The four girls stood around the pure white gown. Not one of them said a word, rendered speechless by both the delicate lace and the gravity of this moment.

"It's beautiful," Dipper said at last.

It truly was.

They'd found the dress stashed away in Finch's new closet the day they'd arrived in Brooklyn. She was the second person to have seen it, after Finch had called her into his room with the dress held in front of him. She'd laughed, making some joke about what the occasion was. He'd rolled his eyes, explaining he'd found it in his closet. After a moment of pondering, she'd called for Hotshot, who'd told them the surprising origin of the dress.

"It was yer muddahs," said Hotshot softly, leaning against the wall. "Spot kept it he-ah. I guess yer faddah wanted ta sell in fa money, but she wouldn't have it. So she told Spot ta hide it."

Brigid and Finch had both stared at each other, bewildered, before their gazes went back down to the gown Finch was holding. This was Finch's mother's wedding dress?

Hotshot had left not long after, seeing that they had some things to talk about.

And they did. Such as what a waste it would be to not wear it to a certain upcoming wedding, and so here she was a year later, about to put it on. 

It almost felt too precious to put on. Brigid was still standing there, running her fingers over the fabric, when a sudden squeal from Dipper made her jump and whip around. Before she could open her mouth to demand what was going on, the door was opened, sending a gust of cold wind into her face. "Dipper!"

But Dipper was long gone, running out of the Manhattan lodge like a mad woman. Brigid hurried after her, freezing at the door not because of the cold, although there was that too, but because of the familiar girl she saw approaching them.

Evangeline.

Brigid couldn't do anything but stand there, watching in shock as Dipper threw herself at the girl, knocking them both down into the snow. They both laughed and then they were standing, grinning at each other after not having seen the other since the year before.

Brigid hadn't known she was coming.

She'd sent an invitation, of course, but Evangeline was only seventeen. It wasn't like she could come and go as she pleased. Plus, Brigid hadn't received anything back from the girl, which made it hard to know if she'd even read it.

Apparently, she had.

Dipper jogged over, still beaming. "We've been writin' letters ta each oth-ah. It was a surprise. Fa you."

"Well..." Brigid shook her head, baffled. "Colour me surprised, den."

Laughing, Dipper turned back to Evangeline. "Oh, I can't wait 'til you see Albert. He's gotten even more handsome."

Evangeline whistled low. "I'll be the first to admit — after you, of course — that that boy was already beau. I'm almost scared to see him now."

The boys were getting ready at the Brooklyn lodge. Dipper was a woman of tradition, and she'd be dead and buried before she let Finch see Brigid before the wedding, and vice versa. The Brooklyn boys were practically too happy to accommodate them all. She suspected threats were being made to scare Finch into being a good husband, but she had no such doubts.

Instinctively, stupidly, Brigid asked the first thing that came into her mind. "Is dere anyone else we should be expectin' at tha weddin'? Are ya seein' anyone?"

Evangeline's expression turned sad for a moment, and Brigid immediately regretted asking. "Afraid not. But it's really not that bad. I've been doing a lot of missionary work recently, and once I've spent long enough working in the religious order, I can become a nun or something of the like." She paused. "I... don't think I'll be meeting anyone at all in the near future."

"Right, of course," murmured Brigid. Of course Evangeline would still be grieving Elmer. She chided herself for asking. "I shouldn't've asked, I..."

"Don't feel bad," chirped Dipper, coming back to her side. "Evangeline and I have been writing lots 'a lett-ahs, but you haven't. You couldn't have known who she has 'n hasn't met."

"Yeah, what she said," said Evangeline, confirming that she wasn't bothered by the slip up. "So anyway, what's this I hear about a wedding?"

Once the dress was on, she lost more room to breathe than just from the dress. Amy and Katherine had joined the equation, along with a small mix of both Manhattan and Brooklyn boys who'd deigned to be with her instead of with those in Brooklyn. Davey and Les made it onto that list.

The two had long since left the newsie life, but after some time, they slowly began rekindling their friendship with the rest of the newsboys. It took Davey longer than Les, naturally, and yet both her and Katherine were the ones Davey had seemed to gravitate towards the most during those first few months back. She couldn't think of a reasonable answer for why, but she appreciated their new bond all the same.

