This contains spoilers for The Devil Made Me Do It, so turn back now if you haven't seen it yet-this fic will be here when you do :) For those who have, thanks for reading!

For days afterward, Lorraine flinched when he touched her. Not always—just when he came up behind her or if his touch corresponded with a loud noise—but enough for him hate himself.

It wasn't your fault, she'd whispered over and over as he cried in her arms that night. You came back to me. It's okay.

The night after their confrontation with the witch, he woke to the sound of her muffled cries, but when he rolled over to comfort her, the same panic from the night before shone in her eyes. It vanished almost as soon as it appeared, but Ed knew what had woken her. How could he comfort her when he featured in her nightmares? In the end, she comforted him, carding her fingers through his hair as he sobbed his apologies into her chest.

The next morning, when Ed first noticed Lorraine shy away from his touch, he tried to goad her true feelings out of her, but she insisted, as she would for days, that she was fine, that he just startled her or that she was still recovering from the toll Arne Johnson's case had taken on her. He only pressed her once or twice, before realizing that if she wanted to talk about it, she would. After what he did, she had every right to shut him out. She'd shut him out before, and eventually, she confided in him.

But if it had taken her years to talk about a vision, God knows how long it would take for her to talk about this fresh wound, rooted deep in her reality, in their love, which they thought too sacred to be manipulated.

Not knowing what else to do, he showered her with affection—kissed her awake in the mornings, brought her tea in bed before she had the chance to get it herself, left her love notes around the house, took his pills routinely. She returned every kiss, halfheartedly admonished him for spoiling her, wrote her own note on the back of each one he left her, and smiled as he downed his pills and vitamins with glass of orange juice. And for a few days at a time, everything would be normal and easy between them.

Then he'd do something stupid like curse when he was frustrated with himself for not being able to lift something heavy, or slide his hands around her waist out of habit while she cooked at the stove. As he watched her cower and avoid his gaze, he would leave the room or back away, accepting that he would have to start over.

About three weeks after the incident, Lorraine woke Ed with open-mouthed kisses, first on his lips, then his neck, then his chest. Without opening his eyes, he reached for her, finding bare shoulder blades where her nightgown should have been.

"Morning, handsome." Lorraine rested her chin on her hands, folded over his chest. "How do you feel this morning?"

Ed slid his hands up her back and into her hair, massaging her scalp gently. "I feel fantastic."

Humming noncommittally, Lorraine arched an eyebrow at him. "We should do something special."

"You got anything in mind?"

Lorraine shrugged. "We could…drink caffeinated tea this morning."

Ed chuckled. "Scandalous, Mrs. Warren." But he stopped laughing when she sat up, her fingers fiddling with the top button of his pajama top. "Any other ideas?" When she leaned down, he expected to kiss her, but she dodged his lips, opting to nibble on shell of his ear.

"We could have breakfast in bed."

Instead of answering her, Ed flipped them, expecting the familiar giggle he'd been missing, but when he looked down at her, the terror in her eyes sent him reeling. He scrambled off of her, but she reached for his hand. "No, Ed, I'm sorry—"

"Don't apologize. Please." Ed rubbed a hand over his face and ignored Lorraine's pleas for him to look at her. He didn't dare look at her, afraid of what he'd see. "Are we ever going to talk about this?"

"There's nothing to talk about. It's not you—"

"It is me, Lorraine." He struggled to keep his voice low and even. "You're having nightmares about me, for God's sake."

When Lorraine finally spoke, the smallness of her voice broke his heart. "I know you didn't know what you were doing when you came after me. I know that. But I never thought anything could take you away from me like that."

Ed couldn't speak for the lump in his throat, so he simply laid his open palm on the bed between them. For one agonizing moment, he felt nothing—not her movement, not her skin against his, not a shift in her breath. But in the next second, instead of taking his hand, Lorraine crawled into his lap and cradled his face in her hands. This close, he struggled to avoid her gaze, but Ed didn't allow his eyes drift past her lips, pursed and trembling.

"Ed, look at me, please."

"I can't. Not if you're afraid of me."

"I'm not, honey. That's what I'm trying to tell you. Please look at me."

The desperation in her voice did nothing to separate Ed's thoughts from that night. Ed, stop! Ed, please remember me. For her, Ed drew a few ragged breaths before dragging his eyes up her face, finding her eyes brimming with tears but also with the love he'd taken seeing for granted.

"I wasn't lying when I said that I'm still recovering," she said. "The connection is gone, but I still feel…echoes. Sometimes when I look at you, just for a second, I don't see you. I see what that witch made you, into someone who could hurt me. And it's hard for me to reconcile the man I've loved for thirty years with what happened that night."

Ed's tears rolled over her hands. "I'm sorry—"

"No, honey, please stop blaming yourself."

"I almost killed you." Ed tried to lift her off of his lap, but she only tightened her legs around him. "You are the most precious part of my life, and I let someone convince me that you had to die. How can I possibly not blame myself?"

"Because you were being used," Lorraine whispered. "That wasn't you. You are kind and gentle and protective and loving. You're the man who wore a birthday hat made for a ten-year-old just to make our daughter smile. You're my best friend. You're the love of my life." Her voice broke on the last word, and she pressed her forehead against his, hoping to ground him with her touch if not her words. "It'll just take a little time for these echoes to fade, and they are fading, Ed." With one hand, she reached for the hand he'd extended to her before and pulled it to her face for a kiss. "I want to make new memories with you."

Ed leaned in, intending a peck on the lips and a cuddle, but Lorraine caught his bottom lip in her mouth and raked her hands through his hair. When she pressed her chest against his and sighed into his mouth, he knew she wanted to pick up where they left off. His hands slid up her sides, stopped when his thumbs brushed the underside of her breasts. He tore his lips from hers so that he could kiss his way down her neck to her chest. Before he got too distracted by the delicious, familiar sights and sounds he'd missed, he pulled back and willed his hands to still where they rested at her hips.

He couldn't resist kissing the crease above Lorraine's nose as she furrowed her brow at him.

"I love you," he whispered.

After all Lorraine's teasing as she woke him earlier, his expression of love made her blush. "I love you." She pushed gently on his chest, and Ed leaned back against the pillows, relishing the view even after thirty years. "And I've missed you." She leaned forward, her lips just shy of his, and snaked her hands up above his head to wrap around the headboard. "And I'm going to show you how much."

This time, Ed blushed.

With Lorraine on top, Ed could focus more on her, on the sounds she made when he filled her and the expression on her face when he surprised her by sitting up and changing the angle, making it just right for her. When her panting became irregular whimpers and gasps and her eyes squeezed shut, Ed pressed his forehead against hers and whispered his only request thus far. "Open your eyes."

Lorraine's eyes fluttered open and clung to him like the rest of her, and for the first time in weeks, there was no trepidation, no fear, only implicit trust and adoration born from thirty years of love, and they drowned together in the depths of it.