A/N: How bittersweet it is to bring this story to a close after two and a half years. I started this story in my early days on this website, and I'm finally finished writing it. Thank you to those who have been reading it since the beginning, and also to those who joined this crazy ride along the way. And another thank you to those who will read it in the future! I loved writing this story, and I hope you all enjoyed reading it!
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Ivan was in a daze as he crouched next to the body of his classmate. Nothing made sense to him anymore. How could he have killed Chun-Yan? There was no way! She was his best friend! He couldn't have killed her! Not her, not Leon, not Alfred, not Gilbert!
The knife in the boy's hand felt heavier than it previously had. Was it the weight of realization? Did he really kill all of those people? He didn't want to believe it, but the other boy's body and the knife in his hand was proof enough of what he had done. Was this why he would have graphic nightmares of killing people? Were they really nightmares after all?
His stomach churned as he pieced it all together. He quickly turned away from Gilbert as he vomited. Everything about the whole situation disgusted him. How would he ever be able to live with himself after what he had done? It was too much!
Headlights, soon followed by flashing police lights, blinded Ivan. He could feel his heart racing madly as none other than Ludwig Beilschmidt jumped out of the police car. His mind was in a frenzy as he desperately tried to think of a reason as to why he would kill his son for absolutely no reason. But there was nothing.
"Gilbert!" Ludwig shouted, ripping off his gloves and desperately searching for a pulse, or any indication that his only son was still alive. "No! No, no, no, no, no, no!" Refusing to accept this harsh reality, he shook Gilbert. "Wake up, Gil! Please wake up! There is no way this is happening!"
"I'm sorry!" Ivan sobbed, clutching the knife tightly in his hand. "I killed him!"
Ludwig felt his blood run cold as he turned to face the sobbing murderer. "Ivan Braginsky?!" He felt as if his eyes and ears were deceiving him.
"I killed him," the boy repeated. "I killed all of them. Chun, Alfred, Leon, Gilbert…. Others whom I don't know the names of. They're all dead. I killed them. In my nightmares I killed them. I was asleep. Gilbert said it was me."
Trying to process the murder confession, Ludwig looked to his deceased son. "Gilbert...knew?" He couldn't even begin to wrap his head around all of the current madness. He reached up to his shoulder to his walkie-talkie, holding down the button to transmit Ivan's confession.
"I didn't want to kill everyone," Ivan continued. "I don't even know why I did it. There is no reason to any of it. Why would I kill my best friend, her family, Alfred, Gilbert? What the hell is wrong with me?" His grip on the knife tightened. "Why did I do all of this? What was the point of it all? Was there a point in the first place? I can't accept this. I can't live with this! There's no point in it! I killed my best friend! Why do I deserve to live when I'm the one who took her life from her?! If justice is real, then I will bring it upon myself!" He lifted the knife, pointing it toward the left side of his chest. "I'm sorry, Officer Beilschmidt! I'm so, so sorry!"
Ignoring the shouts of protest from Ludwig, Ivan swiftly plunged the knife into his heart, ending the living nightmare.
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One Year Later
Monica Beilschmidt admired the beautiful engagement ring on her finger and smiled, glancing at the photos on the wall across from her. Pictures of Matthew with his mom and Alfred, Matthew and Irunya's wedding photo, a picture of Monica's first date with Feliciano, Monica and Elizaveta in their high school prom dresses, and a photo of Monica and Gilbert on his seventeenth birthday. Each photo seemed like a lifetime ago and made her heart ache. She was still coming to terms with her brother's sudden death, each day just as hard as the day she lost him.
Two strong arms circled her waist as Matthew Williams held her from behind. He kissed her cheek and snuggled her close. "It will get easier someday," he quietly said before sighing. "I just wish I knew when that day would come."
