Author's note!: So here it is! The final chapter! Now, there's been a lot of Blaine related anger in the reviews, and to that I say "I'm sorry, but that's exactly what I was going for!" But I hope that this helps. I figured that this story should end the same way it started. This was my first piece of work I've shared with others, and I want to thank all of you for your support and favorites and hits and reviews! It really meant a lot that you all would take time out of your day to let me know how I did on my chapters. You all were fantastic inspiration for me, and I thank you, fromt the bottom of my heart. So here it is, the final chapter, and the final goodbye :) I love you all! -Eris

Disclaimer!: I still don't own the BDS...shocker!

Chapter 27: The Final Goodbye

*Blaine*

I didn't go to hell. That was a good sign.

Well, at least, not yet. I wasn't sure where I was going. I had refused to go when I had been called. Not because I was scared of where I was going to end up. After everything I had gone through, being stuck in an eternal hellfire didn't hold as much fear as I had originally expected. After the perpetual cold of Boston, I welcomed the fire. Bring on the heat.

So no, fear was not keeping me fixated to my grave.

It wasn't lack of acceptance either. I was aware that I was dead. My heart stopped beating, my lungs stopped breathing, and my soul left. I am dead. I know that, no worries. I was never one to bullshit myself. Not ever. Dying had been a rather simple process actually. All you have to do is let go. Just take a deep breath, and let go.

Easy as one, two, and three.

But still, my soul refused to leave my headstone. And I subconsciously knew why, sure, but I wondered how long I could hold on before my soul gave up.

All I wanted was a goodbye, and I knew they wouldn't let me down. They just couldn't.

"Come on kid, can we please leave now?" The man to my left groaned. I cut my eyes to him.

"No one's making you stay, why don't you just go?" I answered bitingly, petting the cat in my lap. I didn't really know where the cat came from, it had shown up with the man.

The man to my left had been the first one to meet me when I had died. At first, I though he was Jesus, it was the shaggy hair and beard. However, on closer inspection, I realized he looked like a very, very, very burnt out Jesus. A Jesus who looked like he enjoyed his beer and pot a little too much if you catch my drift.

You can call me the Funny Man

So far, from what I had been able to gather, the Funny Man was supposed to help me crossover. Well, he was doing a pretty crappy job of it, if you ask me. I mean, I hadn't crossed over had I? He kind of sucked as a motivator. He'd been trying for the last six days to make me move, and I had refused.

He, in return, had refused to leave me alone. So he sat by me through the shock of being dead. Through the sad, and through my own funeral.

Gotta say, I could've gone without seeing that.

My mom and step dad were in the worst shape I had seen them in. Well my mom at least. She was shattered. Completely shattered. I felt horrid, but what was I supposed to do? Come back to life? Ian probably could've shown a little emotion, but what did I expect? He probably saw it as poetic justice for what I did to his little girl.

My real dad was there too. Now, for that I felt terrible. My dad lived in Boston after my parents split, and I hadn't seen him once since I was there. He couldn't face the suicide thing. It scared him, but I didn't really hold it against him. I couldn't face it myself. He did write to me though, and I wrote back, so at least he had those.

And apparently, he had won the fight for my body. I had been buried in Boston. Which, admittedly was not my first choice. I did miss the warm, that would be nice, but I supposed it would be wasted on a skeleton.

Even worse then seeing my parents there, was seeing the Kookoo Kids. Ted and Anna especially. Ted had sat next to his uncle, and he cursed the boys with everything he possibly could. His heart was broken, and I had nothing for him. You're not allowed to talk to the living, the Funny Man had told me that over and over again.

Anna was the hardest, considering how we had ended things.

"And when they find your body, do you want me to speak at your funeral?"

"Actually I hope you do. Let people know who I really was."

How ironic was that? But then again, it was me. I was irony. At it's highest level.

Tina and Mika had come to my funeral, and I was glad. Mika was my hero, because she had figured out that I hadn't killed myself. I had been terrified that the British boy would've gotten away with it. Terrified.

If I had gone on the books as a suicide, I would've betrayed Ted, Anna and Jimmy. I would've ruined Doc Jay's credibility as a doctor, and I would've broken my parents hearts for real.

Not to mention crush Connor and Murphy under an unbearable amount of guilt from which they'd never escape.

All in all, I had a decent turn out for my funeral, but there were two people there that hadn't shown up.

