Fic: Haven - An End to Troubles - Teen

[tanaquific]

Title: An End to Troubles
Fandom: Haven
Rating: Teen
Contains: canon-level violence
Words: 7165 words
Summary: At the end of Season 3, Audrey learns there are two ways she can end the Troubles—and each involves a sacrifice. Understanding her own heart is the key to her choice. (An AU written because I didn't like the way Season 3 was resolved in canon.)
Disclaimer: This story is a transformative work based on the Syfy/Entertainment One/Universal Networks International series Haven. It was written for entertainment only; the author does not profit from it.
Author's Note: Written for the fixitstory big bang. Thanks to susanmarier for the lovely artwork and Scribbler (scribblesinink) for the beta.



Byron Howard—it wasn't his real name, but he'd liked it well enough to keep it for a while—always felt a certain amount of regret when it was time for the barn to depart. He enjoyed seeing how the world changed in the years between his visits. Cellphones had been the revelation this time. On his previous visit, they'd been briefcase-sized. This trip, he'd had to make sure he put the palm-sized gadget away in the same pocket every time, otherwise he'd find himself spending five minutes patting down his coat trying to locate it whenever it rang or he needed to make a call.

Much else had changed, of course, as it always did. Like women's clothes: last time, he'd been startled by the ubiquity of jeans. Before that, there'd been the occasion when he'd discovered "horseless carriages" had gone from being a rare toy for the rich to being everywhere, by dint of nearly getting run down three times by the beasts within ten minutes.

That was why he was always given a few days in which to acclimatize. It also gave him time to figure out how and where to bring his charge into the world, selecting from among the different personalities he'd manipulated into place in the past. For the woman waiting in the barn, mere seconds would go by—and it was not as if she could remember anything that had happened before she woke wherever he placed her, anyway.

So, in as much as Howard had any feelings about his role, it was both some excitement at witnessing the way the world moved forward and a little sadness that he couldn't stay to enjoy it longer. And now it was time to move on again: as he peered down at Audrey, he could feel the barn shrugging around him, readying itself, waiting for her signal. "We really should go now," he pointed out gently.

"Wait." She looked up at him, a frown creasing her forehead. The barn paused, teetering on the brink of departing. She turned her head away, looking for the door. "I need to talk to my friends again."

Howard opened his mouth to remind her that, outside, the sky was falling, that time was at a premium, but she wasn't looking for his approval. She was already making for the door, wrenching it open and stepping back in to the world.

He followed, curious what she would say. Even Lucy, who'd fought long and hard to stay out of the barn, had come in the end to see that there were only two choices and had accepted one of them.

Outside, Nathan and Duke were waiting, a few feet from the barn doors. Vince and Dave were hovering a little further off. Howard could have done without their meddling over the years—though, in truth, as they were equally aware, it had never amounted to very much and never changed the outcome. That was why, after Lucy finally had gone into the barn, they and Garland had made a pact: when she returned as someone new, they'd play dumb. Letting Lucy know what they'd learned while Sarah had been in Haven had only led to more trouble in the end.

That giant of a man who'd helped Garland clean up the messes from various Troubles was standing next to them. Dwight, Howard recalled. Had some kind of Trouble of his own.

Audrey ignored the three of them, her attention fixed on Nathan and Duke. Duke stayed where he was, while Nathan hurried toward her, calling her name, although he stopped just short of her. There was something a little forbidding about Audrey now, as there always was when it came time to say goodbye to her friends.

"What did James say?" Nathan was examining her face intently for clues.

Audrey shrugged. "That killing him wouldn't work." Nathan made to speak but she held up her hand to stop him. "But he was right about some of it. There is another way to make the Troubles go away. Forever. Agent Howard confirmed it." She glanced over her shoulder at Howard, as if daring him to deny it now they were in the presence of witnesses.

For the first time, Howard began to feel a little uncertain about Audrey's intentions. His eyes were drawn for a moment to a streak of black smoke arcing across the sky, before he turned back to her. There was a distant thump and plume of dust as the meteor struck, but he ignored it.

"Forever? How?" That was Duke. He still hadn't moved from where he'd been standing when Audrey came out of the barn, but he was ready for action, head up, hand curled around his gun, muscles tensed for fight or flight. He flicked his gaze warily in Howard's direction before looking back at Audrey.

