A/N: Okay, this is officially it for An Inconvenient Truth/As Truths Dovetail. I cannot believe that in the span of one month, I managed to crank out two complete fics of pretty decent length. I'm a little sad to see this wrap but I'm also really excited about new possibilities. I have so many things inside me waiting to me told and I'm sort of proud that I finally was able to start getting the words down and putting them out into the world. I vividly remember making up stories about the cartoons I watched at age 5 (Josie and the Pussycats heyyyy) and then reading my first fic online at 12 (Han/Leia heyyyy) so this really is a long time coming. I wish I could personally thank every creator (of both canon and fic) that not only helped me write, but also gave me something to write about and enjoy when canon (and real life) sometimes really sucked. Also, Rainbow Rowell's Fangirl was groundbreaking in that it put the world of fic into an actual mainstream novel. That was huge for me. Other inspirations for this series (besides those already credited in past A/N) include Tess Sharpe's Far From You (read it, it's the best), U2's With Or Without You, Fleetwood Mac's Gypsy, Beyonce's Love on Top, and The Killer's Human, only because these songs repeated in my head for reasons unknown as I wrote fervently this month.

What's next? Probably a post-Season 2 Jane/Maura endgame and maybe some MSR on the horizon. The X-Files fandom intimidates me a bit (you guys are so talented, what is left to even write?) but I've got some stuff percolating.

As for this epilogue, you really need to finish An Inconvenient Truth for it all to jive. There's not much M here apart from a few adult references. It's very family-oriented, very reflective, and hopefully very satisfying. I'm writing this in a warm house under a blanket in the midst of a quiet snowstorm, and I hope that this story brings those vibes straight to you.

All credits to the original creators. I do not own these characters (although I can confess that I've had a decades old crush on Maura Isles) and I will not profit off this piece (except in pride). Thank you all.

August 2040

Natalia usually liked packing. Packing was a combination of two of her favorite things, order and careful planning along with adventure and excitement, but today she was starting to feel like she'd had enough of both. In just a few days, she and her mothers and Liam and Jacqueline would load up the car full of all of her crap and start the relatively short but symbolically long ride to college. It figured that something that Natalia had worked toward and look forward to for so long was now an unsurprising source of melancholy. God, melancholy. Her AP English teacher would be so thrilled.

Natalia abandoned her suitcases and sterilite containers in her bedroom and headed stealthily for the attic. She'd taken to sneaking up here regularly over the past few years when the stress of school and sports and the occasional family discord started to get to her. The attic was an odd place to gravitate to, but with three kids, more and more of her mothers' things had relocated here over the years, and Nat liked to distract herself by sifting through the remnants of years past. Today, she was on a particular hunt for a fancy filing box of old pictures she knew had been stashed among the neat piles. They seemed like the best way to cope with all of the change that she knew was about to dive headfirst into over the next week.

Nat sighed with relief when she spotted the box, right in the place where she'd last left it, and settled cross-legged on the floor to sift through them. Maybe she'd take a few of her favorites and make copies for her dorm room. Or take a few photos on her phone so that she could look back on them when she felt especially homesick. Despite the tension in her body, Natalia could feel herself loosening up as she pulled out the first, and oldest, stack.

Nat could picture these photos as clearly as if she had been alive when they were taken, although they clearly were from years before her birth, she'd look through them so many times. She could even spot her Uncle Frankie's photographer's eye in the shots, especially once he'd started taking her out for casual photography outings when she'd gotten her first serious camera two years ago. But the real stars were her mothers - her young, beautiful, breathtaking mothers. There was her Ma holding her cousin TJ while her Mom laughed easily beside them. Here was a Christmas morning, both of them sharing a blanket and drinking coffee on their old couch. Nat never doubted that her mothers had the sort of love that was unlike anything she saw with anyone else, her friends' parents, even with her uncles and aunts, but finding these pictures years ago were even more living proof than the reality she'd live in for almost 19 years.

"Nat?" Her mom's voice called gently from the stairs, startling her out of her thoughts. Natalia swore, not as silently as she should have, as she whipped around to find Maura standing behind her, arms crossed in disapproval but a small smile on her face. "This does not look like packing."

Nat sighed. "I needed a break."

