A/N: Well now this is awkward! Hey guys! I wanna first apologize to anyone I may have kept waiting. Ultimately, I have found inspiration with many other projects, and this one has been hard to write. Not just because the finale ruined it, but because I have a huge case of writer's block. Which is where you can help. I have a good general idea of how I want to move the plot forward, and I know how this will all end. But subplots are something that I can use more of. If anyone has an idea of a subplot or something that I can use, and I like it, not only will I use it, I will credit you for it. Please review/PM me for any ideas, or if you just want to tell me what you think of it. I appreciate any and all feedback for my stories, and would love to see many more for this one. Now that we got that done, here comes the big thing: this is Ollie's last chapter. I hope to keep this last chapter going for a while, but after I finish it, I don't intend on writing any more HIMYM content. But it is far from the truth if you think I will abandon writing altogether. I have many new projects on my mind, including an OC Hunger Games fanfic which I will not look towards releasing until October/November. Also, this is just to make up for the last month or so that I owe to you, the reader: I have released the first three chapters all at the same time! This one I have given the Pulp Fiction treatment, meaning it will be very non-linear, but hopefully still easy to follow. This also shows the return of two characters from the show that only appeared once, as well as another character in chapter 3. Enjoy the first chapter of the finale of Ollie's Story

Chapter 1: First Round

"To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield"

Ulysses.

Kids, your Uncle Ollie was someone who saw the world in a way unlike most. He firmly believed that life was both something that was planned out with us meant to go on a certain path, and at other times something completely unknown. He taught me that as he returned from his trip across the continent. He never looked back after that. Moved forward with swift determination into what life had to offer him. And just as we found our big moments in 2013, he too would finally have his chance to shine.

Day 38: Port Angeles, WA

My trip through the country had driven me so far, I was now in Port Angeles. After stopping in Seattle, I turned around, and towards my home. From there I planned on heading to Victoria, Tofino, and then to the big Van City.

My parents were shocked at both how I showed up on their doorstep one day, and the sight of me. My beard was quite big already, and I was really looking like someone who spent almost a month on the road. I wore the tie-dye shirt I got in San Fransisco, and my old green hoodie hung off my backpack like a flag along with the other items.

"What have you been doing this past month, Ollie?!" Said Dad the evening I arrived.

I showed him some of the stuff I had gathered on that trip. He was amazed at what I had with me, but was shocked with the Baggie in my glove compartment.

"Son?" He said. "Is that what I think it is?"

I replied by holding a finger to my mouth. "It's a sandwich, Dad. Some guys in San Fran gave it to me along with the shirt."

"You aren't planning on taking this into Canada, are you?" He said.

"God, no." I replied. "I know the risks. I'm finishing it before I leave."

Dad agreed, as long as I didn't eat it in the house.

Then he saw the souvenir from Texas. He picked it up, examining it.

"I've seen this kind of six shooter before." He said. "These are standard issue for Texas Rangers." He looked at me with surprise. "Did you steal this from them?"

"No. It was a gift from one who I helped a few weeks ago."

"What happened?"

I looked down. "Nothing. Nothing you need to know."

I stayed home for a good two nights before deciding I needed to keep moving on.

"What's the plan from here on out?" Said Mom as I was packing up the truck. They gave me a few boxes of my stuff they wanted to be rid of.

"Head to Vancouver Island, Victoria, Tofino, then head to Whistler, see the mountains, and down to Vancouver. I'll head east from there on."

"You make me proud, Oliver. I have no doubt you have found, or will find whatever it is you're looking for" She said. "You think that the One for you is out there?"

I smiled, and took my mom by the shoulders. "I know she is, Mom. And I will find her."

"Ollie! Before you head off, I thought you'd want this." Said Dad.

He held up something I last saw a year ago: a silver arrowhead on a chain. That was Lucy's last birthday present from me.

