Authors Note: Here it is, folks. The last Chapter. I had such a blast writing this story. And as much as I would have loved to have continued it, I felt that this was a natural place for it to end. It feels right.

I actually cried while writing this chapter so I hope that might be some indicator that it's good or even emotional in some way. I sincerely hope you've enjoyed this as much as I've enjoyed writing it. And thank you for your support :) You know who you are!

13

Weeks passed, but Edward remained the same. He never changed. And he never would.

He had barely moved since Greta had left the castle. He sat uselessly in the old chair beneath the fireplace, sometimes for several hours without moving. Not even to blink, or breathe.

The silence of the castle was even more harrowing on this night. Edward thought that if he stayed here for even another day, it might consume him completely.

He couldn't blame Greta for running away. It was to be expected. If the past had taught Edward anything, it was that their friendship had not been made to last.

He had made many friends at one time, in that pretty little town below. But eventually, one by one, they all turned against him.

They feared him, just as Greta did now, for the very same reasons.

Unwillingly, Edward was now doomed to live forever in a world that had entirely forgotten him.

For the very first time in years uncounted, he wished he had never been made.

And yet, he did not feel compelled to end his own life.

It was simply not in his nature to do so, for his father had instilled within him a great curiosity for life.

Edward had not been built for self-destruction. A piece of his creator's mind lived within his own. And that fragment contained the very same passion for living that the Inventor had been afflicted with in life.

It was never supposed to be this way. He was never supposed to be left with these horrible blades, that had no right to be called hands at all.

Perhaps he may stop working someday, and finally be gifted some relief from his pain.

The unfinished creature had become so lost in his own mind, he had barely noticed footsteps lightly traveling up the stairs and towards the attic.

When Greta appeared in the archway of the attic, it took Edward several moments to respond to her. He truly did not believe that she would ever return.

He had so resigned himself to a long and endless future to which he would fade away from all living memory, never to be seen or spoken of again.

But now she was here again. Standing there, with a box in her hands. Edward simply stared at her in surprise, hardly blinking.

Greta sighed, but very slowly a smile began to appear on her lips.

"Hello, Edward." She said, somewhat sadly as she began to recall her last, angry words to him.

With some degree of caution, Edward slowly stood up from his chair. He failed to completely trust what his eyes were seeing. And he remained almost deadly still, as though this were some kind of trick or trap.

Greta could perfectly understand his apprehension. When she last left this place, she had made a firm and rigid decision to never come back.

But minds change. And so do hearts.

Her eyes hid from Edward's gaze for a couple of uncomfortable moments as she slowly approached him, but stopped at an appropriate distance.

As his discomfort grew, Edward felt a strong urge to speak. He still had much to explain, about his past, about what had happened…if she would let him.

"Greta…." He began.

"Ah, ah!" Greta interrupted firmly with a finger to the air as she looked up at Edward with a soft, sympathetic gaze.

"….I made a promise." She explained simply.

She had been mistaken. There was no monster here. Her fear had created one from nothing.

In her panic, she had reacted harshly but had failed to look closer.

It wasn't until she had found herself crying and contemplating over her great-uncle's notes, that she realized something vital. And despite herself, was deeply surprised to discover it.

She no longer cared what had happened in the past. The only thing that mattered, was this moment.

And right now, she did not see a creature or a killer.

She only saw a kind and very gentle man, who was only one part away from becoming whole and complete.

Just as his creator had always intended.

With great care, Greta set the box she had been holding down to the floor. She bent down to lift the lid and place it down beside the box. Gingerly, she reached into it and pulled out a pair of beautiful, well crafted and very real, hands.

Standing up straight, Greta slowly walked towards Edward while holding the hands up for him to see. There was a small, proud smile written across her face. But it was an apology, more than an offering. One which she hoped Edward would accept.

Edward's dark eyes widened in amazement. Being offered a pair of hands, as a gift for the second time, and by the great-niece of his maker….it did not even feel real.

He reached out slowly with one of his blades. The metal made gentle contact with the synthetic material. They were even more life-like than the ones his creator had made.

And he could touch them, as best as he could. They were real after all.

Edward looked at Greta with an unsure gaze. Was he deserving of such a gift? Had they really been made for him?

If there was any possible way for him to express just how grateful he was, Edward surely would have done so.

But words were not enough. They utterly failed to represent his heart in this moment.

Greta smiled tearfully at him and nodded as if she could read his thoughts.

"….do you like them?" She asked, her voice shaking just a little in anticipation as a few stray tears rolled down her cheeks.

Edward smiled at her.

The End