I wish I could say 'Yay for epilogues!', but I don't think that would be appropriate considering the mood. Anyways, here's to jack2724 and reckless is a wreck! Thanks for being my outside motivation! Enjoy.

Disclaimer: We all know it by now.

Epilogue: Tragedian

I sigh as a warm breath of air tousles my thick hair. Small comfort, but it's enough. It reminds me that I'm still alive.

So does the mound of earth sitting at my feet.

For a while, I do nothing but relish the warmth of life all around me. The grass sways with the breezes, mimicking my hair's movements, and it brings a sorrowing smile to my face. I figured that you would like to be buried out in the country. That way you don't have to be surrounded by all those damn memories of death, blood, and hopelessness. All those wasted years.

It's been three months, kid. Three months since those bastards shot the life from you. I'm still bitter at the city. I blame it and its poison for bleeding the humanity from that gang. And for driving you to the brink of madness.

It was madness, wasn't it? Why else would you have gone to them, knowing that there was no way you could come out alive? Or maybe you held onto some slim hope that your life would have been spared. But that doesn't sound like you. You had some uncanny knack for knowing what was to come, so you had to have gone to your death willingly.

Madness either way I look at it.

I thought I knew you, kid, but guess I didn't. You were so erratic. Never predictable, always keeping me on my toes, always stimulating my mind. That's probably why I liked you. But now, more so than ever, I want to hate you for what you did. You really did leave me with a whole mess of confusion.

But for me to hate you, that means I would have to hate myself. Because you did it for me.

At least, I think you did. That's what those damn penny loafers are for, right?

I sigh again, running a hand through my hair. Christ, Tony, it really looks like I had no idea who the hell you were or are. Bet you're getting a kick out of that down there. Though, from what I think I know of you, you probably managed to pull some strings to get you up there. Wouldn't surprise me.

My toe scuffs the ground as I raise my eyes heavenward. Haven't we seen this same scene somewhere before? When you died? The sky wasn't as beautiful then as it is now. Hope the stars find you tonight. I won't be sticking around to await their magical appearance.

Not like you should expect as much. There's nothing left for me in this wretched hellhole. Alfred's long gone. Doubt I'll ever see him again. I'm sure that if I did, I would have to break his jaw again before he could whip out his gun. Yep, I'm bitter at him, too. Maybe that will change when I finally get the poison out of my system.

I want to move on, kid.

Jarvis and Pepper found me a few days after your death. Turns out they had been worried about you for a long time and figured that you were responsible for getting the old factory running again. But they thought you were doing well. You didn't need them around to interfere with your plans. But then when I burned the factory down, they decided that they couldn't stay away without hearing at least a little bit of news. I could only offer them your corpse.

Do you regret it yet? Do my words bite at you the same way your lousy memory bites at me? Good. You deserve to feel some of our pain.

I smile bitterly as I shake more poison from my veins. I know that's not fair, kid. You felt enough pain for one lifetime. I don't want to wish anymore on you; I only wish that you had thought a little harder on your actions.

I'm not angry at you. Really, I'm not.

I'm just so tired of living this life. What is it even worth anymore? Maybe if you were here you could find some words to give me the strength to remain, but you aren't. Pitiful, isn't it?

The city has gone mad in the absence of the most powerful gang. Now the others fight to be at the top. It's disgusting how savagely they work each day to gain control of the city and its damned souls. Don't they know that it's temporary at best?

All the streets have been washed in blood. Blood like yours.

Somewhere within me, a stirring of pity for those that curse me arises. What fools we all have been. What a fool you have been, Tony.

"'Cause don't you know, kid?" I ask, voicing my thoughts for the first time. "Life's a fucking tragedy. And we all just actors. So here's to your final curtain call, you lucky bastard." I raise my hand in mock toast and salute, and maybe I feel some spirits working within me so that I finally see the reason. Maybe I see reality once for all that it is. And maybe I don't.

Smirking, I bend down to place a bag of coins onto the mound. For old times' sake. We sure had a lot of those, though I doubt I'll remember them. Like I said, life's a tragedy. Memories come and go just like people, and I have no control over it. Not that I want any.

Kid, your father may have built this city, but you sure as hell destroyed it. If only you could see it now. Everyday another war ends and another begins. More lives lost, increasing the grief. The city's got a ledger now, crimson and gory. And that's what we will be remembered by. How tragic.

Jarvis and Pepper have already left the city. I got them out a week before all this violence fully came to head. Thought you might appreciate that. They're waiting for me in another city quite a ways from here. We're going to try to find a life worth living. Hopefully we'll succeed.

You definitely picked a real girl when you chose Pepper, by the way. She's a true spitfire, so maybe we won't have so much trouble. But you will when her time comes. Ha, I would pay good money to see that. Temperamental Tony whipped by the Fearsome Pepper. Would be quite the match.

Now stop sulking, Tony. You know that you need a good challenge every now and then. I'll make sure to take care of her so that you will eventually get it. Promise.

I hope that promise is enough for you because I've said and done all that I can to make my peace. Time for me to be moving on. See you around, kid. And thanks for giving me the opportunity to get the hell out of here.

I end my silent monologue with his grave as I grasp the penny loafers firmly in my hand. They're the only things I will keep. Tony should feel special.

In the distance gunshots ring out, just like the ones that killed my friend. Bang. Bang. Bang. I do nothing to stop the sounds from invading my senses, and they flood me with a whole new mess of emotions and memories. But I don't look back.

And…now I'm done! Huh, I'm going to miss writing this story. Maybe I'll come back to it in a few years and fix the errors that I'm sure exist. Until then…well….who knows? As a side note, I would recommend listening to History by Funeral for a Friend while reading this. I think it fits.