Chapter Thirty-Eight

You are waiting. You are waiting for something. Wait for my signal. Defend us.

That was what Ozpin had whispered into Qrow's ear before pulling him into a kiss that would have curled Qrow's toes in different circumstances.

Just those words seemed to release whatever curse the bitch had cast and Qrow could finally feel himself able to shift and move. He adjusted his footing, kept himself tense, and when he saw Oz swinging his cane, he was already moving.

The bitch went down, but Callows had howled in rage before jumping at Oz, using fists instead of his knife due to his fury. He was able to hit Oz twice before Qrow barreled into him, knocking them over onto the bitch's prone body. Callows kept howling in rage, but Qrow didn't care. He grabbed that long braid and yanked, trying to pull them away from Oz.

Ozpin, nose bleeding profusely, was trying to crawl away and Qrow spared a second to wonder where his cane went before Callows turned all his fury onto him. There was a lot of punching and kicking and rolling around, trying to get a better advantage. Qrow rolled into a wall and briefly panicked at being pinned. Callows punched him in the guts hard enough to knock the wind out of him, but not to do any real damage without better leverage.

Qrow caught the next punch and rolled, getting on top of Callows, and throwing a punch into the man's jaw, but that turned out to be a mistake. Callows had reached around and found the knife in the small of his back and drew it. Danger escalated, Qrow backed up and finally got his feet under him. Callows now had two knives and his brain seemed to finally be working.

"You would dare interfere with our queen?"

Qrow rubbed at his jaw, panting. "Please, Haven's already proven it doesn't need an emperor, let alone some soother."

"You will not disrespect her!" Callows screamed.

Qrow held his stance, grabbed the wrist of one of the knives and turned, ducking out of the path of both and pulling the arm against the way the elbow was meant to go, forcing Callows to twist with it. Qrow used that to his advantage to flip the madman over his shoulder to the ground and pull the knife out of Callow's hand.

Back to being even. He stepped back, taking another moment to assess things. Ozpin was further away, leaning up against a wall, blood flowing from his nose, even as he pinched it shut. Where was the white witch bitch? Callows turned from fury to delight.

"Ahhh, I see, I see," he said, starting to giggle. "You aren't just some lover are you?"

Qrow gave a contemptuous huff. "And what the filth would you know, bootlicker?"

Callows actually relaxed his stance enough to lean back and start guffawing, a long, loud laugh that almost left him out of breath.

"Oh, how exciting! Not a pair of tumblers or lovers, but a pair of loves?"

Qrow didn't like where this was going, and shifted slightly so that he could move in a hurry. He took a deep breath and evened out his breathing.

Callows looked to Qrow, a crazy look in his eye, before he turned and dashed towards Ozpin.

"Oz!" Qrow shouted.

Where Callows ran around the table, Qrow launched himself up onto the round table and ran across it, diving into Callows again and setting them rolling. Qrow felt a slice down his forearm, and his own knife seemed to slice through cloth, but he wasn't sure he actually sliced flesh. They rolled into the wall again, and this time Qrow had the advantage. Callows was face down and Qrow immediately stabbed downward, but Callows bucked under him, throwing off his balance and instead he sliced through the coat again.

Defend us.

By the Light Brother's fye and the Dark Brother's filth, he would.

Oscar had some knowledge of the palace. Not as much as any of the guards that had monitored them, but he'd had more freedom of movement compared to the other soothsayers. He'd been to the garden, he'd been through several of the halls as Marrow had taken him out to the stables to go visit his father at the hospital. He knew several of the columns and pillars. What he needed however, was the workhouse. Specifically, the side rooms with the tools for maintaining a sand reader. He was going to pull this tiny basin apart and shatter the pieces. Salem wouldn't ever use it for making again. At this rate, Oscar rather doubted that Ironwood would be able to finish annexing Haven and Mistral.

All good things.

But this was the Imperial Palace. Oscar had no idea who knew anything about what was going on back in Ironwood's office, if any of the staff even knew that the Emperor was dead and had been for months.

He took a moment to catch his breath. Winter had said that the soothsayers were being held and refused to do any more saying. So the workhouse would be empty.

Perfect.

He walked quickly, looking like he had a purpose, and was pleased to note that the workhouse didn't have any guards since the sayers weren't there. Check the halls. Empty. Slip in.

