Author's Note: Well, I guess this is it. The end of the story. I want to thank everyone who ever reviewed to this, and who followed the story up to this point. You guys are too wonderful for words.

I also want to thank my beta, and my best friend, Laurie. There's no way I would have gotten to this point without you. Your guidance has helped me evolve so much as a writer. Thank you.

Currently I am working on a sequel to this fic, though ideas for it are sketchy at the moment. It might take me a few weeks to get the first chapter up, or it might come up in a week. You never know. Anyway, enjoy the conclusion to 'With Enemies Like These', and again, thank you!

Disclaimer: I don't own Sky High, or any of its canon characters.

Chapter Fifteen and Epilogue- "No One Ever Said It Would Be Easy..."

I was home. Or rather, the street that led home. I took off my black flats and carried them in my hand, slowly walking up the sidewalk with nothing but stockings covering my aching feet. I was tired, too tired to think, or cry, or do anything. It was the first time I felt something that close to normalcy in over a week.

It wasn't until I got to my house and was standing inside the gate did I notice that there was someone on the front porch.

It was Warren Peace. He was wearing a formal black shirt and matching pants. His hair was tied back, which made it easy to see the small cuts and bruises on his face. I knew I must not have looked any better. Being painfully reminded of the three long rows of stitches in my left cheek, I couldn't help but wince slightly.

When he saw me, he stood up straighter. His face was grave, reflecting a hollowness that I felt. He had been there at the funeral though he kept his distance. I saw him standing among the oak trees, looking on at the ceremony.

Now seeing him here on my front porch, Warren stood out- a terribly sharp reminder of everything that had brought us up to this point.

A deep silence hung in the air before I spoke. "Hi."

"Hi," he echoed.

"How's your father?"

"Uh… well they cut him up pretty bad. And Jana did a number on his heart, killing him so many times and bringing him back. But he'll live."

"That's good," I said softly.

Warren glanced at the floor, looking vaguely hesitant. "I…my dad…we wanted to thank you. For helping him. I mean, you didn't have to."

"Yes I did."

He looked up sharply at me. "No, you didn't," he said sincerely. "That's what I don't get Arrian. I mean, why? Why would you do that, after everything he's done to your family?"

I stared at him, confused. I thought it was obvious. "Because," I murmured, "it was the right thing to do."

Warren's face flickered with an expression I couldn't identify. Then he exhaled at length. He didn't say anything else for a while.

Sighing, I sat down wearily on the steps, placing my shoes beside me. Warren joined me. My face must have betrayed my emotions because it prompted Warren to say, "Arrian, it's over. There's no use torturing yourself. Few people ever get it right the first time. And mistakes happen."

"This one cost me a life."

The tears came suddenly and I quickly turned my face so that Warren wouldn't see. Mercifully, I was able to blink them away and as I did so, I heard him say quietly, "It won't always be like this. I mean once you've finished training-"

"I'm not going back." The words flew out of my mouth before I could stop them.

There was a pause. Then Warren said in a low tone of disbelief, "What?"

I closed my eyes, bracing myself. "I said I'm not going back to Sky High. I can't do this anymore, Warren. I thought I could, that I could really make a difference. But I can't bring myself to…" I shut my eyes tight, trying to will away the horrible memory of watching my cousin dying before my eyes. "I can't bring myself to hurt anyone else, even if they are a villain."

For a long time there was no other noise, except the ridiculously cheerful sound of birds singing somewhere. Then Warren spoke.

"If that's your decision…then fine. Can't say that I agree with you. The fact is, you did make a difference. You saved my dad's life." He sighed and leaned backward, resting his elbows on the top step. "It's too bad. You have so much to offer the world."

"Then tell me it'll be better than this!" I said sharply. "Just say that being a Hero, fighting evil, having to kill people if necessary- that it'll never feel as horrible as this and I'll believe you."

"You know I can't do that. I'm not going to lie to you." His voice was harsh. "Arrian, no one ever said it was going to be easy. But you weren't given this gift by accident. Whatever your choice is, nothing's going to change who you are."

Suddenly he got up and made his way down the steps. It was when he reached the gate that I called after him.

"That's the thing about Heroes, isn't it? For all the good we do and the people we save…we rarely get our own happy ending." I glanced up at him. "Maybe we're not meant to."

Warren gave me a long thoughtful look. "I think we are. We just have to fight for ours a little harder than everyone else."

Epilogue

On my desk stands a picture. A picture of a nine year-old Anna, posing with her ten year old cousin, Paul. Big grins, arms slung around each other's shoulders. There were no powers to worry about back then; no care about villains and heroes. It was just us and childhood dreams about how we were going to make the world a better place someday.

I wish… that I had protected him.

But I failed, too distracted by something so silly, so meaningless as-

"…that project, that stupid project!" I screamed. With an angry shriek, I throw the picture across the room. The glass shatters noisily against the wall. The sound brings me back to my senses. In horror, I run to the place where it fell.

The glass is ruined. Gently, I brush the shards away and pick it up. I carry the photo carefully to my desk drawer. As I do so, I think about what Warren said to me today- about choices and making a difference. My life has taken a tragic turn and two choices now lay before me: to abandon my hero heritage and pursue a life of normalcy and safety. Or to choose the other way…the way of sacrifice, of selflessness… the way of dark adventure.

I place the picture inside and shut the drawer. No longer a promise of better times. It's only a piece of paper now- a memory.

The End