She nodded her sentiment. "But even though I know that kid killed all of them, I can't bring myself to hate him. Whether it's because of his own circumstances or because he killed himself upon realizing what he had done, I just can't do it. What's wrong with me? He murdered so many people whom we both loved, but I can't help but pity him. Maybe I'm just disappointed because I didn't get any closure. Then again, no one did."
Matthew held his fiancee close, trying to comfort her, yet he wondered how comforting he really was. He almost felt relief upon hearing their newborn crying in the nursery. "Want me to go?" he asked.
Monica turned her head to him and smiled. "Let's go together," she suggested. She grabbed Matthew's hand and walked him down the hallway to the nursery. "No more need to cry," she softly announced, entering the room, "Mommy and Daddy are here."
Leaning back against the doorframe, Matthew watched Monica pick up their fussy daughter, smiling fondly at the two. He let out a relieved laugh when the infant instantly stopped crying, pacified by their presence alone. "She seems like an easy baby," he said with a chuckle. He stepped over to Monica and the baby, slipping his index finger into his daughter's grip. "Let's hope the rest of them will be like that."
Laughing heartily, Monica turned her attention to her fiance. "We can only hope," she agreed. Her gaze drifted back down to the infant as her tiny eyes blinked open. "Finally decided to join the realm of the conscious?" she teasingly cooed. "How about that, Genny?"
They had chosen to name their daughter Genesis Hope Williams, knowing that her name would roughly translate to "hope for new beginnings". After the horror of the murders, Matthew and Monica agreed to put their future into the beautiful girl that healed their aching hearts.
"Should we get ahold of your parents to let them know she's awake? Your mom said something about getting together for dinner tonight." Matthew took Genesis from Monica and smiled. "I bet they'd like to see Genny while she's awake anyway."
Monica smiled. "I'm on it." She kissed Matthew's lips before stepping into the hallway to make the phone call.
After finishing the call, she leaned against the wall, thinking about the past year and a half of her life. If anyone two years ago were to ask her if she had seen any of this in her future, she would've said they were crazy. Yet here she was, a secret millionaire, living a normal mother's life, and engaged to her high school crush. If only she and Matthew hadn't lost so many precious people to reach this point. But this was her life now, and she would be damned if she didn't make the best of it.
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Tino Oxenstierna sighed as he walked through the grocery store. He had no been separated from Berwald for over a year. Neither of them saw a point in staying together after Peter was murdered. The last time they met face-to-face, was when Berwald told him what had become of the person who had killed their son. After that day, Tino didn't see his husband again, not even in passing. It was almost as if Berwald disappeared off the face of the earth. He had even stepped down from being the county judge.
Naturally, Tino was genuinely surprised to find Berwald perusing the liquor aisle of the store that day. He had to admit that his husband looked rough. Then again, a year of heavy drinking with no support from anyone would do that. His conscience stabbed him with guilt, knowing that it may not have reached that point if he had stayed by his side. Though he knew it wasn't healthy for him to think that way, he couldn't help it.
Trying to sneak away unnoticed, Tino's heart skip a beat when he heard Berwald's deep voice behind him. "Tino? Is it really you?"
Tino slowly turned to face Berwald. "Yes," he slowly replied. "It's me, Berwald. How are you?"
"I have definitely seen better days," the taller man stated. "How about you? You look well."
"Thanks, I guess," the other man replied, scraping at the floor with his shoe. "I'm getting to the point where I can get out of bed in under an hour these days. For awhile, I had some pretty good neighbors that helped me through it until the little brother they were raising was murdered by that psycho." Tino nearly spat the words out of his mouth by the end of the sentence. "After that, it was constant yelling in the apartment next door until they separate and moved away." He frowned. "Now I'm all alone again, but it's not as bad as it could be." His eyes filled with tears. "Sometimes, I can still hear Peter's voice telling me to get up, asking if I can take him to the park." A couple tears escaped, but he didn't care. "It's so hard, Berwald. I hate this. I hate all of it. Why did any of this have to happen? I lost my friends. I lost my son." He lifted his gaze to meet the eyes of the man before him.. "I lost the only man I ever loved with everything in me." His voice began to tremble. "No. I'm not fine. Nothing about this is fine. But I can't say that because that's not what people want to hear from me."