Inside was dark. There was only one tiny row of windows up along the ceiling, that faced the morning sun. With it being well into the afternoon now, there was no actual light. Everything was in grays. Nodding to himself, Oscar used his knowledge of the layout to walk through carefully. In one of the closets that was used for the apprentices, he finally struck a match and lit one of the candles. The shelves were lined with all sorts of boxes of materials, most brought with all the soothsayers when they brought their readers for the war effort. Nodding, Oscar opened one of them and started digging through the tools.

No good. The tools were designed for a bigger reader.

He opened another box. Hammer and chisel? Perfect for breaking the stone of the basin, but he needed to disconnect the fulcrum first. He looped the hammer and chisel into his pouches in case he needed to go to one of the other rooms.

Still too big. Just how customized were the tools needed for this tiny little reader?

He was in his fourth box when he heard the door outside to the workroom open.

Oscar immediately shut the box and blew out his candle, feeling his way to the door and listening silently.

"I know you're here, boy."

Salem!

He crouched down, gripping his cane closely and trying to control his breath, putting the basin into one of his pockets.

"That reader may be useful, but only a powerful sayer can read the patterns of the world without a reader," Salem said, casually stalking through the workhouse. It sounded like she was coming straight through the rows of sand readers. "And I am the most powerful sayer of the generation."

Very cautiously, Oscar cracked open the door. Salem was indeed coming right towards him, her eyes glowing dimly in the darkness.

Insight.

Like Ozpin, she was keeping her magic open to let it draw her eyes.

Well.

Oscar gave a grim smile. He could do that too.

He took a silent deep breath and reached for his magic. Almost immediately, his eyes went to where he knew there was a candelabra. Pockets full, Oscar hooked his cane on his arm and carefully felt his way over to the candelabra, grabbing the long, thin pole, and hefting it easily. After all, as a gardener, he'd been moving pots all over the rooftop garden, to say nothing of being the one who needed to haul barrels of flour or salt. He was probably stronger than Salem, who looked to be pampered in her fancy court dress.

He stood at the door. Waiting.

Waiting for something.

The door opened and Salem was haloed in the dim light before her, expecting him to be hiding. Instead he yelled and swung the candelabra. She startled, eyes dimming, lifted her arms to block. It was enough to knock her off balance and Oscar swung again, pushing her out and then tossing the candelabra onto her. She was down on the floor, caught in her elaborate clothes, next to one of the shelves of papers and ink and Oscar didn't even need his magic to know that he could easily tip the shelves over on top of her.

Then he took off running again, through the workhouse and out the door, running as fast as he could.

He needed to remove the brass fulcrum to destroy the rest of the basin! How was he going to?

Qrow spared a moment to wipe his brow of sweat and glared across at Callows. Their clothes had been sliced, but given the colder weather, nothing had quite gotten through to skin yet, which was making this take way longer than it should have. Ozpin was behind Qrow, nose bleeding, and moving sluggishly, and Callows was also looking disheveled and irritated.

Qrow just kept glaring. Now that Callows seemed to figure out that they weren't just lovers, Callows seemed to focus less on Qrow and more on getting to Oz, putting him on the defensive. This couldn't keep going. Ozpin couldn't just run away, and his skin was looking damn near translucent.

Finally, Qrow took a breath and let out a long, shrill whistle.

Callows actually paused. "A whistle? Hah! What does that accomplish?"

Qrow just gave a cocky grin and prayed that any of his crows was close enough to hear that.

Behind him was a wet cough.

Callows laughed.

Then he threw a chair.

"What-?!"

Qrow fell backward, arms up to block the chair and getting caught in the openwork of the wood. That gave Callows a chance to slip by.

"Oz!"

Qrow struggled to get up and watched as Callows closed in on Ozpin. Then, just as Callows was within reach, Ozpin heaved up his bad leg, planting it firmly into Callow's middle, stopping movement and making the intended slash miss. Ozpin's bad leg, stiff as iron and unable to move, wouldn't let Callows any closer.

That gave Qrow the chance to race over, reaching out and grabbing Callows's braid and pulling. Callows roared and in one swift gesture, reached back to cut his own braid, leaving his hair an uneven mess. Ozpin started to crawl away again, coughing and still bleeding, but Qrow grabbed at Callows's shirt remnants, yanking and leaving the madman off balance. Qrow attempted to stab, but Callows danced away, shucking off the shirt and glaring.

