A/N: Please wait until the ride has come to a full stop before you remove your seat belts. The exit is to your right, please follow the signs. We hope you had an enjoyable ride and will visit us again soon!

. . . Yeah, that was certainly messed up and I don’t think it was necessary, either. oO But I felt like it. Like it hinted, this is it. HC’s over. All done. With a total of 118,205 words and 59 chapters. It’s really scary -- we’ve been working on this bugger for not even a year. It’s also the first really long thing either of us has ever finished, so we’re proud.

We’d like to say thank you to everyone who’s been reading this. Both Jinni and I hope we gave you a decent read and the characters didn’t piss you off too much. All of you are really great for being so patient and spending your precious time on reading HC.

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If there was such a thing as a happily ever after, Gareth desperately wished it would come and see an end to his troubles. The way things were right now . . . Well, he didn’t really want them to stay like that.

The size of his social circle had dwindled dramatically. Orrik, much as he had been hated, was dead. So was his sister, Annabel; finally relieved from the torture she had gone through. Whatever she’d had to put up with, Gareth was sure it was better now.

He still didn’t know what to say about the indifference he felt towards her death. Maybe he’d been gone for too long. Maybe the love, if it could be called that, he had felt had died. Because, honestly; what he’d seen there in Hibryant . . .

It hadn’t been Annabel. She never begged. She never sounded lost. Always confident, always active and outspoken. All Gareth had seen was a beast. No longer human, and attacking someone he’d grown to . . . Care for, he finished sullenly, afraid of even thinking something he might regret. Definitely.

To add to the list of recent deaths, there was always Rishou. Gods above, the kid had been a mess. Dirty and undernourished, and he’d obviously seen some abuse before his spirit departed. Gareth wanted no details.

All he knew was that he would miss the kid. For all his annoying behavior, he’d been pretty neat to have around and sure as heck hadn’t deserved to die.

And there was always Malachi. It was odd -- wandering through the quiet halls of Chrystal’s mansion, expecting the half-demon to pop out of nowhere to scold him for something Gareth hadn’t even registered was wrong, and nothing happening. It would take a while to get used to that. Strange things like growing used to the dead gaze from underneath the hood happened.

Four deaths in such a short period of time. Gods, Gareth almost felt guilty. Although it was probably for the best, at least for Annabel, Malachi and Orrik. Rishou . . . Rishou was an entirely different issue.

That particular loss seemed to have eliminated any tiny scrap of spirit in Wren. Months had passed now, the first signs of spring were showing everywhere. The woman had buried herself in her grief, becoming unresponsive save for a few moments where she showed life signs.

Gareth had nothing against some grief. For crying out loud, he’d had more than enough of it. But for all he could tell, it was going too far. Wren had no right to shut herself off from the world like she did.

Right?

Frustrated, he growled and gave the gardener working right in front of his nose a killer look. The servant eyed him curiously, having gotten accustomed to his mood swings, before going back to his work.

Damnit. Apparently he was losing his touch.

He cast a quick glance at Wren, whom he had -- with Nero’s help -- managed to bring outside. Now she was sitting on one of the stone benches, her hair lightly ruffled by the breeze and didn’t seem to care about it. The longer it lasted, the scarier the whole deal got.

“Spring’s coming,” Gareth said conversationally, sitting down next to Wren and craning his head to look at the clouds passing overhead. Not that he expected an answer or anything. He just wanted to fill in the blank silence. “Lots of flowers instead of snow. Guess that means you’ll need to wait a year to get back at me, huh?”

The silence following that convinced Gareth completely that this really sucked. He really wanted the silly, bantering Wren back. It sucked even more that he couldn’t really give her a happily ever after, like she probably wanted. Or needed. One of which.

“Hey, you.” He reached over and lightly poked her in the side. At least she had the grace to jerk away slightly, which told him she was still alive. That was a good sign.

“You know what I’m going to be leaving today, right?” he asked, averting his gaze and fixing it back on the clouds. “I need to take care of a few things. Y’know, see if my family’s still around and if they remember me. That kind of jazz. But there’s . . . also a few things I want to see and do. I’m probably gonna take Alyss, bring her back and all.”