Les, who she'd been told had been quite close with Leocadie before the Beaulieu family had left, was over bantering with her. She hadn't known until half an hour or so later, but the entire family had come for the wedding, Evangeline's mother included.

As well as most of The Lights.

"You look radiant," said Soot — who, she learned, went mostly by Nora nowadays — brushing some hair off her shoulder like a mother would. She'd become the closest thing to one since her own had passed.

"Do you ever!" added Medda, coming over and patting down her dress. "A real life angel."

Aside from Medda, of course.

"Thank you," said Brigid.

Amy, who'd helped to do up her hair and makeup along with Katherine, let out a small sigh in agreement. "Finch is one lucky man."

"And you are one lucky woman," said Katherine, waggling her eyebrows as she applied some more paint onto her face. "Not sure if you've noticed, but ever since you two've moved into Brooklyn, your beau has gotten quite the reputation among the ladies. Just as you've gotten quite the reputation among the boys."

Katherine, sweet Katherine, was doing the best she could without Jack. There were days when she called Brigid over just for her to be met with the sight of the girl crying herself hoarse. Brigid could do nothing but wrap her in a hug, whispering all she could to make her feel better.

Although there were still days like that, they were now far in between, which Brigid was glad for. There was nothing more utterly hopeless than watching your friend suffering and knowing there was nothing you could do about it, no matter how you tried.

"Well, let us hope dis weddin' sends out a clear message, den." Brigid rolled back her shoulders. "Finch Colon 'n Brigid Delancey are officially tyin' tha knot."

Dipper appeared then, her expression gentle. "And what a beautiful bride you make."

Sudden knocking drew their attention to the door. Trek stepped inside, holding the bouquet out towards her. "I hope tha bride in question is ready. I only got permission ta use tha trolley outside of work hours fa half tha day."

"Right." Brigid sighed and squared her shoulders. "Well, den. Let's go make dis Miss Delancey a Mrs. Colon, shall we?"

Trek walked her down the aisle.

The year had brought quite a number of changes, some expected and some not quite as much. This was especially true with the newly blooming relationship between her and Morris.

As kids, she'd always done her best to be there for him. Him and Oscar both. And then they left, along with her mother, which led her down a long path of self-destruction. Now, to be able to see some of what the future held, it was difficult to not let out an ironic chuckle. Morris had come back to her, slowly, looking to rekindle the familial love for each other they'd once had.

She should've known he thought he would be the one giving her away, not Trek.

She loved Morris. She loved him dearly, as a sister should a brother who's at least making the effort. Which was why it was so hard for her to break the news to him — that she'd already decided Trek would be the one for the task. Not only because she knew Trek that much better, but also because of the disdain Morris refused to let go of completely for her groom and the rest of the newsies. This was the thing that had separated them all along. Especially since said groom now had a responsibility for the ones from Brooklyn. 

She didn't blame Finch for feeling the same disdain towards Morris, which was another reason why Trek was the one walking her down the aisle, and not him. There came a time in life when you had to man-up and face the consequences of your own actions.

As she walked with Trek, she found she couldn't take her eyes off of the church, where her husband-to-be stood with eyes just as glued to her. He was breathtaking, dressed in the fanciest suit she'd ever seen him in, curly hair on full display and styled nicely, bringing out his light brown eyes and sharp cheekbones.

It had taken her some time to overcome the trauma that had followed her from this very church, the memory of both her father and Domino dying in the basement still chasing her in her dreams. But overcome it, she had. This church still bore the name of her love, Patrick, and to her that meant she was safe.

Safe with him.

Finally, she reached him. Trek turned and kissed her cheek, loosening his grip. Finch nodded at the man before gently taking her away, leading her to where the priest stood. She turned to Dipper, her maid of honour, and handed her the bouquet.

Their priest began with the readings, and some other things Brigid knew you'd scarcely care about if you weren't Catholic. Then, she and Finch were approached by the priest as he began the vows.

"Patrick and Brigid," he started, "have you come here to enter into marriage without coercion, freely and wholeheartedly?"

"I have," they said, staring most ardently into each other's eyes.

