Finn was gentle as he walked Luna down to the cells. The others followed – cautious, confused, convicted – as he locked Luna's gate and stared at her. She felt like he was waiting for her to say something, but she had no words to speak.

Some agents had found Stefan in Central Command. He said that had they been any later, Adams might have had the chance to prove whatever it was he wanted to prove, but Aimee tried not to think of that. Adams was so determined, like he would do anything to get his hands on the microchips, but all that, all Stefan's father had worked for, seemed futile when nearly the entirety of his agents were caged behind bars. Still, Stefan could not shake the uncertainty writhing his bones, because something was off. AIM and GINM were two flames in the same fire, and something told Stefan that their embers still burned.

"Are you okay?" Aimee asked him, when everything seemed done to her. Stefan nodded easily and she chose not to pressure him about it, albeit she was unconvinced.

Everyone around them seemed to glide out of the room like a cortege, everyone but Celeste and Finn.

"Th-They aren't working like they should," Luna told him, shaking from more than his intense stare.

Finn asked Luna what she meant by that, while the others looked around them. Fear sculpted the features of each new prisoner as they realised that their titbits of immortality seemed to be taking a sabbatical.

"What's going on?" Stefan asked, speaking in most part to himself.

No one seemed able to conjure up a rational answer, but Aimee, she stalked to the end of the corridor as if she could feel the answer. Stefan followed until he realised where she was going: to Sylvain.

"Aimee, what are you doing?"

The sound of Stefan's voice shook her so slightly, yet it jerked a tear from her eye. She knew something he didn't. She crouched down to touch Sylvain's hand as he sat on the floor of his cell, silent and cold. The morbid, icy sensation pinched her and she pulled back, knocking his palm open. Stefan had finally approached and crouched beside Aimee while she stared at that porcelain hand.

"Do you see that?" she asked him, but he was only looking at her, compelled and heartbroken by the sight of her tears.

She wiped her eyes when she felt his stare, and then reached for the meagre piece of paper enfolded in his hand. Stefan faced her, inching closer as she read the writing.

"What does it say?" queried Celeste, pulling the words from Stefan's mouth and startling him with her unexpected presence.

"She wanted to fix her mistakes. She wanted time," Aimee read. "It's about Abba."

No one said anything for a while, just processed. Aimee knew that now – she knew that Abba wanted time and that she felt guilty and that she loved her – she did not need a reminder. She was ready to tear that page apart, some form of revenge for the round of tears it was bringing to her eyes, but Stefan stopped her.

"There's writing on the back, too."

Aimee frowned, befuddled as she turned the note over and started reading: "Shut it down."

Her eyes dashed between Stefan's and Celeste's, praying inconsequentially for one of them to know what that meant. When they looked back at Sylvain, they all knew, all came to one sole conclusion as the words settled in, because right there in the crease of his palm was something abnormal.

A port.

Immediately, Stefan switched on his communicator and paged Valerie. "Val, do you still have that flash drive?"

"From AIM? Yeah, I do. Still trying to decode it though," she replied.

"Bring it down to the cells."

"Now?"

"Now."

There was a sigh and a momentary pause before Valerie turned off her communicator and made her way down. When she got there, she saw Finn, Celeste, Gavin, Dominick, Stefan and Aimee, all gathered afore the bars that kept Sylvain.

"What did I miss this time?" she sighed again, waiting for some customary bad news as she joined them.

Aimee glanced up at her. "We can shut down AIM," she said, eyeing the flash drive dangling from her neck.

Valerie ogled her friends in confusion, but they all seemed to be in agreement, so she pulled off her necklace and handed it over.

It happened so slowly and yet all at once. In an expectant breath, a flooding flash of blue hues and Sylvain's gleaming eyes, it was done.

Stefan's voice was heard through every groove and furrow of GINM, through every ear. He looked at Aimee when she looked at him.

"AIM is finished," he let those words seep; triumphant roars flooded the building while whispers conflicted in jail cells. "The microchips have been deactivated. Those of you who have them, well, they'll be removed, and you'll face a trial before we decide whether to let you re-join GINM."

It was then that Finn smiled at Luna, comforted her as she cried, though they were tears of incomparable relief. Celeste found herself smiling, too.