"We found it at her grave when we visited after you and Juno went home. I know you left it with her, but Lucy would've wanted you to have it."

I took it, and put it on my neck. I had felt Lucy sitting in the truck's shotgun seat this whole trip. Now I knew she was with me with her necklace.

"Thanks, Pops." I climbed into the truck, and started the engine. "The next time I come home, it'll be with my future wife." I said.

"And when that day comes, we'll welcome her with open arms, Ollie." Said Dad.

With that I drove off. It was a long road this summer, but the road was nowhere near from ending.

I was on the ferry as dusk was rolling in. Heading across the border was a breeze, now that I had eaten that sandwich.

I looked out at the sun setting as I sat down on the deck on the ferry. I held the arrowhead in my hand as I kept thinking how things might have been different if Lucy was still around. Maybe I wouldn't be on this road, or on it all the same.

"Ollie!"

"Hm?" I looked up from the bar. The arrowhead lay down on the table beside my shaker.

"What's that?" Said Tracy. She pointed at the arrowhead.

I had been back from my trip for almost two weeks, and still all that had happened to me was lingering. It was clear not all of what I saw would be forgotten, and some of it had changed me. Just like my tattoos, I'd have those memories for the remainder of my life.

"This," I held the arrowhead up. "was the last thing I ever gave Lucy."

"So that's the pendant?" She said. She examined it carefully as I handed it to her, entranced by how shiny it was. Tracy was at times perfectly applicable to Barney's Fish Theory. She was indeed attracted to shiny objects. There was a lot I knew about Tracy, and a lot I didn't know. Now I felt it was time to find out one answer I wanted for so long.

"I get to ask a question that's been bugging me for years now, McConnell." I said. "Where the hell are you from? I've asked so many times this question, and you've answered with so many different places."

Tracy smiled. "You're right. I'm from Denver, Colorado in real life. Coldest winters in the west, and right in the heart of the Rockies."

I grinned. "Go Broncos."

Carl then walked up to me from behind the bar. "Alright, lovebirds. I need to borrow Ollie for a minute. Staff meeting starting up."

Tracy shrugged. "He's not the one I love like that. But whatever. I'll talk to you later, Ollie."

"Later, Juno." I said, as we headed into the back room.

Carl was someone who I had worked under for nearly three years. I was always one of his most loyal and dependable staff members, and as a result, he had given me a position as assistant bartending manager. He was one who surprised me when I admitted to him I was leaving for the summer.

"Is that a fact?" He said as I told him. It was the week before I planned to leave. He folded his arms, his rag in his hand. He looked like he might whip me over the head with it. "What am I to do for bartending while you're gone? Who's gonna take your place for the time being?"

I quivered. Maybe it wasn't such a good idea if it meant my job.

Then Carl grinned. "Easy, Blake. I'm just messing with you! You go have fun!"

I raised an eyebrow. "You sure?"

"Absolutely." He replied. "You've spent most of your vacation times here at the bar. I think you've earned it. How long?"

"A month or so at the most. Maybe two."

"Jesus, Ollie. This must be some expedition you're going on. Anywhere in particular?"

I shook my head. "Wherever the wind blows, Carl."

"You go and you have fun." He said.

"Is there anything I can bring back?" I asked.

Carl laughed. "Depends. Are you going to Miami?"

I shrugged. "I might."

"If you do, find Diego Batista. That guy owns a Cuban bar called the Chinchilla's Ear, and he owes me the secret recipe of his Cuban Margs. Get it from him."

"I'm on it." I said.

I found Diego eventually when I came to Miami. But I had to earn what he owed Carl, or he wouldn't give it to me. And boy, did I earn it.

Carl gathered everyone around in the back room, and began.

"First off, I don't know if you have seen, but Ollie has returned from his vacation!"

There were a few whoops as I waved a bit. Carl smiled.

"That bastard beat Diego Batista to the drinking games in his bar while he was gone! Now we have a new menu item because of him. But that is not why we are here tonight."

