I know I said that the last chapter was the final one, but after I posted it a reviewer by the name of Amethyst -Guardian- Lycure brought something very important to my attention.

This story needed an epilogue.

With that I give you the final chapter of Into the Breach. For real this time.

Disclaimer: I don't own Ib or any of the characters

-3 months after the second gallery incident-

"Ib, wait up!"

Ib paused long enough for the walking heap of living supplies to close the gap that had been opening between them. Somewhere underneath it all, her sister was struggling to keep the whole thing from toppling over.

"You know." She said. "This would go a lot faster if you hadn't brought your entire room with you."

While she couldn't see Mary's face, the feeling of the blonde girl's scandalized look was unmistakable. "I only brought what I absolutely needed." She said, trying to defend herself.

Ib couldn't help but raise an eyebrow. "Mary, its one weekend at a cabin. Not a round-the-world tour."

"Yea and the woods are filthy!" She exclaimed. "There are bugs, and muck, and all kinds of nasty things."

Ib smiled despite herself. Ever since their experience in the Fabricated World Mary had been unusually subdued. It was nice to have her talking again, even if wasn't quite back to her old self yet.

The walk to the cabin took roughly thirty minutes. Every time Ib would get ahead she would have to wait for Mary to catch up, or in some cases go back for her when she took a wrong turn due to her limited field of view. None of this was helped by the seemingly random twists and turns that threatened to make them both hopelessly lost.

Even so, it would all be worth it in the end.

Ib had been planning this mini-vacation almost as soon as they had escaped.

.

"Who's this Ib? A friend of yours?" Her mother asked.

"Mom this is Garry, yea he's a… he's a good friend of mine. He just recently moved back from… from…"

"I was spending some time out of the country." Garry said, coming to her aid. "It's nice to meet you ma'am." He offered his hand.

"Oh, well, nice to meet you too." She replied shaking his hand, unsure of what to think of him.

.

Everything about those first few days still felt fuzzy. More than once, Ib had needed to question Mary to make sure that she hadn't forgotten what had happened in the gallery. Despite her memory issues, she was happier than she had been in a long time. Mary and Garry were both here, both back together with her.

And all too soon, they had to split up again.

Nine years away from the real world meant that Garry was out of a job. When an offer finally came through it took him several states over.

It wasn't fair.

They could still talk on the phone but it simply wasn't the same. That was when she got to planning a weekend away with just Mary and Garry.

Ib wouldn't let them drift apart.

Their parents had been less than thrilled to hear her plans. Their daughters? Renting a cabin? With a strange man they hardly knew? For two days? ALONE? Hell no.

It had taken a lot of convincing, both by Ib and by Garry himself. He was now apparently a grad student from the art institute who met Ib and Mary when they enrolled in their school art program. He had left for Europe with the intention of taking inspiration from the culture and art styles that he found there. He had never gotten behind the wheel of a car while intoxicated, never engaged in illicit behavior, never took drugs, or sold organs on the black market, or worked with terrorist organizations bent on total world domination, or any of the other hundreds of things Ib's parents had insisted on knowing.

Mary had been surprisingly quiet through the whole affair. She testified on Garry's behalf when questioned, but otherwise seemed to simply stay in the background. When Ib later found out why, it was all she could do to avoid being crushed by guilt at not noticing sooner.

Ib was jolted out of her memories as Mary ran into her, causing both of them to tumble to the ground with her supplies spilling everywhere. With a cry of dismay, Mary surveyed the damage to her gear.

"Need some help?" Both of the girls shot to their feet at the sound of the voice.

"Garry!" Ib shouted, strangling him in a hug. It took a bit of persuading for her to let go of him enough to let him breathe, but she eventually reigned herself in.

"Nice to see you too Ib." He said, gasping for air. "And you, Marry. You have no idea how good it is to see you two again."

Mary nodded silently, averting her eyes from his. Garry frowned at her strange reaction, but before he could ask what was wrong Ib cut in. "Hey! Would you mind helping us carry these things to the cabin? Mary might have gone a little overboard in the packing department, and we could use some help."

