Maggie set down the bag of groceries on the counter with a breathless huff. "Geez these things are so heavy. You wouldn't think all this would be so tough," she spoke aloud, taking in the kitchen around her. It was a mess. Her unopened mail was still sitting underneath all her paperwork from the office. Fan mail, she supposed.

She'd been getting a lot of money lately, from her whole book-writing business. She wasn't planning on being a writer. She only wrote this one thing because it was something she cared about. But the interviews and publicity and all the people were something she loved. She felt that she'd chipped the ice in the world, so to speak. Like she'd made a difference. Now that she'd gotten this glimpse, she really, really despised her job.

But she needed to keep a job. And writing... she couldn't deal with the deadlines. She'd had no inspiration since then. Still, she wished she could find something she could do and be passionate about. And she hadn't found it. So until then, it was office work. She shifted through the mail and smiled when she saw Karen and Mike's wedding invitation. She had seen them once or twice since they'd had gotten out of the mental institute, but apparently, Andy had never seen his mother since. She knew he was in a military academy, but she couldn't remember the name...

Her front door opened with a loud bang. She turned, startled, to meet the large imploring eyes of Johnathan Elbis. "Maggie... Maggie can we keep her?" he was asking. He was holding a small girl who was shaking and crying. She was covered in dirt and tears, and the man had wrapped her thin body with a large wool blanket. "Johnny, where did you find her?" Maggie asked. "She was... she'd been in an old shack down the road from the gas station," he said. "If I hadn't found her when I did, she would've been..." he paused, holding her closer."...taken." She didn't need to ask what that meant. "Well..." she began. It shouldn't be a problem, really. She could take care of the little girl. "I suppose I could..."

"Oh good!" Johnny said, relief evident on his face. "I was hoping you'd say that. Because..." he looked down sheepishly, ushering another small shape from behind him. "There's two of them." Maggie's eyes widened. "Johnny!" she whispered. "You didn't promise them anything, did you?" His eyes gave it away, and she sighed, trapped. "What if... what if we can't?" she asked. He shrugged. "There's gonna be a way," he said simply. "There has to be a way." Maggie looked at the two girls. They were pitiful. It wasn't as if she couldn't support them...

Suddenly, she had an idea. Johnny was telling her he'd help all the time. Surely he wouldn't mind being keeping these desperate promises. "Johnny," she began, a smile forming on her face. "You just gave me an idea." With the money she had, she could start a little orphanage, right?

She called it Maggie's Home.

***

He had run far away. He couldn't stop the tears. He had run back to his alleyway, where the trash and the old newspapers greeted him. He had curled on the ground, trying to comfort himself, to know relief. His throat hurt, his stomach hurt, his head pounded.

His heart hurt. It ached and longed for something he knew he could not have. "Andy..." he whimpered softly. He had seen Andy. But he had remembered why he could not be with him. He remembered why Andy had been upset with him now. The days came back to his memory slowly. He had betrayed Andy. He had done terrible things, unforgivable things. He had ruined Andy's life.

When he had first watched them take Andy away, long ago, after Andy had told him he still loved him, he had tried to murder again. He couldn't. It was as if the moment the police car had driven out of sight, his world had shattered. Something went off in his mind. Suddenly, it was as if he was lost, lost in the dark and reaching out, trying to find is way around. Before, he had given his heart, over and over again, only to be crushed, and then, when he had been granted a chance at love, he missed it. He had thought that he could just take advantage of Andy, as if the way of the world was just to be cruel. But he was wrong, so very wrong.

And it hurt so much.

He didn't understand. How could he keep messing up like this? Could he not do anything right? It seemed every time he thought he had it together, things fell apart and proved him wrong. His violent coughs interrupted his thoughts, and he held his stomach tightly as he tried to shake the feeling of nausea off. His hands clenched angrily. He was done with people. He was done with the need of being with them. He was...

He was so lost in his own misery that he didn't hear something. A humming something. There was the sound of rain boots squelching against the cold, soggy ground. But who? Who in the world would be walking around in this dump besides himself?

It was a girl. A little girl with tangled blonde hair and a dingy white dress. She was splashing in the puddles with purple rain boots. She was humming to herself while splashing through the water, giggling every time it hit her legs or the hem of her dress. She heard the pitiful sobs interrupt her happy, made-up melody, and she looked up and saw him. A boy. A kid, just like her. She heard his coughs and flinched as he threw up bile on the cold ground.

