DMOS chap 13: Epilogue

Disclaimer: Through all of the changes which have happened in this unusual story, one thing remains the same. I do not own Fillmore.

Thank you to everyone who stayed with me this far, and I'm glad you all enjoyed the ride. I certainly did. I got way more of a response to this story than I initially thought I would, and it makes me so happy to be able to share it with you all. I kind of figured I would only have a couple of people reading it because it's such an odd story, mostly populated by OCs. ;) Anyway, thanks!

Please read my note at the end of this chapter to find out about the real ending. ;)

Written mostly to Owl City. It seemed to fit.

This story is dedicated to "The Last Unicorn", both the book and the movie, both of which have provided the majority of quotes for this story. It and its sequel are also dedicated to "Parasyte", a manga by Hitoshi Iwaaki, for making me think, and for never making me feel the way I expected. I suspect that this manga will be a large influence on the sequel.

Horizon, rising up to meet the purple dawn
Dust demon, screaming, bring an eagle to lead me on
For in my heart I carry such a heavy load
Here I am, on man's road
Walking man's road
Walking man's road

I'm hungry, weary, but I cannot lay me down
The rain comes, dreary
But there's no shelter I have found
It will be a long time till I find my abode
Here I am, on man's road
Walking man's road

Moon rising, disguising lonely streets in gay displays
The stars fade, the nightshade falls and makes the world afraid
It waits in silence for the sky to explode
Here I am on man's road
Walking man's road

Walking man's road

Walking man's road

- "Man's Road", The Last Unicorn (movie)

Fillmore sat on the roof and looked out over his city. The moon was waxing, almost full, and it seemed to roll among the distant ribbons of cloud, its light lending a silver gleam to the darkness.

The roofs stretched out as far as he could see in the silvery glow, their edges illuminated gently, softening the sharp, concrete corners. Tree branches stretched up as far as they could, as though they wanted to bathe in the light, and a few scuds of cloud glided slowly overhead.

Fillmore sighed, a deep sigh from down inside him. It was beautiful. The calm of the night and the sweet spell of the moonlight flowed into him through his nose when he breathed and filled his eyes as he gazed up and outward.

The wind touched his cheek, slipping softly by his face, and Fillmore's lip twitched into a smile.

"I'm glad you could come," he said.

"How did you know I was here?" Lilith asked. She came forward into his view and seated herself beside him on the roof.

"Your shampoo," Fillmore told her. "The scent's a little strong."

Lilith chuckled softly and brushed a wisp of hair away from her face. Under the moonlight, each fine hair seemed to shimmer. It had more of a silver cast to it than during the day.

The two sat together quietly then, listening to the night. A distant honking of car horns sounded faintly, but neither moved. The silence seemed to surround them, waiting gently as long as they needed it to. Finally, Fillmore spoke.

"Do you think he's really gone?" he asked softly. He turned to look at Lilith and saw the same hint of fear in her gentle face as he knew flickered in his own.

"I think he is," she answered. "But I don't know if I'll ever believe it."

"Yeah." Fillmore's voice was heavy with his own frustration, his own anger at himself for the fear he still felt, might always feel. He still woke at night sometimes, knowing that Darkness was out there, was coming for him. He didn't know how long the fear would last, or if he would ever be rid of it.

Perhaps monsters never really died.

There was another silence as each struggled to recapture their earlier calm, as each searched for a discussion topic that would move them away and mask their fear, at least for now. A chill wind whispered past, but neither shivered as it caressed their skin in passing. They had been trained until stillness was more than an action; it was simply a way of existence. A thought flickered into Fillmore's mind, something that had been puzzling him for a while now, ever since Ingrid had recounted the story of her capture to him, back when they talked more.

He said softly, "Ingrid told me that you were the one who rescued her from Darkness."

Lilith nodded.

"Why?"

Lilith was silent for a moment, gathering her thoughts. "I wasn't going to," she said at last. "Not at first. You know I was the one who saw you talking with her." It wasn't a question, but Fillmore nodded, though he doubted that she had noticed. She wasn't looking at him, but out over the dark rooftops. "When I first saw you," Lilith said softly, "I was horrified. It was unnatural and dangerous, like seeing an owl and a toad decide to be friends, and all I could think was that it had to be a trick, that I had to get help, had to save you." She paused, and inhaled deeply, as though the cool night air was all that was keeping her talking. "You know what happened then," she said, and Fillmore too drew in a shaky breath, remembering the fight on the rooftops and afterward, in Darkness's chair. That too was a memory that haunted his dreams.