Howard had to admit Duke had surprised him. He'd expected Audrey to form bonds with Nathan—pushed for it even. First by choosing the only law enforcement agent on the list of adoptees as her new personality, so they would be thrown together, and then by giving Audrey that nudge to resign from the FBI and join Haven PD. But Duke? Duke Crocker should have been everything Special Agent Audrey Parker hated, while Special Agent Audrey Parker should have been everything Duke Crocker despised. He should have been spending his time trying to kill the Troubled, and maybe trying to kill Audrey as she tried to stop him, not running around helping her to save the Troubled and keep out of the barn.

Well, every life threw up a few surprises. It was one of the things that made living through this repeating game tolerable.

Audrey had turned her head away from Howard, looking at neither Nathan nor Duke but at a point somewhere on the ground between, as she answered. "By killing someone I love." Her tone was flat and very certain.

Ah! Howard understood her intention now, although he still doubted whether she'd be able to carry it out when it came to it. Going into the barn, leaving behind the people she cared about, was always hard. This was harder. That was the point. This wasn't the first time he'd told her there was another option, but she'd never made any attempt to take it before.

"What?" Nathan moved to grab her arms, but she took a step back, putting her hands up to hold him off. "Audrey, there has to be another way."

"There isn't." She let her hands fall. "I can go into the barn and the Troubles go away for twenty seven years. Or I can kill someone I love and the Troubles will go away forever." She lifted her head, meeting Nathan's gaze. "No more monsters like Harry Nix, ever. No more tragedies like Kyle Hopkins. No more people who have no idea of the harm they're doing. You'll be able to feel. Jordan will be able to touch people again. Dwight won't have to worry about bullets any more than the rest of us." She half turned her head toward Duke, though she didn't name him in her list. "Twenty seven years isn't good enough. Not for Audrey Parker. The Troubles need to be ended, once and for all."

An awkward silence fell, stretching out until, at last, Dave cleared his throat. "Audrey, you don't have to do this. We can find another way."

Audrey shook her head. "No, we can't." She pointed to the sky above, where another meteor trail was cutting across the otherwise clear blue sky. "We're out of time—and there are no other options."

She turned and looked again at Howard, her expression making it clear she'd accepted what he'd told her. She always did, once she got inside the barn; perhaps it was a part of its powers that even Howard didn't understand. And it had been the truth. He'd deceived her about a lot of things in their time together, but this wasn't one of them. Over the years, there'd been occasions he'd wished it was a lie, but he couldn't change this, any more than Audrey or Lucy or Sarah or any of the other personalities who'd come before could change it.

Audrey looked back down at her feet. "Lucy didn't get to make this choice. Someone killed James before she could. But I can make that choice now."

Duke cleared his throat. "You can live with that?" He sounded surprised, like he hadn't expected this of her. Like he was disappointed.

From his half-view of Audrey's face, Howard could see she was smiling ruefully. She shook her head. "No. That's the point. Going into the barn is the easy option for me. I can make sure you all get to live and make sure your Troubles go away for a few years. And yes, Audrey goes away too, Audrey dies, and you'll all grieve for a while—but I'm not going to remember her. I'm not going to suffer for very long. In another twenty seven years of your time, I'll come out as someone new, with a new set of memories—and then everyone'll get to do this little dance all over again, while more people get hurt. Perhaps even some of you."

She stopped, drawing in a deep breath. No one spoke, silence hanging heavily over the field while, in the distance, a siren wailed as a firetruck or an ambulance raced toward whatever chaos had been caused by the latest meteor strike. At last, Audrey looked up, seeking out Duke's gaze and holding it, crinkling her eyes in a strained smile. "That's not good enough," she told him. "What's going on here is, well, part of it is about love, like Howard told me, but part of it's about... sacrifice, I guess. About what it takes to end a Trouble permanently and what each of us is willing to do. Willing to take on to ourselves and willing to live with."

Duke snorted a quiet laugh, his expression softening as he looked at her. "Right." He hesitated and then, putting the safety back on his gun, shoved it into the back of his waistband.

Howard, as he'd watched over Audrey during her time in Haven, had also had a chance to observe Duke, and had seen that he had used his Trouble sparingly once it was activated, unlike his father and grandfather. He'd never quite understood why: why Duke was so reluctant to kill the Troubled. Now he thought he knew the answer: seemed Duke's sense of right and wrong wasn't quite where Howard had expected it to be. Where it was supposed to be, for a Crocker. The world had apparently moved on a lot in the last twenty seven years, never mind the last two hundred.

