I've got an epilogue! One long one—it could stand as a chapter!

(But, I guess you could say it's an optional epilogue for the optional 'part three'/sequel. See, epilogues can always go too far and I'm quite aware of that.—Hence why this is another optional piece to this story.)

I recall saying that this story would have a bittersweet end. The story itself ended bitter, this would be the "sweet" part

I've given you two more excerpts from two more songs. I know you're getting sick of them from me, but sometimes there's a song you find that works so oddly . . . I doubt you even read the lyrics, yet here I am putting them up still. The first is "Tonight I wanna cry" by Keith Urban, the second it "Who you'd be today" by Kenny Chesney

There're pictures of you and I on the walls around me

The way that it was and could have been surrounds me

I'll never get over you goin' away

I've never been the kind to ever let my feelings show

And I thought that bein' strong

Meant never losin' your self-control.

But I'm just drunk enough

To let go of my pain.

To hell with my pride, let it fall like rain

From my eyes

Tonight I wanna cry

Epilogue: The Fifth Anniversary

Something was poking him. He shifted, but the poking never stopped.

"—?" The familiar voice told him more than his name, but to wake up as well. His eyes slowly opened and a familiar face swam before him. Her eyes were large, a deep russet color that shone.

"Evi . . . ?" Mu rubbed at his sleepy eyes again. "What are you—"

"You fell asleep on the couch again, Daddy," she sighed picking a thick novel from his chest. "I guess this book must be boring, huh?"

"No, It's . . . " he corrected with a yawn, pulling it from her hands. He sat himself straight and started thumbing through the novel. As each page passed, his face screwed up even more. "Well . . . yeah, actually . . . It is pretty boring." She smiled as he tossed the book aside carelessly. He squared his shoulders and leaned back to look at her straight for the first time that morning.

He didn't know why it was so surprising, but she grew up to look like Murrue.—Just like he said she would. Her hair, recently cut short to just below her ears, had more waves to it, darkened to a deep, rich brown. There were only a few hints of the stubborn blonde-color left of her childhood . . . that and those shifting russet eyes . . . Other than that, Evi had changed completely—even her abundant energy had lost some of its power.

"So . . ." She muttered, fingers twisting together, eyes diverting their gaze from her father. ". . . Did you dream about . . . Mom?"

Mu blinked. It had been a while since the wide-eyed girl had asked him that.

"Yes," he smiled. ". . . yes I did."

"So you love her?" Mu froze up again and let his eyes wash over her.

"Yes."

"So you miss her?" Mu said nothing and just reached his hand out to playfully pat down her hair.

"Evi, what is it with all these stupid questions?" He forced a laugh. "The answers are obvious." Her eyes fell even farther to the floor. Mu's eyes followed the action. Cocking his head, he leaned back into the couch to get a better view, all the while confused. "Evi? Why are you so dressed up?"

Indeed she was dressed up. The girl donned a sweet simple red dress. Usually she just wore pants and a t-shirt. Evi's russet eyes stared back up at him from behind her hair.

". . . You promised you'd take us today," she said, voice stonier than Mu would have liked. He felt his whole body tense and his hand retreated as he just stared at his little girl.

Turning away, Mu ran his fingers through his hair.

"Come on, Evi," he muttered. "Upstairs."

"But you promised," she challenged. "You said you would!"

"Evi . . ." His voice was low and soft, almost quiet. Then Evi did something he'd never thought from her. She burst in her anger.

"You never talk about her!" She yelled, freezing the grown man dead in his tracks, back turned to her. "Matt doesn't even know her!"

"Evi . . ." Mu's voice growled, but he didn't turn around.

"Daddy, how can you say that—"

"Evi!" His own rare burst of anger silenced the girl. The stillness surrounding them was almost suffocating. The quiet was so awkward yet familiar, Mu couldn't help by smile. He turned around to his waiting daughter, true grin splashed across his face. "I mean, can't we at least have breakfast before we go? You can't deny you're hungry," he mused. "I can hear your stomach from over here."

"Daddy!" Evi ran over and gave her father a big hug. "You always do keep your promises," she smiled into his chest. Mu kept quiet. . . . That statement didn't apply to him anymore. It hadn't for five years.

Evi moved her head up to look at his face, smiling. "It's been a year, hasn't it? Since we've been there last? Glad to go back, right?" Mu's soft face softened even more looking into her expectant stare.

"Yeah . . . of course." Evi pulled away from him and began running towards the stairs, still smiling.

