Song recommendation: In Our Bedroom After The War by Stars

Virginia

In the end, they went back to Virginia.

Neither Margaret or Lizzie had been keen on "starting over" and "moving on" from the Underland, so Grace had given up on normalcy completely. Only a week after the sealing of the last known entrance to the Underland, James packed his family up in the van and drove them all back to the farm. Followed by a fleet of armored security vehicles, of course.

After they arrived, James could only watch as the security team entrenched itself around the perimeter of his property. He hated it, because he knew Gregor would never return while they were there. Yet, he was also grateful for their presence, because without them, his wife and daughters would be in danger.

Public school was out of the question after what had happened, yet James didn't have the money so send his daughters to private school. So, over the course of six months, he worked day in and day out on his book: The Underland: Beauty in Darkness.

His semi-autobiography topped the New York Times Best Seller list for almost an entire year. Almost as soon as it was published, Hollywood executives came pounding on his door, begging him to sell them the movie rights. He let the executives bid each other up and he ultimately sold the rights to Warner Bros. for $20.6 million.

The influx of cash immediately solved half of his family's problems. James was finally able to get proper treatment for his still-aching shoulder. Margaret and Lizzie were admitted into the most prestigious private school in the state. James was able to expand the house, and double the acreage of the farm so that he no longer had to see the security perimeter out his front window. Most importantly, he was able to pay for therapy sessions for his entire family.

In the months after James finished his book, he mostly stayed on his farm, mindlessly completing small tasks. Eventually, he decided he needed to do something more. After the local middle school declined to re-employ him as a science teacher, James applied to a professorship position at the University of Virginia. Despite his lack of qualifications for graduate-level teaching, he was hired and tenured on the spot.

James's very first class on the Underland, in the spring of the following year, was packed. Not only was every seat filled, students also crowded in the aisles and along the back wall, and filled the long hallway outside. So, he hired Lizzie to create a YouTube channel for the two of them: The Underland Archive. There, he started uploading recordings of his lectures for free, despite the protests of the University.

His celebrity status only rose when an investigation of Darren Horace, Samuel Barwell, and the other hostiles at the treaty signing revealed the existence of a secret organization called "The Bureaucracy." Apparently, "The Bureaucracy" was a web of unelected officials serving in government offices around the country that had decided some decades ago to act independently from the will of the people and elected politicians.

What followed that revelation was a period later known by history as the Five Years' Chaos: six Presidents, three Vice Presidents, and so much turnover in the Senate and House that by the end of those five years, not a single elected official had held office for more than two years. Of course, every federal organization that was found to be part of the Bureaucracy was completely defunded, dismantled, and replaced.

During this time, many attempted to press James into accepting a public office, but he declined every time he was asked. He was best as an educator. Advocacy, protests—now that was Lizzie's forte.

When Lizzie, aged 18, had sat down in the front row of his class on the Underland, he had thought he couldn't be any prouder of her. That was proved wrong when just a year later, she was arrested for leading a protest on the White House, demanding that the American government cease its search for more entrances to the Underland. At that point, the American forces had already discovered several more entrances to the Underland, but all were found collapsed. The Underlanders had certainly been proactive in protecting themselves from the Americans. James had smiled when he had read that headline.

The turmoil grew so great it brought an end to the Republican-Democrat two-party hegemony, and from its ashes rose a three-party one: the Constitutionalists, the Libertarians, and the Socialists. After the Five Years' Chaos, no one trusted the government to do anything anymore, so the Libertarians gained the Senate, House, and Presidency in a landslide election. The government's size more than halved overnight, and public funding was stripped across the board and funneled into paying off the national debt.

With the new Libertarian regime came the end of the searches for more entrances to the Underland. Finally, the country settled into a semblance of peace. The American public was tired of fighting and protesting… and they were tired of hearing about the Underland.

Fourteen years after the closure of the laundry room entrance, James's class had an empty seat for the first time. He'd had to double check the roster just to make sure it was true. Views on his and Lizzie's YouTube account started to slowly decrease. There was still substantial interest in the Underland, of course, but nothing near what it once was. The United States was finally moving past the incident as a nation, and everyone was focused on building something better.