For a moment it looked like Garry intended to push the subject, but a severe look from Ib told him that now wasn't the time.

"Uh, yea. Sure." He said, somewhat unnerved by the sudden change. "It's not far from here. The walk should only take a few minutes. Trust me you'll love it here."

Ib did love it.

The cabin was located on a small hill that overlooked a wooded lake. The image looked like something you might find on a postcard for a luxury retreat. She was also thrilled to learn that it had indoor plumbing. If there was one thing she had been worried about, it was having to use an outhouse during the night.

The interior was no less impressive. Polished wood was the order of the day, and every wall and floor was adorned accordingly. The cabin was small enough to be welcoming, while still maintaining enough room to house a good sized group comfortably.

That wasn't all either.

"Hey Mary, come see the bedrooms!" Ib called, with a smile. She braced herself as her sister rounded the corner.

When asked later to describe the event, Garry would be unable to define it as anything other than the single most high-pitched squeal he had ever heard in his entire life.

"Bunk beds! They have bunk beds!"

Mary's face was the image of pure joy as she fawned over every detail of their wood furnished sleeping arrangements. "She's always wanted to have a bunk bed." Ib explained to a very shell-shocked Garry. "Ever since we were little."

"O-Ok." He replied, trying to get his ears to stop ringing. "Can you warn me the next time she gets something she's wanted since you were little? I think she may have blown out my eardrums."

Ib just laughed and gave him a playful shove. She had missed this.

"Come on." Garry said, recovering. "Why don't we pick out a room for you next? There are at least three others to choose from and I'm not too picky about where I end up."

"I don't think we need to worry about finding me a room." She replied. "There's no way Mary will let me get away with sleeping in a regular bed when there are bunk beds around. I'm going to end up in here whether I want to or not."

Garry placed a hand over his heart in a gesture of mock sympathy. "Ah, poor Ib. Held captive by the cruel mistress that followed you home. Don't worry I'll be sure to tell your story to those you care about."

Ib rolled her eyes and shoved him again, somewhat more forcefully this time. "Just because you came back from the dead doesn't mean you get to turn into a clown."

"Great." He said, chuckling to himself. "Now you got me thinking about undead clowns while we're isolated in a cabin. In the woods. Several miles from the nearest town."

She struggled to keep a straight face as she changed the subject. "Let's go, we still need to check out the rest of the house. Mary, you want to come with us?" The blonde gave a dismissive wave as she examined the bed, apparently trying to decide whether she preferred the top or the bottom bunk.

"Guess that's a no." Ib said, tugging on Garry's hand.

A short while later, the two of them catching up on recent events in the kitchen over some hot chocolate.

"And then she says she wants four hand painted copies! By the end of the week!" Garry said, throwing his hands in the air for emphasis. "This lady was crazy."

"What did you do?" Ib asked.

"Well, I had to rush the job a bit but I managed to get her all four of them." He replied. "She wasn't too happy about the quality but hey, you get what you ask for."

A small silence entered the room after he finished talking.

"What about you?" He asked after a time. "What have you two been up to while I was playing art slave to my new clients? Besides rewriting my life history for your parents I mean."

"To be honest things have been pretty dull." Ib replied. "After going through the gallery and fighting to stay alive, things like school just seem… unimportant. It's not like I'm going to drop out or anything, but I keep asking myself why should I be worried about this?"

"It might seem unimportant now but let me tell you, it won't when you're looking for work." Garry said. "I've even considered going back. It's surprising how much things can change after only a few years."

She nodded, thankful for the reassurance even if it was something she already knew.

For a few minutes they both sat quietly. Ib could feel a slight discomfort begin to build in the air. She knew what Garry was about to ask, and she dearly wished there was a way to stop him from doing it.

"So…" He began, trying to pose the question as innocently as possible. "How's Mary been?"

Fine. She's been just fine. Thanks for asking. Nothing to worry about.

"She's been a bit… quiet." Ib said, avoiding a direct answer in the hopes that he would get the message. He didn't.

