A/N: I'm sorry it's taken so long to update, been busy with school, etc. But, I only seem to have one reader anyways, so... not many to disappoint, huh? Thanks to Endless Raindrops, for being my faithful reader/reviewer :)


Epilogue

Twenty-Four Years Later

Peaks Island, Maine

"You know, you don't have to do this now, Mike," Alice told her nervous younger brother, who sat beside her in the passenger seat as rain spattered the windshield.

Mike wrung his hands, casting an anxious glance out the window at the small colonial-style house they were parked across the street from. "I don't have to do this at all," he replied. "But I'm going to, and it's going to be today."

"We have all the time in the world," she told him with a smile.

"Yeah, but she doesn't."

"Point taken. But are you just going to sit here and do nothing all afternoon? Because, if so, then I have—"

"Some shopping to do, no doubt," he finished for her, staring at the mailbox reading Jarred.

Alice grinned and tried again. "If you are just going to do nothing, then I will kick you out of this car, and you can sit in the rain until I come back to pick you up."

"Oh, what the hell," Mike grumbled, throwing the door open and stepping out into the downpour.

Alice rolled down the passenger-side window, calling, "I'll be back at seven, okay?"

"Got it," Mike nodded. "Thanks for bringing me, Alice."

She gave him an encouraging smile and drove off, her taillights eventually disappearing into the gloomy weather. Mike grimaced up at the sky – his hair was already soaked as he headed across the street towards the house. There was no car in the driveway and no lights in the windows, so he sat down on the porch steps to wait and to get his thoughts in order.

For the past two and a half decades, he'd remained exactly the same. He'd repeated high school and college more times than he liked to admit, and knew all the courses backwards. He and the Cullens had moved from place to place, living in Alaska, Washington, Canada, and countless other places shrouded by clouds and rain. The superhuman life really wasn't all it was cracked up to be, and Mike wanted nothing more than to see the hair on his temples go grey. Two weeks ago he had celebrated his forty-fourth birthday, but time had kicked him off the wagon, leaving him to watch as the world changed around him. And now, he waited.

The rain streamed off the porch roof in rivulets, splashing on the stone-paved walk at his feet and soaking the bottoms of his pant legs. Finally, an old minivan turned into the drive, and Mike stood up, shaking the water out of his hair and off his leather jacket. A little brown-haired girl, about four or five, jumped out of the back seat, running up to the house but stopping in her tracks when she saw Mike.

"Who are you?" she asked bluntly.

The woman who'd stepped out of the driver's seat walked up behind her, resting a protective hand on the girl's shoulder. "Can I help you, sir?"

"Mrs. Jarred?" he asked, ignoring the fragrance of their blood with the ease of practice.

"Yes?"

"Might I have a word?"

She frowned apprehensively at him, and said, "Grace, go inside."

"But—"

"Don't argue with me, go inside. I'll be there in a minute, okay?" Once the girl had disappeared into the house, the woman stepped up onto the porch next to Mike, keeping her eyes level with his. "What is it that you want?"

"I'd like to talk to you."

"About what?" Her eyes narrowed at him suspiciously. "Are you the police? IRS?"

He shook his head. "No, I'm not an official."

"Then who are you?"

He let the formal façade drop completely. "It's me, Rachel," he said, his eyes turning pleading.

Her eyes widened slightly, but she said, "I'm sorry, I don't know you."

"It's Mike," he insisted.

Her lower lip trembled, and she shook her head vigorously. "Look, I don't know who you are, but I'd appreciate it if you left."

She circled around him towards the door, but he reached out and placed his hands on her shoulders, forcing her to look him in the eye. "Please."

"What the hell are you doing?" she asked, her voice low and trembling.

"What am I supposed to say, Rachel?" he asked. "What can I say to convince you? That you used to steal the candy from my Easter basket every year and Mom never caught you? That I got you a doll for your eighth birthday and you threw it at me, screaming that you wanted a baseball bat?"

Her eyes widened even further, and she backed away from him. "I don't know what the hell you're playing at, but you'd better get the fuck off my property before I call the police."

"Please don't do that, Rachel," he said. "Look, can we just…sit down for a bit? Hear me out. Please."

Her fearful eyes brimmed with tears. "I'm going crazy," she whispered after a long silence.

Mike shook his head. "No. No, you're not."

Hesitantly, Rachel reached up, her hands caressing his face. "You look exactly the same…" she said, almost to herself.