Nathan cleared his throat. "You're sure you want to do this?"

Audrey turned her head to look at him, nodding. "Yes."

Nathan pressed his lips together for a moment, his jaw set, clearly unhappy with her choice. Then he gave a slight nod of the head. "Okay, then." He spread his arms wide, offering himself up to her.

Audrey frowned, narrowing her eyes at him, before her expression cleared. "Not you," she said gently, very gently. Now it was Nathan's turn to looked puzzled as, pulling out her gun, she swiveled on her heel and brought it up to target Duke.

"Whoa!" Duke put his hands up, looking as surprised as Howard felt. "You're joking, right?"

Audrey shook her head, her face tight with misery. "No." She bit her lip, clearly struggling to speak. "I'm sorry, Duke. But it has to be you. If I'm going to the end the Troubles once and for all, then... it has to be you."

Duke stared at her silently, before he drew himself upright, both his surprise and his usual bravado slowly falling away until he was looking at her with his own longing and admiration naked on his face—and an air of wistfulness, perhaps, for what might have been. He gave her a small nod and lowered his hands, offering her a clear shot.

"Wait!" Nathan's voice broke into the quiet as Audrey shifted her grip on her gun, settling it more comfortably in her hands. "You're saying... you're saying you love him?" Nathan jabbed a hand in Duke's direction.

Audrey didn't take her eyes off Duke. "Yes." There was a quiet certainty to the word that made Duke smile for a moment, despite the gun still pointing steadily at his chest.

Howard had thought Audrey had already made it pretty clear she loved Duke. The more interesting questions, to his mind, were why and when it had happened. Audrey had appeared all this time to be set on a course that was inexorably taking her toward Nathan—although maybe she'd simply been drifting, drawn along by the current of Nathan's feelings and not her own.

And maybe the Teagues' meddling last time, with Lucy, and refusal to meddle this time, with Audrey, had made a difference after all. If Vince hadn't killed Simon Crocker the way he did—and if Simon hadn't chosen such a ridiculously convoluted way of handing over his legacy—Duke would surely have recognized Audrey for what she was from the moment she arrived in Haven. And hated her, the way a Crocker should. That wasn't even taking into account the issue of her being an officer of the law and him being a criminal. Which, Howard thought sourly, really should have been quite enough on its own.

Nathan stepped up next to Audrey, trying to catch her eye. "Is this...? Is this because I slept with Sarah?"

Audrey still didn't look at Nathan, though she began to shake her head, but the spell that had held Duke in place looking back at her was broken. He swung a quarter turn to face Nathan, his hands lifted to underscore his incredulity as he barked, "You did what?"

Nathan turned red, stuttering out an embarrassed, "Uh...."

Duke was shaking his head. "You were in 1955 for, what, ten hours?" He raised his hands higher, emphasizing his point. "Most of which you were with me."

"She was Audrey—."

Duke didn't let Nathan finish his protest. "No. She wasn't." He shifted his gaze back to Audrey. "She might have looked like Audrey, sounded like Audrey, even felt like Audrey—"

Yes, that was another thing Howard had been relying on: that Audrey's ability to solve—or, rather, be immune to—Nathan's particular Trouble would have created an extra attraction between them, drawn them more closely together.

"—but she wasn't Audrey," Duke finished up, sounding as if he couldn't quite believe Nathan had ever thought that.

Audrey heaved a sigh. Letting her gun drop, pointing it down and to one side of her, she turned toward Nathan. "No, this is not about you having sex with Sarah. That just... clarified a few things." She reached out and caught his hand and lifted it up. "This? This here? I think this is more important to you than anything else. This body that you can feel. But who's inside it? I don't think that matters to you as much as it should. As much as I need it to."

"Audrey, that's not true." Nathan stepped closer, twisting their hands so that he had hold of hers, trying to draw her toward him. His voice had taken on a pleading note that, oddly enough, made Howard more doubtful that he meant it. Made Howard reconsider, too, his own conviction that the physical connection between them would strengthen their love, not undermine it.

It seemed Audrey wasn't convinced, either. She shook her head. "Nathan, I care about you. I do. But I don't... love you. Not the way you want me to. I can't."

