* * * Epilogue * * *
Back and forth. Back and forth. Back and forth. Same track. Same path. Same constant motion. Nothing changed.
The close walls stared him down, mocked him. They were so stained with dirt and blood that you could hardly tell they had once been white. There was a slit in the wall that some people might call a window. It was impossible to see out of because it was so foggy.
The room was bleak and bare. Nothing astounding or unusual about it. It looked like every other room of its kind. Dirty walls, dirty floor, dirty human inside.
He sat down on the cot along the wall, taking a break from all the pacing. That's all there was to do. Sit and pace, sit and pace. Eat when the food came and take a nap every now and then. Life was monotonous and continuous and boring.
At least he had his mind to keep him entertained.
But lately his mind seemed to be against him. He couldn't quite describe it, but the feelings he had been having lately were different than normal. And yes, contrary to popular belief, he had feelings.
He sighed and ran a hand through his spiky hair. Halfway through he stopped, letting his fingernails dig into his scalp. Then he buried his face in his hands, hardly knowing what to do with himself.
No matter what he tried to think of, he always came back to the same thoughts. The thoughts about his family. What a strange word: family. Why did he even care? It's not like he ever did before.
There he went again!
Alone in a small room with his thoughts. Ah, there was something he could think about! Alone. He was alone.
He was a menace, they said. Too dangerous, they said. Not violent, like the others. Not angry, like the others. But rather crafty, cunning, wily; he was too smart for them. So that's why they locked him up in here. Completely and utterly alone.
At least his clothes weren't orange.
Unlike most others, he was capable of keeping his sanity even during long periods of isolation. Every now and then cries could be heard from outside; cries from those in the same position as him. They weren't as strong. They broke. He wouldn't break.
Not like he broke his family.
Again!
What was it he was feeling? Why was his mind so bent on reminding him of his past? Why couldn't he shake these irritating thoughts?
Was this a mid-life crisis? An awakening? Or a bunch of random, meaningless emotions caused by too much time by himself? He was prone to believe the last option.
But what if it wasn't? What if his conscience was really trying to tell him something? He had been ignoring it for so long, he supposed.
Finally he sighed in defeat. Let the thoughts come. Let the memories come. He bowed his head, ready for whatever happened next.
The way he had broken his brother.
He had memories from times long ago. He and his brother were geniuses together; they built things together; they worked together. They were inseparable, the best of friends. Their bond was so strong that they survived the hardships of a fledgling business . . . together.
But something happened in that time. Something he couldn't explain. Or, maybe he could. It was one emotion. One hard, hurtful, hateful emotion. He supposed it had always been there; looking back, it was always there. But that didn't excuse it.
Jealousy.
He stood back while his brother won the awards. He stood back while his brother got the praise from their parents. He stood back while his brother did this, did that, was praised and honored and applauded while he stood behind the curtain. That stung.
Did that excuse what he did? He didn't want to answer that question. He did something illegal, something immoral, just for attention. He could've done so much with them, but his brother just had to ruin it. That was when he snapped. His brother wouldn't be the one in the limelight anymore. He took his brother away, not to be seen for many years. He treated his own sibling like a criminal – no, worse than a criminal. And he knew it.
The way he had broken his kids.
It was the atrocity of atrocities. One did not simply hurt his own children. Many people saw it as a terrible crime – because it was. For years he excused it with the fact that they were his experiments, not his kids. But that didn't make it any better.
As they grew and matured he became painfully aware of . . . of their humanity. They were not simply test subjects that could be controlled and manipulated. They were complex human beings with emotions and feeling and ambitions and passion.
So he fed them lies – lies that they were not humans. His youngest became the brunt of that. He called his son some awful things, because perhaps he wanted his son to be those things. He didn't want his son to be human. Humans were wild and free; they had passion and desire and feelings that just couldn't be squelched. So he told his son that he was a monster. That he was a weapon.
He knew very well that those were lies; his son was much better than that. Much better than him. But he wanted his son to be those things, so that's what he told him.
And it wasn't just his youngest son, either. His daughter and his eldest also received terrible treatment. He sold them – sold his children – to people he knew were not very good. He allowed them to get hurt and didn't ever second-guess his decision.
Even that robot meant something to him. The android had been carefully crafted, even if he never worked to extend his life span. And he had been loyal . . . at least, for a while.
The way he had broken himself.
When most people looked at him, they saw a criminal. Because, like it or not, that's what he was. He was a dirty, rotten, no-good waste of space that shouldn't even be alive.
He deserved it. He deserved all this. He knew it.
He couldn't help but wonder how life would've been different if he had heeded the warnings from those around him – especially his brother. He wouldn't be sitting in a cold cell right now, rethinking his entire life.
He was broken too. Others couldn't see that. They only saw his faults. He was a bad person, so no one would give him sympathy. They looked at him with upturned noses as if to say, "Keep wallowing around in your sorrow, because you're certainly not getting any help from me."
They judged him; hated him; denied him. No one knew his thoughts. No one knew that if given a second chance, he would change everything.
Or, would he?
He thought he would. He hoped he would. But at the same time, he didn't know. He had gone through the stages of regret before. He had thought many times, "Today will be the day I turn this all around." But he never did.
Pushing his children to the limits gave him a kind of satisfaction. He had experienced so much pain and suffering in life. It made him feel better to know that others could suffer too.
He himself could not predict what he would do the next day. Perhaps tomorrow he would regret his regret. He couldn't say. It was one of the joys of being him.
For now, however, he was sure of how he felt. He was regretful and ashamed of what he had done. This wasn't a ruse. If given half the chance, he would apologize to everyone he had hurt.
But he was never getting out. Not ever. It was too late for regret. Nothing would change now. He was stuck in this dirty room with a monotonous routine that he had better get used to. He couldn't change anything.