Then Carl took a quick second to breathe. "Believe it or not, I am not the first in my family to enter the bartending business. My granddad started his own from the ground up, and began one of DC's most successful chain of bars. But I needed everyone here to break the news. Late into July, he passed away."

"Shit, Carl! That sucks." Said Tommy, one of the busboys.

"He was an old geezer." Said Carl. "But here's where it gets interesting. His will leaves me the bars."

"Like two or three of them?" Said Freya, a waitress.

"Try all ten of them. I'm gonna be a fucking millionaire when I take the bars!"

The staff clapped and hollered. I was starting to see where this was going.

"But I can't just up and leave this bar as well. I've had this for over a decade, and it's still running strong."

"So what is the deal for it, Carl?" Said Doug.

Doug Martin. I hated that guy. He became an easy frenemy in the bar. I was one to use my fists during bar fights and where it was most needed. Doug used them whenever he wanted. But we had some form of respect for each other, despite our differences.

"Well, the first instinct was to sell the bar. But I realize I don't need the money for it, plus a lot of you guys would get fired as a result. I don't want that, and neither do you."

I wasn't positive, but I think Carl looked over at me when he said that.

"So I have come to only one possible solution. I will be testing potential candidates to inherit the bar, and whoever I think is good enough on my current staff to do so, will become the new owner. I have to move to DC by the end of next April to start running my gramps' bars, so I have until then to pick the next owner. I'll be expecting your candidacy submissions by the end of September."

There it was again. I swore that I saw Carl glance at me for a brief moment when he said that last sentence.

He finished up. "Anyone else who submits beyond that date can forget it. Now get out there and sell drinks."

We all started clearing out. Some of the more enthusiastic workers immediately jumped up to mob Carl of their wishes to run the bar as a new owner. I didn't bother, as I walked back out onto the main floor.

"Why not, Ollie? This is what you've been waiting for most of your life! What's stopping you?" Said a voice.

I didn't know how to respond. Maybe it was just that there were so many other people who deserved it more than me.

As my shift ended, I headed down to the subway. I had put it off for weeks. Now was time for me to get my new ink.

I had a system. After I became estranged from my family, I started a tradition: every time something life changing/ important moment happened in my life, I would get a new tattoo to symbolize that. So far I had five tattoos.

I started off with one that symbolized my first near death experience: a silhouette of a bear made up of one thin line on my right upper arm. When I was 15, I spent several days in the wild tracking down a bear that was terrorizing the locals. I found it, but it turned out it was on the receiving end of an abusive relationship with another bear nearly twice it's size. I somehow ended the life of the father of it's family, and then that made the mother leave my town alone. I still have the scars from that face off with the bear: three long slashes on my right forearm.

The second was Lucy's name and death date, which I got when I returned to New York in 2003. Lucy was the one I could call the closest in my family. I missed her with all my heart after she passed away of brain cancer.

The third I got right afterwards on the same day: an arrow right over my wound where I got shot. I first got it to remind myself never to go back to my family. But now it became a new symbol: always keep moving on, like how the arrow keeps moving until it hits it's target.

The fourth was a symbol that was on my keychain: a raindrop on my ankle. I got it to coincide with my new bartending license. My teacher, David gave these collapsible shot glass keychains to people who graduated his program. I was to give the keychain to whoever I would see as a potential student for David, just as Carl did for me. In fact, that was how I met Carl.

My fifth one was one that had the longest gap in between my additions. After I reconnected with my family, I found myself noticing how I had grown in character. I was no longer the twenty-one year old from Port Angeles, yet he was still a part of me. Now I was also a proud New Yorker, and a bartender as I wanted to be. I almost stuck to the traditional blue ink for this one, but Juno (she was known by that back then for me) told me to get it in white ink. Now I have a big white tattoo of a tree with long branches I the left side of my back, while sort of reaching to my left side as well.

