December 1979

His hands shook, sitting at the table in the middle of his broken apartment. December thirtieth had come, and Sam was no where to be found. In fact, after his rendezvous to the store today, he had come home, and all her shit was gone. And a note.

Dear Hyde,

I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. I really did love you. I do love you. But I'm already married to George. Also, your drinking is getting out of hand. If you decide to sober up, maybe one day I can give you another chance. But, until then, I bid you goodbye.

I just can'tdo it anymore.

-Sammy

So he smashed the twelve pack one by one, and now there was glass everywhere, his hands were bleeding, and the house reeked of beer. He put his head down on the dingy table, and his head pounded.

He began to cry.

Seven months ago he had everything he could have wanted. Even if Jackie had slept with Kelso, he had done something so much worse. He left for Vegas, and after being adamant for months that he could never marry Jackie, and telling her this over and over, what did he do? The lowest, most disgusting, most dirt-bag thing he could do. He married someone else.

And now, his someone else was gone.

And who the fuck was George?

"Fuck!" He yelled. "What the hell is this? What's wrong?"

No answer. He laughed dryly, trudging towards the bathroom, shaking from withdrawals, before thinking twice and headed for the old rotary phone. The phone only rang twice.

"Angela Barnett's office." A voice asked. It was a girl, sounded real nice.

"Hi, can you tell her her brother is on the phone?" He forced himself to keep his voice even. She shuffled on the other end, and he heard muffled voices arguing.

"Can I take a message?"

"Tell her that it's real important to call back." He told her, soft voice, before hanging up. He flopped back on his bed.

His ceiling was chipped. Like his damned heart.

He waited days, and days. Angie never called him back. So, he found himself at the last place he ever would have imagined himself going.

A twelve o'clock meeting.

Jackie sat down, putting her feet up on the foot rest. Her ankles and feet were swelling big time, and she needed to relax. She rested a hand over her swollen belly, laying her head back, and closing her eyes. She was five months in now, and as her pregnancy progressed, she became less and less confident that it were to be a boy. And, she was almost glad, because maybe if the baby is a girl, she won't look so much like him.

Anytime Led Zeppelin came on, she started to cry. Especially when Stairway to Heaven came on. He had introduced her to it. They had listened to it. Broken it down, and she had confided in him of how it had reminded her of her own parents and their selfish needs. And he, at their tender ages of fourteen and fifteen, had told her that he was always there for her to confide in him. This was before they were together, before they could stand each other. Before Veterans Day. She reminisced with a heaviness in her heart.

But, nowadays, she felt more anger than sadness. Angry that he hadn't wanted to talk it over after Chicago. He had just hightailed it, like a coward, and never came back. She shook the thought from her mind. There was a party tonight, for New Years. But, she was freakin' exhausted and it was only three in the afternoon. She had just gotten home from a doctors appointment, and was watching the snow from the bay window in the living room. She settled further into Red's pea soup colored chair.

The door swung open, and Eric came fluttering in with Donna, a box of doughnuts were secured in Donna's gloved hands. Jackie grinned. "You stopped at Kates!"

She got up, throwing her arms awkwardly around Donna. She was almost six months pregnant now, and her belly poked out a good amount. "You didn't have to do that."

Eric smiled, shaking his head. "You've been talking about it since we moved Donna back home." He told her. As of recently, Donna and Eric had been spending more and more time together, and it had been getting less and less awkward. "We figured we'd surprise you. We tried going around Christmas, but they were closed for the week for vacation." Donna told her, handing her the box of dozen doughnuts.

"One might be missing." Eric told her, smiling sheepishly. She rolled her eyes, but gave them an appreciating grin. "I love you guys."

"We love you, Midget." Donna told her.

December 1984

Angie looked at him in shock, when the girl lay on his shoulder. Julia looked up at the sky, pretending as if she wasn't there.

"Why don't you go with Uncle Eric, and I'll come into the waiting room in a little while." He suggested, frowning when she pouted. "But, 'Teven, I want you to come."

"I have to go to the bathroom, kiddo, but I swear when I'm done, I'll come right back!" He assured, bumping her in his arms. She was small, like her mother. Her raven curls were strewn, and she sniffled as a tear rolled down her cheek. "Mama said she come back." She told him quietly. He nodded. "I'll stay with you." He told her softly, looking at Angela, who's face was unreadable.

The girl gripped his t-shirt, clutching her fists in it, and cried into his shoulder. "Why don't we go for a walk? Yeah?"

She continued crying, but he handed Boots to his sister, and entered the building, walking down the hallway, a crying girl on his shoulders. He finally reached an empty waiting room, and collapsed on the couch, letting her lay on his chest.

Her sobs were erratic, cheeks flushed red. He rubbed her back soothingly. He briefly wondered where her sudden attachment to him was coming from, but switched his thoughts off. His feelings towards her were of confusion to him. How could he already love someone so much, when he had only found out a week ago. She continued to cry, and cry, and cry.

He sighed. "Kiddo, you can't keep crying like this, it ain't good for you." His voice was soft, and unreadable. His large hands rested over her back. She sniffled.

"I miss mama."

"I know you do, honey." He assured. He took his sunglasses off, and picked her up onto his lap She stayed with her head down. Her face was hidden behind messy raven curls. He brushed them out of her face, and gently lifted her chin with his finger, so their matching eyes met. "Are you having big feelings?"

She gave a tiny nod. "Are you having trouble understanding your big feelings?" She nodded again. He nodded back. "So am I. Would you like to talk about them?"

"I'm sad. I want my Mommy." She whimpered. "I know you do, sweetheart, but I can't do that for you. All I can do is be here for you."

She flopped forward onto him. "Can you sing to me?" She asked him. "Sometimes Mama sings to me."

"What's your favorite song that she sings to you?"

"The gentle one."

He raised an eyebrow. "What song is that?"

"Someone wrote it for her." She explained. "She won't tell me who."

She started humming a melody, and his eyes welled up with tears.

She giggled, falling back on his cot, her ravenlocks falling in tendrils around her face. She had his sunglasses on, and was laughing with him. It was the summer of seventy seven, hot and sticky, and they were often alone.

As more days passed he fell more in love with her.

He often sang to her.

"When life leaves you high and dry,

I'll be at your door tonight...

If you need help, if you need help."

He rubbed her back in small circles, wincing at his unwillingness to utter the words, or how she had even remembered them. It felt so long ago.

"I'll shut down the city lights," His voice was soft and rough. He often sang, to himself mostly and when he was homeless he would sing for change. He wasn't a pro, he never pursued it. But, this specific song that he had made up hurt. Not because of the memories, but because he had the lyrics saved.

And he broke his promise.

"I'll lie, cheat, and beg and bribe. To make you well, to make you well. When enemies are at your door, I'll carry you away from war if you need help, if you need help."

He stood, gently rocking her back and forth on his hip, her head laying against her shoulder.

"Your hope danglin' by a string, I'll share in your suffering, to make you well, to make you well... So give me reason to retreat... I know you'd do the same for me." She was playing with his curls, as he paced the room slowly. "And I will do it-"

She cut him off. "No, silly this is my part." She shushed him quietly. "For you, for you. Baby I'm not movin' on, I'll love you long after I'm gone." She sang to him. Her voice was messy and exhausted, and she yawned. Her snores were loud in his ear. He walked quietly back to the waiting room, and gently placed the girl in Eric's awaiting arms. She cuddled into him nonetheless.

He smiled, before looking at Angie sheepishly. She pursed her lips, before smiling. "Stevie, I gotta talk to you."