You've made it. This is the final chapter before the epilogue. Trigger warning. Don't start the song yet. 

Ten days after the the trial, the jury reaches a verdict. It shocks me when Jenna tells us this. I didn't expect it to happen so fast. A part of me wants to be optimistic, wants to assume that the jury was able to quickly agree on Tyler's innocence, but I'm not good at optimism. I have a bad feeling. Everything in me is screaming that this won't end well; telling me that this is it and Tyler will never be able to live the life he wants to. Even so, I refuse to tell Tyler that. As we sit on a metal bench joined by a few guards, he asks me what I think is going to happen. I remain silent. I can't bear to be honest right now.

"If you think I'm gonna lose, then just say that," Tyler finally pouts softly, his shoulders slumping. I think he's going to keep quiet, but he doesn't. His mouth opens to speak once again. "Josh, do you know what today is?"

Of course I know what today is. "Today is the day that everything changes," I say. And it's true. For better or for worse, everything will be different from here on out.

Tyler shakes his head softly, staring down at his shackled wrists. I see tears welling up in his large eyes. "It's my birthday, Josh." He sniffles a little. "I'm 25 now."

My eyes widen as I realize that he's right, I look over at him, but he won't meet my eyes. Today is December 1st, and not only is it the day that Tyler will be sentenced, but it is also the day he was born 25 years ago. Today will be his most important birthday, his second birth. Today, everything changes. I run a hand through my hair, then take a breath in preparation to speak. My train of thought is cut off when I hear that oh-so-familiar thud of ugly heels plopping down against tiled floors. Jenna is moving quickly towards Tyler, stopping at the bench and getting ready to sit down... on me.

I let out a scream as Tyler shouts, "What are you doing?", startling Jenna, who jumps back into a standing position before she can connect to my lap.

"What?" Jenna asks breathlessly, dramatically placing a hand on her chest.

"You're about to sit on him," Tyler says, narrowing his eyes at her as if she had known what she was about to do.

"Yeah, right," Jenna mutters, wiping her hands across her butt as if to dust it off from her close encounter. She tucks her hair behind her ear in transition. "So, are you ready?"

Tyler's head spasms before he replies. "Yeah, I think I am." He wipes his presumably sweaty palms on his jumpsuit, rubbing them together and exhaling evenly as if to prove his point. Jenna squats down in front of him and grabs his hands. They look each other in the eyes, neither of them needing to say a word. This irritates me. If Tyler ends up making me share a house with her, I'm gonna be pissed. I sigh loudly, breaking the silence of their moment.

"Tell her my name," I say resentfully.

Tyler's jaw drops a little. "Are you serious?"

"Just do it, Tyler," I answer, unable to meet his eyes.

"His name is Josh," he finally tells Jenna, whose eyes widen in... fear? It's almost like she knows something we don't. Tyler still clutches her hands, and she does the same, holding his hands like her life depends on it.

She looks in my general vicinity, unable to look me in the eyes because she cannot see them. "Why did you tell him to tell me that? I thought you hated me."

I laugh a little. "Oh, I do. But he doesn't. It's his birthday, Jenna. Let's just try and make the kid happy." Tyler translates my message with as much of a smile as his twitching face can manage, but it's good enough for me. Jenna nods in agreement, looking... apologetic? Something has changed in the way she acts around me, and I still just can't figure out what it is. I try to ignore it as talking ceases once again. I watch as Tyler takes a paperclip off of one of Jenna's documents, pocketing it. The silence is welcomed and light, almost pleasant.

And so, naturally, it doesn't last long.

A guard tells us that it's time to report to the courtroom, so Tyler and I stand.

"Happy birthday, Ty," Jenna whispers as she walks into the courtroom ahead of Tyler. I bound into the courtroom with a destination in mind.

I perch myself on Lyndsey's desk right next to her gavel, waiting for her to enter the courtroom. About five minutes later, she does, and I swear, she looks more beautiful than the last time I saw her. Her hair is up in a messy ponytail in the back of her head. Her makeup is natural, save for the dark wings on the corners of her eyes. I stare from my spot directly in front of her. She finally sits down and sorts through the several papers on her desk. I am absolutely entranced by her beauty. My hand moves of it's own accord, coming up and ghosting my fingertips over the apple of her cheek.

And for some reason, my hand doesn't go through. I can actually feel her face beneath my fingertips. The second my cool fingers touch her warm skin, her eyes flick upward. She scratches over the skin that I touched.

I can feel her, and she... she can feel me?

I test this by running the backs of my fingers over her neck. A soft blush rises to her cheeks, and she places her hand on the same spot that mine is on. Her hand goes straight through mine, but it doesn't matter. She can feel me. I laugh, pulling myself off the desk and roaming my hands all over her body. I tangle my fingers through her ponytail. I kneel in front of her, setting my hands on her waist. She can feel me. I don't know how or why, but I know she can feel me. And that's enough.

She takes in a deep breath, then finally speaks. "Has the jury reached a verdict?"

A man stands, and I avert my attention from my love's beautiful face to him. He is about to utter Tyler's fate; this is it. The man clears his throat, then looks at another juror for support. His companion smiles reassuringly, nodding once to encourage him to speak.

Start the song in the media. It's Oblivion by Bastille.

"We have, Your Honor. We the jury, impaneled and sworn to try the above entitled case, after having well and truly tried the matter, unanimously find as follows: As to the charge of four counts of second degree murder, we find the defendant, Tyler Robert Joseph, not guilty. As to the charge of four counts of first degree murder, we find the defendant, Tyler Robert Joseph, guilty."