"I am the same."

"But you…you were dead," she said. "God, what happened to you?"

Mike smiled slightly, reaching up and taking her hands in his. "It's a very long story," he sighed, his voice heavy with regret. "I'm so sorry, Rachel."

Tears were now streaming freely down her cheeks. "Why didn't you come back?" she sobbed.

"I wanted to," he told her. "I was dying to, really, but…" He trailed off, not wanting to tell her the truth.

"Mike, it's been almost twenty-five years since you disappeared! What was so damn important that you couldn't come home?!" she cried. "Do you have any idea what you did to us?"

"I know, I'm so sorry," he repeated. "Please, Rachel, you have to believe me when I say that I couldn't come back."

Now, Rachel turned furious, yanking her hands out of his. "Bullshit!" she shouted, still crying. "You could always come home! But instead, you pulled a Huckleberry Finn and ran away! What the hell were you thinking?"

Here, Mike's jaw dropped slightly. "You think I faked my death?"

"Mommy?" a small voice interrupted. Mike and Rachel both turned to see little Grace just on the other side of the screen door, watching their fight with wide eyes. "What's going on?"

Rachel sniffed, wiping her face on her sleeve and opening the door, guiding Grace back inside. "Go up to your room, sweetie. This man and I are just going to talk for a bit, okay? Just go play in your room."

After Grace had gone upstairs, Rachel returned to the porch, her lips clamped together as she tried to stop them from quivering.

"She's beautiful, Rach," he said.

"Thanks," she replied tightly. "She looks like her dad."

Mike shook his head. "She looks like you."

"Stop it," Rachel said. "Just tell me one thing: after today, are you going to disappear again? Because, if you do--"

"I'll visit as often as possible," he interrupted.

"Why didn't you before?"

"It wasn't safe."

"Safe? What—?"

"Safe for you."

Rachel stopped short at this, regarding Mike with a frightened and worried frown. "Do I want to know what you're mixed up in?" she asked slowly, imagining all sorts of the worst scenarios she could think of: drug running, gang wars, FBI nonsense.

Mike looked pained. "No, you don't."

"We can get you help," she said, continuing even though Mike was shaking his head unhappily. "We can call the police; whatever you've been caught up in—"

"No, Rachel, stop."

"Mike, we can get you out, I promise—"

"No!" Rachel shut her mouth, taken aback by his unexpectedly fierce response. His features softened again and he hung his head. "I'm sorry. Just don't…don't make promises you can't keep. This is for good."

Rachel swallowed visibly, having no idea what he meant but hating the truthful strain in his voice. Whatever this was, she knew that he didn't deserve it.

"Look, Rachel, I want you to do something for me," he said. "This needs to be kept a secret; for your sake as much as mine. Pretend you never saw me. I'll come back soon, I promise."

He checked his watch, and just as the hands turned to indicate seven o'clock, Alice's sleek black car pulled up once again to the curb. Rachel frowned at it, unsure of what to think or do. "I have to go," he said, drawing Rachel's gaze back to him.

"Who is that?" she demanded.

"I have to go," he repeated, heading down the steps.

Rachel's hand reached out and pulled him back. "Wait, Mike," she said, her eyes brimming again. With that, he wrapped his arms around her, hugging her fragile human body as tightly as he dared. "I'm so sorry," he told her quietly.

"I love you," she choked out.

He kissed her gently on the forehead before breaking the embrace and walking towards the car, casting one last sorrowful glance over his shoulder before climbing into the passenger seat. Rachel didn't bother to hide her crying as the car pulled away, eventually disappearing round the corner and heading west, towards the dock where the ferry would take them back to the mainland.

"Mommy?" Grace called again from inside.

Quickly, Rachel wiped all traces of her tears away, sniffed, and prayed that her eyes weren't too red before going back in. "Who was that guy, Mom?" her daughter asked.

"Just an old friend, sweetie."

"Is he gonna come back?"

Rachel paused before answering, and came to the heart-wrenching realization that Mike had lied. Don't make promises you can't keep, Mike's voice echoed in her head. But that's exactly what he'd done. This evening had been his chance to say goodbye before he vanished completely; something that hadn't been given to either of them the first time around. She would never see him again.

She could barely muster up the words, "No, I don't think he will, hon," before she began sobbing.

~END~


A/N: Woot! Finally finished! So, review, and then look at the next chapter, which is the original oneshot I had written, with its alternate ending.