I had an idea that was just kicking around. If they ever wished to restart Haven, here's my idea on how they might pull it off.

Haven-Resurrection

It's been nearly a year now since the Troubles ended, Audrey went away and Duke died. Haven has returned to some semblance of normalcy. But a freak Nor'easter bearing down on the town is going to change all of that.

Gathering Stormclouds

"And in weather news, it looks like that Nor'Easter's going to come barreling right down on central Maine, so all you folks in Bangor, Derry, Castle Rock, Haven and the surrounding area, make sure you're stocked up on emergency provisions, and don't forget those batteries for the radio, so you can keep it tuned right here for the latest forecast," Tom Miller the morning DJ on WSKY was telling his listeners.

Nathan switched off the radio and glanced out at the gathering storm clouds off to his right. The sea was already angry, gray and foamy, with waves that lashed against the storm wall. If the weatherman was to be believed, it was going to be a hell of a storm.

Haven's just now putting herself back together and now this, Nathan thought as he drove through town, seeing people dragging out storm shutters and taking down swinging signs that could be torn loose in the high winds that would soon be sweeping through the town.

A droplet of water hit his windshield, quickly followed by a light splattering, and he turned on the wipers. It wasn't a hard rain; that would come later, he knew, as he turned into the school parking lot, where he could see Paige with the other teachers watching as students boarded the buses and ran to parents' cars, the school being closed early on account of the storm.

She spotted the Bronco and waved to him, and ran toward the vehicle.

"Hi," she smiled, climbing in. "Everyone's talking about the storm," she told him. "I've never seen a Nor'Easter. Is it like a hurricane?"

"Winds can get pretty intense," Nathan agreed. "But it's not quite the same thing."

"Gloria phoned, said Vicky picked up James when she went to get Aaron, so he's at Gloria's house," Paige informed him. Nathan nodded, and put the Bronco in drive.

The rain had started to gain steam, and the clouds overhead were so dark it seemed as though it were almost sunset, even though it was only two in the afternoon. They were in for a long night if this was the way it was going to be.

He remembered the last Nor'Easter that had struck Haven-he'd argued with Duke about him taking the Rouge out to open seas in a storm. But Duke had stubbornly insisted that he stood a better chance out on the water and skirting the storm than he did moored in the harbor being bashed against the docks.

Nathan hadn't had time to argue with him about it, and had left him to his own devices while he and the Chief had made sure the town was secured.

After the storm, Duke hadn't reappeared in the harbor for two days. Nathan had been on the verge of telling the Coast Guard to start a search when The Cape Rouge had finally come limping into port. It'd taken Duke weeks in repairs, he remembered. But the Rouge had survived-just as he'd said she would.

He glanced over at Paige, who smiled at him, and he suddenly remembered something-Audrey had turned up just a few days after that storm. The thought that maybe the storm had been some sort of portend of her return from the Barn flitted across his mind. As though it was an omen of things to come, he pondered. But he soon put it out of his mind. It had to just be coincidence. Audrey was gone; and Paige was here to stay. And the Troubles were gone for good.

They arrived at Gloria and Lincoln's house, and Nathan could see Linc trying to get the storm shutters fastened down, and he quickly jumped out and ran to help while Paige dashed into the house. The wind was beginning to pick up; and they all knew that the storm was just about to break directly over Haven.

"Louis got held up in town, couldn't make it over!" Lincoln was hollering over the wind.

"Where's Gloria?" Nathan shouted. He'd noticed her car was absent from the driveway.

"She got called to the office, some sort of emergency-something about a body washing ashore," Lincoln told him as they went inside.

"Strange they didn't call me about it," Nathan commented.

"Not the first time a storm's washed up a body on shore," Lincoln replied, pouring them coffee. "If it's important enough, they'll let you know. Probably just some poor soul who fell overboard or something."


Gloria stood, looking at the somewhat battered-looking sail-canvas casket with tears in her eyes. Dwight Hendrickson stood alongside her, both of them looking at it in silence for a few moments, and then Dwight spoke.

"I can't believe the storm pushed him that far in," he muttered. "I thought Aidan Driscoll had weighted the casket."

"He did. But it looks like it's lost its ballast," Gloria noted, seeing the long rip in the bottom where the three hundred pounds worth of cannonball ballast had been. "And with the storm and the currents-" she sighed, and gave a small sad smile. "Or maybe he just wanted to be home in Haven once more," she finished softly, her fingers tracing over the words embroidered into the cloth of the casket: DUKE CROCKER, BELOVED FATHER AND FRIEND, 1977-2015.

She shook her head, and blinked hard a few times. "Casket itself seems to be a little worse for wear," she commented. "It'll have to be repaired before we put him back."

"Gloria-you know that Duke won't be-very pretty," Dwight said slowly. "If there's anything left of him at all. It's been almost a year now."

"Dwight, I've seen waterlogged corpses before," Gloria told him.

"They probably weren't friends of yours either," Dwight pointed out.

"True enough. But I'd rather it be me than someone who didn't care about him," Gloria answered, and Dwight nodded, seeing he wasn't going to win this argument.

"Want me to stay and help?" he asked, and Gloria shook her head.

"No. I need to get home, and so do you. He'll keep until tomorrow," she said. "But you can help me get him out and into refrigeration."

Dwight nodded reluctantly, and set to undoing the locks that held the zipper closed, mentally cringing at the thought of the grisly sight of Duke's putrefying corpse awaiting them inside.

He unfastened the last lock, and undoing the zipper, closed his eyes, bracing for the stench-and was surprised to find none. He cautiously opened one eye and then another, both he and Gloria gazing down at the interior black rubbery body bag inside the casket. He expected a jumble of bones outlined beneath, but it looked as though Duke were still pretty solid.

Stan appeared in the doorway.

"Ah, just in time," Gloria called. "Stan, if you'd be kind enough to give Dwight a hand."

"Um...sure," Stan said, and got at one end of the casket, and Dwight the other.

"Ready? On three-one, two, three," Dwight grunted, and they lifted the body bag out of the casket and lay it on the morgue drawer tray.

Dwight was surprised-he'd fully expected Duke's body bag to sag like a water balloon when they'd lifted it out of the casket, but not only had the body held together-it was heavy, as though-as though it were still fully fleshed, he thought.

The same thought seemed to be going through Gloria's mind as she eyed the body bag, and she glanced at Dwight.

"Come too far to chicken out now," she said, reaching for the zipper.

Stan swallowed nervously and stepped back involuntarily, and Dwight had half a mind to do the same as Gloria undid the zipper and carefully folded back the flap from Duke's face.

"What the hell?" Dwight whispered.

Stan just stared.

Gloria fainted.