Kings And Bishops (The List)
Kings and Bishops (The List): Epilogue - A Celebration of an Ending
On July the third Kellin Quinn Bostwick and Victor Vincent Fuentes were ambushed, and killed by the police as they tried to escape with their car. The vehicle exploded, leaving almost nothing of the bodies to be found.
The police officer, who did it, sergeant Rory Jefferson, became a hero, he got a medal… and, of course, a promotion.
Kellin’s mother, Mary Peters, ex-Bostwick, organized a small unofficial funeral, although the police refused to give her the bodies of the criminals. She ended up burying empty coffins. Surprisingly many people came to the celebration – Kellin’s ex-wife Jenny, Mike – Vic’s brother, some of their colleagues, old friends from their childhood, even Stan Taylor, no matter how strange his presence there was. People cried. Oh yes, there were a lot of tears and apologies spilled. Despite how horrible the media made Kellin and Victor sound, these people knew them, for real, they loved them and didn’t care what they had done. They were forever going to remember them… And maybe, just maybe they’d look up at the sky sometimes, and wonder… if they aren’t watching them from “above”…
Almost all of Kellin and Vic’s belongings were returned to their relatives, but, strangely, there were a few things missing – the police had found a guitar case, but no guitar, also, pencils and erasers, but no sheets or drawings. A quite big amount of money was gone as well. In the end they concluded that the things had burned in the explosion, after the two men tried to take them with them.
Brigitte, Victor’s ex-wife, got married to a rich, but quite sneaky businessman, who ended updivorcing her and taking her fashion house, as well as most of her money. For once, she found out how Vic felt when she did the same to him… She didn’t regret a thing, though, because some people never change.
...And that was it. Bonnie and Clyde had to die, that’s just how the story ended, it always ends this way. A beautiful, heroic death of two people, tangled in a complicated, sweet, but tragic love relationship. However, they were still the bad guys. Happy endings don’t include the villains staying alive and being happy, because that’s simply not how the story works.
Give people a dramatic death and they’d be glad, because they’d know it’s right.
Maybe it really was the end of the story, the grand finale… But truth is, there is a liiiittle bit more than that.
Five months later, somewhere in Mexico, Harry was trying to cook breakfast. And failing.
He furrowed eyebrows at the cookbook, trying to figure out what went wrong this time. It had to be the milk. It must be the milk.
“Hey, good mornin’. What are you doing?”
He looked up to see his boyfriend, Gerard Bishop, standing at the door and watching him with a curious look. He looked so funny in his baggy T-shirt he usually slept in, way too big for him, and in that strange light pink color the purple becomes after too much washing. He yawned and ran his hand through his long wavy hair, now pretty messy, because he had just gotten up.
“You weren’t supposed to get up so early, this had to be a surprise!”, Harry protested, frowning.
“Well, I’ll pretend to be surprised then, once you’re done.”, Gerard shrugged. “Okay? Okay. Let’s try again.” He coughed. “Hey! What are you doing?”
Harry chuckled.
“Cooking breakfast for you, so get your ass here and help, because I think those pancakes aren’t supposed to look this way.”
“Aw, pretending to be a cook, aren’t we.”, his boyfriend teased him. “Lemme take a look.”
He walked to him, sleepily stumbling along the way, and looked over Harry’s shoulder at the “pancakes”.
“Dear lord, Kellin, what have you done to the poor things.”, he shook head.
…Oh, yeah. Did I forget to mention that Harry used to be Kellin awhile ago, and Kellin is me? No? Oops, sorry, that’s just be being bad at storytelling.
“Is it too bad? Do you think they’re eatable?”, I bit my lower lip, worried that I messed up.
“Let’s say…”, Vic started slowly, carefully picking his words, “…that probably if you eat them you wouldn’t die from food poisoning or something… Yeah, I guess you could say that you could eat them…”
“Oh, so they aren’t that b-”, I started enthusiastically.
“…If you’re on a deserted island, you have no other food left, and the only alternative is eating your own feet.”, he finished, interrupting me.