"You keep defying the will of our queen!"

"That white witch bitch doesn't rule anything," Qrow growled back.

Callows howled and launched forward again.

Oscar ducked around a corner and took another moment to catch his breath. He carefully opened his magic, asking for any insight or direction. Nothing for the moment, so he let out a sobbing breath before working to even out his breathing. He needed to remove the brass fulcrum. He needed to in order to do anything. The marble would break if dropped from a high enough height, he just needed to throw it out a window, and he had no idea what the inlay was, but he could probably crack that with the hammer and chisel he'd pocketed, but he had to get rid of the cursed fulcrum.

How the filth had Salem carried this around? She had to disassemble it somehow…

He pulled out the reader and looked at it more closely. The brass work was incredible. It was netted around the marble, likely to prevent cracks or chips if it fell out of a pocket, and the fulcrum was held in a chunky base that made it hard to get a chisel into without pinching fingers.

Oscar opened his magic again, wondering how this was put together or pulled apart. There had to be a way…

But his eyes went to the corner and there was Salem, disheveled, fancy court garb ripped and covered in bits of wax, face smeared with ink.

And in her hand was the knife she'd used to stab Cinder.

Panic!

Oscar ran.

At this point he had no idea where he was, where he was going, anything. All he knew was that for all that he might be bigger and stronger than Salem, she had a knife. Oscar had never thrown a punch or fought anyone in his life, and she had no qualms stabbing her own apprentice.

Oscar didn't want to face that. He needed to break the basin!

Rounding a corner, his feet almost slipped right out from under him at his speed. He yelped and righted himself, hating that he just lost precious seconds as he took off again, hoping his longer stride could get him further ahead of her. He glanced behind to see if she was there.

"Oscar?"

That was all the warning he had before he ran right into someone.

He struggled to stand, looking around wildly, holding up his cane like a sword to try and figure out what happened.

"Easy there, pup, what's wrong?"

Oscar blinked. "Marrow?" He looked at the dark skin and the green Mistralan uniform. And the white Altesean uniform. "Winter?"

"Oscar, what's wrong?" Winter asked, face serious.

"Salem!" he said hurriedly, before remembering that they might not know the name. "The maker! She's chasing me, I have her reader! I need to destroy it!"

"Maker?" Marrow asked, but Winter's face went from serious to grave.

"You have her reader?"

Oscar nodded, brushing his hair out of his eyes. "But she's strong. Like Ozpin. She can see patterns without a reader." He pulled out the small basin. "I can't get the fulcrum off. She's got her magic open to guide her-"

"Boy!"

And there was Salem again, just as much of a mess as before, knife in hand.

Marrow automatically reached for a musket that wasn't there. "Fye and filth! Go! I'll hold her off."

"But Marrow!"

"I'm a trained warrior," Marrow said firmly, cracking his knuckles. "She's a pampered sayer."

Oscar could only nod.

"This way," Winter said. Together they took off and Oscar couldn't help but feel for how long he'd been running. Winter was fresh and it was work to keep up with her. She guided him through halls that were unfamiliar to him, ducked into a passage he'd never seen, and then took him to a workroom of some kind, with several doors entering into the space. A huge anvil and a set of bellows filled a corner and Oscar realized that the palace had its own blacksmith.

"Now," Winter said, "let's look at this basin."

Oscar set it down and finally sat down, hooking his cane over his elbow. "The fulcrum is in the way," he said, taking gulps of air. "I can probably break the inlay and the marble with the chisel I have but…"

"You don't have enough space for a good angle," Winter nodded. "Brass. Not copper. An unusual choice."

"Probably better for making," Oscar said, rubbing his face. He took a deep breath and opened his magic again, really focusing on the small reader. "What were you and Marrow doing?"

"Distracting Watts," Winter replied coolly. "My sister and her friends are rescuing the soothsayers as we speak, but Watts was always distrustful. He's been watching. But my switching of sides at the negotiations table has his full attention. He's been following me. So Marrow and I decided to use the break as a distraction. I just finished a long and loud argument with my father that drew many, many eyes. We were coming back to the negotiation table the long way to keep Watts busy."

"Well, he's certainly busy now," Oscar mumbled, feeling around all the edges. At last, his fingers ran over something, and his magic hummed. "Oh," he said, shutting down his magic for a moment. "I think…."