"I'm gonna go set the table for breakfast, okay?" She explained from the top. "What are we going to have today?" Mu touched at his chin, thinking.

"We'll see . . . Just think about what you want." Mu blinked with realization. "Is Matt up yet?"

"No, I don't think so . . ." Evi shook her head walking out of view. "He's in his room, I guess." The last thing Mu saw was a flash of red dress. It made him smile.

He finally understood what Murrue meant about Evi showing care and remembrance in her little subtle ways. When he was gone for those ten months, Evi childishly turned her favorite color to purple—the color of his flight suit. When Murrue . . . died . . . she started loving the color red.

Mu shook his head, turning to Matt's bedroom door. And when Tyler moved away, she added black—his hair color—to her list of favorites . . . The black stage may have worn off, but Mu had a feeling that her favorite color as red wouldn't ever change.

"Man, oh, man," Mu sighed beneath his breath, knocking on his son's door. "Matt, you up yet?" His eyes traveled over the messy room strewn with toys and such and he couldn't stop a small groan from coming off his lips. He had just cleaned the boy's room up yesterday and already it was . . . "Come on, Sleepy head.—Can't sleep forever." Mu gently shook the boy awake. His ice-like eyes peered up from behind dark auburn hair.

"Evi finally woke you up, Dad?" He laughed at Mu's resulting screwed-up smile.

"Come on, Matt. Breakfast is going to be soon." The young seven-year-old didn't move to get up. In fact, Mu was positive the boy pulled the sheets closer.

"So, are we going?" He asked, eyes imploring. "Evi told me to not get up unless we were.—So are we?" Mu stared down at Matt's mocking grin and ran his fingers through his blond hair, shaking his head.

"I swear there's a conspiracy against me . . ." Mu muttered with a laugh. Matt cocked his head.

"'Conspiracy?' What does that mean?"

"Uh, nothing important," Mu covered, standing over his sill unmoved son. "But," Mu heaved a long, slow, over-the-top sigh. "Yes, we are going today . . ." Mu grinned, thumb jerking to the door. "So get your lazy bum out of bed."

With a grin, Matt jumped out of his made up bed, already dressed-up. Just like Evi was. As the boy stumbled over the toys strewn about the floor, somehow making his way out the door, Mu bent down to pick a few up.

A soft smile came to the aging man's face. He could remember when this room acted as both Evi's and Matt's . . . back when it was just the nursery. Since then, it'd changed—drastically. Another paint job, the walls were now a blue instead of their previous yellow. Evi had moved out to another room across the hall. She wanted her room to be white pink and red. By the time Mu had finished the grueling task of repainting the inside of his house, he could barely walk for a week.—His leg had acted up again from all the strain.

Mu set the small action figures on the desk before turning back to idly make Matt's bed. Mu wasn't surprised to find some more toys wedged between the sheets. Matt never seemed to put anything back . . . and after all the times Mu had made him.

There was a small bedside table, though, and that was the only thing really clear. It had a lamp, but, other than that . . . Mu's foot gently hit something on the ground. Bending to pick it up, his face softened at the two pictures framed in the homemade case. The one in the upper corner was the four of them standing in front of the front door. Matt only came up to just above his knees there, and Murrue was leaning into his shoulder. The second picture was another family portrait, the same thing, but taken five years later. With a sigh, Mu placed the fallen frame back in its place of honor on the bedside table.

Making his way up the stairs, Mu was caught by Evi shoving a bowl in his face.

"Is cereal okay, Daddy?" She asked to his confused stare. "I know you were going to make breakfast, but Matt," the boy caught a mouthful of her glare, "couldn't wait that long."

Matt sent Evi back a flash of his tongue sticking out. Mu quickly stepped in.—Evi looked like she was going to blow.

"Hey, hey, let's not start that," Mu playfully warned, hands finding his hips. "I can easily not take you today, you know."

Within moments the two were sitting quietly at the table, formally eating their cereals, not slouched or anything. Mu let out a laugh, setting himself even more sloppily into his seat by the table. He let out a yawn. Matt and Evi laughed.

"So, Daddy . . . ?"

"Yes?" When Evi arched her eyebrow like that when asking a question, Mu knew to brace himself.

"There was this thing in the news . . ." She pointed across the table to that morning's newspaper. Evi never really read it, but the front page picture wall all Mu needed. It was a full color print of a man and his dog. Mu heaved a sigh, running his fingers through his hair.