Maura crossed the attic and settled herself beside her daughter, subtly searching her face and assessing her voice. Nat was on edge, excited about college and terrified of what she'd be leaving behind. Maura could understand that all too well. She reached out to touch Natalia's cheek gently. "Breaks are okay. You must really have needed one to be up here." Maura chuckled at Nat's sharp look. "Your Ma figured this one out years ago."

"Figures," Nat grumbled. Having a former detective as well as a Mensa-level doctor for mothers did not make for an easy adolescence. She and Liam and Jacquie could never get one over on either of them. She looked carefully at her mother and pushed the box of pictures in front of her. "I came up to look through the pictures before I left."

"So that's where these got to," Maura mused as she flipped through the stack Nat handed her, smiling as the memories came back to her. "Your ma was a little bit too zealous with the cleaning out when Jacquie was born. I swear, I'm still missing shoes."

"How could you even know?" Natalia mumbled just loud enough for her mom to hear. Maura's shoe collection was a running source of family jokes. Maura had learned to take it in stride.

"I think you've seen most of these anyway," Maura continued, pointedly ignoring Nat's comment and causing Nat to grin despite herself. "We have a lot of these in frames."

"Not all of them." Nat pointed to the one of Maura, beaming at someone just outside the shot. "You were looking at Ma here, weren't you?"

"What do you think?" Maura raised her eyebrows at her daughter, causing her to blush. "Your Ma is the love of my life," she continued softly, looking down at the pictures framed in her hands. "I think somehow she's in every picture, even the ones where she isn't physically present." Maura shook herself out of her reverie as she considered the other stacks in the box. "And those are…"

"Newer," Nat supplied, reaching into the box and pulling out rubber-banded packs. "Well, newer than those. Some are of us when we were little and there's some of you pregnant and Ma pregnant." She pulled out one of Maura and Jane, arms wrapped around each other in their kitchen, Maura's tummy clearly rounded out and smiles on both of their faces. "Was this one with me or Jacqueline," she asked a little shyly.

Maura studied the picture carefully. "You. We're definitely younger here. Plus, I carried so differently with Jacqueline, I was convinced she was a boy. I was so much bigger, do you remember?"

Nat leaned into her mother's side, looking at the picture closely. "Kind of. I mean, I was old enough to remember a lot but not all of it. But more than I do with Liam."

"You were only four when Liam was born but you were ten with Jacquie," Maura remembered. "So that makes sense."

"I remember little things," Nat said softly, letting Maura stroke her hair. "More, now that we're talking about it, I guess. I remember going to one of Ma's ultrasounds and how you let me bring the sonogram to show-and-tell. And with Jacquie, you always let me feel her kick."

"She kicked a lot," Maura smiled at the memory. If someone had told her nineteen years ago that she would give birth to not one, but two, of her and Jane's daughters, she would have laughed. In fact, nineteen years ago, she was just weeks away from her due date, tired, apprehensive about labor, anxious to meet their baby, their Natalia, and just so over being pregnant that she probably would have denied that she'd ever do it again. Jane was up next, they'd decided, and then they'd probably be done. But fate and baby fever and excitement intervened, and Maura had been pregnant a second and final time. "Did we scar you for life by letting you in the delivery room?"

Nat laughed a little, but ducked her head, overwhelmed a little by the emotions of that memory. "I remember begging to be there, so if I am scarred, it's not your fault."

"So you were scarred by it," Maura groaned playfully. "Does that mean no grandchildren in our future?" She rethought and backpedaled. "Not immediate future, mind you."

"Jeez, no worries. Trust me on that." Maura could physically feel Nat's shudder and held in a laugh of her own. "It wasn't that bad, anyway. I didn't, like, see anything too gross and you were like a complete rock star. I don't even remember you screaming."

"That's because I screamed myself hoarse with you," Maura joked, enjoying the look of horror on her daughter's face. What fun were kids if you couldn't mess with them? Jane had taught her well over the years. Sure, they had smart, hardworking, well-behaved, well-mannered children thanks to both of them, but they also had fun, carefree children who were light and quick to laugh, and that was mostly thanks to Jane. She'd had a lot to learn in that department and Jane had taught her well.

"I'm kidding," Maura soothed. "I didn't scream with either of you. I don't want you to think that either of you were this awful thing I had to endure. But I would have, if I had to, if it meant getting you both here. And your Ma feels the same way about Liam. We would have done anything to get the three of you here safely."