Now, with my long, life changing journey done, it meant a new tattoo. I walked right into the old studio as I opened the door.

"He's back!" Cried Vic, one of the artists at the studio. He was one who had more ink than seemed really necessary. Both of his arms showed no bare skin. It was as if he was always wearing long sleeves, even though like most in the studio, he wore a leather vest.

"Hey, Vic." I replied. "Is Steve in?"

"Always Steve, right?" He said. "Don't worry. He's in back just finishing up with another customer. Head right in."

This wasn't one of the places someone like me would normally want to be seen in, but these guys were both good at what they did, and were actually friendly. As long as you didn't get on their bad side.

Steve was sitting down for this job, dragging the needle through his customer's shoulder. He looked up briefly when I walked in, and smiled. He was bald and had this creepy mustache.

"And the bartender comes back." He says.

"I always come back, Steve." I replied. "That's how stuff works for me."

The customer looked up at me, and laughed. "Yet from what I see here, Ollie, you barely have enough ink to really belong here. You're just a wimpy nerd like everyone else at that bar that you run."

I scowled. "Learn to fuck off and mind your own business, Amy." I replied.

Amy shook her head, and looked up at Steve. "We done, Steve?"

"Almost...there." He replied. He took a cloth, and rubbed off the excess ink. "Talk to Vic when you're ready to pay."

Amy got up, and Steve gesturing for me to to get into the chair.

"What happened now?"

"I traveled the continent." I said. "Saw most of the country, and a bit of Canada. I need something to say what I found emotionally, and I want something new."

"What're you thinking?" He asked.

"Ever read Ulysses?"

"No."

"There's a part of it that stood out to me."

"A written tattoo? That *is* new for you."

"It goes as follows. Hopefully it's short enough to fit on my arm: 'That which we are, we are. Made weak by time and fate, but strong in will. To seek, to strive, to find, and not to yield.'"

Steve nodded. "You got it. That'll definitely fit."

Day 23: Blue John Canyon, UT

Colorado and Utah are weird states. One place is scorching hot like a match, and the other is colder than Siberia in some places. So it was really weird how when I found myself quite literally in the middle of nowhere in Canyonland, USA, the night was spent with me freezing my ass off trying to find my truck.

If you saw 127 Hours, then you already know why I was in Blue John Canyon: I wanted to see the place where it all happened for myself. For those who don't know, Aron Ralston was what made this place so famous. His story of survival touched many across our country. Including me. He became trapped in the canyon for five days after a boulder pinned his hand against the canyon wall, before he cut his arm right off. I wasn't positive when I came to the accident site, but I think I actually stood right on the boulder itself. Even managed to chip off a few grains of it for a souvenir.

Night came, and I had made it out of the canyon. Only the stars to light my way back to my truck. It was moments like this that I barely had anymore ever since I moved to New York. There was a moment when I was hunting down the Devil Bear that I just lay down in the brush to enjoy the peaceful sounds of nature. The chirps of birds and all.

Now the dark and dusty desert left no sounds at all. Which made it almost all the more menacing. Rattlesnakes could be lurking about. Worst part of the desert, I think, is hearing the screech of an albatross flying overhead in the desert during high noon. Texas keeps haunting me.

I opened my phone, and looked at the compass app. There was a good chance that the direction I was facing was headed right for the truck. If I didn't find it by sunrise, I could use the light to find my way back in the morning.

But I saw I didn't need to. A shivering light in the distance saw me headed for it like a moth. When I got close enough, I found it was a campfire. With someone tending it.

"Howdy." Said the camper when she saw me. Looked to be in her mid twenties. Hispanic, but spoke with an American accent. "You lost, buddy?" She gestured to a spot across the fire for me to sit on.

"Yeah. My truck is parked somewhere near and I don't know where."

"The blue Chevy?"

"That's the one." I said.