"Evi, we went over this."

"But, It's not just me," she defended pointing over to her brother. "Matt wants one too. Don't you, Matt?" The boy nodded, taking a sip from his glass.

Mu smiled. Matt never really spoke, but Evi made up for his silence tenfold. Mu could swear that if he actually counted, Matt would only say five maybe ten sentences a day before shutting up. Slowly though, he was getting more talkative.

"See, Daddy, Matt wants a dog, too!"

"And yet," Mu grinned, "my answer is somehow the same . . . No."

"Aw, but why?"

"You know why, Evi. No one'd be here to take care of it," Mu relayed for the third time that week. "You've got school and I've got my work."

Evi fell in on herself, trying to find how to word her next plea for a pet. Mu grinned, it was so easy to figure out what was going on in her mind. After asking is everyone was finished with their food, Mu gathered all the dishes, placing them in eth sink. He could wash them later.

"Right now I'm going to go get dressed," he announced, stretching before his door. "You two go and get yourselves ready to go as well." Mu motioned the two downstairs—they nearly ran. He called out after them. "And I want coats and everything, you hear? It's a bit chilly out there today." Mu shook his head, closing the bedroom door behind him. "Don't want you two getting sick," he muttered.

His room hadn't changed, not one bit—and he liked it that way.

From his seat on his bed, Mu could make out the faint bickering between his two kids coming from downstairs. Today their fight was over whether their dad, Mu, would let them get a pet if it was something other than a dog—like a cat or bird. Mu pushed himself off the bed and to the vanity across the way.

It held many memories.

"How the hell did you do it, Murrue?" He wondered aloud, wiping some dust from her face in the photograph he held.

Sunny days seem to hurt the most
Wear the pain like a heavy coat
I feel you everywhere I go
See your smile, I see your face
I hear you laughing in the rain
Still can't believe your gone

It ain't fair, you died too young
Like a story that had just begun
But death tore the pages all away.
God knows how I miss you
All the hell that I've been through
Just knowing, no one could take your place
Sometimes I wonder, who you'd be today

"So . . ." Mu tried hard to start up a conversation in the awkward silence of the car. Matt wasn't a surprise, but Evi had barely said a word since strapping herself in eth backseat beside her brother. All she did was keep flattening out her red dress.

With another deep breath, Mu tried again. "Oh, Evi, you saw Tyler yesterday after school. How is he?" The girl shrugged, keeping her look out the window.

"Good, I guess . . . His dad took him on a trip and he just came back.—so he was telling me all about it. Seemed fun." Mu's face screwed up lightly. He had to ask, he could never take awkward silences before.

"What's the matter, Evi . . . ? You seem quiet." She shrugged, eyes never moving from the window, voice holding a yawn.

"Oh . . . I'm just tired."

"You want to go home?" Mu offered, already knowing the answer.

"No!" She shot back, russet eyes suddenly raging in his rearview mirror. "We're going there, Daddy," she reminded him, voice like an order. "We're going." She turned away to the window, hand catching her browning hair. ". . . We have to," she muttered.

Mu watched the scene unfold itself in his eyes. He couldn't hold it in any longer—when his eyes fell back towards the road, he said it—simply, like it meant nothing.

"You're just like your mother, Evi." Her face lit up. Even Matt's attention was snagged. The boy had been too young to remember, so now, his ice eyes traveled over his sister, intent on trying to see it.

"Really?" Evi glowed. "You sure?"

Mu nodded silently, completely sure.

Evi was too much like her.

Look who they admire now . . . Seems like I've won our bet, Murrue, Mu solemnly mused. His eyes were focused on the road before him, but his mind was elsewhere.

-

'Mu?'

'Hm?' He arched his neck to look back at her sprawled out on their bed, reading something, idly flipping the pages. Murrue's amber eyes met his.

'In five—maybe ten—years or so, who do you think they'll be most like? You or me?' Her stare challenged him. Mu grinned. Obviously she was talking about Evi and Matt— and the one on its way . . .

'Honestly?' He ran his fingers through his hair in the mirror. He could swear it was getting thinner, but Murrue kept saying he was imagining it.

'Yes, Mu,' she sighed. 'Honest.'

'You.—Simple enough.'

'You're just saying that,' she sighed, shoulders sagging as he made his way closer. 'You said you'd be honest.'

'And I was,' he grinned, sitting down beside her, hand resting itself on the small of her back. Murrue smiled, craning her neck to look up into his eyes from her splayed out position lying on her stomach.