"It was pretty amazing," Nat admitted. "Even though I was pretty young. You and Ma were both so calm. And you were just so...steady even though you had to push for so long. And when Jacquie came out finally and they put her on your belly...I don't think I've ever cried so hard."

Maura thought back then, losing herself for a moment in her memories. The pressure between her legs as the contractions came harder and faster. Her ten year old up near her head whispering sweet words of encouragement while Jane stood near her waist, one hand holding hers as the other stroked her bare tummy as she pushed. The words she'd babbled softly to Jane as she felt her body stretch and their daughter making her way into the world. And the moment of sweet relief when it was all over, her newborn on her chest and her wife and oldest child in tears beside her.

"It's probably why the two of you are so close," Maura pointed out gently. "And maybe why you're having a hard time packing."

Nat let her mother hug her tighter as the tears bubbled unexpectedly in her eyes. "I'm excited to go," she whispered, more into Maura's neck than anything else. "I've wanted to go to Columbia for, like, forever. But I don't want to leave any of you."

"Oh, baby," Maura kissed her daughter's forehead, tears in her own eyes now. "You're not leaving us. There will always, always be a spot for you right here. You're ours and we love you so."

Nat was comforted, but only slightly. "But you and Ma and Liam...it's different. I can call you and text you and video chat and Liam can come visit…"

"That remains to be seen. I'm not sure if letting a fifteen year old visit a college freshman in New York City is a wise idea." Maura's mom voice was truly a work of art. Sometimes she was proud of herself for that. She, Maura Isles, former Chief Medical Examiner and Doctor Death, had a mom voice.

"Mom!" Nat rolled her eyes and pulled back a little, but gave in when Maura kept a steady hold on her, tugging her back to her original spot nestled into her side. "I meant that Jacquie's still so little. It'll be different than her. She doesn't even have her own phone."

"Nice try, Nat. Jacqueline isn't getting a phone." Jane's voice echoed behind them before Maura could even answer, causing both of them to jump and then giggle a little.

"It wasn't a try," Natalia said defensively as her Ma came over to sit on her other side. "For the record, I don't think she should have a phone either. She's only nine."

"I seemed to remember a certain nine year old begging for a phone. Right Maur?" Jane winked at her wife, but sobered as Maura gazed forcibly back at her. "But anyway. This is less about Jacquie and a phone and more about you being afraid of being separated from your shadow. Am I right?"

Nat rolled her eyes in such a way that Maura hid a smile while Jane resisted the urge to roll her own eyes. Natalia was so, so Maura so much of the time, but in moments like these, she was pure Jane. Jane finally could admit that her mother was right...she had been handed her due when Natalia was born with all of the sass and sarcasm of a mini Jane Rizzoli. God help them all. "You're right," Nat admitted. "But you two don't have to do the telepathic mom thing. It's weird. It will never not be weird."

"We do not have telepathy, since scientifically it cannot even be verified that..." Maura began before Jane cut her off.

"Your mother and I would have to...ahem...exchange telling glances if you did a little more talking and a little less going in circles." Jane caught herself and was careful to soften her tone. "You know that we can't help you if you don't talk."

Maura squeezed Nat's shoulders again, making up in a way for Jane's directness. "We like talking around here," she encouraged gently. "And it would probably make you feel better." Jane would be the first to admit that she and Maura had had a lot to learn about the whole parenting gig, even as two pretty smart, experienced women, but one thing they were pretty sure they'd mastered was open communication. They'd taken all of the lessons they'd learned over the ups and downs of their relationship and channeled into it into their family. Jane and Maura made sure that their kids talked about feelings and saw them talking about feelings, plus all of the hard stuff that came along with it. Jane and Maura had been age-appropriately open about IVF, and about how they'd use Maura's eggs along with a combination of Frankie and Tommy's sperm for all three kids. They'd unpacked the complicated relationship that Jane had with her father when he passed away suddenly when Jacquie was only two, and they were open with the kids about why they hadn't seen very much of Grandpa Frank over their lives. Maura had explained her own tangled family tree as the kids became old enough to ask questions about why they had three grandmothers and why their mom and Aunt Cailin hadn't grown up together.