James was glad his country was healing. Maybe that meant he could finally rest. His body had never fully recovered from his ordeals in the Underland. Every night, he took puffs from his inhaler to keep his damaged lungs open. Every morning, he took a pill for his weak heart. And whenever he had a day off, Grace rubbed ointment onto his right shoulder, which still constantly ached, especially when there was bad weather.

Finally, after seventeen years of teaching at the University of Virginia, James retired.

Margaret was perhaps the only one out of all of them that had managed to carve out a normal life for herself. She'd gone off to art school in Europe, married a Frenchman, and now lived with her husband on the coast of Normandy while making oil paintings of the Underland.

Lizzie had gone into politics. She was now the chair of the Underland Defense and Awareness Commission. She also gave the occasional guest lecture at the University of Virginia.

Grace—well—she never fully recovered. She spent most of her time on the farm, creating a magnificent sprawling garden. James spent as much time as he could with his wife, but their relationship had become little more than shared trauma. Still, there was something comforting about holding a partner in the quiet of the night, as both trembled due to something no one else would ever fully understand.

With his daughters both out of the house, James and Grace had agreed that the only way Gregor would ever return was if the security was gone. So, after twenty-one years of continuous presence on his property, the government agreed to remove their security detail.

That was when James started noticing the cockroaches.

He was outside gardening with Grace when he'd noticed a whole line of them, twenty in all, walking across the fence, seemingly watching them. James had waved hello.

Next were the rats. James had been out riding his horse on a crisp winter morning when he'd noticed a dead man on the edge of his property. The man was dressed entirely in black and had been holding a gun. Inspecting the body, James noticed hundreds of rat bites on the intruder's corpse. Not wanting to draw the attention of the authorities, he had buried the corpse of the intruder in an unmarked ditch on his property.

The following morning, Grace had let out a scream from the kitchen. Fearing additional intruders, James had grabbed his shotgun and rushed to her only to find her staring at a long line of ants along the windowsill. There were easily hundreds of them, but they weren't gunning for Grace's food. Instead, they marched through a small crack in the window, down along the wall, and out the door again, not disturbing anything in the house.

"The cutters are coming for us," Grace had told him.

"No," he had responded, noting their behavior. "I think these ones are friendly, like the rats and the cockroaches. Gregor's coming home soon." The moles he spotted staring at him in the backyard five days later seemed to confirm this hypothesis. James and Grace hurriedly prepared for their son's arrival, but nothing else unusual happened for the rest of the winter.

Grace started to grow depressed again, but James didn't give up hope. Every day, he read a book and watched TV from his rocking chair by the door, waiting for his son to knock.

In April, on the morning of his 70th birthday, his son finally did.

Knock knock. The noise startled him out of his half-slumber. He inhaled deeply, smelling the scents of his wife and daughters cooking in the kitchen. He felt lucky that his daughters had been able to come home to celebrate his milestone birthday with him.

Knock knock. Did he dare hope? James stood, leaning on his cane as he made his way to the door.

James swung open the door, and his weak heart nearly failed him on the spot.

Standing in the entryway was his son, heavily bearded and much older. A faint strip of silver gleamed in Gregor's hair. "Hey, Dad," his son said, tears welling in his eyes. James dropped his cane and embraced his son for what felt like a lifetime. His son's arms wrapped tightly around his back.

James pulled away, wiping away a tear. "Come in," he said, stepping aside and gesturing into the house. "Everyone's here. They'll want to see you too."

Gregor smiled. "Alright. Dad, I brought guests—can they come in too?" His son stepped to the side, revealing people further down the steps leading up to the front porch. At the front was Luxa, who'd aged gracefully. She acknowledged James with a smile and a nod. James's gaze slid further down the stairs and all words failed him.

"Why don't you introduce yourselves—" Gregor was cut off as the smallest, a boy, ran up to James's feet, eyes beaming.

"I'm Vikus!" the boy said.

Luxa laughed. "He's our youngest," she explained. "A happy accident."