She sounded a little sad about that, yet she also spoke quite firmly, as if she wasn't going to change her mind any time soon. Giving Nathan's hand, joined with hers, a small shake, she added, "I don't like how this makes you behave sometimes. I've tried to ignore it, because I know how much I mean to you, and I've tried to love you back, but I can't. You don't have enough respect for me. For who I am and what I want."

Nathan's eyes narrowed. "And Duke does?" His tone was skeptical.

"Yeah." Audrey dipped her head, speaking with calm certainty. "Yeah, he does."

"Are you sure about that?" Nathan was outright glaring at her now, his hand tightening around hers, enough to make her wince. "I've known him a lot longer than you have…."

"I'm sure." Audrey turned her head to smile at Duke, who was standing quietly watching them, his mouth twisted into a bittersweet smile at her defense of him. "After Colorado... yes, I'm sure."

Howard frowned. What had happened in Colorado? She'd found out about James, of course—which was exactly what he'd expected. And though he'd had his ways of keeping tabs on her from time to time, through the occasional status report from Garland Wuornos and through his own connection to the barn, he hadn't probed more thoroughly into how she spent her days and nights. Maybe he should have done. Maybe then he would have understood more quickly what was going on between Audrey and this generation's Crocker and whether he needed to give her another nudge to keep her on track.

The Crocker in question was giving Audrey a wry grin, tilting his head a little. "Would it make any difference if I told you I kinda regret that?"

Audrey chuckled softly. "Not really. I kinda regret it, too." Another meteor streaked overhead and she tipped her head back to watch it. Pushing away from Nathan, pulling her hand out of his, though he was reluctant to let go, she said, "We're out of time." Glancing over her shoulder as she put her hand back on her gun, which was still pointed at the ground, she added, "Dwight, you should probably leave. I don't know what range your Trouble is...."

"Right." Dwight began to turn away, holding out his hands to shepherd Vince and Dave with him. "Come on, guys. You too. You don't want to see this."

Nathan was moving as well, stepping between Audrey and Duke, backing up toward Duke. "Audrey, I'm not going to let you do this." His tone had changed from surly to determined.

Behind Nathan, Duke tried to protest, but Nathan ignored him, spreading his arms protectively. "I saw what shooting Reverend Driscoll did to you," Nathan continued. "How much that messed you up. I'm not going to let that happen again."

Audrey rolled her eyes a little. Howard could almost see her thinking that apparently none of the last five minutes of conversation had gotten through to Nathan. But she managed to mostly keep the irritation out of her voice as, bringing her gun up and pointing it at him, she said, "Nathan, step out of the way."

Nathan didn't move. When it was evident he wasn't going to, Duke stepped sideways instead, moving away from the barn so that Audrey could see him again. She swung her gun in the same direction, tracking him, but Nathan followed, putting himself back in Audrey's line of fire. "We are not letting you do this," he repeated.

"Yes. Yes we are." Duke sounded quite calm.

Nathan half-twisted around so he could glare at him. "Are you crazy?"

"Maybe." Duke rolled a shoulder, before leaning sideways so he could look past Nathan and meet and hold Audrey's gaze over the gun, even as he went on addressing Nathan. "Listen. We're both of us trying to help the Troubled here. To help this town. How Audrey does that is her choice. Not yours, and not mine. And how I deal with her decision is my choice."

Nathan stared at him for a moment, before swinging back to Audrey. "Is this why you love him? Because he's willing to die for you?"

Audrey shook her head, not taking her eyes from Duke. "No. It's because he lets me be who I am. Because he helps me to be more than I am." She spoke so softly that Howard had to strain to catch the words, and he thought they were for Duke, not Nathan: there was a note of gratitude in them.

Whether they were intended for Nathan or not, he still seemed determined to disregard Audrey's wishes. He started forward. "I'm not—."

He didn't get to finish the sentence. A gunshot rang out and he staggered—but it wasn't Audrey who'd fired. Howard whipped his head around and saw a dark-haired woman emerge from around the corner of the barn, her gun still pointed at Nathan. "You're not going to stop her, Nathan."

"Jordan—." Nathan squinted down at his arm, where a bloodstain was spreading across his sleeve. The bullet must have winged him but, Howard supposed, he couldn't feel the pain of it. It certainly didn't seem to be slowing him down or discouraging him. He looked back up at the woman—Jordan—and said firmly, "I'm not letting this happen." He took a step back toward Duke, once more shielding him.

