Epilogue

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A/N: Words in parenthesis symbolize being spoken in another language.

Example:

"How are you?"

"(How are you?)"

"(How are you?)"

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Blue.

Staring up to the blue skies above.

Sitting up dusting the dirt twigs and leaves from her body. Eyes trailing up the trench of disturbed dirt she was laying in. The parting of the sea of trees, broken and shoved on either side.

She winces grunting at the pops and clicks as she instinctively puts her bones back into place. Climbing out of the trench. Hearing a pained grunt to her right. Peering through the thicket catching a sliver of white.

There he was.

Moon Knight.

Sitting by the root of a tree with a gator staff pinning him to it. He looks to her with is glowing white eyes angry slits. A few moments and his mask unravels.

It wasn't Marc

And it definitely wasn't Steven.

The dark black orbs that would put any abyss to shame. One eye hemorrhage a fire red. Sweat weighing down his curls.

"Jake, I presume." She breaths.

Placing a foot on his shoulder for leverage taking hold of the staff. The corner of his mouth lifts, baring his teeth like a feral animal. Pulling with all her might she stumbles back the staff now free.

"So that's where you were." He chuckles. "I felt you three poking around."

"You're hurting them."

"I'm protecting them. And if that means getting my hands dirty or everyone seeing me as the villain then so be it." He spat. She steps over. Tearing her skirt, taking his hand and applying pressure to his stomach wound.

"Every villain sees themselves as the hero in their own story." She catches his eyes. His expression softens. He yells in pain as she presses harder.

"I've killed my father." She starts. "Each day my anger festered and ate away at my mind." she swallows the lump in her throat. "My soul...all I could do was think...how come he dies without the scars, the years of therapy, having to go the rest of my life without my mom." She sniffles.

"He got what was coming to him. Shed no tears for that bastard."

"I'm not crying for him." She corrects. "I'm crying for us." she sniffles. "My anger was still there finishing it's meal of me, my mother didn't come back, the scars didn't go away, and now I can't sleep because I see his eyes. I think that's why you make them forget." She looks to his eyes that was a black abyss of fury, rage, and anger bubbling not too far from the surface.

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