Their openness had paid off. All three of their kids, diligent, serious Nat who was often plagued by emotional teen issues, relaxed Liam who was facing puberty in a house of females, and little Jacquie, still young enough to struggle with a feelings vocabulary while wise enough to be grappling with issues of empathy and kindness among her young peers, were refreshingly transparent. Jane and Maura had no doubt that their kids had their own secrets, especially as teens, but for each moment that one of them had asked a direct question or shared a difficult truth, they were proud. The two of them more than anyone could appreciate both the beauty and bravery of truth-telling. And they'd weathered some tough ones over the years. Nat asking at fifteen if they each preferred the children that they'd actually given birth to over the others. Having to give the sex talk to Liam at nine when the talk in the boy's bathroom turned raunchy, and then having to respond to a horrified "But...wait, then how do you guys do it?" after Maura had explained, delicately but technically, how exactly men and women have sex. And then having to reprimand an emboldened Nat who had piped up with a "I think the other boys in the bathroom probably explained that already" as the two of them had sat shell-shocked, half amused and half horrified as their nine year old screeched and their thirteen year old grinned triumphantly. Jacquie asking why a little girl at her school thought it was wrong that she had two moms. But as always, they muddled through, and at the end of even the most challenging conversations, they always found that their kids felt better. And they did too.

Nat took a deep breath. "I guess it's not anything specific. And not anything that I can, like, solve or do anything about. I'm ready to leave but I'm scared about the actual leaving part. I want things to change but I don't want it to all at the same time."

Jane squeezed Natalia's knee reassuringly. "It is normal to feel that way. And it's okay if you're...not okay for a while. These things take time."

"We will always be here," Maura added. "We will not leave you or forget you. And your brother and sister aren't going to either. That will never happen."

"It sounds silly when you say it like that."

"Well, maybe that will help a little then." Maura smoothed her daughter's hair back as Jane put her arm around them both. "Maybe you can remind yourself when you start thinking all these things that it's not as dire as it all seems."

"That's why I came up here to look at the pictures." Natalia sniffled. "They help me when I need to...center myself. I don't know how else to describe it."

"That's what you were doing all this time?" Jane reached for the box. "I always thought you were scoping out my unparalleled baseball card collection."

"Those are pretty cool," Nat agreed, moving out of Maura's arms a bit so that she could peer over Jane's shoulder as she flipped through the stacks. "I went through those first before I found these."

"You could have kept these in your room," Maura pointed out as Jane kept flipping through, watching the expressions flash across Jane's face at each one. A quick flash of arousal at one of Frankie's old pictures of Maura, framed in a doorway in a form-fitting dress with her hair up in a French twist. A look of sweet nostalgia of the two of them on their wedding day, holding hands in their courtyard. A small smile at a photo of the four of them, pre-Jacquie, standing together at the beach, Jane and Nat both holding Maura's pregnant tummy with Liam posing before them, oblivious to everything but the camera. A wider grin at Liam, walking in front of Jane as she held tightly to his little hands. And - was that a tear? - a tremulous little look at a much-younger Nat curled on their sofa, eyes focused on a newborn Jacqueline in her arms and tucked into Maura's side, Maura's arms around them both. What a life they had. Twenty years past the most defining year in both of their lives and this was where it found them.

"I know. But there was something about bringing them downstairs that seemed...I don't know. When I came up here to look at them, it was like looking into a different world somehow."

"But it's your world." Try as she did, Maura was still so literal. "A lot of these are of you, or are of your lifetime."

"I know, I know. I can't explain it. But those pictures of just the two of you...they seem so private. We don't even have many of those around downstairs. And I liked knowing that they were just mine to look at if I came up here. It was like a part of the story that only I could see."

Jane cocked her head at her daughter, the pictures spread before her forgotten for a moment. "You know that we'd tell you any part of the story - our story, your story - that you want to know," she offered gently. "You don't have to sneak up here for these like stolen glances into the past. That's what your mom and I are here for."

Nat wrapped her arms around Jane's waist then, sighing as her Ma's arms came around her and anchored them close together. She felt her mom's hand stroke her cheek as the tears nearly bubbled again. She really was a mess. "I don't even know what else to ask. You guys have always told me anything I wanted to know. I just liked knowing these pictures were here and that if I needed to...have some of them with me to remind me of things when I was gone, I could."