"Are you prepared, as you follow the path of marriage, to love and honour each other for as long as you both shall live?"

"I am."

"Are you prepared to accept children lovingly from God and to bring them up according to the law of Christ and his Church?"

"I am."

And then, the vows.

"I, Patrick," said Finch, "take you, Brigid, for my lawful wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and health, until death do us part."

She gazed up at him, awestruck that he was there, saying the words. This was real. This was happening.

He wanted to be with her... forever.

She only tuned back in to what was being said around her when Finch squeezed her hand gently.

"I, Brigid," she said, "take you, Patrick, for my lawful husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, in sickness and health, until death do us part."

It was clear he was trying to hide a trembling smile.

Next, the rings were presented. They were once again made from wood, which was the choice she and Finch had made. Before the wedding, they'd each carved the words I love you, always into each other's rings. Their priest prayed for blessing over their union, a sure sign that it was time to bow their heads. Then, the rings were given to each of them as they finished their vows.

"Brigid, receive this ring as a sign of my love and fidelity, in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit."

"Patrick, receive this ring as a sign of my love and fidelity, in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit."

Once the priest confirmed them married, they grinned and bent towards each other for their first kiss as husband and wife.

The Mass was held thereafter, which soon led to Finch and Brigid kneeling next to each other to receive communion. It was only Finch's third mass after having returned to the faith, having already been baptized. She remembered asking him if he would consider returning long ago, before he'd proposed and they were still in the mess of The Unknowns. It seemed so surreal to have him celebrating the Mass by her side now.

He was surreal.

He was hers.

The reception was everything she could've hoped for and more.

She laughed as Race pulled her into his side, looking well groomed as he pressed a swift kiss to her cheek, just as Dipper had done moments before, mocking the custom. Albert wasn't one for such affection, instead opting to wrap her into a quick hug before stepping aside.

"You two look nice," she complemented. "Race, where's yer date?"

"Look behind ya," she heard from behind her.

Brigid turned, rolling her eyes as Laces shoved a dessert square into her mouth. "I see you've found tha food."

"And I see you've found my boyfriend," said Laces, sliding past Brigid to grab Race's arm. He happily extended it. "I guess I have you ta thank fa makin' him look dis good. I don't think I've ev-ah seen him so dressed up."

"Or without his cap," Albert joked. "Who knew his hair was blond?"

Race huffed. "Least mine ain't red, Red. Everyone can tell what you've got under dat cap from miles away."

Of course, this led to a game of cat and mouse as Albert attempted to tackle Race for his comment. Brigid rolled her eyes. "Never gets old."

"Glad you think so," said Laces, frowning slightly at the sight.

Aside from Specs, Laces had been the hardest person to tell about Domino's death. She'd known they'd been close, perhaps even closer then she and Domino had ever been. She hadn't wanted to feel the wrath of the girl any more times than she already had. But instead of trying to kill her again, as she'd expected, Laces had hugged her tightly, crying into her shoulder.

Brigid had frozen, not knowing what to do.

Laces only thanked her for letting her know before drying her eyes and staggering off. Brigid had almost wanted to follow her to make sure she'd be okay, but she didn't know what she could possibly say to make any of it any better. Truth was, there was absolutely nothing she could say. So she'd just watched as she left.

Laces had contacted her again after that. Since that day, she'd learned exactly what Brock had meant to Laces, as well as Domino, and, eventually, what her feelings were towards Race. It was Brigid who finally encouraged it, finding an unlikely bond between the two, knowing that sometimes love was found in the most inconvenient of times and places.

They talked less about her relationship with her brother, but Brigid suspected they were doing well. Her and Jojo's dad had even re-entered the picture. Apparently, he and Jojo were out of the country with some of the other Lights, returning some of the stolen objects.

She was happy as could be for the reunited family.

A squeal suddenly grabbed her attention. She jumped and spun around, watching, unimpressed, as Amy and Kath fawned over their bride. Amy had been one of her bridesmaids, while Katherine had not. She'd planned for Katherine to have a spot in her wedding, but discovered just before the fact that Katherine had already planned to give the position away to Evangeline, who Brigid hadn't known was coming.

