"We're finally here. Everything's gonna be so much better—especially after the nightmare."
"Nightmares, Dad"
"And the really great thing is, I've already talked to the guys and no one knows a thing about what happened, so we can all really have a fresh start out here in Maine."
"I'm still going to miss Johnathan."
"He's in love, and he's happy. That's what's important; just as we are. Don't forget he did say that he is still thinking about it."
Bob and his fiancé held their hands together for a moment. Her son—Will—in an attempt to brighten his thoughts, imagined the best-looking rings he could think of on their fingers. He then looked over at their new house.
("Maybe Dad's right; I could love it here.")
A few days pass as the new family settled in. Will decided to go to the local playground to see if he could make some new friends. Joyce insisted on tagging along, as his father called it, while he stayed home to finalize the school accommodation paper works and call up the local RadioShack for employment. It was the first time they'd seen their son smile in ages.
When the two got home, mother noticed one of the teenagers had followed them home, crouching, and staring at them. He looked slightly above driving age, but his face with a Freddy Kreuger-styled hat, but with a wider rim.
"I've found you."
"What do you want with my boy?"
"Nothing; I'm just following where the dust takes me, and it brought me to you lovely people. That is my job, right?"
"We didn't hire anyone."
"I freely wander the world looking for cracks, then I felt each one of your connections."
"Are you going to keep doing that? We came here to avoid all of this—start a new life."
"No," he said putting the tip of his thumb against his lips, "But if it ever happens again, just know that I'll be watching you—right there to close your problems; that's what I was put here for, right?"
"You just said you wouldn't stalk my boy!"
"It's like I won't even be there."
"She will come save me again, wouldn't she?"
The adolescent flinched; "There are others?" Tears streamed down his unseen face; "I've failed this whole world. How many times? No, don't answer that; it would be too much." He quietly showed them his arm. Embedded on his shoulder was the number "0-1," with an additional "0" before the other one scribbled in with marker. He never stopped crying.
"I like Bond; I look up to him. Now please, go on, turn around; live your merry lives."
They turned their backs and looked at him once more. Just like that, he was gone. They hesitated on whether to tell Bob about the child, but ultimately said over the dinner table that an agent came and brought insurance.
"That's great!"