'Well, I say they're going to be more like you, Mu.'

'Aw, you're just saying that,' he subtly mocked.

'Wanna bet?' Her challenging eyes flashed playfully. Mu was taken back, if only for a moment, by the devilish smile that had crept its way onto her usually serene face.

Mu touched at his chin, actually putting some thought to the fun idea.

'. . . sure, Murrue. It's a bet.'

-

When Mu came to, they were there. It took a moment for his eyes to accustomed themselves to the stones. They rolled along the soft hills, as if they were a natural part of the ground not . . . graves.

It was a cemetery. The cemetery.

He never remembered how he got from the car to the stone, the one with her name chiseled deep into it as if to protect the memory it gave, but that never really mattered.

It was silent. Evi kept moving her eyes from her father to Matt and back. She could see the distant look in her father's eyes.—She knew it well. Matt wasn't going to disturb this moment, she was making sure. Evi, instead, flattened out her red dress and laid the bouquet of dark crimson roses at their feet. An offering of remembrance.

Straightening herself up, Evi's fingers found in the jacket of her coat the one physical piece of her mother left to her. They curled tightly around it.

Matt glanced into her eyes, a shake of her head his only response. Above their heads, Mu was having his own silent battles. He hadn't moved, neither had his eyes. They kept their glare focused down to the stone.

Years of hidden guilt bubbled to the surface easily.

He promised to protect her . . . He promised to give his life for her. He did nothing. He watched it take her before his eyes . . . all the while being told, 'there was nothing he could've done.'

There's always something one can do.

But he did nothing.

And he'd spent five years relaying that thought to himself, over and over. For five years.

"It's been five years already?" Mu muttered weakly beneath his breath. "God, I could swear it was yesterday."

Five years ago that day did Murrue pass in his arms . . . Mu could never forget.

He forgot Evi and Matt's hands that he held tightly in his grip. He never noticed them slip away, leaving him alone before the stone.

Everything flashed before his eyes then.

The day he first met Murrue . . . the day he realized he loved her . . . all the battles he'd been in . . . their first kiss . . . the kisses that followed . . . their life together after the war . . . the day he proposed . . . the day she said yes . . . the day she said 'I do' . . . the day Evi was born . . . The day he came home . . . The day he found out the truth . . . The day she was pregnant . . . The day she left him . . . the funeral . . .

Evi . . . Matt . . .

. . . Murrue . . .

The laughs, the pain, the joy, the tears . . . the kisses, the scorn . . . He could remember it all, and it all came so clear . . . all at once. Mu couldn't take it.

Mu never noticed how he let that one tear escape. Surely, he thought he'd have run out by then, but, that just wasn't the case. Following that first's example, several more tears would cascade their way down his stone face before someone wiped them away.

Fingers appeared before him, wet from clearing his face. Those fingers that came before his face weren't his own.

Mu blinked the wetness from his eyes to look down into their faces. Evi, being tall enough, just reached his face with her hand. She kept it there. Her russet eyes shone, soft smile easily molding her face. Mu's eyes caught her other hand before turning away. There was something clamped tight between her fingers. It didn't take long for him to realize what it was, for the dangling chain often haunted his sleep.

Murrue's necklace.

He couldn't help a light grin—he always wondered where that silver coffin went.

Matt stood beside her, appraising ice eyes waiting quietly beneath his dark hair. He held out one of the flowers from the bouquet they'd brought with them. The dark rose was just a bud, but Mu knew . . .

He needed no words.—They gave him none. A soft laugh left Mu, quiet and unannounced. It followed his smile.

I'm changing the end status of our bet, Murrue, he inwardly grinned, eyes washing over Evi and Matt, never stopping in their travels. He could feel the wetness return to his eyes again.

You win.

Mu painfully dropped to his knee before them, before the stone.

Maybe they are becoming more like me . . . but then again . . .

It gave him a better view, looking up into both their faces. The three of them shared a smile. Mu pulled Evi and Matt closer into his hold, into his arms. The necklace fell out of Evi's hand, the rose out of Matt's. They didn't resist, they didn't let go, they just hugged him back.

The stone stood ominous before Mu, but he just grinned, letting out a laugh.

. . . I'm becoming more like you. The bold name before him—he could hear her smile—see her laugh—with him once more.

". . . love you."

Who knows? Maybe I could actually get used to this being a father thing after all.