But he was crying for someone. Why was he crying for him?

"Why you're crying? Is it 'cuz you're sick?" The boy looked up into painfully green eyes. They were wide and curious, and full of innocent compassion. Just like Andy's. He sniffed and wiped his mouth, preparing a foul lie, but changed his mind. "Yes," he said softly. He didn't need to worry about being tough with this girl. Somehow, he knew it wouldn't make a difference. "Can't you go home?" she asked. She plopped down next to him, clicking her boot toes. "Mamma takes care of me when I'm sick. You should just get your Mamma. She'll know what to do. Mmhmm." She nodded. He shook his head. "I ain't got a Mamma. I ain't got a home. Not anymore. I've been bad." He sniffed and wiped his nose this time. The girl's eyes widened. "Oh. You been bad," she sympathized. "I know. Me too. I been bad too before... I been real bad once," her lip trembled a bit. "I hurt my Mamma somethin' awful. I called her a bad word."

He watched her. What could she possibly have done worse than him? She didn't understand. But he wanted to know. So he asked. She sighed and fluffed her dress. "I got mad at her. We were fighting and fighting, all day, and the next day, and the next. I was cutting my hair 'cuz I was so mad, and when she came in... I threw them scissors at her..." she started to sniffle, and a tear ran down her cheek. "I didn't mean to, but it hit her. Right in her arm. And I called her the 'b' word..." she looked down, ashamed. "I made her cry real bad. And then I ran away, 'cuz I was so scared." The boy felt his heart tighten. He didn't know why, but he wanted so desperately to know, what did she do after that? "Did you stay away forever?" he asked timidly.

She smiled. "No, silly," she said. "I can't run away forever. I came back. I was scared as the dickens, I was. I thought she never wanted to see me again. But when she saw me, she hugged me real tight, and I told her I was sorriest of all, and she told me she still loved me, and that we could still be a family." She looked at him. "Your Mamma still loves you too, I'll bet. Mmhmm. And Andy too!" The boy's eyes widened, and then a woman's voice called for the girl. She stood up. "I gotta go," she said hopping around happily. "My Mamma's callin' me." He tried to reach for her, ask her, "How did you know? Who told you about Andy?" but she was gone, calling, "Mamma! I'm here!" and he was left to think about what she had just told him.

And it was then he realized something. A mid-life crisis? Perhaps. But he realized, right then and there, the one thing he had never done in his life, was go back. He had always, always, run away. Never had he thought of returning. He had made himself hurt, angry, sorrowful, malicious... but never hopeful. He had never tried starting again. Because, he had to admit to himself, he was afraid. He was afraid of what starting again would be like. He had been a coward all his life and never turned back, running away and leaving his problems behind. But he finally understood that no matter where he ran, the problems would still be there until he dealt with them. The girl had done so. She had been scared too But she had gone back. She had gone back to the one who loved her, and told her sorry. And they had started over. He stood up slowly, and walked out of the alleyway. As he reached the cracked sidewalk that outlined the suburb streets, he saw her. He saw the girl and her mother embracing, watching the sprinkling raindrops start to fall.

***

Maggie was surprised to hear the knock on her door at this hour. "Goodness, surely not another interviewer," she muttered. Perhaps it was Karen, though her friend had said she and Mike would not arrive until tomorrow. She wrapped the little girl and her small companion up tight in their blankets, and left them with Johnny who was making sock puppets and making them giggle at his silly impressions. She walked to the entrance of her house, wondering if she'd imagined it. She hadn't heard it again, and the first one was so timid that she could have imagined it.

The door opened with a loud creak, and she reminded herself she needed to get that fixed. "Are you Ms. Peterson?" a small voice asked. She looked down and could not believe her eyes. But it was unmistakable. No one else she knew had those blue orbs and that bright hair, or those clothes for that matter. He coughed wearily and knelt on the steps, his hand resting against the door frame for support. "Yes, this is Maggie," she said hesitantly. Could it be who she thought it was? This one's personality was so different. Unless it was part of his plan. But he looked at her with such genuine sorrow- though perhaps it was the rain and the dirt on his face- that she felt it had to be true remorse. What did he want? "It's me, Ms. Maggie. It's Chucky. I've come back, Ms. Maggie," he said softly, tears brimming his eyes. "I've come back to say I'm sorry."