Jack fidgeted in his seat, picking distastefully at the dress he had been practically shoved into. Ms. Fisher, charming secretary though she was, insisted it was called a gown and was a traditional and necessary part of any graduation ceremony, but really, it was a spangly belt away from being full-blown women's wear. But at least it wasn't black; that wasn't a good color for him. It always washed any color out of his skin and made him appear corpse-like. Then again, prison orange wasn't exactly flattering either.

Why did they even need a ceremony, anyway? Jack was of the firm opinion that it would be just as effective to shove the diplomas through the school's pitching machine and have the recipients go long. Alas, he did not run things. So he was forced to sit through the presentation of several awards, two speeches, and a slide show that had a surprising number of photos of him – though he honestly couldn't remember ever seeing a camera at any of the pictured events –before Mr. de la Luna finally approached the podium and started reading out names.

Even that took three and a half lifetimes. Twenty-six names really shouldn't have taken more than thirteen solid minutes, but that old fiend Tradition reared its ugly head once more, morphing the kindly principal into a hellish monster who sought to bestow one final embarrassment on his charges by announcing full names to the gathered spectators.

"Easton Andrew Bunnell."

There was hesitant clapping at the mention of Easton's name, and though it soon grew in strength, Jack knew people were remembering how it had nearly been removed in blood. He grinned as his friend accepted his diploma, shook de la Luna's hand, and returned to his seat. This whole ordeal would go faster if people didn't insist on snapping a hundred pictures of each graduate. He returned to loathing the hideous orange garment as more names were read and applauded, waiting for his own.

"Jackson Overland Frost."

Like Easton's, Jack's applause was weak and strictly polite, though it didn't gain any potency. He might have made himself reasonably well-known at the school, but outside of that, few people knew who he was. He took the paper, shook the offered hand, and blinked stupidly as a camera flash blinded him, trying not to stumble on his way back to his chair.

He stared at the scroll, oblivious to the other names being called. He'd done it. If you had asked him a year ago, he'd have said it was impossible, but here was the proof. He'd graduated high school. A small flicker of pride ignited in his chest, surging as the girl he was seated next to tugged on his arm, pulling him up as the class stood as one, the last senior (poor Phil, he was always last) returning to his spot. Mr. de la Luna looked back at them proudly before leaning towards the microphone once more.

"Ladies and gentlemen. Proud parents and families. I present to you the graduating class of 2013. Congratulations to these fine young men and women. May they find much success as they move into the world as adults."

Jack's actions were mechanical as he moved his tassel to the other side of his cap, falling in line as they filed out of the gymnasium on a wave of applause. He'd really done it.

-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-

Easton took a deep breath as he emerged outside, glancing up at the twilit sky. Now that it was all over, he suddenly realized how much he would miss this place, even with the bad memories. The good ones easily outnumbered him. He let his gaze roam over his classmates, memorizing their faces, wondering when the next time he would see them all together would be. But then the families started to spill out onto the quad, beaming with pride and joy, and he realized that he didn't have that. There was no one waiting to wrap him in an embrace and say well done. Hanging his head, he turned to put some distance between himself and the crowd, not wanting to spoil anyone else's mood.

"Eas'on, Eas'on, Eas'on!"

The bubbly voice made him pause and look over his shoulder. Sure enough, a tousled blond mop came weaving through the crowd, racing toward him on stubby toddler legs. He smiled, crouching down so that he was at eye level when Sophie came crashing into him. "Hey, ya little ankle-biter. What're you doin' here?"

"Congratulations," she exclaimed, pushing a balloon into his face. The serious set of her face told him that she'd been practicing the large word and she smiled brightly when he thanked her, taking the gift and ruffling her already mussed hair. As she laughed, Jamie emerged from the crowd, holding out his own clumsily wrapped gift.

"For you," he muttered. "To say thanks. For hanging out with us, I mean. Most people kind of forgot how to treat us like normal kids."

Easton's heart swelled as he took the package, pulling both siblings into a hug. "Nah, mate. Thank you. You guys helped me remember what's important. I'm gonna miss you."

"Who said they were goin' anywhere, Kangaroo?"

Three heads turned at the sound of Jack's voice, but it was Jamie who spoke first. "Uncle Jack? I thought you were going to take us back west with you?"

"Guys, this is your home. Kinda mine now, too. I'm not going to make you leave it behind." Jack smiled, scooping Sophie up as she wiggled out of Easton's shock-slackened grip. "You okay over there, Kangaroo?"

Easton's jaw moved wordlessly for a moment; long enough for Jack to make some crack about getting oil for the Tinman. "You're their uncle?" he finally managed to sputter. "Wha-Why didn't ya say somethin'?"

Jack shrugged, hoisting Sophie to his shoulders. "You never asked. It's not exactly something you just drop in casual conversation."

"But some of the things I said-" He'd complained more than once about the mystery uncle of his two favorite children, always failing to notice how Jack would get quiet, change the subject, or disappear entirely. Now he felt stupid for not putting two and two together. "I'm sorry, mate."

Jack just grinned, spinning in circles while Sophie cackled with glee. "Don't sweat it, Easton. You couldn't have known."

Easton opened his mouth to retort, but was interrupted by a shout. Across the quad, Anna had climbed on top of Nick's shoulders, waving at them frantically. Sandy and Phil stood to either side of the Russian footstool.

"Easton! Jack! C'mon; bonfire!"

Jack nodded his head toward the group, letting his mischievous grin fade into a real smile. "Pretty cool family we've got, isn't it?"

-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-

A/N: Alright gang. This is going to be the final chapter. I'm sure there's probably a lot more I could include, but that would require a great deal of exposition, which, quite frankly, tends to be boring to read. So, unless there is great demand for an epilogue, I shall drop the final curtain. I hope you had as much fun (but not as much brain trauma) reading this as I did writing it, and thank you for sticking with me. Fun fact: this is the first multi-chapter story I've finished. Ever. Of any kind. Yay!