"You wouldn't be the first person to use these in that way," Maura mentioned softly, seeking out Jane's eyes as her hands stroked her daughter's face. "A long time ago, when your Ma and I were finally figuring out that we wanted to be together, your uncle sent us each those pictures to...jump start things a bit."

Nat looked intrigued. She had never heard this story before. "Did it work?"

Jane snorted. "You're here, aren't you? You and your little shadow and your network-hacking brother? You guys wouldn't be here if it hadn't. It didn't work right away, but when it did...boom." Jane could always tell a good story. "Together, Married, Baby #1, all in the middle of a global pandemic."

"I always forget I was a corona baby." Nat wriggled a little as Jane tickled her side teasingly.

"Not a corona baby," Jane corrected, mock-sternly. "Fully planned, one hundred percent anticipated and on board for, pandemic-be-damned, completely healthy, beautiful little girl. Our first baby." Her eyes misted then as she watched Maura's face, seeing her own emotion mirrored there. "We both wanted you so badly. I'd dreamed about you forever."

Nat ducked her head a little, afraid of her next question. "But how did you know it was me," she whispered, Maura and Jane both leaning to hear her. "And not your first baby?"

Maura's eyes flew to Jane's, but saw that Jane was not the least bit bothered. "Because," Jane answered sweetly. "I meant it when I said I literally dreamed about you. About your mom pregnant with you. Even before I had the courage to admit I loved your mother and wanted to be with her forever, in every way, I used to dream about you. And us. You helped anchor us all together. And no matter where you go, you will always, always be that for us."

Maura scooted over then so that Nat was cradled between them both as their daughter's tears began to fall. "Just let it out, honey," Jane soothed. "You'll feel better if you just let it out." So they sat together as Natalia's tears flowed steadily, then slowed with just an occasional hiccup.

"Why did you name me Natalia," she asked, the only question left that she could possibly come up with. Somehow, like always, her mothers had managed to get to all of the things she felt but couldn't even put into words.

Her mothers exchanged another telepathic glance before her mom answered her. "We talked about a lot of names," Maura said slowly. "With all sorts of different meanings and references to our history and our families and our ancestry. We picked Natalia for you because it was a connection to Italy - to your Ma and the Rizzolis and the family that adopted me in as one of their own - and because Natalia means Christmas Day or Christmas child."

"I knew that it meant Christmas, but I wasn't born on Christmas so I thought you just liked how it sounded."

"You weren't born on Christmas, no," Maura explained. "But we found out that you were coming right before Christmas in 2020. That year was so hard in so many ways, but for your Ma and I, it brought so many gifts, and finding out about you, that I was pregnant with you, right before Christmas...it was like the greatest gift I, we, could have ever had." Maura's voice thickened as Nat hugged her fiercely. "I always saw you as my Christmas baby, so your name...it just fit." Maura felt Nat's tears on her collarbone and hugged her closer.

"What about the other two?" Nat's voice was muffled and Jane could see that her eyes had closed against Maura's shoulder and that Maura was still a bit worn herself. She'd field this one.

"Well, Liam is Irish, as you know. We wanted to honor your mom's heritage, even though she wasn't particularly raised Irish, because she and I kind of honored it in our own way."

"Like how we always make a big deal about Saint Patrick's Day?"

"Exactly. And we both liked Liam so that was an easy one. And Jacqueline...your mom and I went to Paris together on a long trip, a little less than a year before we got together for real. That trip was a big part of us finally becoming who we were supposed to be, and since we had Italy and Ireland represented, it seemed like France was the logical choice for our last baby."

"I never knew Jacqueline was French."

"We argued a little about that," Maura interjected, narrowing her eyes a little at Jane half-jokingly. "We almost named your sister Madeleine, but we could never agree on how to spell it or pronounce it or if we wanted to nickname it or how to spell the nickname and whether the nickname would take over the original name. So we gave up. Jacqueline was your Ma's peace offering after I was hormonal and moody about whether it was Mad-e-line or Mad-e-lynn."

"I actually sort of remember that," Nat laughed a little at the memory. "I remember Ma coming home with a giant "J" balloon after you had been in a bad mood all day. I don't think you ever explained it to us though...I never understood why a giant J made you feel better."

