Disclaimer: Characters belong to Aaron Spelling, E. Duke Vincent, Gary Tomlin, NBC, et al and are used here strictly for non-profit entertainment purposes.
Rating: PG 14
Genre: Drama/Romance
Spoilers: The whole series.
Summary: In December 2007, Gregory sets out to reclaim all that he lost.

Chapter 1: "Where the Love Light Gleams"

The cardboard fell onto the counter with a soft thud. "Your effects."

Gregory Richards nodded, brushing a thick layer of dust off the top. Seven years worth, he thought to himself as the tiny particles hung mystified in the harsh light. The top of the carton gave easily, revealing the items that languished in forgotten purgatory.

His "Tobias" costume. That ridiculous white lab coat and the cheerful red bowtie. How utterly unlike him. He supposed now that was part of the attraction when picking an identity. The cheerful and good-natured uncle of his childhood was the antithesis of the person he had grown into.

But in the end, not even the Tobias disguise could save him.

As he moved the costume aside, his hand brushed against a plastic bag. He pulled it free, instantly recognizing the items encased in it. A solid gold band that he couldn't help but keep in the pocket of "Tobias's" trousers. Never tarnished, ever strong. He fingered it gently before sliding it onto the fourth finger of his left hand.

With the ring familiarly weighing down his finger, he dove back into the thick plastic. The heavy watch rested in his palm, the white gold band offsetting the ivory face. He turned it over, angling it back so the etched writing caught the light.

All my love always,
Your Liv

He recalled her quiet excitement when she handed him the package, nestling against him as he opened it and recited the inscription. It was Christmas 1979. When things were wonderful between them and each new day was a blessing to be shared together. Before things spun out of control and they both became people he could barely recognize.

He slipped the watch onto his wrist and fastened the clasp. How she failed to recognize the sentimental gift on "Tobias" he would never know. Or perhaps she hadn't cared. Yet as much as he repeated the latter reasoning to himself, he knew it simply wasn't true.

Regardless, these were his worldly items. Those that had been confiscated by the Department of Corrections upon his incarceration. And those that had been summarily returned to him at his release.

It was an early release, the judge had been quick to caution him. Not one that suggested any measure of innocence, but instead reflected on the prisoner's model behavior. Model behavior, he thought to himself as he closed the carton. In an overcrowded prison, anyone who kept quiet and to himself was a recipe for success.

He held the carton close to his chest as he followed the guard out of the dark prison. The warm sunshine was a lost luxury on his flesh as the wind whipped his hair. The chain link fence swung open and he stepped into freedom.

It had crossed his mind over the last seven years what this moment would be like. He hadn't imagined a brass band welcoming him back into the world, but he didn't imagine this.

Nothing.

The parking lot of the prison was a desolate place. A stale wind howled around him, eagerly accepting the harsh clang of the gate closing behind him. He was effectively stuck in no man's land. Not wanted anywhere.

Welcome home.

He couldn't sit still.

After seven years of being told when to eat, sleep and blink, he was eager for the chance to excise his will. He left his room at The Resort with no destination in mind but the opportunity to reclaim his freedom.

He wandered down to the beach, taking in the ocean for a long moment. The roaring surf crashed into the shore, silver spray flying into the air. A salty freshness perfumed the air and he inhaled deeply. It was the scent of promise.

As the sun began to dip behind the horizon, he wandered through the town. The more years that passed, the more it all somehow managed to stay the same. The same traffic clogged Main Street. The same annoying teenagers huddled in clusters around the entrance of the Java Web. Grenadine's was where it always was and he couldn't help but think back.

"You know, sometimes I say things and believe it or not, Olivia, I feel sorry for it afterwards."

"I know. Why do you think I put up with it?"

They had both put up with a lot from each other, he thought, barely paying attention to his surroundings. Put up with a lot, shared a lot, destroyed a lot. The list of their joint wrongs and successes could go on forever.

It was funny. After seven years away from her, it was the good he found himself recalling rather than the bad. It was her smile that sustained him. It was the sound of his children's laughter that sent a wave of calm through him. The old pain and anger that had fueled his path to prison had subsided and was replaced by the sweet remembrance of yesterday.

Gregory glanced up as a pulse of familiarity washed over him. The lettering of the street sign caught the fading sunlight: Ocean Avenue. He shoved his hands in his pockets, looking down the palm-lined street. It was quiet, the way he had always known it to be.

Festive decorations covered the homes he had passed daily for years with nary a glance. Colorful lights glowed from behind the windows and thick wreaths hung on the doors. This walk down the street was sending him down memory lane. Christmas had always been her holiday. It was because of her enthusiasm for the spirit of the season that he could appreciate the carols, the warm glow of lights wrapped around the tree and the haven of togetherness she strove to create.

Caitlin and Sean had been enchanted by the wonder of it all as children. Laying beneath the tree and giggling as they stared up through the lit branches. The way their small feet thundered down the staircase Christmas morning. How they nestled sleepily against him as he read them tales of children eagerly awaiting Santa's visit.

The feeling of familiarity that had sent him down this path began to recede as the house numbers decreased. He passed Three Ocean Avenue and gazed steadily at its neighbor. Construction fencing circled the property, a gaping hole in the coastline.

A large sign advertised the land as the future location of the Ocean Towers, a monstrous building of luxury condominiums, judging by the artist's rendering. He couldn't help but chuckle at the irony. One Ocean Avenue was as destroyed as their family.

He allowed himself one more look, replacing the construction equipment with the home he remembered. Envisioning it so clearly in his mind seemed a cruel reminder of the way things were now.

A woman walking past with her dog stopped to follow Gregory's gaze. "It's such a shame," she sighed as her collie strained against the leash. "This used to be a quiet neighborhood. Now it feels like a war zone."

He nodded his understanding. "Do you know what happened to the people that used to own the property?" He had never managed to sell the house after they moved out. No one wanted the death of a child haunting their home. As if that sort of misfortune could transfer to the new owners. But he couldn't believe that she and the children would have it bulldozed. All of their memories, good and bad, were tied up in that house.

She shook her head. "No, we only moved in eighteen months ago." She looked pityingly at the construction site and muttered, "Damn AJ Deschanel."

"Deschanel?"

The dog walker grimaced. "He's got some brilliant plan to redesign the town. Bring it into the twenty-first century." She sighed and began to walk away. "If you ask me, it was just fine the way it was."

Gregory looked back up at the bulldozed property, noting the contractor's sign. Deschanel Redevelopment Project. "Everything was fine," he agreed to himself before he turned away to begin the solitary walk back to the hotel.