He pushed down at the top of the fulcrum and twisted to the left. Nothing. He twisted to the right and ah! Give. He yanked at the fulcrum's base and it slid right off.

"Finally."

Winter took the brass, glanced around the smithery, and then dropped the brass into the scrap brass bin and buried it.

Hammer and chisel. The inlay broke in three strikes, almost shattering, and Winter dumped the bits into a different scrap bin. All that was left was the marble disk of a base, braced in brass netting.

"A chisel won't shatter marble," Oscar said, finally feeling like he had his breath back. "It's small and thin, but the brass netting…"

"A great height," Winter said firmly. "That ostentatious grand staircase in front of Ironwood's war room goes up almost three flights. Drop it from the banister."

Oscar nodded. "I don't know how to get there from here," he said.

To that, at least, Winter gave a soft smile. "I do. Come on."

Qrow watched Ozpin out of the corner of his eye. He'd left a trail of blood as he went to the doors opening to that grand staircase, somehow had reached up, and was attempting to exit the war room.

That was fine for Qrow. He was still keeping the crazy Callows back. With Callows down to a thin shift that was just as tattered as his clothes had been, Qrow knew that slicing and stabbing would be easier, but the bastard was slippery. Every time Qrow thought he had him, Callows seemed to slip away.

Behind him, Ozpin gave another wet cough.

Callows laughed in delight and ran straight at Qrow.

What the filth?

Knives were about distance and slashing! And this madman was charging like a bull!

Qrow held up the knife, braced himself, and with the collision, tripped backwards over Ozpin's cane. They fell backwards and Qrow felt a sharp sting along his chest, above his waistcoat. But that didn't matter, since he was able to dig his own knife up into Callow's armpit.

They quickly split, pulling away to lick wounds, but Callows was laughing hysterically.

"I've wooooooon!" he crooned. "You just don't know it yet!" He laughed again, dropping the knife and holding his armpit. "I've won! My queen, I've won!"

"Dark Brother's filth you've won," Qrow grunted, reaching up to tap at the cut along his chest and collar bone.

But Callows kept laughing. "It won't be long now! Once my knife tastes blood, victory is absolute!"

What the filth- Poison. Callows kept his knife poisoned.

Qrow laughed. He stood tall, tilted his head back and laughed.

Callows glared at him. "Why are you laughing?"

"Dumbass," Qrow said, holding up the knife he'd been fighting with. Because it wasn't Qrow's knife. He'd been fighting with Callows's knife.

Callow's paled. "What? How? No!" He looked down to the knife he had dropped. Qrow's knife.

"You had two knives," Qrow said. "I grabbed one of them. You never paid attention to which one."

"Noooo!" Callows tried to get up and lunge, but between whatever junk that knife had been lined with and the deep stab that Qrow had managed, he did nothing more than stumble.

Qrow threw the poisoned knife away, and leaned forward to pick up Ozpin's cane. He was going to need it. Then he strolled over to Callows and took his knife back.

Qrow was exhausted. He hadn't had a brawl like that in years and he was apparently getting too old for this filth. He walked through the door to the grand staircase, finding Ozpin at the bannister trying to catch his breath between wet coughs.

"Oz," Qrow said, plopping himself down beside his lover.

"...qrow…." Ozpin said weakly. "...too much magic…."

"Oz?"

Ozpin's face was smeared with blood, still sluggishly leaking from his nose, but he leaned over to cough and blood splattered on the floor.

"Oz!" Qrow pulled Ozpin to his lap. "Oz, what should I do? What's going on?"

"...the Grimm….too much magic…."

Like the glowing sand basin. He'd extended himself too much.

"Hold on, Oz!" Qrow said, holding him close. "We've almost got this won."

"Oz!"

Qrow looked up to see Winter and Oscar running towards them and behind them, looking almost like a Grimm herself, was the witch bitch, blood leaking from her nose and mouth..

"Kid! Behind you!"

Winter turned immediately, put herself in front of bitch, and proved that she was just as much a trained warrior as a soothsayer, using witch's own momentum to flip her over. Oscar ran up to the bannister, pulled out some sort of disk, and threw it out into the open air over the massive grand staircase.

"...perfect…" Ozpin whispered.

