HALLO MEIN VOLKE!!

Is me, Simmon

lol jk is Simon

It is time for the last set of review replies until next story. Thanks to all who have given their constructive criticism replies throughout! It has been well appreciated.

GirlOnDarkerSide

Confusion: (X)

Good chapter: (X)

Got you to cry: ( ) lolnope

Dammit! I'll get you next time! *plots vengeance*

In all honesty, I'm glad you enjoyed the chapter in spite of your confusion (which was sort of the point of the chapter, btw). Sorry if it's too cryptic, but eh.

The TRIGGERED A.F. Lemur ~ Yeah. You should probably hug both Kirby Termina. Comfort them after the hell they've been through. Or...just Kirby...'cuz he's technically both of them—? *brain explodes*

And thank you for reading. And now for the finale.

His vision was so painful... His eyelids felt so heavy... Everything...everything was too bright...

His breathing was slow and weak, as was his heartbeat. Every single bone, muscle, organ, or otherwise within him was aching. He felt as though he had just gone through an immense migraine. Every fiber of his being seemed to be yearning for death, an end to the pain, and yet in spite of everything, the puffball was, the most relieving sense of the word, alive. And awake. At long last he was free.

Termina — Kirby — shielded one of their eyes from the light source hanging above them. He were laying face up on his bed in his house. His real, normal-sized house. He was atop his real bed, laying on his real pillow, starring up at his real ceiling. It wasn't some delusion. It wasn't some mind game or nightmare. It was real. Everything felt the same to the touch, but somehow there was this instinct deep within telling the star warrior that he was truly awake.

And with that knowledge, he turned to the figure slumped against the side of his bed, where he had been lain after he had gone berserk. After he had killed so many innocents. After they — he had seen what he had afflicted to his victims and to himself. Their friend had been sleeping with them as a result, and it was all their fault.

Did he even deserve to wake the jester up? Did he even deserve this mercy? Did he even deserve to have woken up?

No... He couldn't. He had seen to much.

As soon as he got up, Kirby planned, he'd exit his house, grab his Warp Star as quickly as possible, and leave. He'd leave Dream Land alone after he had so nearly destroyed it. He'd leave because Dream Land didn't deserve him.

Then it's settled. Kirby thought. He would be leaving Dream Land. To save it from himself. Where he would end up, however, was the most challenging question for Kirby to answer. Where would he go? Where could he go? To some random, unknown, dark corner of planet Popstar? To another planet? Another galaxy, even?

No. That was too much. Dream Land may not deserve him, but they do deserve his protection. He'll make himself into a myth, hidden beneath the shadows until danger inevitably struck, when he'd arrive to save the day before retreating from whence he came. He'd be the hero only when he was needed to be the hero. Think Meta Knight, but even more mysterious. Sounded like fun...

Didn't sound too bad, in fact... But that still didn't answer the question. Where would he go? The borderlands of the kingdom? The Outer Territories?

Before Kirby could put any further thought into it, he heard the jester stir. His hat appeared wrinkled and patched up in some places. His shoes were dull and their laces unkempt and untied. The poor thing had gone through a lot. Well...to be honest, everyone did.

"Marx..." he whispered.

Their eyes slowly opened up, and Kirby was kind of expecting him to take a deep yawn and to get up and stretch. A small sense of panic overtook the puffball. He was expecting Marx to do one of three things; A) lean up to him and whisper something along the lines of 'Good morning, you.'; B) stare at him apprehensively, not saying a word as guilt slowly consumed the puffball; or C) get up and leave. Kirby wouldn't have been surprised with any of these actions should Marx have done any of them. And Kirby would have traded up regardless of which scenario occurred.

But no. Marx didn't even get up from his position, leaning onto the bed more or less. His face was blank. He was perfectly still. He wasn't even looking at Kirby at all. His eyes were directed toward the ground, as if he was depressed about something. Kirby couldn't help but already feel his eyes begin to water.

