Epilogue: Gravestones

He walked through the graveyard, feeling the winter chill as the bitter wind blew across his face. He was wearing a heavy coat and a scarf, but still the cold snuck its way in, chilling his body to the bone. He was going to need to stop at a coffee place on the way home, he knew already. Maybe walking here wasn't such a good idea after all.

He breathed out through his nostrils, watching his breath form a cloud around his nose. He walked slowly down the path, taking no notice of the long dead leaves he was walking over. He only had one thing in mind right now. He knew that seeing the grave would hurt. But he knew he had too.

He turned off the path, walking over the graves of people whom he never knew that had been long forgotten by their families and relatives. No flowers graced the graves, no ornaments of any kind, and the engravings on the stones were starting to wear. It would be a long time yet before they were unreadable, but he could tell that they had been here for years.

He continued walking through the cemetery, where the headstones grew smaller and newer, until finally he stopped. He stared for a moment at the engraving on the headstone and knelt down, staring at it, still disbelieving. He stayed this way for several minutes, feeling tears start to burn in his eyes. He blinked them back, clearing his throat.

"Nineteen years. To this day, exactly." He looked down at his watch. "At this time, you were working. There was nothing wrong. She was still missing, but she had been for a week. You knew there was nothing you could do. In four hours, you were in surgery. In eight, you were dead."

He didn't know why he was so emotional, but his eyes continued to burn as he stared at the gravestone that paid homage to his former identity.

"I was dead," he whispered, his voice constricted. A few moments passed before he could speak again.

"I have to thank you. You died, so that I could live. You knew it was your time to leave. And if you hadn't, you would be miserable and I wouldn't exist. So...thank you..."

He knew it was weird to be talking to his own headstone, but at the same time, it didn't feel like his. It felt like a different person...it was a different person. Somewhere along the line, he wasn't exactly sure where, he had stopped thinking of himself as Mark Evans and instead was thinking of himself as Arthur Newton. He was certain it had something to do with the woman he had met in Bath all those years ago.

"You thought you were happy with Alex all those years ago," he continued finally. "You didn't know what happiness was. I sound cruel, but it's true. Sarah's completed everything that I wanted to be, and I settled with her. I own a paint shop. It's so relaxing. You'd be proud. In fact, you are proud. God, this is weird."

He coughed, staring at the cold slab of stone in front of him. He had gone numb from cold, but had not noticed.

"It's taken me nineteen years, but I had to say goodbye to Mark Evans. And...thank you."

He stood, staring at the engraving one last time, knowing that he would never come back to visit. Mark Evans was dead, and had been for nineteen years. His life had come full circle since the day of his death, and he wouldn't change anything for the world.

As he walked out of the cemetery, searching for the nearest Costa or Starbucks, Arthur Newton smiled. Finally, the past was at rest.

Rant

The title of this fic was a promise to you. 'I swear they all live.' And although metaphorically this isn't true, and Iggy died along the way, I feel I have kept this promise.

Thank you all who have stuck through both of these fics, for those of you who have been reading for months or even years, from my very first fic.

With Mark Evans gone, I too shall take my leave. Thank you all so much for an amazing three year run.