"Did something happen while I was gone? She seemed troubled when I found the two of you."

No! Nothing happened. Mary would be fine. She just needed time. She would be fine. She had to be.

"Yes." She replied. "But it wasn't when you were gone. It was before that."

"Before that…" Garry repeated. Ib looked down, not wanting him to see how worried she really was.

"Ib." He said quietly. "What happened?"

She just shook her head. "It wasn't easy for me to get her to tell me what was wrong. When I did, she made me promise not to tell anyone. You would have to talk to her about it."

He sat in contemplation for a brief period.

"Is it about Gu… Geur… G…" Garry sighed in frustration as he racked his memory for the name. "Is it about the lost artist?" He asked.

The lost artist. Only Mary could remember his name entirely. Ib knew that he was the one who had created the Fabricated World, and that Garry had taken his place on the outside to escape. Even so, she couldn't remember anything else about him.

"No." Ib replied. "She knows that it was the only way to get you out. He wasn't alive on the outside anyway. At least, I think he wasn't." She wasn't sure about the exact details. Mary didn't want to talk about it very often, and Ib didn't have the nerve to push her.

"Was it something I did?" He asked.

She really wished he would stop. "No. It wasn't you." She reassured him. "Like I said, it's not something I can go around sharing."

"All right." He said, getting to his feet.

"W-Wait. Where are you going?" Ib asked in confusion.

Garry shrugged. "You said that I would have to talk to her if I wanted to know what it was so that's what I'm going to do. I can't help if I don't know what the problem is." Before he could take another step, her hand shot out and grabbed his arm.

"No!" Ib shouted. "We aren't going to do this now! This is supposed to be our time to enjoy ourselves and stick together! I'm not going to let you make her miserable by forcing her to talk about that."

"Make me talk about what?"

Both of them jumped slightly at the sound of Mary's voice. Her face held a guarded expression, with all of her earlier cheer gone.

"It's nothing." Ib quickly assured her. "We were just-"

"What Ib is trying to say, is that I had a question for you." Garry interrupted. Ib shot him a pleading glance, begging him not to open up recent wounds. Much to her dismay, he pushed on regardless. "I couldn't help but notice that something seemed off. I wanted to know what was wrong, and if there was anything I could do to help."

Ib wanted to hit Garry right then. His heart was in the right place, but he should have been able to tell that this wasn't something you could just demand to know about.

Tension slowly began to fill the room as the silence lengthened. Mary instinctively grasped her arm as her expression became more and more conflicted.

Ib went to her side and put a hand on her shoulder. "It's all right Mary. We're not going to force you to talk about it. Will we Garry?" She asked, with a warning tone in her voice.

Garry didn't answer. It was clear from the look on his face that he wanted to know exactly what was going on. Normally Ib wouldn't have held that against him, but right now the three of them were supposed to be making the most of their time together. Not hurting each other, no matter how good their intentions.

After a while, Mary let out a sigh with a look of dejected resignation on her face. "Ok." She said, taking a seat at the table.

"Mary, are you sure you want to do this?" Ib asked, concerned.

Mary shook her head. "No, but he should know. I already told you so I should be fine." Her words didn't sound convincing in the slightest.

The three of them sat around the table as she took a breath. Grimacing, Mary told Garry what was troubling her.

She recounted the story of her attempt to infiltrate Veil's territory and get Ib's rose back. Both of them flinched in sympathy when she got to her failed attack on the man himself. When she began explaining what happened when she regained consciousness, it looked for a moment like she would change her mind about sharing the experience.

After a few more breaths, Mary got herself back under control and continued. Garry could hardly believe what he heard next.

She told him about Veil's questioning and most disturbingly of all, his accusations. She knew that his words shouldn't have had such a serious effect, but they refused to leave her. He had taken something precious from her with those words.

Her faith in herself.

Ever since the event, Mary had been haunted by doubts. She feared the things she felt. She was terrified of waking up one day and realizing that every sensation was nothing more than a forgery modeled after actual human emotion.