Audrey whispered, "Nathan, please—." but her words were drowned out as Jordan spoke again, her face set in hard, angry lines as she advanced on Nathan and Duke.

"Yes, you are." She fired another shot and Nathan staggered a second time, stumbling to his knees. Jordan had her gun still trained on him, her expression suggesting she was contemplating putting a bullet in his head. Instead, she swung her gun in Audrey's direction, sneering, "Do it."

Audrey gave Jordan a long, fierce stare, before turning her gaze back to Duke. She shifted her grip a little on her gun as she re-centered her aim on Duke's chest, swallowing hard. Howard saw her mouth something at Duke—I love you. I'm sorry, perhaps—and Duke nod. Again, Audrey hesitated for a second. Then she squeezed the trigger.

The crack of the gunshot split the air, even as Nathan, scrambling around on his knees, threw himself at Duke's legs. Duke cried out in pain as the two of them went down in a tangle.

"Damn it, Nathan!" Jordan strode across to them, glaring down at them for a moment before looking up at Audrey. "Finish it." She waved her gun to indicate Audrey should join her.

Audrey didn't move, standing frozen with her gun still held out in front of her, her knuckles white on the grip. Her eyes were wide and she was struggling to breathe, her chest heaving with quick, shallow gasps. She slowly twisted her head and looked at Jordan. "I... can't." She let her head drop forward and her arms fall limply, the gun pointed at the ground. It was as if someone had cut the strings on a puppet or the clockwork had run down on a wind-up toy.

"What?" Jordan's furious exclamation split the air. She marched toward Audrey, her hand raised to grab her arm and drag her toward Nathan and Duke. "Do it!"

Nathan was on his knees, his ear bent close to Duke's mouth to listen to his breathing while he pressed his hands to Duke's chest. He muttered something that sounded like, "Hang in there, buddy."

"I can't...." Audrey was shaking her head, her eyes closed, still gasping for air. Howard knew—the barn was telling him—that it had taken everything in her to fire that shot. Walking over and putting another bullet into Duke to finish him was beyond her now, as the enormity of what she'd done—and failed to do—began to sink in.

"Dammit, Audrey!" Jordan had hold of her, trying to haul her closer to Duke. "You have to end this."

Her grip on Audrey seemed to revive Audrey a little. She pulled away. "I can't," she insisted. She lifted a hand off from her gun and smudged away a tear sliding down her cheek, before she raised her head to look at Duke.

He was flat on his back, arms flung wide, Nathan's jacket bundled under his head. Nathan was tearing off his shirt as well, ignoring the gash on his arm where the first bullet had grazed him and the oozing wound where the second had bedded itself in his shoulder. Wadding the shirt into a square pad, he pressed it over the wound in Duke's chest.

Audrey twisted away from the two of them, meeting Jordan's angry glare. "I'll go in the barn." She licked her lips, her voice cracking. "Let me go, and I'll go in the barn. Finish it that way."

Jordan went on scowling at her, before she shoved her away. "Go on, then. Or I'll shoot Duke myself, and damn the consequences."

Audrey nodded, stumbling a few steps sideways toward the barn door, her eyes back on Duke. His lips and skin had taken on a blue tinge and Nathan was bent back over him, twisting his body awkwardly so he could listen to Duke's breathing again, one hand on Duke's face to turn it toward him, while he carried on putting pressure on the wound with his other hand. Howard wondered briefly why Nathan didn't check the pulse in Duke's neck with his fingers—and then remembered that Nathan's Trouble wouldn't allow for that.

Even as Audrey and Howard watched, Duke's body arched a little, as though straining against shackles on his wrists and ankles. His eyelids flew open to reveal silvered eyes: some of Nathan's blood must have gotten on him.

Vince and Dave were hurrying around the corner. "What happened?" Dave puffed. "We heard—."

"Call an ambulance." Nathan was still leaning over Duke, still pressing down on his wound.

"Oh, my." Vince half turned away and called over his shoulder, "Dwight? We need an ambulance."

A faint "I got you" drifted back from some distance away.

Audrey took another unsteady step crab-wise toward the barn, though she still had her gaze fixed on Duke. Howard put out a hand to stop her, watching closely as Duke drew in a deep gasp and then another, and his lips began to turn pink again. "Wait."

"But he's not dead." Audrey tried to step past Howard, but he gripped her arm.

"Just wait," he told her softly. He could feel a shifting of forces, a heaviness in the air like distant thunder, the barn resonating in a new way....