“Hey, that was rude!”, I lightly punched him in the shoulder.
He laughed softly.
“I was just kidding, babe, the pancakes look just fine. Maybe if we add some jam or something they’d be the most delicious thing I’ve ever tasted.”
“Woah, woah, don’t go too far with the compliments, Vic, they’re starting to sound unrealistic!”, I giggled.
“No, I’m just telling the truth! Those are the best pancakes I’ve ever seen!”, and to prove his point he stuffed one in his mouth.
I chuckled at his silliness.
“Do you seriously like them?”
Victor nodded. “They’re the best.”, he wrapped an arm around my waist. “You’re the best.”
“Impossible. We can’t be both the best, the pancakes and I, you must chose one. Me, or them, Fuentes?”, I grinned.
He pretended to hesitate for awhile.
“…Pancakes.”, he said at last, grabbed the plate, where I had put them, and ran away with it.
“Hey! Hey, get back here, that wasn’t fair!”, I yelled after him. “I hadn’t even tried them!”
I let out a deep sigh and rushed after him.
I got him in the corridor and after a short struggle, I took the plate from him before he trips somewhere and drops my masterpiece on the floor.
“You jerk.”, I shook head and ruffled his hair. “Do you want me to make more?”
“No!”, his eyes widened in horror. “…Um, I mean, no, thanks, Kellin, you don’t need to. Umm… those are enough.”
I narrowed eyes at him suspiciously. “You don’t like them at all, do you.”
“Honestly? Yeah, they could be better… I’m not saying that they’re bad, though, not at all.”, Vic prevaricated with a small half-smile.
“Liar.”, I poked him. “You don’t have to eat them if you don’t want to, you know. I just suck at cooking.”
“I can help you improve!”, he grinned enthusiastically. “And about the pancakes, I do need to eat them, because you made them for me, and I know you put a lot of effort in trying to make me happy.”
“Yeah, true, but I failed.”, I shrugged.
“Nope, you didn’t. You failed at actually preparing a breakfast worth eating. But you never fail to make me happy, Kells, ever.”, he gently touched my cheek, smiling.
“Mm, I’m glad.”, I winked.
“Now.”, Victor left a small kiss on my forehead (he had to stand on his toes to reach it) “Let’s teach you how to make proper pancakes, shall we?”
“Sounds great.”
“Awesome.”, he took my hand and started leading me towards the kitchen.
“My mom used to make great pancakes.”, I shared, smiling a little.
“She probably still does.”, he shrugged and went silent for a moment, thinking, perhaps hesitating if he should add something. “…Do you miss her?”
“You mean… since we “died”?”, I looked at him. “I don’t know… maybe. I’m not sure, I mean, I’ve learned how to live without her long ago, so it doesn’t make much difference. It’s more that I regret that I didn’t get to know her better. And I feel bad for making her think I’m dead.”
“I see…”, Vic nodded understandingly, while opening the fridge in search for the products he needed.
His brother knew we’re okay, he pretty much arranged our departure and our fake identities. Since then the Fuentes brothers got close again, even though nobody knew they’re related – everyone thought they’re just really good friends or something. However, I often find Vic on the phone with Mike in the evenings, they talk almost every day, and meet at least once a month. I’m happy they managed to fix their relations, and I like Mike a lot, he’s a great guy, but I can’t help but feel a bit jealous for what they have. I can’t afford to contact any of my relatives, because I’m not that close with them and I can’t be sure if it would be safe. The only family I have now is Vic.
“Do you miss it?”, I suddenly said, almost surprising myself too.
“Huh?”, Victor looked up. “Miss what?”
“You know… all the fun we had, being on the run, breaking the rules, giving bad people what they deserve, even spending nights in shitty motels…”
“Oh…”, he put the bottle of milk he was holding down on the table and knitted eyebrows, thinking. “Yeah, I suppose I miss it, a bit. But on the other hand, back then we didn’t have a few things we do now.”
“Yeah? What are those things?”