Then he said some words. Marx, sounding tired and drained, said six little words that struck the puffball like bullets. "You aren't really Kirby, are you?"

Everything that the star warrior had in his mind was immediately erased and replaced with soul-crushing grief. He struggled to hold back a sob. "M...M-Marx...wh-what are you..." He couldn't even finish a sentence.

"I know what you are..." Marx continued to mutter. "And I know what you've done... You killed my best friend...and, in essence, you've killed me as well..."

"Marx, please..." Kirby cried. "Wh...what are you saying, Marx...?"

"You...you truly are heartless..." Marx now stood atop the puffball. Both of their eyes were wide open, one in terror and the other to terrify. The jester's eyes were pitch black, as was a fluid oozing out of his mouth as he spoke, slowly spilling onto Kirby's exposed body. "You took away the only thing we ever cared about... Th...the only thing I ever cared about!" The voice was growing more and more angry.

"Marx, please...!" Kirby desperately begged. But it was to no avail.

"You took away the only person I ever loved!"

"I-I'm sorry..."

"You took away the only person who trusted me despite all the pain I've cause him!"

"I'm sorry, Marx..."

"You took Kirby away! YOU TOOK MY KIRBY AWAY, YOU SICK FUCK!!"

"..." Kirby was left without a voice, without any way to respond. To stop the dark liquid from spilling any further. Marx's eyes were bleeding the stuff. The walls were oozing it, too.

"I should've listened! I should've listened to Meta Knight's warnings earlier! About you! And the terror you'd cause!! And..." Marx struggled. "A-and I didn't think it to be true... I didn't believe him be-because...because I thought you were still alive, Kirby..."

The two of them were now sobbing. Marx's tears stung the puffball like salt in an open wound.

"But no... He...he was already dead, wasn't he, Termina? You killed him. You took him from us. You took him from me...s-so you could have him for yourself..."

"I...M-Marx..."

But then he stopped. Though it was only for a little bit, it was enough to allow Kirby a small window to try gather what pieces of himself were left after having been smashed so many times. The keyword was try. Was there anything left..?

Marx was grabbing something — a weapon. It looked familiar, a dagger of some sort. He put the sharp edge right underneath Kirby's mouth, still squirming from the endless well of tears.

"Once I knew he was gone, Termina, I thought..." Marx sniffed. "I thought I could get him back. All I had to do was...cut him out of you..." As the jester spoke those words, the dagger dug into the puffball's skin, making Kirby yelp in pain as he drew blood.

"I thought that...all you had to do...was die...and then Kirby would be back again. My Kirby would be back again..."

"I'm right here, Marx..." Kirby choked.

"And so I killed you. Right here." The knife dug further into the defenseless, long-broken star warrior.

"Th-then kill me, Marx... I...I don't deserve to live..."

"But I already have. Yet you're still here, Termina."

Kirby could feel the weapon grazing up against his heart, or at least it felt that way. As though Marx were teasing him with the prospect of death. "More... More pain... I deserve more pain..."

"No. You deserve to die alone. To rot away and feel the pain you've caused. The pain you've caused to all of us..."

Kirby focused behind Marx's figure. Behind him were everyone else. King Dedede, Tiffany, Meta Knight — all who had once been his friend. Or, at least, their silhouettes, before they faded into the darkness. The puffball fell onto the floor, bleeding from his wound, coughing up even more blood once he had collided with a loud thud.

He was inside the room again. The first one. The very first one. The dimly lit one where he had been handcuffed, and where the nightmare had began. And, he presumed, where it would end, as would any further nightmares from his part. He struggled to get up, desperately clawing his way off the ground but instead collapsing in a pool of his own blood.

He caught sight of Marx, readying to shut the door that would soon separate them. "You don't have to do this, Marx..." Kirby wept.

It was left unanswered. The door slammed shut, and Kirby was left to be trapped alone in the room, his life slowly trickling sobbing away.

