”

“I guess.”

“Well, I don't know how your brothers feel about it, Aidan, but here's the thing...”

He stood up and picked her up again.

“When people care about ye back, you can't let them down as long as ye try. Now, come on. Why don't we take a shower and see if that helps?”

For a moment, just a moment, she wanted to squirm free. She wanted to tell him she was fine and he didn't need to treat her like a child. But there was Peter's voice in her head again.

“...You have to let your boyfriend fix you. He doesn't need you to be perfect, in fact he needs you to not be... ...Don't stop being you, don't change, he needs you as you are... ...let him be the one that picks up the pieces.”

“...Alright... ...Liam?”

“What?”

“Don't let go, okay?”

“Of the most beautiful woman in the world? Wouldn't dream of it.”

Almost like he had to prove the point, he held onto her with one arm while he turned the shower on and made sure the water was comfortably hot.

“...Will you laugh at me if I ask you something?”

“That depends on what ye ask me, but I'll try not to.”

“...What if I don't know what love is?”

He looked down at her for a few moments, waiting until she looked up and met his eyes for as long as she could stand. A slow smile crept across his face and he ran his wet fingers through her hair, careful of the staples still in her scalp. The look made her blush.

“That's the best question ye have ever asked me, álainn. Tell me what you think love is.”

She blushed a bit hotter as he put her on the spot. Even though she knew it wouldn't stop him from looking at her, she tucked her head against his neck.

“...I feel like... When I watch you when you don't know I'm watching, and you smile, and it makes my chest hurt... that's love.”

“Not a bad start. Keep going.”

“...When I wake up in the morning and you're not next to me, that little moment of disappointment that I don't get to run my hands over you and kiss you until you wake up... that's love, I think.”

Liam smirked for a moment before setting her down on the counter so he could pull her shirt off. He had been half way through getting dressed and she only now realized that in his jeans and without a shirt... he was the only thing she ever wanted to look at.

“Taking pictures of the bleeding wound on your girl's head while she's unconscious because ye know she'll want to see it? That's love.”

“Is it love when I sleep on your side of the bed when you're gone because it smells like you?”

She unbuckled his belt expertly and then went for the button. She could see his struggle not to smile. She felt her own struggle not to look when his pants hit the floor.

“Getting two straws every time ye grab a drink because your girl doesn't share. That's love.”

“...I feel like it's love when I'm mad at you and I can't decide whether I want to slap the shit out of you or rip your clothes off.”

He lifted her up just enough to get her pants past her hips. She heard him snicker when she gave a little squeak at the cold counter top making contact with her bare skin.

“When there's suddenly no other woman in the world but your mum and the one in your arms? That's love.”

“If the urge to punch someone in the throat when they talk shit about you or take a swing at you is love...Then I'm pretty sure I love you.”

After tilting her head up, he just looked at her for a few moments. Then he kissed her softly, slowly. When she was out of breath he finally let up and rested his forehead against hers.

“Love is complicated. Love is messy. Love is incredibly painful and the way you feel it and the way I feel it and the way other people feel it is all entirely different. It's the hardest thing in the world, Aidan... second to me.”

For a moment the weight of the last few moments hung in the air, then she burst into giggles.

“Well, there goes the moment. Good job.”

“I learned it from you.”

With that smirk that she enjoyed so much, he picked her back up from the counter and stepped into the shower.

“And Aidan... Ye know exactly what love is.”