"It was only after you were safe at home," she continued after a moment, "that I started to actually remember what I had seen. I remembered the way you had looked; excited and interested and happy, and always questioning in that way you have. We were told that you were being brainwashed, and I hadn't questioned it at first, but when I thought about it, well…you just seemed so like yourself, almost more like yourself than I had ever seen you. And I remembered her, and the way she looked at you." This also seemed hard, and Lilith trailed off. She looked off into the distance and didn't speak for several minutes. Fillmore waited patiently. And he too watched the horizen. It was turning cold, and the breeze over the rooftops seemed to stimulate his blood. He felt the hairs stand up on his arms underneath his sleeves, and at the back of his neck, but he didn't speak, he merely waited. Waiting was something he had always been good at.

"She looked at you," Lilith said at last, "and I saw her mind in her eyes. I saw it again before I let her out and helped her escape. What I saw…" she sighed, as though she was having trouble putting her thoughts into words. Once again, Fillmore waited. Then she smiled a little, although it seemed to strain her face, and looked over at Fillmore again. "I could see," she said, "that she wanted to save you too." Fillmore gave a soft chuckle.

"Well, she did," he said.

"And you saved me," Lilith finished, "and everyone else."

There was another silence, which was broken when Fillmore shifted discontentedly. He hugged himself against the chills, whithin and whithout, and rubbed his hands down the goosepimpled flesh of his arms.

"I just wonder if I'll always feel like this," he said miserably. "I feel like an outsider. I can't explain myself to anyone because I don't feel like I can really trust them, and they wouldn't understand, and…I'm so lonely sometimes. It's gotten easier since the first morning, but do you think it will ever really go away?"

"No," Lilith said. "At least, I think we'll always feel different from everyone else. Darkness changed us, but that doesn't necessarily have to be a bad thing.

"What do you mean?"

"You saved us," Lilith repeated, and she smiled again, more easily this time. "You told me what happened when you got your memories back for the second time. You beat Darkness at his own game. You couldn't have done that before."

"I know," Fillmore said darkly. He had been able to tell Lilith what he had never been able to explain to Ingrid, but it was still a very painful subject, and one that he didn't feel like remembering again.

"But that's just the point," Lilith said, clearly understanding Fillmore's unspoken thoughts. She was looking at him now, and her normally calm eyes were filled with conviction. Intensity flickered in the contours of her face, and Fillmore found himself meeting those eyes against his will. "He made us this way," Lilith said. "He made us silent and deadly. He taught us to use every advantage against our opponent, to never stop fighting and to manipulate our opponents. He taught us to be his perfects slaves, and we were, but you used everything he taught us to beat him, to bring him down. These skills are ours now, and we can use them in any way we choose."

"They aren't a trap, they're a gift." Fillmore's voice was soft, almost unwilling, but still the words crept from his lips and into the dark air. "It's a harsh gift because it means we can never be like the other people in our lives, but…." He paused and let his senses expand, heard a distant argument from a next door house, pinpointed a car engine from the next street over. He widened his nostrils and breathed in, smelling the recent rain, the metallic, chemical scent of human life, and a distant hint of trees carried on the wind, and he sighed. "I don't want to lose my perception either," he admitted.

"I know," Lilith said. "Darkness was evil, and…I still have nightmares about him. I wish I had never met him, but this is me now. You and I and the rest of us, we'll always see the world a little differently, but that doesn't mean we have to feel handicapped or broken, and…we don't have to be alone either, because we have each other."

"We do," Fillmore said. He closed his eyes and smiled into the night. He knew he would never be who he was before his capture. They had all been changed, and that wouldn't change just because their tormentor was dead. Perhaps Reaper too would realize this, perhaps he already had. But it was true that he was now more in control of himself, and more aware of the world around him. And he wasn't alone. Perhaps in time, Reaper would also realize that.

"Are you coming then?" he asked the girl beside him. Lilith swept her gray-blond hair away from her face, and rose to her feet as he did.

"I thought you'd never ask," she answered.

Without another word, the two of them headed off together, slipping silently over the roof plates, flitting from roof to roof, separate but together. So, slowly the disappeared into the darkness; two shadows under the moon.

End

Thanks for sticking it out with me everyone! I had a lot of fun writing this, and I hope you all enjoyed the story, even if it was a strange ride.

But wait! Very soon I will be posting a one-shot companion to this story, titled "White Walls". It will be separate from this story, and is in Reaper's point of view during his incarceration by the police, and what followed his escape. Reaper was always my favorite character in this story. I planned his character down to the last detail, but I didn't end up actually writing about him very much in the story, as Fillmore was the main character, and the readers could only see what he saw of Reaper. Therefore, this one-shot gave me a chance to write about Reaper a little more.

I am also considering a sequel story which would star Reaper. Fillmore would likely be in it, but Reaper would be the main character. Anyway, read the one-shot and let me know what you all think. If anyone is interested in seeing more of Reaper I will write and post that story as I already have a lot of it planned out.

In any case, thank you for reading this story and for all of your helpful comments!