In one last bit of desperation, Kirby begged for Marx to come back. For the nightmare to end.

"M-Marx...Please don't leave me here..."

No one came back.

"I...I don't want to die alone, Marx... I-I need you..."

No one came back.

"I know I deserve it b-but...why this? Why this cold...? Wh...why did you leave me here to die, Marx...?"

No one came back. It was heart-wrenching agony. It was the ultimate punishment. He was being left there to rot away for everything he had done...

In his delirium, Kirby continued his mumblings.

"I...I loved you, Marx... Wh...what do I have to do to convince you...?"

"Do I have to do something...? Must I do something to convince you...?"

"Do I...Do I have to die again to appease you...? To just waste away just like you and the others want...?"

"I'll...I'll just lay here then... I'll die...just for you..."

"And I won't come back..."

"I promise..."

Everything now started feeling fuzzy. The sensation was far too familiar at this point.

And he would make sure his promise wasn't empty. If he had the choice, he'd stay behind in that abyss. He would not come back. And if he had to return, as he always had, he'd leave. He'd leave everyone. He would run away and never look back.

Just for you. Kirby sighed.

Everything started to lose focus.

Everything started to feel numb...

Here it comes...

"Kirby?"

"Kirby! Wake up! Please! I...I..."

"D-don't leave me, Kirby..."

"We care about you, Kirby... Don't leave us..."

"...M...muh..." Kirby started to stir.

"N-no! P-please, Kirby! Don't leave me behind!!"

Kirby snapped awake, shrieking due to how loud Marx had wailed. Marx gasped at the sight. Once both had recovered from the initial shock, they started at each other intently. The jester looked as though he had just seen a ghost, his eyes filled to the brim with tears. The puffball looked, by comparison, usual, though confused.

They were back in Kirby's house. The real one. On Kirby's bed. The real one.

"H...hello, poy—" Kirby tried to greet his friend, but was soon pulled into a tight embrace.

"Y...y...you're alive..." Marx stuttered.

"I'm alive." Kirby repeated, tone all. Not surprising — he wasn't even sure how.

"Are...are you alright...?"

"I...I don't think so." Kirby sighed. "I guess you aren't, either, poyo."

"I am now..."

"...M...me, too..."

Their embrace continued wordlessly for several minutes, neither wanting to escape the warm touch of the other after how long they've been asleep. When, at last, they pulled apart, they both appeared noticeably better, especially Marx. At last, some happiness had returned to his tortured soul.

They spent a bit more time silently reminiscing the whole experience, laying down on the bed they've been asleep on for what felt like years when Marx suddenly spoke up.

"So did you mean it?" he whispered.

Kirby perched up. "Huh?"

"Did you mean what you told me back there?" Marx said more clearly, though still quietly.

Kirby shifted in his spot. "Yeah..."

"Even the death part?"

"Y-yeah, poy..."

Marx scooted closer toward the puffball, twidling his stubs. "Even the, uhm...l-love part?"

Of course he'd bring that up. His cheeks went red in embarrassment.

"I-I mean..." It seemed that Marx was embarrassed, too. "The things y-you fantasized us doing i-in your, uhm...dream..."

Kirby sunk his face further into his stubs. Why why WHY did he need to bring that up now??

"I-is that how you feel about me, Kirby?"

There's no point in hiding it now...

"Y-yeah..."

Kirby couldn't notice it, but for a split second, a grin appeared on the edge of the jester's lips. He quickly covered it up with a gulp.

"Y-you know, Kay..."

Kirby froze. Marx hadn't called him by that nickname since the Sun Moon Incident from years back. What was he trying to—

"I just want you to know that, uhm...if you want, we could try something out?"

Kirby turned towards the jester. They were inches away from each other. "Say that again..." That couldn't...He wouldn't be—

"If you're fine with it, Kay...I-I'm willing to let us try some—"

Kirby closed the gap without any warning, not like that was important. He wasn't going to hold himself back now. Not again. Not anymore. Because this time, it'll count.