Apparently, Katherine had felt there would be too many bridesmaids with both Amy and Evangeline already, not to mention it would be suspicious to buy three dresses for two people, and so she herself decided to step aside for their sake. Brigid hadn't known whether to feel more confused or touched by the whole situation.

Before she could react, she was pulled into yet another hug.

"You're married!" yelled Amy.

Brigid ducked away. "Ise aware, Amy."

"The wedding was beautiful," Katherine said. "Really, it was. If Jack were here, he would've loved it."

"Yeah," she said softly. "I think he really would've wanted to have seen Finch gettin' married."

Finch, who'd been a few feet away with his own circle of people, looked towards her. "Not any more than he would've wanted ta see you."

"I doubt that."

"You shouldn't."

"You love each other, we get it," lamented Sniper. He'd never really warmed up to Brigid, and to be frank, she was beginning to have similar feelings towards him.

Rolling her eyes, Brigid turned her attention away. She looked at the rest of those who'd been talking with Finch before, which seemed to be at least half the wedding party. Albert and Race, as aforementioned — Albert had actually been Finch's best man, as Dipper had been Brigid's maid of honour — Specs, Romeo, Mush, Blink, Buttons, Davey and Les, although Les was busy talking with Leo, Hotshot, some others from Brooklyn, and Crutchie.

Crutchie.

She walked up to him, placing a hand on his arm to get his attention. He jumped slightly, relaxing once he saw it was her. "How's it feel, being Mrs. Colon?"

"Different," she admitted. "But it's a good different. I like it."

"Dat's good," he said, smiling at her.

She looked at him for a long moment, emotions swelling in her chest. How she loved and cherished this young man. How he'd helped her through so much. "Y'know, if it wasn't for you, I don't think we'd be he-ah right now."

"At yer weddin'?"

She nodded. "It was you who told me what it was like ta love. You showed me I couldn't hide myself if I wanted ta be cared for."

"Oh, well, Brigid..." He hesitated. Then, shaking his head, he neared her and wrapped his arms around her shoulders. "Dey gave us their worst, didn't dey?"

"Dey sure did," she murmured.

And in a way, they'd succeeded. Many lives had been lost, and others ruined. There were still nights when she would be awoken to the sound of a newsie crying, having to go comfort them about the body they'd seen at too young an age — Spot's body. There were nights when she herself had horrid nightmares, where only Finch could calm her down. And there were days when she sold or striked, and was pulled aside by people who'd heard her name on the streets and wanted to discuss at length all the horrible events of her life. Or times where they hurled stones at her and spat names as she passed by, screaming that she was no better than her brothers — or even, occasionally, her father.

The hardships of those years still followed her.

Once she and Crutchie separated, Finch finally came towards her. "You'd think, for bein' my wife now, I would've been able ta spend more time wit you."

"We did invite a lotta people," she pointed out.

He grinned. "Worth it."

"So how about it, Mr. Colon?" She intertwined their fingers. "Should we dance?"

His hand circled her waist. "As you wish, my love."

Even though there was no music, not yet, anyway, she smiled and followed his lead.

You're mine, Finch, and I'm yours.

"And what a striking pair we make," she murmured quietly.

(3303 words)

I'm stuffed up with cold and bawling my eyes out. I cannot believe that this is it.

This is the end.

I've been working on this since not last December, but the one before that — December 8th, 2020. I remember sneaking my phone everywhere, just so I could write a few more words. I remember getting distracted in class, thinking of all the trouble these characters would get into next. And I remember making all these remarkable memories and friendships with you guys.

100 chapters, 5 books, almost two years, and it's finally ended.

Also, Finch and Lane got married on the 24th of November, 1900, if you were wondering.

And also, I'm dedicating this chapter to everyone who's ever even read a snippet of this series, but especially to those who have seen it all the way through, like Nycnewsgirl, MackJ134, and choccymilk34 (and to those who will eventually in the future). I also dedicate it to AbbyBrenton05 , mah bestie. Thank you for being my first true friend. I cherish you, all of you, and I hope (and pray) for nothing but good things in your lives. Also, Abby, you better not be reading this unless you've read everything else first.

Goodbye, my loves.

~ nutcracker645