As if upon instinct, Berwald stepped toward Tino, closing the gap between them, wrapping his arms around his husband and burying the smaller man's face into his chest. "Fuck anyone who doesn't want to hear the truth. Stop lying to everyone, Tino. And that includes yourself. Sure, my coping mechanisms are less than grand, but I won't lie about how I feel."
The smell of tobacco and alcohol overwhelmed Tino. He didn't remember ever smelling it this strongly on Berwald before. "I can't, Ber," he said, voice muffled. "I'll lose myself if I do. And if I lose myself, maybe I'll never be me again."
Berwald, held Tino at arm's length and looked him in the eye. "If you lose yourself, then I swear on my life that I will find you again."
The smaller man's eyes watered. "How can you say that when I haven't seen or heard from you in over a year? Don't get my hopes up for something that could never happen."
"I couldn't face you, Tino," he said, averting his eyes. "I'm no longer the man you married. That man died with our son. But for any chance at a future with you in it, even as nothing more than a friend, I'll do anything. I'll leave this aisle. I'll throw out in alcohol in the house. I'll go to a support group. Seeing you for the first time in over a year is enough to get me to work toward a future with you in it."
"If you mean it, then let's start over," Tino said, "from the beginning. My name is Tino Oxenstierna. Most days, I am overwhelmed by grief, but I am still trying to manage. It's nice to meet you."
Berwald put the bottle that had been in his hand back onto the shelf. "Hello, Tino Oxenstierna. I'm Berwald Oxenstierna. I'm a now recovering alcoholic who is also grieving. It occurs to me that we have the same last name. I hope that soon, that will no longer be the only thing we have in common."
Tino found his first smile in months forming on his lips. "It's a start, Berwald."
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Alice Kirkland reached into her mailbox and pulled out a package, taking it into her house. Upon opening it, she found that it was her finalized divorce papers, signed by both her and Arthur. It was over now. It was finally over. Her heart ached in her chest, but only for a moment. She felt relief when a pair of strong arms embraced her from behind.
"So it's finally over," a man's voice softly said in her ear. "How are you feeling, Alice? Are you okay? I know it must really be painful."
She turned to face him, taking in his breathtaking appearance. He was tall with tanned skin and dark, fluffy hair. The only similarity between him and Arthur was his green eyes, yet his seemed to always hold a playful gaze instead of the stern glare that Arthur's held. "Antonio," she breathed, smiling. Her lips placed a kiss on his cheek. "I'm a little sad to see the ending of what was once a dream come true, but now I can move forward with my life. Here's to our future," she said to him.
Antonio Fernandez Carriedo smiled and placed a hand on Alice's pregnant belly. "And to hers," he replied with a smile before kissing her. "When you called me a year ago, I didn't think you were serious. But when you and the boys showed up at my door, I knew I was ready for anything, as long as you would be by my side. You have given me everything I could ever ask for. I love you, I love the boys, and I love our unborn daughter. I know this timing isn't exactly the best, but I can't hold back any longer."
Alice gasped when Antonio got down on one knee and pulled a small box from his pocket. "Toni…"
"Alice Kirkland," he began, "I know you've only been legally single for about five minutes now, but I'm impatient." He blushed, smiling an adorably awkward smile at her. "Would you have any problems with being my wife? We won't have any issues like your last marriage, because you've been the only person on my mind since college. I swear I'll continue loving you and only you until the day I die."
She smiled, her heart nearly bursting with joy. "Yes, Antonio," she said. "Nothing would make me happier than marrying you." Her eyes widened as he placed a dazzling diamond ring on her finger. "I love you, Antonio. I love you. I love you. I love…"
Her professing was soon cut off by his lips, and as she became lost in her love for him, Alice realized that she had finally found her happy ending.
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The End