As their passionate kiss continued, Marx couldn't help but feel both so dumbfounded yet so satisfied. He had harbored some feelings toward Kirby in the past, and had suspected that maybe Kirby shared those feelings, but had left it at that. But he hadn't expected Kirby to be so...commandeering in the exchange.

But that wasn't important. Nothing else was. A wave of raw emotion pleasure exploded within them as the kiss became more feral and they rolled across the bed looking for that perfect position.

Once they finally separated, they were both gasping for air, having nearly lost all of their breath in the endeavor. Both were panting like wild dogs, and both kept the other right on their sights. They had done similar things in Kirby's purgatory before, yet none had felt quite as genuine and meaningful as this, likely because they were both finally awake and fully aware of what they were doing.

It took a while for them to cool down, both trying to comprehend what had just happened and what it meant for them. Kirby, now much more relaxed, leaned back and asked Marx, "S-so does this mean..."

Marx only nodded in response; it was the only one Kirby needed then and there to affirm that this wasn't any sort of trick. The star warrior before long moved to another topic, one that too was a wound in his heart that long needed closure. "And...and everyone else?" he asked. "How are they doing...since I left...?"

"Well..." Marx pondered for a bit, thinking of how exactly to word his answer. "I-I don't know everything because, uhm...well, I've been here. With you."

Kirby's excited attitude quickly sunk with that remark. I should've known... Why did I even ask?

"B-but I did catch some things before we, well...brought you here." Marx quickly added, not wanting Kirby to be saddened any more than he already has.

Kirby looked up. "What did you hear?" he asked softly.

"...I think the first thing's first; we all were certainly shocked with what happened, Kirby. There's no denying that... But despite everything you did, w-we... What I'm trying to say is, well... we still care about you."

"Wha-?"

"Let's just say that we can know when you're yourself, or at least Meta Knight can. It's certainly not like that Demon Frog debacle from years past."

"...But I..."

"We know. We know. And to be honest, I don't know how that's going to end up, but...from what I can tell, we always can rebuild. Cappy Town certainly seemed like that's what they'll be doing. Sure...you took the pill the darkness offered you and, uhm...kind of are the darkness now, I guess... But you're still our Kirby. Y-you're still my Kirby..."

"Marx..."

"Yeah, you'll be held up for what you've done, but at the end of the day..." Marx took a deep breath as he turned toward the puffball. "you're still our friend."

Kirby starred down at himself, at his stubs. They had the faded remains of soot and a small bit of dried blood staining them. This wasn't a scar that couldn't be washed away. But he can grow from it, just like he always has. Just like everyone else has been doing. "Th-thank you, poy..." his response wavered.

Marx finally arose from their comfy resting place, stretching his arms and such before turning around. "Well? You coming?"

"Huh?"

"It's a big world out there, Kirby. A lot better than being trapped in here, that's for sure."

Kirby was a bit uncomfortable with the proposition. "Y-you sure that everyone'll be fine seeing me?"

"For the most part, I guess. But who are we to not wing it and find out?"

"..." The window soon caught Kirby's attention. The blinds were opens just barely enough for the puffball to see out the window. It was a beautifull, sunny day, as was usual in Dream Land. There were butterflies minding their own business whilst Cappy Town, though small from this distance, was visible. The children were playing outside whilst the adults were busy fixing one of the buildings that had been destroyed. "I want to help them."

"Who?"

"I want to help fix this mess."

Marx snickered. "Well, get up, then! You can't help anyone from here."

For the first time in, well...who knew how long, Kirby didn't feel weakened or pathetic. Kirby didn't feel confused or sad. He felt confident, energetic, ready for what the universe would bring him, and...happy. For the first time in a long time, Kirby felt like his old self. Like his true self.

He got up, walked toward Marx, and together they opened his front door, a new sense of purpose and happiness in his soul that was ready to be fulfilled.

And that is the end.

Thank you for reading.