“Well… First, safety. We were constantly cautious, afraid that we might get caught, forever jumpy and paranoid. Now we can calmly walk around, without worrying about covering our faces, we can go to the supermarket without being scared that someone might recognize us. And second, now we have a home.”
“You’re right, yeah…”, I nodded, looking out of the window.
A home… Yes, that was a big change, especially for me, someone, who has never really had one. Our house is just by the lake, so I wake up to this wonderful view every day, I’d go on the porch with my cup of coffee, and think: “Yup. That’s it, that’s my home. I deserve this.” Not just a place, where I live, but a shelter, like that old attic back there in Oregon, somewhere, where I knew I could spend the rest of my life, and I’d be glad to do so. Vic was right. We are safe here, we are happy, and that’s all we need.
“Besides,” he continued, “it’s not like we’re dying from boredom. We still have a lot of fun things to do here.”, he winked.
I raised an eyebrow with a small grin, watching him start mixing something in a big bowl.
“Are you hinting at something, Fuentes?”
“Actually, I wasn’t, but now, when you put it this way…”, he grinned back, “…What are you suggesting?”
“Let’s make the pancakes first, and then I’ll show you…”, I giggled meaningfully, hugging him from the back.
“Sounds like a plan.”, he turned his head a little to look at me. “So, are you watching carefully? So far I’ve added some milk, some salt, some sugar, some…”
I listened to him, while he kept explaining, and nodded from time to time, when I saw he’s watching me. My look drifted to the window again, the reflection of the sun, captured in the smooth, clean surface of the lake, was flickering in the water, creating mesmerizing pictures of a world, where only me, Vic and, of course, the pancakes existed, and a perspective for a better, brighter future.
…So that we can tell each other:
"Baby this is paradise…
And it's so god damn good."
Now we live like we should…
A smile stretched on my face.
END OF EPILOGUE
END OF KINGS AND BISHOPS (THE LIST).
The police officer, who did it, sergeant Rory Jefferson, became a hero, he got a medal… and, of course, a promotion.
Kellin’s mother, Mary Peters, ex-Bostwick, organized a small unofficial funeral, although the police refused to give her the bodies of the criminals. She ended up burying empty coffins. Surprisingly many people came to the celebration – Kellin’s ex-wife Jenny, Mike – Vic’s brother, some of their colleagues, old friends from their childhood, even Stan Taylor, no matter how strange his presence there was. People cried. Oh yes, there were a lot of tears and apologies spilled. Despite how horrible the media made Kellin and Victor sound, these people knew them, for real, they loved them and didn’t care what they had done. They were forever going to remember them… And maybe, just maybe they’d look up at the sky sometimes, and wonder… if they aren’t watching them from “above”…
Almost all of Kellin and Vic’s belongings were returned to their relatives, but, strangely, there were a few things missing – the police had found a guitar case, but no guitar, also, pencils and erasers, but no sheets or drawings. A quite big amount of money was gone as well. In the end they concluded that the things had burned in the explosion, after the two men tried to take them with them.
Brigitte, Victor’s ex-wife, got married to a rich, but quite sneaky businessman, who ended updivorcing her and taking her fashion house, as well as most of her money. For once, she found out how Vic felt when she did the same to him… She didn’t regret a thing, though, because some people never change.
...And that was it. Bonnie and Clyde had to die, that’s just how the story ended, it always ends this way. A beautiful, heroic death of two people, tangled in a complicated, sweet, but tragic love relationship. However, they were still the bad guys. Happy endings don’t include the villains staying alive and being happy, because that’s simply not how the story works.
Give people a dramatic death and they’d be glad, because they’d know it’s right.
Maybe it really was the end of the story, the grand finale… But truth is, there is a liiiittle bit more than that.
Five months later, somewhere in Mexico, Harry was trying to cook breakfast. And failing.
He furrowed eyebrows at the cookbook, trying to figure out what went wrong this time. It had to be the milk. It must be the milk.
“Hey, good mornin’. What are you doing?”
