Epilogue.
"For I Believe in Harbors at the End." - Thomas Wolfe.
...
The bright shades of blue had rarely ever felt so cheery.
Adjusting to life after Oz was strange.
A little over a year had passed. Holidays came and went. As did his birthday.
He was twenty-five now. And determined to make this new year his best.
The morning that he had woken up in his bed after being sent home from Oz, he was naked.
His Wizard suit was gone without a trace, as if none of Oz had ever happened.
He had went downstairs to have breakfast, as if there had been no drastic change to begin with.
He turned on the TV, watching the news and eventually seeing a story that was.. personal, to say the least.
The arrests of Gwen and Rebecca were being discussed for falsely accusing Thersea of abuse to take her five-year old son away from her. Thersea had been awarded custody of her son thanks to his father, Ethan. Gwen and Rebecca were looking at life in prison without parole with that, combined with findings that Gwen had had her miscarriage on purpose to use it as a motive. To accuse Thersea of killing her child.
He was met with both shock and relief. Everything had worked itself out, and his adventures in Oz were seemingly real.
He tried to get in touch with Thersea, just to see if everything had really happened. If she remembered, but he had no luck in contacting her or Ethan.
Maybe she didn't remember. And maybe this was the universe's way of assuring him everything had been okay.
...
Over those next few weeks, he dedicated himself to getting Donny out of prison. To free the young man, as he had freed Dorothy from her trial. In his dream, or in real events. It became increasingly unclear as time progressed.
Nevertheless, he started more petitions and put up flyers. Found an old video Donny had sent of his father abusing him.
Eventually, it worked. Donny was released from prison and his father was later imprisoned.
Oz had given him the knowledge and strength to face the last demon in his life. Now to move on. And do something else.
...
And over that year, that was just what he did.
He got a job as a journalist. His work was online, and nothing major. But it paid well. His adventures in Oz, be it real or fake, gave him the resources he needed. Knowledge and a sense of cunning willingness to explore. After his adventures.. or dreams.. it was a cakewalk to face real world challenges.
He wrote small time children's stories on the side, inspired by his adventures.
...
He didn't think about Oz as much.
It wasn't like the time between his other adventures.
It was clear it had all been erased.
Claire's number was no longer in his phone, nowhere to be found. The kids were impossible to contact or find.
None of the artifacts he had brought back from Oz were in his cabin.
Oz, was without question, gone.
His mother had no recollection of him vanishing in the way he had during his last trip. According to her, he had seen his family multiple times since he moved out. She spoke of conversations the two of had that he did not remember.
It was all the evidence he needed, really. It had all been erased.
...
He had friends, now.
A solid friend group that he trusted and often hung out with.
He went on vacations, had laughs, made memories. Went on a few dates. Sure, no one had surpassed Dorothy, but she was gone. He'd always love her, whether or not they had truly crossed paths. Of course he'd think of her, but it wasn't the obsession he kept the last two times.
He was over her, he was clean. No longer being haunted by a woman who was from another universe.
...
There was a small Oz theme park where he lived that opened every autumn for a few weeks.
It wasn't lavish or impressive with its production, but it was made with love. He had been as a child, and decided to return.
It didn't haunt him like it would have before. He stepped along the fake Yellow Brick Road and he felt little sadness.
Oz was over, and it was now more of a fond memory and a movie he quite admire.
He did get a strange letter marked from someone named Theodora one day, but he shrugged it off. It wasn't very noteworthy content within the letter and probably didn't mean much.
Before, he had obsessed over trying to stop an Oz theme park. But this small time theme park for Oz was cute. He ended up working with the staff every so often and got a part time job there, coming in whenever he felt like it. No obligations, really.
Sometimes, he'd be asked to watch after the park as leader.
And for once, he was a good leader in Oz.
It was nice, having a little glimpse of Oz.
One day, he crossed paths with three children.
Tommy, Charlotte, and Kyle.
He knew them from his dreams.. or adventures, whatever it was.
They spoke to him as he helped set things up at the park.
They looked just like he remembered, but nothing like themselves at the same time. Maybe the memories were just fading.
They didn't speak of Oz. And they didn't seem to remember him.
Claire was there, too. She looked the same, but with longer hair now. She didn't remember him either, but they exchanged numbers. Maybe they could all reconnect.
