I wasn't sure whether to let this one lie with "Dear Katherine" or stay for the afterparty. Here's what I had planned for the epilogue. After this, I plan on taking a break until September when the next season starts.

Until then, however, read, smile, and review... one last time.

15. Epilogue - Risen

"Every new beginning comes from some other beginning's end." -- Seneca

Knock, knock, knock…

"Hello? Hello?"

Don tried to ignore it, tried to focus on the red beauty that haunted his sleep, but found himself hard-pressed to. Sighing with annoyance, he rose from the couch gingerly, stretching with some discomfort and making his way to the door. The living room was festooned with lame, ancient decorations, paper pumpkins and plastic skeletons leering down at him from the walls and ceiling, making him wince with the memory that he himself, in a restless frenzy, had put them up.

The door opened to reveal a badly-dressed ghoul and a kid in black dressed up like a skeleton and begging to be hit by a car. He flinched at the return of his headache as they launched into sugar-crazed song.

"Trick or treat, trick or treat, give us something good to eat!"

He blinked at them blearily. "What?"

"Don't you have any candy?" asked one with suspicion.

It was then that they noticed it; he could tell by the way their eyes met his, or, at least, one of his. In fact, their eyes couldn't meet at all, or at least not the one they seemed so fascinated with. This was due to the fact that it was concealed between a black strip of cloth. Discreetly grinding his teeth, he waited for them to say it, and one of them obliged him.

"What are you supposed to be? A pirate?"

For a minute, he wanted to lift up the eye patch and give them a good glare with his injured eye, but at that moment, Charlie arrived with a bag of candy with which to satisfy the young extortionists, and with a few choice words, none of which were 'thank you', they left.

"Why Halloween?" groaned Don, slamming the door. "Why does it have to be Halloween?"

"Oh, come on," Alan said, peering through the drapes lovingly at the little hooligans as they went. "Look at them. They're free, they're happy…"

"…and they're TPing our house," finished Charlie, briefly joining Alan at the window before his father tore out of the house to fend off the amateur mischief-makers.

Rolling his eyes, Don shut the door more gently this time and started to make his way back to the couch, where waited a bowl of once-hot soup, some saltines, and an inviting sorts event blaring in heavenly HD from the TV. Charlie moved to help him, but Don waved him off. The last week had robbed him of three things; his job, his sanity, and his private life. All temporary losses, true, but in the meantime, he would rather leave his pride intact…

"You okay?" asked Charlie with concern. As much as Don had hated his forced medical leave, he couldn't help but appreciate all the things Charlie had done for him. After two days of acting as a fetching boy for Don in the hospital, Charlie had offered him a couch and free food in the altogether more accessible Craftsman home. He'd even had the common courtesy to hide all his case files so Don couldn't fixate on them, the ultimate 'positions reversed'. Collapsing onto the couch, Don considered how seriously to answer the question.

"I'm fine, Charlie," he managed to pull off with grace. "Just a little tired of hearing the same jokes, that's all."

"Right." Charlie turned toward the kitchen.

"Grab me a beer, would you?" Don asked casually.

"Not with the pain medication, the doctor said," Charlie shot back. It was a constant struggle between them, but this time Don had a new twist up his sleeve.

"I'm not taking my medication anymore, so get me a beer."

Charlie turned and eyed him in a way that was almost motherly. "What?"

Don tried to shrug it off. The news wasn't eliciting the reception he'd expected. "I'm not taking my pain meds anymore."

Another tense moment passed as Charlie stared at him hard, his hand on the door to the kitchen. Then, very quietly, he said, "you don't have to do this, Don."

"Do what, Charlie? What am I doing?"

"You don't have to beat yourself up about Katherine Lawson."

"Oh, here we go again…"

"I'm serious, Don. It was fifteen years ago, and this whole little scheme of Sean's at least gave her family some closure. Now it's time to move on."

"Come on, Charlie, you of all people should know; this is in my head. I can't just stop thinking about it." Charlie still looked unsympathetic, so he decided to fight dirty. "This is more than a math problem, Charlie. Have you ever watched someone die and known it was your fault?"

Charlie fixed him with a look. "Yes, I have, Don. You were legally dead for thirty-two seconds in that ambulance."

That shut him up sharpish. Charlie's voice softened.

"Whatever you did or didn't do, it's done now, and you have to realize that. Larry could have a nice long talk with you about the impossibility and danger of changing the past." A couple of icy seconds passed, and then Charlie, almost innocuously, added a little salute and a quick, "matey."

Then he turned tail and fled into the bowels of the house as all 100 sum-odd pounds of well-rested, SWAT-trained flesh and muscle heaved itself off the couch to pursue him. It was this sight to which Alan Eppes returned to the house, and the bad mood the hooligans had left him with was almost immediately replaced with a smile as he watched his sons bounding up and down the stairs, around the house in great loops, even venturing out into the backyard. He only called off the festivities when the furniture's well-being was threatened, pulling three beers from the fridge with which to bait his trap. Eventually, they found themselves all on the couch, animatedly watching the last few minutes of the sports program. Clicking off the TV with a sigh, Don absentmindedly ran a hand through his hair.

"It's nice to have you home, Donnie."

"Nice to be home, Dad."

Just then, one the dining room table, a phone began to buzz. It was Don's, and when he pounced on it, the caller ID told him it was Megan.

"Gotta take this one, guys," he said, hoping he didn't sound to triumphant. Flipping it open, he pushed his way into the kitchen as he answered.

"Eppes."

Patiently, he listened to the call, waving off her apologies about the lateness of the hour, her intrusion into his personal recuperation time, and her deepest regrets about it being a holiday. Finally came the part he'd been waiting for, the part when she admitted she'd come across something they really needed him for, had no idea how to go about it, and could he please come in. He gave the usual reply.

"Yeah, I'll be there in like—" he fumbled around with his watch as a formality, "—twenty minutes, okay?" Click.

Grabbing his keys, he pushed back into the living room, where Alan and Charlie waited for the verdict.

"Sorry, guys, I gotta work," he admitted. "Some corpse Halloween decoration turned out to not be a decoration."

He swept out the front door with the usual hurried goodbyes. Sliding into the front seat of his SUV, he was just about ready to fire up the engine when a movement out by the koi pond made him stop. All he really caught was a flash of red fabric and a blown kiss, but he pulled out of the drive with a secret smile, sensing the end of one thing, and an inward frown, sensing the beginning of another…

FINIS