He looked up to see his boyfriend, Gerard Bishop, standing at the door and watching him with a curious look. He looked so funny in his baggy T-shirt he usually slept in, way too big for him, and in that strange light pink color the purple becomes after too much washing. He yawned and ran his hand through his long wavy hair, now pretty messy, because he had just gotten up.
“You weren’t supposed to get up so early, this had to be a surprise!”, Harry protested, frowning.
“Well, I’ll pretend to be surprised then, once you’re done.”, Gerard shrugged. “Okay? Okay. Let’s try again.” He coughed. “Hey! What are you doing?”
Harry chuckled.
“Cooking breakfast for you, so get your ass here and help, because I think those pancakes aren’t supposed to look this way.”
“Aw, pretending to be a cook, aren’t we.”, his boyfriend teased him. “Lemme take a look.”
He walked to him, sleepily stumbling along the way, and looked over Harry’s shoulder at the “pancakes”.
“Dear lord, Kellin, what have you done to the poor things.”, he shook head.
…Oh, yeah. Did I forget to mention that Harry used to be Kellin awhile ago, and Kellin is me? No? Oops, sorry, that’s just be being bad at storytelling.
“Is it too bad? Do you think they’re eatable?”, I bit my lower lip, worried that I messed up.
“Let’s say…”, Vic started slowly, carefully picking his words, “…that probably if you eat them you wouldn’t die from food poisoning or something… Yeah, I guess you could say that you could eat them…”
“Oh, so they aren’t that b-”, I started enthusiastically.
“…If you’re on a deserted island, you have no other food left, and the only alternative is eating your own feet.”, he finished, interrupting me.
“Hey, that was rude!”, I lightly punched him in the shoulder.
He laughed softly.
“I was just kidding, babe, the pancakes look just fine. Maybe if we add some jam or something they’d be the most delicious thing I’ve ever tasted.”
“Woah, woah, don’t go too far with the compliments, Vic, they’re starting to sound unrealistic!”, I giggled.
“No, I’m just telling the truth! Those are the best pancakes I’ve ever seen!”, and to prove his point he stuffed one in his mouth.
I chuckled at his silliness.
“Do you seriously like them?”
Victor nodded. “They’re the best.”, he wrapped an arm around my waist. “You’re the best.”
“Impossible. We can’t be both the best, the pancakes and I, you must chose one. Me, or them, Fuentes?”, I grinned.
He pretended to hesitate for awhile.
“…Pancakes.”, he said at last, grabbed the plate, where I had put them, and ran away with it.
“Hey! Hey, get back here, that wasn’t fair!”, I yelled after him. “I hadn’t even tried them!”
I let out a deep sigh and rushed after him.
I got him in the corridor and after a short struggle, I took the plate from him before he trips somewhere and drops my masterpiece on the floor.
“You jerk.”, I shook head and ruffled his hair. “Do you want me to make more?”
“No!”, his eyes widened in horror. “…Um, I mean, no, thanks, Kellin, you don’t need to. Umm… those are enough.”
I narrowed eyes at him suspiciously. “You don’t like them at all, do you.”
“Honestly? Yeah, they could be better… I’m not saying that they’re bad, though, not at all.”, Vic prevaricated with a small half-smile.
“Liar.”, I poked him. “You don’t have to eat them if you don’t want to, you know. I just suck at cooking.”
“I can help you improve!”, he grinned enthusiastically. “And about the pancakes, I do need to eat them, because you made them for me, and I know you put a lot of effort in trying to make me happy.”
“Yeah, true, but I failed.”, I shrugged.
“Nope, you didn’t. You failed at actually preparing a breakfast worth eating. But you never fail to make me happy, Kells, ever.”, he gently touched my cheek, smiling.
“Mm, I’m glad.”, I winked.
“Now.”, Victor left a small kiss on my forehead (he had to stand on his toes to reach it) “Let’s teach you how to make proper pancakes, shall we?”
“Sounds great.”
“Awesome.”, he took my hand and started leading me towards the kitchen.
“My mom used to make great pancakes.”, I shared, smiling a little.
“She probably still does.”, he shrugged and went silent for a moment, thinking, perhaps hesitating if he should add something. “…Do you miss her?”