Thersea and Ethan were with them, too. It had Bryson feeling a bit strange, but it had been over a year and his Oz adventures felt so far removed.
The two got married at the theme park, and the little child Colton was present.
There was a gathering afterward.
Bryson was slightly hurt that not a single person in the group seemed to remember him, but it was okay. He had new friends now.
But he had to make sure they'd all be doing well for themselves. That their Oz journeys were not in vain, if they even remembered.
"So, what are you kid's gonna be doing with your lives? You're at the age where there's a bit of a turning point, eh?"
"I'm gonna finish high school, go to college." Tommy had said. Charlotte said the same.
"I'm gonna go on a long road trip. I have a brother I need to patch things up with and I'd like to see the world, ya know? Maybe I'll find him. Either way, it'll be a nice trip." Kyle had said.
Bryson smiled at them all. Whether or not they remembered, the lessons they learned seemed to be within them internally.
And he was satisfied. It was a nice get-together, and Claire seemed to like him just as much as before. It would be nice to reconnect. Dreams by Van Halen was blasting through the speakers and he was content. Even if they didn't remember him.
Although, Tommy had turned to Bryson and winked at him as he left.
Bryson gasped. Maybe they did remember.
...
A few weeks more and life carried on.
It wasn't perfect, but it was good.
But his job as a journalist was gaining more traction, and he needed to move on.
...
A year and a half later.
There he was in New York City, the big apple where dreams supposedly came true. His friends joined him, as they worked in his space.
Life wasn't perfect, no. But it was beautiful in its complexity. Oz was something he'd never achieve. And that was okay.
It was so okay. It was wonderful.
One night, he wrote about his feelings about the whole past year and ended it with a message to himself.
"To all that I've done, both good and bad. For that is life."
...
And so it went.
New York was where he had truly became a new person and found his independence.
Things were good, and he found himself in a bookstore on a cold November night.
His prince length hair, big black coat and pants weren't enough to warm him over. New York had it perks, but man, was it cold.
He did love stories, so why not stay here?
He decided to come alone, just wanting to reflect on everything and have a peaceful night in.
He went through a few books with a smile on his face.
Man, life sure wasn't perfect. Sometimes rent was a struggle, sometimes he'd have problems with his friends. Sure, he got lonely and wished to share his life with someone. But man... he thought to himself. Life was so good.
Letting go of his obsessive compulsions had truly transformed him, and it was evident in the way he carried himself.
He was prepared to go home and sleep, enjoy his weekend.
He set the book on a shelf, eyes lingering on it before he felt a tap on his shoulder.
He jumped, and turned to see who it was.
"Excuse me, sir. But I'm having trouble finding someone who works here and, well. You seem to be reading a lot of these books. Maybe you could help me?"
When he saw who was speaking, he nearly exploded.
Dorothy Gale was standing in front of him with a large, brown, chic vintage coat. She had leather brown gloves on. Her lips were painted red and her auburn hair had a daisy in it. Her dark skirt showed off her legs, her heels making her taller than he remembered.
Bryson Scott made the strangest noise he had ever heard himself.
It was a trembling noise, like a gasp. But more silent. Overwhelmed.
He slowly lowered his hands and looked the woman over from head to toe.
She seemed so mature, so sure of herself. And she smelled different, with a new more modern perfume mixed with her own scent.
It took him several seconds before he could speak.
"I hope your mouth isn't always hung open like that. You'll catch flies." Dorothy snickered.
Bryson shook his head. "Dorothy..." he said, voice below even a whisper.
She smiled and shook her head fondly. "Do you always respond so overwhelmingly? To being asked for help in book stores?" She giggled.
Bryson just lunged into her and squeezed her frame, wrapping his arms around her tightly.
He squeezed her frame, eyes squeeze shut as she sighed and hugged him back just as strongly.
"I... h-how?" Bryson stammered.
Dorothy giggled in his ear. "Ozma was going to send me back to my Kansas. I told her to take me to your world instead."
Bryson gasped. "W-why?" He chuckled in her ear, in disbelief.
"Oh, there's nothing for me in Kansas. Auntie Em had told me to move on with life the last time I saw her. And I've always wanted to go some place else. With adventure, something big and exciting. So.. I came to your world."