"I'm your leader now," breathed Stefan. "I promise to bring this organisation to and beyond its former glory, if you give me the chance. But for now, I'm going home."

Stefan's words released from his lips exhaustedly, but Aimee smiled so widely at him, and then she had him in an embrace.

"We should definitely get takeout," she sighed into his shirt.

A second of silence passed, and then it folded into laughter and agreement to the thought.

A sudden buzz interrupted them, one from Aimee's cellphone. She remembered taking it off flight mode earlier, on their return from seeing Benjamin, but she had yet to check her messages. This however was not a message, this was a phone call, and it was from Emma.

"Emma?" she croaked out.

A long breath was drawn on the other line and Aimee was just about to worry, and then she heard her voice.

"Aimee Griffiths," she said stalwartly. "You are in serious trouble!"

Aimee sighed in relief, despite her pseudo threatening words, because in that moment, it all sunk in. It was all over, finally, and they had won. Aimee, Stefan – everyone – they had protected the people they loved, that she loved. Her fingers trembled in spite of her and tears had invited themselves into her eyes.

"What did I do this time?" she queried in a sniffling laugh.

"She's so coy," this she said to someone else, someone in the room with her. "Aimee, I know everything."

It took a moment for Aimee to register what Emma was saying, as if she had forgotten that she hadn't told her any of this, that she hadn't known and now she did.

"What's wrong?" Stefan asked when he saw her eyes growing wide in her head, but she did not hear him.

"Thanks for not telling me, by the way," she said, although she didn't seem mad. "I left you about a hundred messages, but I figured you were out doing your spy thing. Fortunately, I had some company. They do actually care about me knowing what's going on."

"E-Emma," she stuttered, putting it all together in pieces. "What are you saying?"

"Your parents, dummy," Emma giggled. "And they want me to tell you that they think London is highly overrated anyway."

Aimee gasped, and then she laughed because she could not help it, "They've been here the whole time."

"Yup!" chirped Emma. "They have a lot of faith in you, you know. Like, I totally would have gone to England," she joked, "thanks for inviting me."

"Em, I would've kept you safe here," she assured her. Emma pretended not to believe her. "Didn't you get my mail-order men in black?"

"Funny."

"Can I come see you?" Aimee asked, a little more seriously. "We can talk about it."

"I don't know, the Griffiths are shaking their heads," she said.

"Really, guys?"

There was shuffling as Molly grabbed hold of the phone and she cleared her throat. "Seeing as we're all alive and well, we think you deserve some R-and-R."

"It's been a while since you've had some," Clifford agreed and it brought Aimee to tears. "And the Lincolns kindly invited us to spend the night."

"And it's sushi night," Molly said like she was someone up to something mischievous.

"I love you guys," whispered Aimee. "All three of you."

"Yeah well, we love you, too," Molly replied, stoically biting back her emotion although it was to no avail.

"We're proud of you – you and Stefan." Aimee relayed the message in a murmur. "Yeah, but he'd better not let that go to his head," Clifford warned tenderly.

Molly leaned into the phone, "Sushi's ready. Talk to you later, honey."

"Okay," she smiled contently. "Goodnight, you guys."

There were more sounds after that, and some more, but Aimee almost didn't want to hang up. In the end, she was glad she hadn't.

"Aim?" whispered Emma, and then came a cringe. "Sorry."

"It's fine."

"So, I was thinking," she started. "Since the last few months have been so crazy, maybe we should have a girls' night."

"Yeah, I'd like that," she giggled.

"Awesome. We'll throw one of those parties – the ones we should have gone to in junior year – and then we can have a bestie one-on-one date, okay? Just don't tell Stefan."

Aimee agreed. "You sure you don't want me to come over?"

"Nah," she casually declined, "you and Stefan could use some you-just-saved-the-world-so-revel-in-the-awesomeness-and-go-be-crazy-together alone time."

"That sounds dangerous," Aimee said in jest, amazed by the mouthful, but it was nothing out of Emma's character.

"Yeah, yeah." She felt Emma roll her eyes. "Goodnight, Aimee."

"Eat for me!"

"Always."

The word somehow dove into Aimee's heart and completed her.