Overhead, another meteor whistled past. Audrey turned to watch its course. A moment later, there was a loud splash as the meteor found water rather than land and sent up a gout of spray in the middle of the bay. "It's not stopping," she hissed at Howard, wrenching herself away from him. She covered the final few feet to the barn and, reaching out, tugged at the door.

And tugged. And tugged again. But the door refused to budge. "What the—?" Audrey lifted her hands away from the door and stared at it in disbelief for a moment, before she once more grabbed the handle and threw her weight backward, as if the door was merely stuck, the wood warped.

Howard watched, smiling to himself. "I don't think it's going to open for you, Audrey."

"But—." Audrey half-turned toward him, still trying to drag on the door, her expression anguished.

Jordan let out a hiss. "Goddammit, Audrey, if you've screwed this whole thing up...." She turned her gun on Audrey.

"I'm trying!" Audrey kicked at the door, desperately struggling to force it open. "It... won't... move...."

Jordan was shaking her head, shifting her feet so she had a steady base to fire at Audrey. Howard put up his hand to prevent her, but before he could get the words out, Nathan spoke.

"I can feel...." His voice was filled with wonder.

Audrey stopped trying to pull on the door and slumped forward, leaning her forehead against the wood. Jordan went on scowling at Audrey for a second longer, before she turned to look down at Nathan.

"I can feel," Nathan repeated. He sounded even more surprised as he added, "And Duke's not dead."

The words hung in the air. Everything had fallen silent. The birds no longer twittered in the nearby trees—though, likely enough, that was simply because they'd been scared away by the recent gunshots. Yet the breeze, too, had dropped, no longer rustling the grass with its passing, and even the ever-present low murmur of the sea had hushed. The late afternoon light had taken on a golden hue, lending an illusion of warmth to everything it touched.

Finally, Audrey lifted her head. "What?" Her voice was scratchy and a few more tears had tracked themselves down her cheeks.

Turning round slowly, she fixed her gaze on Nathan. He had sat back on his heels, the fingers of his left hand now on Duke's neck, apparently able to find a pulse and feel it. Lifting his right hand up in front of his face, he looked at it for a second, before rubbing his thumb against his fingers. "My Trouble's gone. But Duke's not dead," he repeated, still with that note of wonder and disbelief.

In confirmation of Nathan's words, Duke hacked out a cough, his chest heaving and his wide-flung arms jerking as the spasm ran through him.

Nathan looked back down at Duke, his expression dazed, before slowly lowering his hand to the gash on his own arm. He flinched as he drew his fingers across the wound to smear them with blood, and winced again as he leaned forward and transferred the blood to Duke's cheek. It stayed there, glistening wetly. Nathan put his fingers back on Duke's neck, checking again for a pulse. He shook his head and said softly, a faint smile on his lips, "You're not dead."

Duke muttered something that might have been "Feel... like crap, though," before he coughed again

"The Troubles are over?" Audrey leaned back against the barn door, her hands behind her, palms pressed against the weathered wood. She sounded as dazed as Nathan looked.

Jordan lowered the gun she'd still had trained on Audrey. "One sure way to find out." Striding toward Vince and Dave, she grabbed Vince's wrist with her bare hand.

Vince's shoulders stiffened for a moment, and then he relaxed, smiling down at her. "Yes, Jordan. It's over." He took her hand between his own and squeezed it. "See? No more pain."

Jordan closed her eyes, tears rolling down her cheeks as she sucked in air. Vince reached down and gently took the gun from her other hand.

Dave cleared his throat. "Better hurry up that ambulance, then." He turned and scuttled around the barn toward where Dwight must still be waiting.

"I don't understand." Audrey was brushing her own tears from her cheeks with the back of her hand. "How can the Troubles be gone when Duke's not dead?"

Howard shrugged. "It was the intention that counted." When she went on frowning at him, he tried to explain. "You sincerely believed you'd be killing Duke when you fired that shot. That was all that mattered, in the end, not whether he lived or died. Just what was in your heart."

She looked like she was going to ask him another question, but he knew he was out of time: the barn would be leaving in a few seconds, and he would go with it. Stepping up to her, he took her by the shoulders and gently moved her aside. "Goodbye, Audrey." His hands lingered for a moment before he let go of her, a little surprised at how hard this was for him. He'd grown to like this woman in her many incarnations and a part of him was sorry he wouldn't see her again. Then the barn called to him, more urgently, and he did let go. Turning away and pulling open the door that she'd been unable to shift only moments earlier, he stepped inside the barn.

