Spoilers: Brother's Keeper; some small references to L&L, TIOBE, FFH, DoT, JA, MFN, and the Pilot

Spoilers: Brother's Keeper; some small references to L&L, TIOBE, FFH, DoT, JA, MFN, and the Pilot.  (You know, someday I'm gonna try and write a fic that spoils every last blessed episode, just to see if it can be done ;-P)

Category: Angst, drama, some romance

Disclaimers: The Invisible Man and its characters belong to Stu Segall Productions and the Sci-Fi channel.  'Nuff said.

A/N:  This was inspired partly by devilrats' wonderful story, Epilogue.  It got me to thinking about just how the series' ending might go.

Prologue – Breathing Lessons

A deep thinker and occasional optimist named Ralph Waldo Emerson once wrote: "A breath of will blows eternally through the universe of souls in the direction of Right and Necessity. It is the air which all intellects inhale and exhale, and it is the wind which blows the worlds into order and orbit."  Now my thoughts haven't always been deep and they sure as hell haven't always been optimistic, but I think what he was trying to say is that left to their own devices, most people will choose to live their lives according to the Golden Rule.  Unfortunately, what Ralph forgot to mention is that Right and Necessity aren't always the same direction.

Darien Fawkes took a deep breath of warm soft air, savoring its salty tang, then exhaled in a long, slow sigh.  The weather was perfect tonight and the moon shone high and bright on the gentle waves.  He took another breath and began walking in the soft sand towards the water's edge.  He exhaled again as he closed his eyes and turned his face full into the fine sea spray.

Breathe in, breathe out -- just as he'd learned so many years ago.  He ran a hand through his hair, still upswept, but longer, more subdued and touched by grey at his temples.  Even his goatee and mustache were peppered with it and considerably fuller than the stubbled look he used to sport.  His clothes too were different.  Gone were the vibrant colors of his youth.  Now he wore sage and cream.  'Muted colors for a muted mood,' he mused, lips pursing at his silent alliteration.

Breathe in, breathe out.  How many times had he practiced this simple meditation over the years?  He couldn't even try to guess.  It had become second nature, calming his nerves and cooling his impatience.  He'd needed it frequently -- tonight especially. 

Tonight.  One way or another, it would all be over.  He would face his arch nemesis tonight and this time -- this time -- only one of them would walk away.  He scarcely cared anymore who'd survive.  All he knew was that it would be finished.  He'd live or die, but either way, he'd finally be free.  Tonight.