"Oscar! Move!" Qrow shouted, gently putting down Oz to race forward again.

"Noooooooo!" the witch bitch screamed, lifting skirts. Her eyes glowed a hideous red. "I will not be harmed!" she shouted, probably making, and she jumped up onto the bannister, and leapt off of it, after whatever that disk had been.

Qrow made it to Oscar and pulled him back from the edge of the bannister, listening to the witch bitch scream the whole way down before landing with a hard, splattering thud.

There was silence.

Oscar stared, half bent over the rail of the landing, at the broken marble of the maker basin, and the broken body of the maker herself. Her last shout, I will not be harmed, had such a huge rush of magic he could feel it from so far away as she leapt off the railing for her basin, trying to make the leap safe for herself. In doing so, another limit to making had been discovered:

One could not make the impossible.

He shook, still a little high on his blood, as five crows flew in from somewhere, Ruby and her friends bursting in. "Uncle Qrow!" she shouted. "The crows are-!"

"Stay back, Ruby!" Qrow called down, and Oscar turned slightly to see he was moving down the steps. "That's the white witch bitch!"

Ruby froze, hands up at her shoulders, as Yang and Weiss eyed the body. Blake was darting up the stairs, "Oscar! Are you alright?" and he watched as Qrow stalked around the body, knife in hand. His knees gave out, and he leaned on the rail, still sucking in air, but unable to turn away, desperate to know if they were really safe.

Qrow moved in slowly, his good clothes torn and one arm bloody from whatever fight he had had with Callows. His prowl took him closer and closer before he crouched down, examining the body. Then,

"Fye and filth!" he cursed, snapping back in surprise - no, they weren't safe yet! - but Qrow spun his knife around and plunged down into the chest. Oscar heard an inhuman grunt, and all at once he was yanked away, the bright and dark Pattern consuming his senses, pulled to this very moment in the Pattern, and there in its ethereal beauty was the pattern: Justice, Balance, Return. This is the price of crossing our Domain. This is the result of interfering.

He jolted back to his body and collapsed, blood spurting from his nose, but he didn't pass out like last time. He stared at the elaborate ceiling of the palace, a little lost that he had seen, seen… the… was that the Brothers… themselves…?

"W-what was that?"

Oscar's eyes drifted, saw Blake at his side, on her knees, holding her head. She also had a small drop of blood slide down from her nose. Still a little shaky he tried to roll over and get up. He saw Ruby and the others, spread out on the steps, also with nosebleeds. Did that mean they saw…? His eyes moved over to the other side of the staircase, his fa-

Ozpin was collapsed on the floor, blood on the floor by his head just like… just like…

"Dad!" Oscar scrambled to his feet, every step shaky, and half crawled over to his father.

Ozpin's face was streaked in blood, but not from his temple like that horrible night of the fall. Rather, it was from his nose, an apprentice nosebleed from overextending himself. Oscar almost felt better for that knowledge until a ghostly wet cough erupted from his chest, and with it more blood. The bleeding cough? Like his aunt…?

"Oz! Oz! Dad!"

His father reached up weakly and Oscar took his hand, panicking and uncertain what to do. Their eyes locked, and for once today Ozpin's eyes weren't glowing. He was pale as a ghost, deathly white, just like his aunt and Oscar felt even more fear. His hand squeezed, and he moved his mouth, trying to talk. Oscar leaned in to listen.

"... I… choose… to… stay…"

Oscar hummed, tears leaking out of his eyes, and nodded. "I choose to stay, too," he said. "I love you."

"... love… you… too…"

His eyes closed, coughing again, and Oscar wasn't really sure he could handle any more.

"Oz!"

Qrow was there, kneeling next to Oscar and pulling at his father, stretching him out. "Yang! Get over here! Help me clear his airways!"

"On it!"

The former solider was there, she and her uncle shifting Ozpin even more, giving them space, Yang lifting one arm up over his head and then rolling him to one side, Qrow shoving a leg up, some kind of recovery position. Qrow slapped Oz's back, two hard blows, and Ozpin coughed again before taking a jagged inhale. His grip on Oscar hadn't broke, and in fact he squeezed, curling slightly into himself before he breathing finally, finally, evened out.

"Marrow, where's Marrow?"