"Not even a thirty second walk that way." She pointed with a flashlight in that direction. There was my truck, ready to head off when I wanted to.

"What's your name, buddy?" She said.

"Ollie. Yours, ma'am?"

"Steph. So what are you doing in the middle of the Canyonlands at this time of night, Ollie?"

"Got lost in Blue John. I wanted to go there because of-"

"Ralston. Yeah, I know what you mean. I frequent these canyons, so they ask me for directions to the site. But I'm guessing you found your way there?"

"Yeah. Getting out is the real problem."

"Amen to that. Where you from, Ollie? Denver? Salt Lake?"

"New York. But I'm originally from Washington state."

"Damn. You're a long way from home. What brings you out here this far?"

"I'm not sure. Self discovery, maybe?"

Steph smiled. "I know the feeling. You're not the first to do something like this, and you won't be the last. How long have you been gone for?"

"A little over three weeks. Haven't really had the comforts of home in a while."

Steph laughed a bit. "I can tell. No offense, but you clearly look like a guy who's lived in his truck for the last weeks."

"Yeah, I've gotten that a lot. Those guys in Albuquerque said pretty much the same thing."

"God, you've been around. Is there a reason why you're doing all this?" Steph opened her cooler, and got a beer out. "You want one?"

I took one from her as I started. "It's a long story why I've been doing this. I believe in that philosophy that everything happens for a reason. Fate, if you will. Fate spoke to me once when I was a kid. Told me to do 'as she asked'. Then I could 'do as I wished'. So I spent my life in New York finding my purpose to what fate wanted me to do. Two months ago my purpose was fulfilled. Now I'm doing as I wish. I just never thought I could do it since I'm in my early thirties. I should really get settling down instead of this shit."

"'Tho' much is taken, much abides; and tho'

We are not now that strength which in old days

Moved earth and heaven, that which we are, we are;

One equal temper of heroic hearts,

Made weak by time and fate, but strong in will

To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield.'"

I knew what she was quoting as soon as she said the last line. "Ulysses." I said.

Steph took a drink of beer. "You know it. That's my philosophy. You want a real light to shine your way through I life? Read it, and it'll guide you."

"Right now all I'm thinking about is where to go next."

"You're headed west, aren't you? Don't stop there. Head south to LA. You should find what you need there. I know I did. I met my fiancé there."

"Engaged?"

Steph smiled proudly. She held out the hand with the rock on it. "Seven months. Love the guy to bits."

I heard the howl of a coyote in the distance, and I jumped. Ever since Texas, any noise would be enough to make me jump. I looked out into the dark. I could see nothing much further past the campfire, and the stars in the sky. The moon was out too, but only a crescent of it.

"Easy, Ollie. You're okay." Said Steph. "Have you been keeping track of where you've gone?"

I looked back at her. "Yeah. The map's in my pack."

"Can I see it?"

I opened my bag, and handed it to her. She unfolded it, and looked down at all the places I visited. "Ho-lee shit you have been places. Miami, huh? Damn, you got New Orleans, DC, Philly. So are you, like taking a lap around the country? Looks to me you're going in a big circle if you plan on returning to New York anytime soon."

I put the map back in my bag as Steph handed it back to me. "Sounds fair enough. Head to LA, and start north from there."

"Although you gotta hit Vegas before then."

"No shit." I murmured. "It'd be my first time. Hell, this whole trip has been full of firsts."

I checked my watch. 1:54 AM. I needed to get some rest if I was hitting the road again tomorrow.

I stood up. "Thank you."

Steph smiled. "Enjoy your trip, Ollie. Not a lot of people get the adventure you're clearly having."

"And we are done, Ollie." Said Steve. He wiped off the excess ink with his cloth, and I looked down at my arm. The last lines from Ulysses were out there for me to read anytime. Now it would serve as the light to guide me for the rest of my life, and I knew it would bring me what I had coming for me in life. And that included her: The "One".