And then the barn was gone.

oOo

Audrey leaned forward in her chair, putting her hand on the edge of the hospital bed as the occupant's eyes fluttered open. "Hey," she said softly.

"Hey, yourself." As he turned his head to look at her, he winced. "Ow! I guess this is going to take some getting used to...."

"Uh-huh." Audrey grinned at him. "I take it you can still feel, then?"

"Yeah." Nathan sounded like it was a development he wasn't completely happy with. He shifted again, turning his head from side to side, a frown settling on his face. "Shouldn't you be with Duke?"

Audrey raised her eyebrows. "Should I?"

"Well, you know, you and him. You did say...." Nathan trailed off.

Audrey sighed. "You know, just because I happen to care about one guy doesn't mean I can't also care about a different guy who happens to be my friend as well." She reached out and lightly gripped Nathan's hand where it lay on top of the covers. Not that Nathan had understood that particular point back when Duke had been the friend and Nathan the guy she might or might not have been dating, so she didn't really expect him to understand it any better now—at least, not straight away. She just wanted to start making everything right between the three of them as soon as she could.

She had seen Duke, of course. He'd gone into surgery first, his injuries more serious and less stable than Nathan's, and she'd had a few minutes with him when he'd come out, still a little woozy from the anesthetic, while it was Nathan's turn to get stitched up.

Duke had given her a slightly dubious look when she'd finished greeting him. "You really meant what you you said back there?"

Audrey shrugged, picking at loose thread on the hospital blanket. "I must have. It wouldn't have worked otherwise, would it?" She looked up at Duke through her lashes. "I don't expect you to do anything about it...."

Duke snorted, rolling his eyes in the direction of the bandages covering his shoulder and chest. "Not as if I'll be able to for a while...."

Audrey's attention was back on the loose thread, her fingers worrying at it. "Yeah, but you don't have to, you know. I mean, I did try to kill you...."

Duke grinned. "Hate to break it to you, sweetheart, but you wouldn't be the first woman I was interested in tried to do that...."

Audrey hiccuped a laugh. "Right."

Duke awkwardly groped for her hand. "We've got time to figure it out, though," he pointed out. "No more deadlines…."

Audrey, feeling only partly reassured, stroked the back of his hand with her thumb. "I guess so."

It was certainly the case that the barn was gone, the Troubles were gone and she was still here. Maybe for forever or maybe just for another twenty seven years—though that was as long as many people had to make a life together.

Yet there was still so much she didn't know and so much she didn't understand. Howard, true to his nature or the rules of whatever bizarre game they'd been playing, had given only the sketchiest of answers. Though, to be fair, he hadn't had much time in the end. She was probably lucky he'd told her as much as he had. Yet she still felt like she was groping around in the dark and it bothered her. Duke might be willing to take his usual approach of following the Buddha—all good things come to those who wait—but she'd spent so much time worrying about the future, trying to figure out what was going on and what to do about it, that she couldn't stop now.

Seemed Nathan's mind was running in the same direction. He shifted his head on the pillow, grimacing briefly. "So what happened back there?"

Audrey sat back in her chair. "I don't know. Best guess? Howard said that when I was in the barn, I somehow kept the Troubles in check, but that I had to come out and recharge myself every twenty seven years. With love. So maybe I gave the barn enough love to end the Troubles permanently."

She reached into her pocket and pulled out her badge and began to absently flip it over and over in her hand while she tried to puzzle it out. She also had a feeling that the fact it was Duke she'd tried to kill factored into it somewhere—that she'd fallen in love with a Crocker when she and the Crockers had been on opposite sides ever since the Troubles started. That it mattered that she'd been willing to kill a Crocker not out of hate or fear or in self-defense, which was how it had gone down between her and Duke's father, and his grandfather and his great-grandfather, and on back through the generations, but out of love. Maybe she'd never made this choice before because she'd never fallen in love with the right person to make it work….

"But you didn't kill Duke…." Nathan was squinting up at the ceiling, as if that would give them the answer.

"Howard said that wasn't what mattered." At least he'd told her that much. "He said that all that mattered was that I meant to. That I really believed Duke was going to die when I shot him." Audrey went on flipping the badge, thinking about what Howard had said, in the barn and outside it, and about how she felt now.