Or could he?
"I'm sorry," he mumbled into his fist. Hey, it was a start. He knew he would never get to say it to their faces. They were done with him. He didn't need anyone to tell him so. He couldn't blame them. He had broken them completely.
So Douglas Davenport murmured his apology in the dark, plain, cold cell. A cell which was to be his home for the rest of his miserable life.
47 chapters. 151,957 words. 687 reviews. 79 follows. 109 favorites. 32,440 views. And that's only at the writing of this author's note. This epilogue will be another chapter and add even more words to that. Wow. Just wow. Both IAM and IAW have made into the top ten most reviewed stories in the Lab Rats archive. I'm not saying any of that to gloat; I'm saying it because I want to sincerely thank you all. Writing can only pay off when you have good readers, and boy, did I have the best out there!
Thank you to Scribbler123, Lady Cougar-Trombone, Death-Sama01, Dreaming about the Stars, rosslynchR5loverforever, klausgirl4055, TheBritishWannaBe, beverlie4055, shanzlol, thewriterswayoflife, gg180000, amichele, AllAmericanSlurp, shinxshinx1595, xxWasabiWarriorAlertxx, Criminal Minds Love, LordHelen, Ra'Zara The First, SamiBrit14, ms. nick jonas, MoonlitShadowsoftheHumanSoul, IamSHERlocked221b, tiff.n.b36, poofpickle, ShamrockClover, rotanrm, DisneyXDGirl, Tenacious Surrender, dreamer4evera, Lover chocolate and ice-cream, ilovebreedavenport, Avengers13, Abnegation Ravenclaw, KrisKat, RossLynch4ever, bionicgirl990, Jesusfollower97, dmandec, Percyjacksonfangirl11, UltimateRobinFan, unknownfangirl10, Devil in a white dress, soccermonkey413, Shonashee, BigTimeRusher12, labratslover, sravyak13, Doclover, LBozzie, Asha Davis, Mia-Teresa-Davenport, Scrappy42, RissA15, LabGirl2001, ChristianCountryGirl, Tie Dye Pencils, Dirtkid123, TheMeepyFreak, DFTBAAIDLLTWBAP, SuperFanG1rl, horsecrazierthanyou, ilfsmtiwts, PurpleNicole531, Thatcrazyfangirl1, Phantom EH, tennisgirl77, Snooptastic, j. liz. 8, Percy-Jackson-is-the-best-ever, the-amateur-with-an-idea, musicdreams31, AriellaHart, TheMichiganWriter, LRLover333, Tor Raptor, POPZIT, and sunya the ramen addict for reviewing.
Thanks also to all my amazing guest reviewers: Vampire Girl, Anonymous, maddian246, PJO-obsesser, Layra, Karly, SmilingActess101, m-dawg, Chase, Bree, Whoa, soccerlover24, emilee, Kate, angel, Guest 101, daphrose fan, Unikitty101, valiantgirl3, Angel1234, shadow demon, MexicanSwagg, Someone, Elexis, daphrose fan 2, and everyone who just signed themselves as "Guest."
I would love to write a little special message to each of you individually, but . . . *looks back up at list that already took an hour to put together* . . . can you forgive me if I don't? I'm still going to say from the bottom of my heart . . . THANK YOU! Some of you only said 'love it,' some of you left long, detailed reviews about what you liked, some of your reviewed only once, some of you reviewed every single chapter, but every single one made me smile so much. I can barely write this because of all the tears in my eyes.
Thank you also to all of my silent readers. I know you guys exist because I used to be one myself. I really hope that you liked the story as well.
Thanks to everyone who has stuck with me this far. I can't believe that when I'm done editing this chapter and uploading it, I'm going to click on that little 'complete' button and it will be all over. I'm a Weapon was published on April 23rd. That's just over five months ago, and not long after I joined, either. You know, in five days it will be my half-year-anniversary on this site? WHAT?! It seems like forever ago and yesterday that I joined. I've made amazing friends, read some spectacular stories, and genuinely grown as a writer. I look back at the prologue of IAW and laugh; nowadays I would've written that so differently! But you guys seemed to like it, because you read it and stuck with it.
Man, it sounds like I'm saying goodbye forever! Don't worry, that is certainly not the case! I'm only getting started on this site. Sometime in the following week (hopefully) I will be posting a story called "The Strange Case of Chase and Spike." It is ten chapters long and I will upload one chapter every night until it is completed. No long waits on that story! Sometime soon I will be uploading a story called "We Deserve Freedom." If you're a fan of dystopian societies (such as those in The Hunger Games or Divergent), then you'll like this story. It's about Bree's daughter and the world they live in. I hope you'll check that out when I post it! (Probably in a few weeks; or maybe sooner!) I am still planning to make a sequel to "Just Another Girl," but that's still a ways away. I'm focusing on other things and I'm having trouble with the plot. If anyone wants to help, feel free to PM me! My point, though, is that I'm not going anywhere anytime soon.
I hope that you'll review this chapter, because, even if it's over, your reviews still make me feel so happy. I appreciate your feedback more than I can say. I'm so glad that you guys have enjoyed reading this trilogy. I have enjoyed writing it. I'm going to miss working on an I AM story. It will be so weird!
"What would have happened if Donald had failed to rescue Adam, Bree, and Chase from Douglas?" – That's how this whole thing got started. One simple little question that became a massive plot with the best readers in the world.
Long author's note, wow! I hope you're still with me. XD
THANK YOU AGAIN! For the very, very final time, I do not own Lab Rats. I hope you enjoyed this small little trilogy I wrote for you guys. Feel free to review; they make me smile. :3 I hope to see you guys on another new story! Follow/favorite me for more. Thank you again, and, for the last time, GOODBYE! :')