Hey all! This is the last chapter in "De Temps En Temps." Hopefully you'll find this ending more to your liking than the previous one. I like to consider it a bittersweet one. But that's all I'm saying. I do hope you've enjoyed this story and please do let me know what you think. R&R please! Thank you again and I will be writing newer pieces in the future. Mysterylover17

Epilogue

I closed the notebook when I had finished reading the account she so desperately wanted to hear. I knew she would not want to hear the depressing shit she had written down about Kyle and AIDS. It was after I closed the notebook that I looked over at my best friend. The first thing I noticed, besides the absence of most of her hair and the purple lesions that have taken over her skin, was the look of absolute peace that was on her face; her eyelids were closed and her cracked lips were set into a contented smile. I grinned in spite of the sad account I had just read, in spite of the memories that Mac's damn journal evoked. It was good to see her so peaceful, so content, almost happy.

It was a few more moments before my mind registered the loud, panicked beeping of one of the machines that she was hooked to. Once I comprehended that sound, I noticed that her chest no longer rose and fell in attempt to get ragged breaths into her lungs. I knew before the medical staff arrived that Mackenzie Sterling, my best friend and 'sister' had finally succumbed to the virus that had been attacking her body. I knew, before Doctor Mott said a word to me that she had died.

I was numb for several minutes, her notebook was clutched in my hands. Doctor Mott muttered some words that did not register in my brain and touched my shoulder ever so gently. My world had dissolved into a blur behind my tear filled eyes. But I did not allow those tears to fall. There would be time for that; there would be time for my own grieving. But there was something I still needed to do.

I rose on slightly unsteady legs and stumbled to the closet where I had shoved what Mac called her rucksack two weeks before. With trembling hands I searched the bag, my fingers brushing against bottles of pills that would no longer be opened, against her AZT beeper which I would no longer need to constantly set and reset. My fingers brushed against various pens and pencils that she had thrown in her sack, brushed against her wallet that contained credit cards that would no longer be used, money that would never be spent, phone numbers that would never be called, appointment cards with dates that would never be kept and photographs that would no longer be looked at. Each item my fingers brushed against caused my heart to break but I forced myself to continue my frantic search.

Finally, my fingers brushed against a cold metal chain. With shaking hands I removed the chain from the recesses of the rucksack and held it up to the light. It was a simple gold chain two pendants upon it. One was an elaborate cameo and the other was a simple gold band. The cameo was the first gift Holmes had ever given her; the ring was her engagement ring from Sherlock Holmes. With tearing eyes and legs that threatened to give out with every step I took, I staggered to Mackenzie's quickly cooling body and, with shaking hands; I somehow managed to clasp the chain around her neck. She'd want to be buried with that chain on. She had never removed it save when I had to when she was admitted to the

hospital and the doctors wanted to run tests. I had forgotten to put it back around her neck.

Quickly, I kissed my sister's forehead and ran a gentle hand over her lesion covered cheek. "I love you," I whispered, my voice harsh with sobs. "But I hope you're happy now, happy with him."

Without another word, I grabbed her notebook, threw her clothes into her rucksack which I then shouldered, and stumbled out of the hospital. I had prepared myself to brave the pelting rain which had fallen steadily on the seething metropolis for the past week. However, I was surprised when I stepped out of the double doors and was bathed in sunlight.

I smiled, thinking the sunlight was Mackenzie and Holmes smiling down at me. It was then that I allowed the tears to flow. After a few moments of crying, I wiped my eyes with the back of my hands and walked towards our loft, thinking about the phone calls and arrangements I would have to make. As I walked, I heard the faint clip-clop of a horse's hooves, one of those horse drawn carriages that so attracted tourists. The sound made me smile. Mackenzie was with Holmes finally and she was happy. Her happiness meant everything would eventually be all right.

Her funeral was an intimate one, with only myself, a few of my friends, Stephen and Mac's family present. Ever since she had been separated from Holmes, she became a recluse, with only her memories and me for company. Her family had selected me to give the eulogy and I mentally went over my speech as the priest droned on about how Mackenzie's suffering was finally over and how she was basking in the warm glow of God's love. Fuck him! He doesn't know her, never did, and never would. He talked only of her suffering from disease. He didn't know for how long she suffered before then. How she longed to—

He then motioned for me to come to the front of the church, interrupting my thoughts. I rose, my legs and heart heavy, and plodded to the lectern. I cleared my throat into the microphone, getting everyone's attention. When I saw the pain in everyone's eyes, I decided against using the speech I had written out.

"Hey everyone. In case you don't know, I'm Becky Marshall. A few days before she died, Mac asked me to give her eulogy. I don't know why, I think it's just cause she knows I hate speakin' in public and she probably just wanted to get back at me for all the shit I put her through in over the ten years I was privileged to know her and call her my best friend and sister," her mother chuckled though tears at my candid observation. "I had this long drawn out speech prepared, painting pictures of Mac's life in rainbows and puppy dogs. But fuck that!" A gasp was heard in the church at my use of language but I didn't care. I had to speak from the heart. "Mac, throughout her life, went through a lotta shit. Her parents had a messy divorce when she was little, she was a total nerd and was constantly picked on in school, she was raped and got AIDS and she was separated from the one man who stole her heart. While I know this is a really sad time for everyone, including me cause, I mean I fuckin' loved that kid. But I can't bring myself to feel sad cause I know it would be for my own selfish reasons. Actually, I'm happy."

I paused when I heard the loud gasps of protest and mini cries of outrage. I smiled at those present and thought of how Mac would have smiled and laughed at the pandemonium I was causing. "Hang on guys. I'm not fuckin' happy she's dead. I fuckin' loved her like she was my sister. But, I'm happy cause I know Mac's at peace. And I don't simply mean that she no longer has to face her dreaded disease. I mean her suffering of a broken heart is finally gone. I'm happy because I know she has been reunited with her long lost love." I opened her notebook to a page that I had marked. "Allow me to read you a passage from Mac's notebook."

I cleared my throat and began to read. "'As much as I love my family and as much as I love Beck, I cannot suppress the desire to die. Life for me is empty. It has been empty for some time; it has been empty since he and I were separated. I would give anything, including my life, to be with Holmes once more. I know, deep within my heart, that when I do finally die, Holmes will be there, waiting for me at those Pearly Gates with Saint Peter. It'll be at that moment, when I am reunited with Sherlock Holmes, the man who has my heart and soul, that I'll be happy once again.'" I closed the notebook and looked at the faces of the people present. They all had looks of surprise.

"That entry," I continued doggedly, "was written before Mackenzie was raped and before she was diagnosed with AIDS. So perhaps now you can understand why I am happy she is no longer with us."

I spoke for a few more minutes longer, saying, what Mac would call the 'usual bullshit' about what a great friend she was and how much she'll be missed. Then we trudged to the graveyard where her casket was lowered into the ground. As I stood there, staring into the yawning abyss, I could have sworn that I felt Mackenzie's arms around me and heard her voice in my ear saying: "Thanks for understanding. I love you Beck; we love you."