"So the Troubles are gone for good?" Nathan didn't sound much like he believed it. "I mean, I know they're gone—" He raised his hand and waved it around. "—and you're not in the barn, but what's to say they won't come back?"

Audrey pressed her lips together for a moment, thinking. She'd had a little more time to consider things—to discover things—between leaving Duke after he fell asleep again and Nathan waking up. At last she said hesitantly, "Well, for one thing, I can remember who I was before. Remember things from when I was Lucy and Sarah...."

There were parts of being Sarah she didn't much want to remember right then—if ever. That had been awkward enough seeing it from the outside; she wasn't ready to learn what it felt like from the inside.

She hurried on with her explanation for Nathan. "Not clearly, but like in a dream. And if I ask myself specific questions, I can usually find the answer now. Like I know now that Lucy was the one who learned that song I played on the pianola at the ice rink, but it was Martha who'd learned to play in the first place, nearly a hundred years before that...."

"But you're still Audrey, right?" Nathan peered anxiously at her.

Audrey glanced down at the badge in her hand, at what she was doing, flipping it over and over while she thought. She smiled to herself. That was pure Audrey. She looked back up at Nathan, grinning now. "Yeah. I'm still Audrey."

She wondered if she'd ever find out who she'd been originally, or why the Troubles and the barn had existed, or why she'd been the one to live this strange series of lives. Asking those questions didn't get her any nearer the answers when she didn't know which of her past lives to ask.

"So what do we do now?"

Nathan's question dragged her from her thoughts. He was still frowning at her.

Audrey raised her eyebrows. "Now?"

Nathan waved a hand. "Now the Troubles are gone."

Audrey was still flipping the badge in her hand, thinking. "I guess there might be some... clean up to do? Stuff left over from past Troubles? Dwight and I can get a handle on that while you're laid up. You know, if you...." She shot him a quick glance. "If you still want me to go on working for Haven PD...."

Nathan gave her a startled look, as if the thought of her not staying in her job hadn't occurred to him. "You still remember all that FBI stuff the real Audrey knew, right?"

"Yeah." Audrey laughed. "Yeah, I do."

"Well, then, you're still hired." His mouth quirked ruefully. "Assuming I'm still hired." He hesitated for a moment, his gaze holding hers, "And after that?"

She shrugged again. "We figure out who we are. How we want to live our lives. Like everybody else." She turned her head toward the window as if looking outside, looking at the world that waited for them. "You could look up Jess, if you like. See if she wants to come back to Haven now the Troubles are gone. Or you could fight me for Duke...."

"I thought—." Nathan abruptly broke off from whatever he'd been about to say. Audrey could sense his confusion, even though she wasn't looking at him. After a moment, he said carefully, sounding uncertain, "Me fight you for... for Duke?"

Audrey suppressed a grin. "Well, you did seem awfully concerned about him not dying," she pointed out in an overly innocent tone. She looked back at him, enjoying the shock and outrage on his face. "You know, almost as much as you were bothered about me going away." She reached out and grasped Nathan's forearm, running her thumb over his tattoo. "Pretty odd way to behave for someone who got this done so you could be on the list of people who could kill him."

Nathan flinched a little. "Could still happen," he pointed out, sounding mutinous.

"Yeah, I supposed it could." Audrey let go of his arm with a sigh. She really shouldn't tease Nathan when he was this sick. "I should let you get some rest." She got to her feet, giving his hand a parting squeeze.

Walking away down the hallway, she wondered if Duke would die at the hands of a tattooed man. Because, way he'd told it, before they'd shooed her out of his hospital room so he could rest, Vanessa Stanley's vision had already come true: as he'd been gasping out what he'd thought were his final breaths, he'd seen a hand at the end of a tattooed arm coming toward his face. Nathan's hand; Nathan's arm. And the surgeon who'd patched Duke up—who knew all about the Troubles—had said it had been Nathan's blood and Duke's Trouble combining that had given Duke's body the boost it needed to clot his blood, seal his wounds and keep him alive long enough to make it to the OR.

Nathan had gotten that tattoo so he could be the one to kill Duke, but it looked like getting it had made him the one who could save Duke.

Maybe those two would never work out their differences—but if that wasn't Fate speaking, as much destined as her own role in ending the Troubles, then Audrey reckoned she didn't know the meaning of the word.