A/N: For the final time, I own nothing! Please review!

Epilogue:

6 months later…

Rachel has just given an interview with the press. She has done an excellent job of keeping up appearances in public and in interviews. She shows her pretty face at meetings and she does not change her appearance too drastically anymore. She hasn't been caught whoring herself off either. She gives every indication that the surgeries and the drugs and all were just part of a youthful phase, and that the responsibility of running the massive company has matured her.

Rachel is even more revered than Rodger for her seemingly mystical ability to juggle being the CEO of the largest and most famous organ transplant company, and grooming herself to become a singer like Tabitha. She appears to be in control of herself at last.

Philip also seems to be in control of his life. He still murders people that he feels threaten the family. He also still stabs random genterns and fucks the holes. But he does it considerably less often than he used to. Sometimes he seems positively docile in fact, something that was never true of him in life or undeath.

So who has wrought these changes in the Largo family? Who is the brain behind this metamorphosis?

Greta sneaks quietly into a dark warehouse. She's on a mission. There's a spooky voice in the background. "A needle… into a bug, a needle."

A single ray of light illuminates Talbot. A rope is wrapped around his ankles, suspending him upside down from the ceiling. His hair hangs down almost to the floor. His eyes are closed. Greta takes another step, making a soft noise. Talbot's head snaps up a bit.

"Who's there? Stay back!" he hisses softly.

"Do you have my cure?" Greta whispers.

"Kid? Is that you?" Talbot asks.

"I'm here to earn my cure."

"Your cure? Is that what this is about?" he asks. Greta nods. "Sorry… That fucking Rachel cleaned me out."

"But maybe later?"

"I'll hook you up later," Talbot promises. "Just help me down."

"The drug…"

"Yeah, the drug. Yeah?"

"The cure, it's…"

"The drug. Help me down. I'll score some."

"Help me shed some…"

"Kid, I'm out."

"Some?"

"I told you."

"Light on?"

"That's the situation."

"The situation?"

The pair began chanting softly together. "Into a bug, a needle… into a bug, a needle… into a bug, a needle… into a bug, a needle…"

"How about…" Talbot began, then stopped.

"Yeah?" Greta whispers.

"She's right beside you."

Greta looks around nervously and sees a hooker lying on the floor, apparently dead. "No, I need the Zydrate…"

"No, I'm out of Zydrate."

"No, it's like a nightlight."

"The beautiful…"

"You don't mean…?" Greta looks shocked and horrified. Whatever she has been doing up to this point is not as bad as harvesting secondhand Zydrate from a dead body.

"Yeah."

"You do mean…"

"So easy."

"I don't think…"

"Don't think."

"That I…"

"Just smack it."

"I guess I see."

"She won't. You've got to smack it to score…"

"A needle…" they whisper together. As they whisper together, Greta grabs a syringe from Talbot's bag which is lying on the floor underneath him. "Into a bug, a needle… into a bug, a needle… into a bug, a needle… into a… bug." Greta kneels down next to the whore, but just as her fingers touch the woman's face, her eyes snap open. Greta squeaks in surprise and falls over backwards. The whore jumps up and runs off. Greta is silent for a moment, and then manages to jump up and cut Talbot down.

Talbot manages to flip over and land on his feet since his catlike reflexes are fantastic. He bends over to look in Greta's eyes. They are haunted and fearful. Talbot utters a tired sigh and puts his arm around her.

"How have you been?" he asks her calmly.

"I've survived," she says simply.

"Come with me then. Let's find you something to eat. You'll feel better in the morning."

She says nothing, but follows behind him obediently.

"You know, I've been looking for you," Talbot says at last. Greta stares at him in surprise. "Didn't you ever wonder why I took you under my wing when you first started leaving the house?"

"Well… no…" she admits.

Talbot smiles. "Well… I knew your father. But that's a story for another time. Now let's go."

And the pair of them walk off together, Talbot holding Greta gently. She rests her head on his shoulder, feeling comfortable and safe for the first time since her father's death.

Rachel skips happily from her big fancy CEO office. It's a prop office, with all the trimmings. The real business happens in the smaller functional office next door. Rachel hurries in to find a fresh vial of brilliant blue Zydrate sitting on the desk waiting for her.

"Time to head to the recording studio?" Ebon asks her from his seat at the desk.

"It sure is," Rachel says, snatching up the bottle and the syringe. "Thanks for the Z."

"Come back when you're ready for the next dose, dearest sister," Ebon says with an affectionate smile. He doesn't mind keeping her supplied with liberal amounts of Zydrate. As long as she has plenty of the drug, she is willing to abide by her brother's rules… for the most part.

"Thanks little brother," Rachel squealed, giving him a peck on the cheek. This is actually even stranger than it sounds, somehow. When Rachel lost her face on stage the night her father died, Ebon suggested selling the face for charity. It gave the family some excellent publicity, especially when Ebon himself bought her face to wear. But for Ebon, the best part was that he was able to identify other people who could be threats later, with the amount of money and the desire to cultivate public goodwill that indicated that they had a chance to topple the Largo dynasty. And then Philip simply teared up in front of his brother, whimpering that he wanted Rachel's face for himself and mentioning that three other bidders were going to defeat him. Philip's thin ties to family loyalty emerged and he slaughtered the other bidders to please his baby brother.

Now Philip enters the room, holding the door open so his sister can pass. He sits down at the desk across from Ebon.

"You know, she's still picking up that street crap."

"I know."

"The tabloids are only in love with her now because they think she's turned over a new leaf… applied herself to the business and all that."

"True."

Philip frowns at Ebon. Ebon has an innocent smile on his face. Only Ebon knows why Philip is so much calmer. Ebon has secretly dosing Philip's food and drink with a cocktail of sedatives and mood-altering drugs so that he isn't so volatile. When his mind is fogged, Philip becomes strangely articulate, and he and Ebon have enjoyed many lengthy conversations. The best part, in Ebon's mind, was that by simply cutting off the cocktail, he had the rage-filled killing machine back to do his bidding again. He has more control over Philip now than Rodger ever did, and Philip is completely loyal to his younger brother, making Ebon practically unstoppable.

Ebon is only biding his time. Once Rachel's transformation loses its luster, Ebon will step forward and show that he has been the brains of the company since Rodger's death. Once everyone realizes that it's Ebon who has been making all the decisions and steering the company out of their troubled waters, they will have no choice but to recognize his genius. His wretched sister can continue her downward spiral, but the company will be safe and respected within Ebon's hands. It's the perfect plan.