Maura stuck her tongue out at Jane as Jane laughed with their daughter. "I was very pregnant," Maura said, mock-dignified. "And very hormonal. And very afraid that our baby was going to sit in the hospital without a name."

'It was good timing," Jane agreed. "You went into labor that next morning, didn't you?"

Nat sat up a little and wiped at her eyes. "Mom went into labor because you guys argued? Yikes."

Maura averted her eyes, blushing a little as she remembered herself. "Well...not exactly because of that," she answered delicately. She smiled at Jane as their daughter put the pieces together and screeched.

"I did not need to know that," Nat gasped, hands actually going over her ears. "Oh, wow, that's...um. A lot. Thanks for that."

"Honesty hour is over for now?" Jane reached for Maura's hand, smirking at Nat still cringing between them. "Come on, Nat, you're like all grown up now. Gonna be nineteen in a few weeks. Weren't you the one who broke the "our parents have sex" piece to your brother?" She laughed as Nat continued to sputter.

"Knowing it and...saying it, visualizing it are two very different things," her daughter argued hotly as she started to put the stacks of pictures back in the box. "And Mom was pregnant. And then Jacquie was born. Eck. I can't even."

"You seem to be feeling better," Maura commented as Jane pulled her to her feet. She reached down to offer Natalia her hands, pulling her up next to them. "Disgust seems better than sadness, I think."

Natalia reached out for them then, surprising Jane and Maura both as she pulled them into a group hug. "You guys could never really disgust me," she admitted, now that she didn't have to look either of them in the eye. "You've definitely tried enough though."

"That's what moms are for," Jane joked, squeezing Nat and Maura both. She pulled back a little to kiss her daughter's head. "We meant what we said. We will always, always love you. And this will always be your home." Jane gently disengaged and walked toward the stairs, giving Maura an extra second with their oldest.

Maura gave into the urge to hug Natalia to her again. She had Jane to thank for so much of this. How much of her life had Maura spent before Jane, aching for physical contact and totally unsure of how to go about it. To ask for it. To initiate it. Jane had gave freely and taught her how to give freely in return. And she'd found, as each of her kids were born, that it wasn't just Jane that she could touch and hold and comfort. Maura had found joy in the physical affection between all of them, in raising kids in a home where love flowed freely in words and actions, where "I love you" was a constant phrase and hugs and cuddles and gentle touches were the norm.

"Some things won't always be the same," she said clearly, conscious of her daughter in her arms and Jane lingering near the stairs, both taking in every word. "And that's good. If things had stayed the same for your Ma and me, this wouldn't be our life and we each would have missed out on so much, namely the three of you. What your Ma said will never, never change even as other things do, and that's okay. You're going to get older and do new things and need us differently than you do now. And that's the beauty of it. If we didn't have change, we wouldn't grow, and the growing...that's what's beautiful."

Nat felt the tears coming again. She hoped that maybe she'd seen the last of them for awhile because the crying was getting old. She squeezed her mom's waist one more time before easing back to kiss her cheek, then bending to put the reassembled box back where she found it. Natalia reached for Maura's hand as they headed for Jane, feeling like a little girl and a real, true adult all at once. Maura didn't comment but just held tight.

"Wait a minute," Maura thought back on their conversation as the three of them headed downstairs out of the attic. "Network hacker?"

Jane looked grim. "That's actually what I was coming up to talk to you about. The high school called. Looks like someone wanted a different teacher for Honors Precalc."

Maura groaned. "Not again. Where is he?" She squeezed Nat's hand before following her wife down the hall. "I swear, he is going to get it."

Nat watched as Jane reached for Maura, their hands now entwining as they both headed downstairs to the main floor. "Definitely your genes. No computer hackers in my DNA pool."

"Jane, that is hardly the point."

"I'm just saying. It's like getting mad at the computer science version of yourself."

"Except that I didn't use my powers for evil."

"Powers? Well, Doctor Isles, aren't we full of ourselves?"

"You know what I meant. Jane! Stop. That tickles. Come on, we have to go yell at our kid."

"'There's plenty of time for that. I promise." The giggles that carried up the stairs and back to Natalia made her smile and roll her eyes all at the same time. No matter where she went or what she did, there would always be a place for her right here.