“You mean… since we “died”?”, I looked at him. “I don’t know… maybe. I’m not sure, I mean, I’ve learned how to live without her long ago, so it doesn’t make much difference. It’s more that I regret that I didn’t get to know her better. And I feel bad for making her think I’m dead.”
“I see…”, Vic nodded understandingly, while opening the fridge in search for the products he needed.
His brother knew we’re okay, he pretty much arranged our departure and our fake identities. Since then the Fuentes brothers got close again, even though nobody knew they’re related – everyone thought they’re just really good friends or something. However, I often find Vic on the phone with Mike in the evenings, they talk almost every day, and meet at least once a month. I’m happy they managed to fix their relations, and I like Mike a lot, he’s a great guy, but I can’t help but feel a bit jealous for what they have. I can’t afford to contact any of my relatives, because I’m not that close with them and I can’t be sure if it would be safe. The only family I have now is Vic.
“Do you miss it?”, I suddenly said, almost surprising myself too.
“Huh?”, Victor looked up. “Miss what?”
“You know… all the fun we had, being on the run, breaking the rules, giving bad people what they deserve, even spending nights in shitty motels…”
“Oh…”, he put the bottle of milk he was holding down on the table and knitted eyebrows, thinking. “Yeah, I suppose I miss it, a bit. But on the other hand, back then we didn’t have a few things we do now.”
“Yeah? What are those things?”
“Well… First, safety. We were constantly cautious, afraid that we might get caught, forever jumpy and paranoid. Now we can calmly walk around, without worrying about covering our faces, we can go to the supermarket without being scared that someone might recognize us. And second, now we have a home.”
“You’re right, yeah…”, I nodded, looking out of the window.
A home… Yes, that was a big change, especially for me, someone, who has never really had one. Our house is just by the lake, so I wake up to this wonderful view every day, I’d go on the porch with my cup of coffee, and think: “Yup. That’s it, that’s my home. I deserve this.” Not just a place, where I live, but a shelter, like that old attic back there in Oregon, somewhere, where I knew I could spend the rest of my life, and I’d be glad to do so. Vic was right. We are safe here, we are happy, and that’s all we need.
“Besides,” he continued, “it’s not like we’re dying from boredom. We still have a lot of fun things to do here.”, he winked.
I raised an eyebrow with a small grin, watching him start mixing something in a big bowl.
“Are you hinting at something, Fuentes?”
“Actually, I wasn’t, but now, when you put it this way…”, he grinned back, “…What are you suggesting?”
“Let’s make the pancakes first, and then I’ll show you…”, I giggled meaningfully, hugging him from the back.
“Sounds like a plan.”, he turned his head a little to look at me. “So, are you watching carefully? So far I’ve added some milk, some salt, some sugar, some…”
I listened to him, while he kept explaining, and nodded from time to time, when I saw he’s watching me. My look drifted to the window again, the reflection of the sun, captured in the smooth, clean surface of the lake, was flickering in the water, creating mesmerizing pictures of a world, where only me, Vic and, of course, the pancakes existed, and a perspective for a better, brighter future.
…So that we can tell each other:
"Baby this is paradise…
And it's so god damn good."
Now we live like we should…
A smile stretched on my face.
END OF EPILOGUE
END OF KINGS AND BISHOPS (THE LIST).
Notes
So that's it. Bonnie and Clyde had to die, making room for Harry King and Gerard Bishop. The story had to end.The bit with the lake is inspired by a Real Funny Guys video, here it is: [link] XD
I want to thank you all for reading, commenting and subscribing, it really means a lot! <3 Thank you so much! Also, I have a few ideas for a sequel. What do you think, should I write it? Would you be interesting in reading it? Please let me know if you are ;P
For now I'll concentrate on my other two stories - One Eye Open Wide ([link]) and I'd Rather See You Dead ([link]) Check them out if you want ;)
Thanks again.
XOXO
OMG I know it was written a long time ago, but this is the best fanfic i've ever read<3
10/8/14