Oscar looked up, finally able to pull his eyes away from his father, saw Winter rubbing at her nosebleed, Weiss at her side and checking on her. "He was trying to stop that witch…"

Ruby, finally up the stairs, gestured and a crow cawed and disappeared, flying down the hall and banking; Winter followed after a brief glance to her sister. A different crow landed on Qrow, ruffling its feathers before fluttering over to Oscar. He recognized the bird as the one that had been sent to him during his draft. "What happened?" she demanded, silver eyes a little wild. "The crows acted like you whistled for help and then that lady was on the ground and then that weird thing just appeared - what was that thing about justice and balance? Where's everyone else? What's the general doing?"

"The general is dead," Qrow said, rubbing his lover's back. "The Emperor's guard stabbed him because he was working for the white witch bitch. So was one of the apprentices, and she got stabbed, too. Don't go into that room, it's a mess of bodies."

"Bodies?" Ruby said, a shiver skittering over her body. "Are we about to be arrested? Should we be getting out of here?"

"Soon as we know we can move Oz," Qrow said, turning back to his lover. Oscar looked down at his father, leaned in to listen to his even breathing.

"This is a disaster," Blake said, and Oscar realized dimly her arm was wrapped around his shoulders. When had she gotten there again? "This is a disaster! What are we supposed to do?"

"We tell the truth," Qrow said, "A third party came in and started killing people. Where the hell even were you girls anyway?"

Ruby, Weiss, Blake, and Yang all shared a look. "Uh," Ruby said, hand lifting up to hold the back of her head. "We may have been… uh… freeing the soothsayers?"

"You what?" Qrow demanded.

"It was the most obvious thing to do," Weiss said primly, crossing her arms. "Winter said it herself, they were all confined to quarters, and Blake and Winter and Oscar all talked about how intractable the general is so it was the most obvious thing to do. Blake knew where they were barracked and Winter and Marrow kept that Father and that man Watts occupied." She waved her hand in a dismissive gesture. "They're all in the stables right now, hiding in our carriage. We were going to send them down the mountain but then Ruby's crows started cawing and… well…" Her eyes drifted over the railing, to the body below.

"... that's my girls," Qrow said, a feral grin on his face. "Tai would be proud of you."

"He's coming around," Yang said, sitting up.

Oscar's eyes snapped back to his father, and he leaned forward, putting weight on his elbows so he was the first thing his father saw. There was a low hum, not quite a moan, and his brown eyes fluttered open, unfocused.

"... Dad?"

His eyes locked onto Oscar, and he smiled, squeezing his hand. Oscar released a breath he didn't know he was holding, and Yang and Qrow helped his father sit up. Blake pulled out a handkerchief to wipe at his bloodied face, and he took it gratefully with a shaky hand. Then, barely above a whisper,

"... is she truly gone?"

"Yeah, Oz," Qrow said. "The bitch is really gone."

Oz nodded, his eyes drifting away, numbly cleaning his face. In Valean, again barely above a whisper, "... she was my only family…"

Oscar realized his father was mourning, even after everything she did, and he reached up and pulled him into a hug. "Not anymore," he said, squeezing. Ozpin dipped his head into his shoulder, and Qrow leaned in, a hand on his betrothed's back.

Author's Notes: D'awwwww that last bit.

This week's chapter brought to your from our first ever (forever) house! Weeeeee!

So. What to say here - not really sure 'cause it's all up there on the screen, but we tried to give everyone something to do. RWBY move to rescue the soothsayers, Marrow and Winter act as distraction, and of course Oz, Qrow, and Oscar have the heavy lift of stopping Salem. Tyrian is his lovable sadistic self, and Salem is creepy as hell with glowing red eyes and unerring knowledge of where Oscar is because of her open magic. Oscar's obvious goal is to break her tiny reader to make using her gifts harder, and Qrow obviously is to defeat Tyrian, and Oz is just trying to stay alive as the Grimm actively tries to kill him via Tyrian and the only way to do that is to keep his magic open for the slightest bit of insight.

Lots of POV changing to keep the editing "sharp," per se, and we hope it reads well. Gosh, we've enjoyed this fic so much - in might be our favorite even over Defining a Life. The fic started as a half baked idea shared in the car: a period drama with Oz as a soothsayer. Mirror immediately latched onto the idea and I wrote the prologue as a proof of concept. Then, poof, here we are. We hope you enjoyed the ride!

Epilogue: The family goes home.