Asses.

Which brings us back to the fixation to a headstone. I wasn't going to leave, until I got to say goodbye to Connor and Murphy. Who cares what the Funny Man said.

"Look, kid, they won't be able to see you anyways, and what makes you so sure that they'll even show up?"

"Because they'll need to say goodbye too, duh." I rolled my eyes. He growled.

"You are so not worth it."

"Excuse me? You are like the meanest angel I have ever met."

"I'm the only angel you've ever met."

"Point proven." I smirked. "Look as soon as they come by, I'll leave with you. And peacefully too."

"You don't seem like the type to do anything peacefully."

"And you do? You look like Jesus on cocaine!"

"I wouldn't mention that to the big guy." Funny Man chuckled. I raised an eyebrow.

"I'm going to heaven?"

"Come one, let's go find out!"

"Not until they come say goodbye."

"Kid look, I know Connor and Murph, and they ain't coming."

I chewed on my lip. I hadn't considered that, was it possible that they truly wouldn't come? I mean, anything is possible I suppose, but that?

I opened my mouth to reply, but was stopped by a string of curse words, in a achingly familiar brogue. I turned towards the Funny Man and stuck out my tongue. He blew out a breath. "Well, I'll be damned."

Oh I hope not. That would mean I was damned too.

And, because fate decided to finally throw me a bone, Connor and Murphy came walking up to my grave. And yikes, those two looked terrible.

Both of them had yellowing bruises on their face, and walked with the gait of those in extreme pain, or misery. I was willing to bet on both. Murphy's hands were bandaged up tight, and his eyes looked broken. Connor's eyes were overworked so to speak, like he was overanalyzing everything a few thousand times. They both looked more dead then I had.

"Whoa."

"They can't hear you."

"Yeah, I figured."

The boys sort of stood awkwardly above me and glanced at the stone behind me. Points for my dad. He had gotten a headstone there in record time, probably felt like it was the least he could do. Wasn't anything pretty, just a slab of marble with my name and two dates.

"Tis fuckin' weird." Murphy finally sighed.

"Aye. Tis." Connor sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "I don't really know what we're supposed ta fuckin' say."

"Well, we just talk aye? Like she was here?"

"Suppose first thing we should do is apologize." Connor muttered. "Lass, I hope ye know dat we never meant fer something like dis ta happen ta ye. We didn't expect dem ta be able ta get ye. Never even crossed our minds."

"It should've." Murphy whispered. Connor nodded.

"We didn't think it through. Ta be honest, we went into dis whole situation blind. Completely blind. We didn't know shit about this gang. At least, when we started, we had an inside-"

"Good ole' Roc." Murphy smiled.

"Aye, Roc, our fuckin' Funny Man aye?" Connor smiled. I glanced towards my Funny Man. He only smiled and winked.

"We lost him too."

"Aye. We lost our heads, went in half cocked, and not thinking. Cost Roc his life. We vowed not ta get stuck in a situation like dat again. Looks like we aren't very good at keeping promises."

"I should've listened ta ye." Connor sighed. "Ye said so yerself. Ye had a bad feeling about dat hit, and I told ye not ta worry about it. Looks like Blainey was right again."

"Was she ever wrong?"

No. No I was not. Figures, I have to die for you two to realize that.

"We're so fuckin' sorry Blaine."

I wish I could talk to them. I didn't blame them. I wanted them to know that. I mean, I had been on barrowed time as it were. Everyone has a fate they have to play out. Live is a play, there's big parts and small parts. I was a supporting role. I did exactly what was written out for me.

It was my fate to die at the hands of a gang leader that the Saints of South Boston had pissed off. Granted, it was the last thing I had ever expected to happen, sure, but it was the part I was born to play. I had been a good little puppet.

"We're also sorry about yer good name." Murphy sighed.

"Aye, Smecker really had ta paint quite da picture fer yer Ma and Da apparently." Connor smiled ruefully. "Street kid wasn't it?"

"Aye." Murphy nodded. "Livin' at some halfway house."

"Farthest thing from da truth. Fuckin' halfway house."

Halfway house probably would've been cleaner….

"But, it did give Smecker a good excuse as to why he was able ta give them all of yer stuff. Fuck, dat was hard."

"Aye. But yer parents got yer belongings…well, most of them. Me and Murphy wanted something ta remember ye by."

