This is a "Pilot" beginning to an idea rolling around in my head. If a lot of reviews are received, I will post the full chapter 1 and continue with this story.

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

1.

December 31, 1981

"Steven, wait!" She shrieked and my body froze. Every time. "Please…don't go." I should turn. I should look at her, scoop her up off the dirty, hardwood floor she was lying on, and take her home. Take her back to Point Place.

I don't turn around. I can't. I can't stand the sight of her right now. She's dirty and as thin as an Ethiopian orphan.

It's my fault. I shouldn't have left her.

I shouldn't have let her be with Fez. One fucking year away and her life went to shit. It's my fault.

"Steven…please, I'm sorry. I wanted to tell you."

I straightened. "But you didn't." I took a step towards the door.

"No!" Suddenly that tiny body, far smaller than the last time I'd held her against me, was blocking my only way of the small, run-down apartment. "No, I am not letting you leave again." She choked on the last word, and those tears of hers were startin' to kill me. "You-you already left once, Steven."

She waited, watching my next move. I taught her that. "Steven, please." She looked down and gently took my fingertips. I sucked in a breath and froze. Her brown eyes met mine. "Steven, I love you. I…" She tried to sniff back her tears. "I want to be with you again."

I could have yanked my hand away and told her, with a scowl of disgust that it was over for good. I could have pushed her aside and marched on towards the life I left behind.

But in that moment, that one split second moment, every hateful, spiteful, lonely, and depressed feeling I'd had towards or because of Jackie, left my body and my mouth was on hers…

Kinda like how it used to be.…

January 1, 1980

The things I'd owned throughout my life were never nice or well kept. More often than not, my shit was dirty. Over the years, my tiny room in the Forman's basement had filled with more trash than I had started with.

I was packing. Mrs. Forman was still upstairs drinking. She was taking my decision to leave roughly. I don't really blame her.

Point Place will always be my childhood playground, my guinea pig for my destructive habits and behavior. But I was a man now…and I couldn't live under Red's roof forever. I decided to let Leo and Angie run the record store while I tried to make my way to the Big Apple.

New York just seemed cool to me, man. When I met Chrissy, that's all she'd talk about. New York was bigger. New York was better. The bars in New York stayed open till 4 AM. I was sold.

And plus, the woman I'd just married was, in documented truth, not really my wife.

"So…you're really leaving."

I toss a jacket onto my bed and shove my hands in my pockets. I draw in a breath and, behind sunglasses, I stare at the only woman I've ever loved. "Yeah, I'm goin'."

Jackie nodded. "I don't suppose there's anything I can say to stop you?"

She knows me well. "Nope."

Her face is strained. She's forcing herself to keep a straight face. But she doesn't say anything. She nods again and turns to leave.

I let out my breath and rub the back of my neck. "Bye…Jackie."

I left the next morning for New York.