James's trembling hand ruffled the boy's brown hair. "I'm so happy to meet you, Vikus," he said.

Next up the stairs came identical twin girls. "Judith and Grace," they said, embracing him on each side.

"Grace?" James choked out. "Your mother will be pleased."

The twins stepped aside to let another girl ascend the stairs, this one easily eighteen already. "I'm so happy to meet you," she said. "My name is Aurora. I've heard about your teachings. I've brought a whole box of Helena's books with me for publication up here. You know—"

"Later," Luxa said gently, and the excited girl pouted.

James gave her a smile. "I'm excited to hear more," he told his granddaughter.

Finally, only one person remained at the base of the stairs, a tall man with brown hair and violet eyes, who looked to be about twenty. Luxa put a hand on the man's shoulder and walked with him up the steps towards James. "This is our eldest and my heir," she said, her eyes teary. "This is James."

All words escaped him.

His eldest grandchild approached him, a small smile on his lips. "I've heard so much about you," he said. "I aspire to be as strong and moral as you every day."

James embraced his grandson even as he felt his heart twitch.

Gregor noticed something on James's face. "Let's help you sit down," Gregor said, and James let his son and grandson help him back to his rocking chair.

As his son's family filled the entryway, Lizzie came from around the corner, a plate of roast turkey in her hands. She dropped it with a gasp, the plate shattering on the floor. She rushed over and embraced Gregor with a sob.

Margaret and Grace came into the room not long after, and joined Lizzie in her stranglehold on his wayward son.

As his whole family came together in pure happiness for the first time in decades, James finally felt his broken, weak heart start to heal. As the hours passed and everyone feasted, no one asked when Gregor and his family would return to the Underland. No one asked when the next visit would be. The world had already robbed enough from all of them, and no one wanted to disrupt the purity of the moment.

James leaned back in his chair at the head of the long table, absorbing the faces of everyone present. Lizzie and Margaret, pestering Gregor and Luxa about the state of the Underland. Little Vikus digging his fingers in the mashed potatoes. Judith and young Grace, absorbed in conversation with his wife. Aurora and his junior, absorbed in some sort of discussion about how to publish Helena's books. James closed his eyes and smiled, burning the sight into his memory.

It was perfect.

Author's Note

It has been a LONG road to get to this point, and I first want to give a massive shout-out to everyone that has reviewed, favorited, followed, and PM'd me along the way. Your support means a lot to me, and has been a constant source of motivation. In particular, I want to thank Vengeous for their support and incredibly detailed reviews from day one, Chapter 1. Their friendship and feedback kept me writing when I was getting close to zero reviews every chapter in the beginning.

I cannot possibly express how good it feels to mark this fic as "complete." Believe it or not, despite my long hiatus, I hate leaving things unfinished. I always intended to come back and finish this fic one day, but I kept putting it off, and getting absorbed by other things…

Long story short, I went to college, and earned a graduate and undergraduate degree in five years. This may be a little personal, but here goes: I've struggled with my health since the month before my graduation. My family is going through some tough times, I can't find a job, and I've felt incredibly lost.

That all changed when I came home after my graduation to my childhood home and spotted Gregor and the Code of Claw sitting on my shelf. All of my fond memories of the series came rushing back at once.

I suddenly wanted to finish this fic more than anything else, so I started writing like mad. I wrote eleven chapters in nine days, and at the time of posting this epilogue, it's been less than a month since I've returned from my hiatus.

What's next? I think in the coming weeks, I'll go through and update some of the old chapters. I'm not going to be making any major changes, but I'll be lengthening some scenes and scanning for typos and plot consistency. I'll mark any chapter I edit with the date it was revised at the top. I'll probably also go and finish my other unfinished fic on this site after this.

I really don't want this note to get too long, so I'll just close with this: the main theme I tried to convey in this story is a deeply personal one. It's always about the next step. I found it impossible to stay hopeful until I started taking things one step at a time. When I focused too long on what was broken in my life, it started to become the only thing I could see. That was no way to live.

Fly you high, and thank you for reading my imperfect but hopefully enjoyable and now complete fic.

- Gyltig