"Aye. Dat we did. We took da only things we couldn't imagine not being in da flat."

"Bet ye can guess what we took."

If you idiots do anything to that bear, I'll kill you. Or if you screw with my iPod…

"We needed something ta remind us of ye Blainey. Something other den yer headstone."

Murphy reached into his jacket pocket with his left hand, wincing the whole time, and he pulled out an old looking blue rosary. He grinned at it. "Me favorite cousin, Fiona, she gave dis ta me before I left fer America. She was convinced dat I was headed for hellfire. So she gave this to me fer da trip. I have one though, so I'm givin' this one ta ye. Mostly because I'm pretty sure it'll piss ye off. And seein as ye compared church ta Wal Mart. Yer gonna need all da help ye can get."

Oh you're right, it's pissing me off. Come on dude, you shove religion down my throat when I can't talk back? Not cool Murphy. Not cool at all.

Murphy laid the rosary on the top of my headstone and took a deep breath. "Fuck I need a smoke." He closed his eyes. "I'm sorry lass. I truly am. I wanted ta thank ye, for being there fer me when I needed someone. Ye helped me more den ye know. And I promise Blaine, we'll get dat motherfucker for ye. I swear on me own soul dat we'll wipe out dat entire gang. Evil bastards, the lot of them." Murphy knelt down and pressed his lips against the stone. "Goodbye lass. I'll miss ye. Ye were da little sister me and Connor never really wanted." He gave a half hearted smile. "I love ye. And ye know what? God'll take ye. I promise."

I smiled then, surprised he even remembered that conversation. It was one of the first ones we had ever had. And yet, he remembered.

He walked back, and turned. I could see he was shaking, and I wished then that I could give him a hug. Oh God, poor Murphy.

"Ye comin?" Murphy asked his brother.

"Be dere in a second." Connor answered as Murphy walked away. Once he was alone, Connor smiled. "I fuckin' owe ye lass, ye have no idea. First off, I need ta give ye dis." he pulled out a crumpled five dollar bill and placed it under the rosary. "Dat, is because ye won da bet. Murph and Tina are well on dere way ta being a couple. Against all fuckin' odds." He gave his infamous shit eating grin. "I had ta wait until I was alone ta tell ye dat, because he's still denyin' dat he's back wit Tina, but I know better."

Hot damn, I rock. Hardcore. Good for Murphy, he deserves to be happy.

"I suppose I should put another five on dere, because I knew ye were hintin' at making a bet concerning me and Mika."

Actually, I made that bet with Murphy…and I'm expecting him to pay up at some point too.

"It's looking pretty good." He smiled. "She had her own 'Comin' ta Jesus' as it were. Ye made quite an impression on her, ta be honest. Well, yer, uh, passin', did."

Death Connor. You can say it, I know you can. It's not that hard.

"Impacted da lot of us really." He ran a hand through his hair again. "Reminded me why I do dis in da first place." He smiled. "I wanted ta thank ye. For a whole mess of things. Firstly, thank ye fer taking care of me idiot brother when I couldn't. He needed someone ta lean on, and ye let him. Tis a rarity, fer dat kind of compassion these days, so thank ye fer helping him, den both of us. We asked a fuckin' lot of ye, and ye didn't disappoint once. It couldn't have been easy, but ye stuck in dere wit us."

You two are family. I'd do it all again in a heartbeat.

"And like me brother said, we'll take down da man who did this ta ye. I swear on it. They won't fuckin' get away with this. Not after everything they've done ta my family. Dat entire syndicate will fall. Too fuckin' dangerous ta live. Public menace."

Don't do it. No more revenge, it'll only make it worse. You're even now, the British boy will leave you alone.

"But, we can't do much about it right now. Murphy and me, we're not in da best shape. We might need a little…recovery time, if ye will. But we won't forget ye lass. Couldn't even if we tried. I hope ye can be happy now. Ye deserve ta be happy."

So do you two. You need a life that isn't centered around death. Try living you two. For me?

"I should probably go back ta Murphy now." Connor knelt down and kissed the marble too. "I fuckin' love ye lass. I hope ye know dat. And we're sorry we didn't go ta yer funeral…we just…we tried, we just couldn't…" He smiled ruefully. "We couldn't. Dat's da best way I can explain it. No hard feelings?"

