Epilogue

In a chair by the bed, a girl sat. Her hands were interlaced together, resting on the edge of it. She stared at the floor, dejectedly, unable to meet the gaze of the person in that bed, whose eyes were closed anyway. She shifted once, and though her uncomfortable clothing could have been the cause, it was not. Closing her eyes, she bent down, and leaned her forehead on her knuckles. "Sorry, Dream," she said softly. Then from her pocket, she extracted a note, and placed it in the sleeping boy's hand. "I'm sure you didn't mean for your words to cause this." Her words were the same as the first lines of the letter, waiting to be read by him.

iSorry Dream, I'm sure you didn't mean for your words to cause this. When I told you why I started stealing in the first place, for the thrill of it, you took that in stride, understanding as quickly as if you had already known. Why not-you asked me-why not work with the police instead of against them? Catch criminals instead of being one? The rush is the same, even more perhaps, facing off against the clock as well as people. I'd even be able to redeem my conscience somewhat, metaphorically undoing the wrongs I've done. You laid it all out very neatly, the perfect solution for a thief such as I.

But I've gone from thief to murderer now, and that's something that no one can take in stride, though you tried valiently. My bloodlust has given me an ultimate rush, far superior to that I get from stealing. So strong, in fact, that it takes my mind away. But I have rejected this rush, my conscience winning out over that particular addiction of mine. But what if I should ever give in to it, I asked myself? Would I kill again? Perhaps I should rot in jail, so I'd never be given the chance. But they've been so lenient with me, that it doesn't feel like punishment enough. That's what really worried me.

Your words, though, gave me an idea. I could help, I could. But not like you said. I can't work through the police. I lost their trust that night, I think, when I killed Alyssa's uncle. No matter how many times we both say that it was in the heat of the moment, that I wasn't thinking properly, the fact remains that I possess this deadly potential inside of me, no matter the excuse for setting it free. I killed him with my bare hands, I mean! Bare! There's a monstrous rage within my soul now, but I can restrain it when I'm alone, when I don't think of what happened. Because still I'm angry at him, for shooting you like that, angry at myself for being stupid, angry at everything. Working with the police, I think, would remind me every day, and build up until I burst again, and no one wants that to happen.

And yet, I find myself unable to do nothing now. Maybe it's the rush again, I want to be doing something. (And yes, I have not rid myself yet of my impulse to steal. That's been with me far too long, I think, to be gone any time soon.) Perhaps your words just made me want to do what I can, at least. But whatever it is, I cannot sit here any longer. I will do my best to repent on my own, in my own way. Maybe I'll become a superhero, crusading against injustice. More likely though, I think I'll end up stealing again, but fighting against larger crimes. Whatever I do, though, I must do it alone. And so I bid you farewell. Don't feel sorry for your words, or take them back. They were true, and you couldn't have known how I would take them.

Liana/i

Her mind went back to when the letter had been written. Liana had been sitting there much as she was now, only before, Liana had rested on a table, rather than Dream's bedside. And her wrists had been handcuffed.

Liana had looked up, seeing her whole gang of friends enter, except for Alyssa, who hadn't come to visit, ever. Bobby held a large shopping bag in one hand. "Brought you some food," he'd announced loudly. "They don't let you have any good stuff here."

"Thanks." She'd replied shortly, closing her eyes again after taking the bag.

Jenna'd made a snorting sound. "Look inside, Liana." Inside had been not food, or at least not exclusively that. A change of normal clothes, and three familiar spheres had lain on top.

Liana'd looked up again, in disbelief. Such things would only mean they had an escape planned for her. "Guys, you can't-"

Angel had interrupted her. "If you don't want to escape, then don't. Just hide them somewhere. I've relooped the video monitor with old tapes of you, so no one gets suspicious. Stay or go, your choice."

"I nicked your pokemon for you," Dragon had offered.

"And no doubt Jenna planned it all," Liana's mouth had twisted as she eyed her best friend, who merely smiled and shrugged.

"Only because I knew you were antsy to get out," she said finally, after a long bout of staring. "And we can help. Bobby can rent you an apartment or something, and Angel will fix it so no one can trace it and-"

Liana had cut her off with a look. "Sorry," she'd said shortly, "but what I do, I do alone. Dark roads may lie in store for me, and I can't drag you down them with me. They're mine alone. From this point onward you can't help me. I was originally planning to wait until I was out legitimately, wait until then and see if I changed my mind, maybe. But now, I have to go now. You'll be suspected at any rate, for my escape, but I can't wait if there's an easy way to leave immediately. Here" she'd said, thrusting sheafs of paper at them, one for each person. "For you guys, to remember me by. Now get out of here."

One by one, they had filed out, clutching her words to them as if they were the most precious gold. Jenna, it so happened, who had been the first one in, would also be the last one out. "Jenna," Liana's voice had called out softly, as the other was about to leave. "There's one more thing."

Smiling once in memory, the girl lifted her head. After watching Dream for a few moments, she slowly rose to her feet, her eyes still on him. "It had to be done. Such a spirit, it cannot be contained like that, imprisoned as such. To keep that up would only cause a repetition of what's already happened. I hope you understand that, Dream. And I hope you can forgive me."

"He will." The door to the room opened, and the girl turned, to see Derek enter. "Dream understands very well, he'll understand this too." He walked towards her, and put a comforting arm around her shoulders. "Another outbreak like before needs to be avoided at any cost."

"I guess you're right." She still seemed subdued, though. Passively she stared, blankly into space for a moment, with the rest of the world shut out. Then she jerked herself out of it, and turned to him. "I have something for you." The girl reached into her pocket, and pulled out a crumpled letter, the final one to be delivered. Then she grinned suddenly, with unexpected humor. "Remember the name Liana, if you would. I believe it will be spoken often in the future, with greatness attached to it, be it for superb theft or detectiving, or something entirely different. We'll see."

"Indeed we shall." Derek laughed as well, eager for a break in the mood, and took the paper from her. "And I'll never forget my little sister, Jenna."

Jenna nodded once more, and the two of them exited the room together, leaving Dream to his namesakes.