"I.. h-how long have you been here?" Bryson practically giggled, giddy as he sniffed on the strands of her hair.
"Why, the same amount of time as you." She snickered, still holding him.
He gasped and snapped his head back, gripping her arms up and down. "What?! How? It could be dangerous. You look exactly like an actress that's been dead for years, how c-"
"Oh, please." Dorothy scoffed. "After what we went through in Oz? This is nothing. I'm a big girl, I can take care of myself." She tilted his chin, making him shudder.
"Besides.." the girl continued. "What are they gonna do? Figure me out? 'Oh, this must be Dorothy from that fake movie. Clearly, she's from another universe.' " Dorothy mocked in a funny voice, giggling loudly. "I've got things figured out here, darling. You needn't worry."
He shook his head, beaming at her.
Dorothy was here. In his world, and they were both together for the first time ever.
"I... I don't know what to say." Bryson gasped, a dumb grin on his face as he shook his head. "Why did you.. take so long to find me?" He raised his brow.
She cupped her face with her gloved hand, making him shudder.
"I wanted to make sure we had time apart. To make our own lives. To make sure we were both over everything. Before we jumped into something." She smiled. "And sure, I don't know how things will play out. But I would very much like to have you in my life, still.. Bryson Scott." She said lowly.
"I.. I really still don't know what to say." He repeated, laughing nervously.
"Don't say anything. Let's walk around the city together and catch up. We have a lot to discuss, don't we?" She snickered.
...
"Isn't this little thing neat?" Dorothy laughed, pulling out her phone. "It took me a while to be able to get one, but it's so handy!" She snickered.
Bryson grinned. "You like it here?"
"I love it! Compared to where I come from, people are much more open minded and accepting. Sure, it's not Oz. But at least we're not in constant mortal danger, now." She chuckled.
"Very true!" Bryson laughed.
They had been in the streets of the city, arms interlocked tightly together as she led him to her car. "Would you like to visit my apartment?" She asked.
Her car was nice, almost luxurious. It almost seemed as she was wealthy, but not rich. He wondered how that'd happened, but they could talk about it later. They could talk about everything later.
"I'd love to." Bryson smiled warmly. Dorothy started the car. "I told you you would make it if you set your little perfection thing aside. And look at you now." She smiled warmly.
Dorothy drove off, singing Have a Merry Little Christmas to herself. It was almost that time of year, after all. It was beginning to snow in the New York night.
Bryson reflected on her words and nodded.
Maybe happily ever after didn't exist. But this felt pretty damn close, and he expressed his resolve.
"We're all gonna make it."
...
...
...
The End.
/
Final A/N:
Guys, thank you to every single person who supported any one of these stories. I wrote the first one and based a lot of the Bryson character off someone I know and it was personal writing this arc.
I wanted this series to be about how we cling to fantasy, to the idea of perfect escape. And illustrate these themes, how it relates to real life, politics, etc.
So yes, the story is over. I may write other Oz stories that have nothing to do with this, maaaybe other drabbles with these characters. But I think this is really is it, it's over and the series is complete.
There's a few loose ends, and I want to keep it that way because I enjoy some allure and mystery in Oz.
Now I wanna give some special thanks
1) To Dequincyx,
I wrote the first story by myself and was struggling to finish when I got to the second one because I became so much busier. I had read your Oz stories and thought you'd be a perfect helper and co-writer. And you were. Your creativity is amazing to me. The heart you added into this story is incredible and I can't thank you enough. Your ideas always had a natural Oz feel to them and balanced things out so well, and kept me on my toes while I was writing. There's so many more left over ideas of yours I love and want to use. Maybe one day I will make something separate from this series with those ideas.
Everyone, please check out Dequincyx's profile. There's a lot of great stories on there. Dequincyx deserves the upmost credit.
2) L. Frank Baum,
Without your stories, this wouldn't exist. Thank you for the immense creativity and wonder you sparked. It will never fade.
I have other thoughts and feelings about this story. I think it's somewhat implied that the Oz Bryson went to was a manifestion of his perfect Oz, but I'll leave that up to the reader, it's not concrete.
What happens next, what happened behind the scenes in the story, etc.. I will leave that all up to you.
It's been a joy to write these characters.
So, for the last time.. thank you for any favorites, follows, and reviews.
Keep on Dreaming of Oz.