He looked at the dazed Wren and gave her a sheepish grin. “See? I’m not that bad after all. And I told you I wasn’t stealing. Just borrowing. I’m not as bad a guy as I always pretend to be.” The grin faded away and Gareth heaved a sigh. “Look, Wren,” he continued, “I know you can hear me. Somewhere in there. And you don’t have to answer me. I just wanted to let you know that I’m not gonna be around for a while.”

He would have liked to do nothing better than break something when a thick, uncomfortable silence settled down again. A few stray birds chirped here and there. That was all. But Wren . . . Wren was looking as comatose as ever.

And that pissed Gareth off. Sure, he knew better than to expect an answer out of her. She was still deep in shock. But couldn’t she at least say good-bye or something? Anything at all? Was it really that hard? He thought not.

Suddenly furious, he stood up. The abrupt motion startled a robin from its perch in a nearby tree. He swatted at it angrily when it flew to close to him. Stupid bird.

As the thought crossed his mind, he could almost hear Malachi musing, Not necessarily stupid . . . Just confused. The Little Bird doesn’t always know what she’s doing.

Great, just great. Commentary from Nirvana. Just what he needed.

“I’ll send someone out to get you,” Gareth told Wren’s stiff form. “Like I said, just wanted to let you know why I’m not here. Good-bye, I doubt I’ll see you before I leave.” With that, he spun around.

“When?”

That word stopped Gareth dead in his tracks. Shocked, he turned around slowly to see Wren with her head bowed, staring at the ground just as he’d seen her seconds before. But she raised her head then -- an almost mechanic motion that made it seem like she’d forgotten what it was like to do exactly that.

“What?” Gareth asked carefully. He was sure his hearing had played a trick on him. Wren hadn’t talked in months. She wasn’t going to start now just because he’d thrown a hissy fit. Heck, she would purposely stay quiet to annoy the daylights out of him.

Or would she?

Her eyes finally met his. “When . . . when will you be back?” her voice was rough, slightly hoarse from disuse. But finally, finally she seemed humane again.

Gareth was still startled. “I-I don’t know yet,” he said. Gods, he sure as all Hell hoped this wasn’t some dream. If it was, he’d start believing in the Gods again and then hunt the Goddess of Dreams down. And then slit her throat. Because giving him hope like this wasn’t fair.

He reached down to pinch his arm. Youch. Okay, so the pain was real. It wasn’t a dream. But . . . still . . . It seemed kind of unreal to him.

“You’re staring,” Wren said quietly, looking away again.

Gareth shook his head sharply. Well, Hell, didn’t he have a right to do that? “Guess so.” He shrugged. “Wouldn’t you?”

She didn’t respond.

Shit. Great going, jackass, Gareth told himself. He always did manage to majorly blow it, didn’t he. The uncrowned King of Assholes. At least he could take care of the crown part -- Chrystal would jump at the chance to take care of it.

A ghost of a smile quirked Wren’s lips, as if she knew his thoughts. But it vanished as soon as it had come. “Will you come back at all?” she inquired cautiously.

What kind of question was that? Sure, a minute ago he hadn’t been so sure about it anymore. What use would it have been, after all? She hadn’t responded to anything anyone said, was spiritually absent . . . Of course Gareth had asked himself if he really wanted to spend his life taking care of a traumatized woman.

But now that he thought about it, that would be running away. The only time he’d run away was when Annabel died the first time. That had hurt as all Hell, and it had also messed him up big time. He decided he wouldn’t make the same mistake twice.

“Sure am. I need to piss Chrys off after all.” Gareth grinned. “Can’t give her the satisfaction of never seeing me again.”

Wren smiled back shyly and held out a hand. “Promise?”

“Promise. You’re not getting rid of me that easily.” When he reached out to take her hand, he hesitated. “But only if you promise to wait and get yourself into huge trouble so I know you’re back to normal,” he added, then grasped her hand firmly before she could change her mind.

A frown appeared on her face. “Okay . . .”

“Then it‘s a deal.”