I will hold a grudge for the rest of my existence.

"I love ye Blaine. I hope ye can remember dat, above everything else." Connor stood up then and walked the same directions his brother had. "Goodbye Blaine."

I smiled, genuinely, for the first time since I had died. They were going to be okay.

"So, you ready to go now?" Rocco asked me. I wiped away two tears from my face, I hadn't even realized they were there.

"Yeah, I think it's about time I finally relieved Earth of my presence, don't you?"

"I've only been saying that for the last six days, but noooooooooooooo, no one ever listens to the Funny Man."

"Sounds like ignoring you is an age old tradition, and I'm never one to break tradition." I smirked.

"I'm going to have my hands full with you, aren't I?"

"Damn straight."

I watched my boys disappear towards the entrance of the graveyard, and I could almost see them for what they really were. They were Saints, protectors of the innocent, the killers of killers. Blah blah blah. But more then that, they were good men. They truly were.

They were the guys who would hold the door open for someone else. The guys who are willing to stop indifference. They're the guys who you'd want backing you up in any situation. Extraordinary men. Superheroes. And I had been lucky enough to be thrown into their lives.

"Maybe this God guy knows what he's doing after all."

"You'd be surprised." Rocco smiled. "Now come with me would you? I think it's about time we moved on."

"Sounds good to me." I was ready to rest now.

I had played my part, done my job, and I was finally free.

Free of the pain, the struggle, the fight and the guilt. I was more alive in death then I had ever been living.

Ironic, isn't it?

*Boss*

Hunter walked up to the grave with a lead ball in the pit of his stomach. This wasn't his first grave, and it certainly wasn't the first person he had put in a grave, but then again, that wasn't just any body underneath either. It was a woman, who hadn't wronged him in any way.

He placed a single rose on the top of her headstone, which he noted also held a rosary, and a five dollar bill. Looks like he had just missed her other visitors.

This wasn't unusual for him. Actually, it was common practice for him to visit the graves of people he had killed. Respect. Tyson had taught him respect, especially for the lives he had personally taken. After all, it was true that he had killed a man, however justified or unjustified that killing had been.

The grave visiting had always been treated with reverence, almost a calming experience for him. He settled his devils here. The guilt was usually left at a graveside. And he prayed that it would be the same this time.

The girl had been used to prove a point, and brutally. He had heard from one of his many 'friends' that her death hadn't been ruled a suicide. He was alright with that. It wasn't suicide by any means, and she still died. It still hurt the saints, and his prints were not on that knife. He was safe.

Well, he would be safe long enough to get out of the country, that much was sure.

The extensive operation he'd been working on for years, that had been set up to the best it would be in the East Coast. Boston had been the final nail in that coffin so to speak. Boston and their Saints. He had taken care of both of those dilemmas, and now he wanted to go home.

England's operation was already up and running, that was the problem. And the Richardson syndicate, well they were at an all time high. If they were going to expand, they needed to do so now. He wasn't sure how the expansion was going to go in his next destination.

The capital should be easy, a city is a city. However, the rural areas might be a little more difficult to get to, but he had to try. His pride as an Englishman was at stake there. And he had to make Oliver Cromwell proud, the man was a national hero to the Brits, and if he was going to take the same country Cromwell had by storm, then he'd better do a damn good job of it.

He would too. Because, like the Saints, he was a survivor. He was willing to do anything to live. But, unlike the Saints, he didn't have anything weighing him down. Those two had people they loved. Hunter? Hunter had no one. All he had now was his pride.

The worst enemy you can have is the one who has nothing to lose.

Although the pain was still shattering to him now, he was comforted by the fact that his fate, and the fate of the Saints would someday intersect once more. And when that finally happened, he would be the one with nothing to lose, therefore, making him the stronger opponent.

"My dear, I am terribly sorry about what 'appened to you." He whispered to the air. "You 'ave my deepest apologies. I understand it wasn't your choice to be pulled into my little game. But like any player knows, if your opponent leaves 'is queen open, you 'ave to take 'er."

He bowed his head and sent a quick prayer up for the girl, and her fate once her soul had left the earth, then he turned toward the entrance of the graveyard, his thought on the future.

Yes, they would meet again someday.

He found, with a smile on his face, that he almost couldn't wait for it.

So, for the last time, I sit here and beg you for reviews :) will you do it? for me? :DDD