The word obsession still held fast in her mind. Ib had tried to comfort her and tell her that she WAS real. She WAS Mary. Not just some painting that managed to look and act human. She was a real person now, Ib had assured, and no amount of harsh words from anyone else was going to change that.

Even so, the doubt remained.

Garry listened silently through the whole story, never once making a sound or adjusting in his seat. When it became clear that she had finished, he leaned back in contemplation. After a few moments he reached into his jacket, pulling out a pan and a piece of paper.

Both of the girls watched with questioning looks as he scribbled something on the paper.

"Here" He said, passing it to Mary when he had finished.

"What is it?" She asked as she examined the numbers he had written.

Garry scratched the back of his head awkwardly before he answered. "It's, uh, it's my phone number. If you ever need someone to talk to then go ahead and give me a call. I mean, I know you have Ib but sometimes… I don't know. Sometimes it might help to have other people listening too. Don't worry about interrupting me or anything. If you need to call then go ahead, even if you think I might be busy. Even if it's the middle of the night. I'll make time."

Mary sat in silent shock for the span of several seconds, before she carefully folded the paper up and slipped it into her sleeve.

"Thank you." She said softly, casting her eyes down. "I mean it. Thank you. I… Just…"

Garry offered her a smile. "Don't mention it." He said. "Now how about I get you a cup. We still have enough hot chocolate left over for a round or two."

That night Ib lay awake in her bunk. In the end Mary had opted for the bottom bunk, feeling more secure down near the ground.

She had fallen asleep quickly, but Ib was unable to do the same. Try as she might, the dream world remained just out of reach.

Ib knew what she needed to do.

As quietly as she could, Ib got up from her bunk and climbed down the ladder. It wasn't an easy task in the dark, but she managed all the same. As she reached the floor Ib paused for a moment, glancing at Mary's sleeping form. She looked peaceful. The stress of the day hadn't followed her once she descended into dreaming.

Smiling, Ib quietly slipped out of the door. Her goal was currently laying in the living room, but she made one quick stop on the way there.

Careful not to make a sound, Ib eased open Garry's door and caught a glimpse of the sleeping man. He lay on his back with one arm draped over his face. His other hand opened and closed unconsciously as he muttered in his sleep. She wasn't sure, but she could have sworn she heard him mumble something about a café.

With her curiosity sated, Ib closed the door and made her way to the living room.

It wasn't long before she found what she was after. Her backpack lay next to a small couch, where she had left it earlier that day. Ib quickly crossed the room to it and retrieved the items she needed.

Item one, her sketchbook. The very same one May had gotten her as a gift. It was filled with images of blue roses, but tonight she would be adding something a little different.

Item two, her sketching pencils. Without these she really wouldn't be able to do much drawing, now would she?

And item three, a flashlight. The moon was bright, but she still needed some more light to work with. Not to mention she didn't feel like traumatizing Mary by lighting the fireplace.

Ib carefully positioned her light so that it would shine on the book without her having to hold it. Once she was satisfied with its positioning, she got to work.

When she had first started drawing, Ib tended to let her mind wander. Her hands would move of their own accord and draw whatever her subconscious deemed most important. Today however, she was taking the reins. She was through letting her dreams and fears dictate her actions. Tonight she was deciding her own ending.

For hours Ib sat in the dark, working out every painstaking detail. This picture had to be perfect. Not a single shade of color, or pencil mark could be out of place.

Just as the sun started to rise over the horizon, she finished.

Ib felt a huge weight rise off of her chest as though she had just completed some massive, and vitally important task.

Signing the bottom of the paper, she gave her work a name to seal it in its completion.

With that, she set her sketchbook down and walked back to her room. There were still a few hours left before anyone would be up, and she wanted to get at least a bit of sleep before the day started.

In her sketchbook, her newest drawing shone bright in the vibrant morning sunlight.

It depicted three roses, one red, one blue, and one yellow. All of them were connected by a single red silk thread.

At the bottom of the page was this images new name.

Ib: All Together.

Thanks again to everyone who read the story, and special thanks to Amethyst -Guardian- Lycure for making me write the epilogue. You guys are what makes writing worth while.