Guilty. Four counts of capital murder. That's it. This is the end. It's over. Tyler will spend the rest of his life in a cell. I allow my head to drop onto Lyndsey's lap, wishing that I could be comforted by the warm skin of her thighs instead of the uncomfortable fabric of her robe. She places her hands on her lap and they fall straight through me. She sits like that for a few seconds. When I look up, her eyes are on focused on her lap, staring nearly directly into my gaze. She's trying to comfort me.

Finally, she looks up at Tyler. It seems like she's unable to look him in the face. When I turn to look at him, I can tell why she would feel that way. Tyler is a wreck. Tears stream down his face. But more than sadness in his eyes, there is emptiness. A void, eeriness is like an aura radiating from him. Lyndsey's attention focuses on the empty aisle directly in front of her.

"Mr. Joseph, on any normal occasion, court would be adjourned and I would take a few days to deliberate. However, in this case, that isn't necessary. You have been found guilty on four counts of first degree murder. You will serve four concurrent life terms with a chance of parole."

She looked down in my direction again for a moment. I realized what she had done. By giving Tyler his life sentences concurrently rather than consecutively, he would have the chance (albeit small) to get out of Belle Reve in 25 years. Lyndsey would take a lot of heat for that; she may even lose her job. Yet, she sacrificed all of that for Tyler... or maybe she did it for me. I feel my heart swelling in my chest as she clears her throat once again.

"The jury is thanked and excused. Court is adjourned." She bangs her gavel down, placing her hands in her lap once again. I stay with her for a while as Tyler is escorted away. I look down at Wentz, who looks disappointed in the sentencing. Jenna is sullen; paralyzed in shock. I almost feel bad for her... almost. Then I remember what she did to Tyler. She made Mark lie on the stand. She failed to tell Zack about things that were crucial to the strength of the case. It's her fault that this happened. Anger courses through my veins. It is only stifled when Lyndsey stands. I nearly miss it, but as she leaves, she whispers ever so quietly:

"Follow me."

I oblige, feeling a slight tug at my heart as I leave Tyler to follow my love. We walk side by side until we reach a room. Lyndsey enters and leaves the door open just long enough for me to slip inside. After shutting it, she flicks on the light, looking around the room.

"Are you here?" she asks. I trace my finger over her jawline in affirmation. "Are you a ghost? Touch my hand if you are." Again, my hand reaches her smooth, beautiful face. "So you're not a ghost. He's not schizophrenic, is he? It was you..." I bring my body flush with her's, running hy hands gently up her neck to convince her without words that I would never hurt her. "Listen to me. I have this... a have a bad feeling. The way Tyler was looking at me earlier... I think he's going to do something horrible. Please go protect him if you're capable of doing that. Do it for me?" And with those last four words, I am thrust into unconsciousness.

:.:

Tyler and I awaken in a cell in Central Containment. Everything I had heard about Belle Reve was right: I watch as two guards beat the life out of an unresponsive inmate. Tyler's cell is dirtier than his old one in the East wing. Bugs crawl up the walls and scurry across the floor. But the most noticeable change in environments is the sound. The yells of pained and crazed inmates fills the air, blood curdling screams that never end. Guards and psychopathic prisoners jeer and laugh, making the area a 24/7 haunted house.

"Ty, are you okay-" I start to ask.

"Don't you dare," Tyler says in a quiet voice that borders on insanity. "This is your fault. You wanted this. Don't you dare ask me if I'm okay. I'm not okay."

"I've been trying to help you, Tyler. Just let me protect you."

"Protect me?" Tyler yells, joining in the hollers of Central Containment. "Why would you want to do that?" He pretends to think about it. "Oh, it's for her, isn't it? I should have killed her. She's the one who had the final say in all this-"

"Leave her out of this!" I yell, anger flaring through my veins.

"Looks like I finally found your soft spot? What's your problem, Josh?"

I take a step toward him. "You really don't want to piss me off right now, Tyler."

The mentioned laughs. "What are you gonna do, huh? Kill me? Don't worry, I've already got that covered."

"What are you talking about-" I ask as Tyler pulls the paperclip from earlier out of his pocket. "Tyler, what are you going to do with that?"

"I saw a movie when I was a teenager. A guy cut off someone's face with a paperclip. I looked it up, looked up if that was really possible? Turns out that virtually anything can break flesh if you put enough pressure on it." And with that, Tyler presses the paperclip into his wrist, dragging it up his forearm into the pit of his elbow. He applies more force than I think humanly possible in order to break skin. The clip goes at least an inch into his arm, and I can hear the rip of tendons and squelch of veins bursting. I fear that the paperclip will go completely through his arm, but it never does. Even so, I have never seen so much blood. Tyler screams as he repeats the action over and over. My stomach flips as the meat falls off of the bones of Tyler's forearm. Blood splays from his arm in copious amounts. It lands in flecks across his face, and he spits after some of it lands in his mouth. Tyler reaches into the gash now, his opposite hand coming back drenched in blood. He smears it over the cell bars, over his clothes, through his hair. He digs his thumb into the incision, still calling out in pain as he encourages the blood flow to increase in amount and spill out at a more rapid pace. Black spots dot my vision and for the first time in my life, I feel tired. I know what this means.

"Tyler," I say, my voice coming out weak. "Tyler, please stop."

Tears stream down his face as he drops the paperclip and gets under the sheets on the thin mattress. "I'm done. I'm done. Let's just go to sleep."

I nod. "I'm so sleepy, Ty."

"I know. Me too. Let's go to bed." Blood continues to pour out of his arm as my eyes slip shut. I don't resist it. One final wave of drowsiness washes over me.

I sleep.