Diego sat through the awards ceremony the city had to celebrate the first anniversary of Lawson's downfall. It was hard to believe a year had passed since they stopped Lawson, a year since the changes that occurred within the Flying Squad. Charles was dead, Madeline was out, Wright and Isaac moved onto police headquarters as Commissioner and Deputy Commissioner respectively, Ramirez was the Division Chief assigned to Capitol Peak and (Name) was the new Chief of the Flying Squad. As to the civilian personnel, they resumed their positions once the Flying Squad was no longer in an administrative capacity, including himself. Though between his duties as CFO of the Concordian Telephone Company and as Miss Rochester's financial advisor, not to mention a silent partnership with Evie who took over the Pistols and Petticoats magazine, Diego found his time as the Flying Squad's consultant reduced. He didn't mind the part time role in the Flying Squad, it wasn't like he could devote himself entirely to work. Diego did appreciate having a social life, even if it was limited to spending time with Maddie and George—though with Maddie it was in a platonic capacity—and the occasional attempts by Mrs. O'Malley to secure him a match, which she hasn't managed so far.

"Speaking of Maddie," Diego said as Maddie came up to the platform to accept an award in Charlie's name. She had just moved from full mourning to half, so she was able to be at the ceremony, and even if she was still in full mourning and the social restrictions entailed, Diego would call out anyone who would dare to criticize Maddie's presence. After all, is Maddie not honoring her late husband by being here to represent him?

"George, no." (Name) said. They were holding little George, who had started to grow into quite a little person, and was currently stuffing his hands inside (Name)'s pockets.

"Want treats." George said, then his face lit up when he looked towards Diego. "Uncle Diego! Treats!"

"Later, George." Diego said, smiling. "And listen to (Name) and keep your hands out of their pockets. It's rude to just stick your hands in without permission."

"Yes!" George stopped trying to plunder (Name)'s pockets, and they just glanced at Diego.

"Sometimes, I wonder if you're trying to teach him certain tricks he shouldn't be learning." (Name) muttered.

"I don't know where he's gotten this obsession for pockets, but it's not from me." Diego said. "If it were, he wouldn't be so obvious about trying to pick them."

"True, you would encourage subtlety. So, when do you plan to open your new townhouse for entertaining?"

"The first Christmas Maddie is out of mourning." (Name) nodded in agreement. Eventually, the awards ceremony ended and the Flying Squad headed towards the park for their own picnic celebration. Diego stayed behind and looked at the statue in the square, which depicted Tradewinds, holding a bottle with a rag in it and behind him was a burning guillotine.

"You would have been amused to see this, old chum." Diego said, thinking of his old fence. "All your years in the shadows and now you're on display for all to see. As a hero, no less!" Diego left the square, but instead of heading to the park to join Maddie and the rest of the Flying Squad, he made his way to the cemetery. He passed Castletown's grave, which only received the barest of care and no visitors. Considering people blamed Castletown for Lawson—making Lawson the Deputy Mayor only for him to inherit the Mayor's seat and abuse it so—it wasn't surprising people were spitting on the previous Mayor. Soon, Diego reached Charlie's grave, and pulled from his pockets a flask of whiskey and two shot glasses that he laid on the stone.

"Hello, Charlie." Diego said. "I know it's been a while, and maybe bringing alcohol to a gravesite isn't all that proper, but you were never the type for flowers. We just celebrated the first anniversary of our defeating Lawson. It's hard to believe it's only been a year since we stopped him…since we lost you. We're doing well, all of us, I'm sure Maddie told you about (Name)'s promotion to Chief of the Flying Squad, after Wright became the Police Commissioner. Speaking of Wright, he proposed to Miss Rochester back in Easter; they have the wedding planned for next June and are planning their honeymoon in Europe; it turns out they've always wanted to see the French Rivera. Between Deputy Commissioner Isaac and Chief (Name), I think our humble Commissioner can afford a holiday. There's no chance of what we endured last year, that nightmare repeating itself, especially not with all the key players out of commission. I don't know if Maddie told you what happened to them in detail, so apologies if I'm being redundant. Smythe killed himself after sentencing, taking advantage of the room being stunned during Lawson's ranting and blew his brains out rather than take his chances among his fellow sodomites and deviants. Dora Umbright lived out the rest of her life in prison…all eight hours of it. Don't be so surprised, Charles, she did murder a priest and attempted to murder the orphan children under his care. Some of those children were born in prison, and I've no doubt the mothers of those children were among Umbright's fellow inmates. Every member of the Justice Corps who were arrested—if they're still alive—are enduring hell during their sentences. Still, every one of them are a lot luckier than Lawson is.

"Several weeks after he was sentenced, Maddie and I were contacted. Lawson had been assaulted in prison, by Bart McMullen and Tommy Fletcher of all people! Somehow, Lawson got loose from his solitary confinement and ran into those two, and they proceeded to give him a hell of a thrashing, which resulted in him landing in an iron lung in the prison infirmary. Maddie and I saw him after it happened, and…there's nothing left. Nothing of that bright-eyed District Attorney who championed justice, not the tyrant who sold that justice for revenge, just a body kept alive by machines. Maddie said it was enough now, that Lawson has paid for what he did, thanks to those brutes, who earned another twelve years on their sentence for the assault. I don't know about you, but the whole incident brought everything full circle for me. It's truly over…Lawson's finished, now it's just a matter of waiting for the body to catch up, and letting him answer to a higher power…if he hasn't already." Diego then poured the whiskey into the two shot glasses. "We're all okay, Charles, or will be. We all miss you, Maddie especially. We make sure George knows you, what you did for Concordia…for me…for all of us. She reads your journal to him, my how we've all been through so many incredible adventures together.

"I just wanted you to know that you were more than a friend to me, Charlie. I don't know if I said it, but I hope my actions spoke such." Diego toasted Charlie with one glass of whiskey and drank it, then took the other one and poured the whiskey onto the grave plot. "Now, if you'll excuse me, Charlie, I have to get back to living. Adiós mi hermano. Good-bye, my brother. Until we meet again." Diego took the glasses and flask, put them in his pocket and left the grave. He had to join his family at their picnic, they were waiting for him. Concordia's future was bright, and while the Flying Squad would go on to have many more adventures, Diego knew that none of them would ever forget Charlie.

—fin