Maggie

Nick, Mary, and the kids had started having dinner with Maggie and her father at least once a week. The conversation was good for Mr. Hale, breaking up the monotony of their normal lonely dinners for two. It was nice to have a full table, and it made Maggie feel like she was helping out, no matter how small the contribution seemed. She smiled as she watched the kids eating, their appetite barely matched by Nick's as they all cleared their plates. Mary shook her head, smiling. "The way they act, you'd think I never feed them," she said sheepishly.

Maggie laughed, getting up to clear the table. "They must all be working hard to have such an appetite," she said. "It sounds like you've become a model employee, Nick."

"I've never done a job poorly, ask anyone," Nick said, feigning offense. "Nah, I won't give Thornton an excuse to fire me again. Besides, he works just as hard, if not harder. Sometimes, I don't think he sleeps at all, working straight through the night." He shook his head, looking worried. "And he's taken an interest in the kids, especially Tom here," he said, ruffling the boy's hair. "He says he needs a good education. Kids are the future and all that. He's a hard man to figure out. You've got to wonder what's going on in that mind of his."

The words pulled at Maggie's heart. It was strange to think about John caring about children, though it made sense. From what she knew of his childhood, he had a rough upbringing. The fact that he wanted better for other children made her smile. Maybe he even saw a little of himself in Butch's oldest boy. "You better watch out," she joked with Nick. "Don't let your friends hear you saying nice things about John, they'd come after you."

Later that night, Maggie read through her cousin's latest email again. Eden was begging her to come to visit, trying every tactic to convince her. Just the thought of formulating a response made Maggie feel exhausted. There was no way she could spend any amount of time with her cousin and her family and keep her composure. It was hard enough putting on a brave face for her father every day. No, she needed more time on her own before making that trip, no matter how lovely Boston looks in the snow. She closed her computer and set it aside, putting off replying for another night.

John

The bass didn't sound right. It wasn't something most people would notice, especially not the half-drunk and rowdy crowd that threatened to break through the floor. The whole building shook, pulsing, as if it was a living, breathing organism. In some ways, John thought, it was. The place was alive, filled with people that kept it going like cells in a body.

He tried to shake those thoughts loose. It wasn't the time to be nostalgic about the life The Mill had lived. He scanned the crowd, half expecting to see Maggie, camera in hand, snapping shots of the band and the fans, documenting the spirit that might soon be a memory. She wasn't there, of course. John knew that she hadn't shot a show in months. He picked up information here and there; she had started doing small personal shoots, engagements, graduations, simple things like that. The post boycott scene had taken its toll on everyone.

No one in the crowd seemed to notice that subpar bass quality. John made a mental note to talk to Nick about it. That would have to wait; Nick was fully involved in keeping the mosh pit under control. The last thing they needed was someone getting injured in the pit. John slipped back to his office, unable to capture the peace he usually found during a show. He worked on the schedule and accounts long after the sounds of the encore faded away.

Footsteps on the creaky stairs startled John awake. "Who's there?" he called out, wondering how long he had been asleep. Nick's head popped through the office doorway. "What are you still doing here? You should have left hours ago." John asked, trying to shake the sleep from his groggy brain.

"There was something off with the bass," Nick said, shrugging. "I was trying to fix it, but I think I'll need to get some parts and finish up tomorrow."

John was impressed that Nick had noticed the problem himself without needing it pointed out. "I can't pay you any overtime," he said, suddenly suspicious.

His change in tone was met with a smirk. "Well, you work over your time," Nick said enigmatically. "If things don't run smoothly, and The Mill goes under, then what am I going to do for the kids?"

"How are they, the kids, I mean?" John asked, remembering the boy doing homework at the table in Nick's small apartment.

Nick leaned heavily against the doorframe, gauging whether his boss really cared or was just making small talk. "It's not easy. Tommy, the oldest, he's whip-smart. And you know better than anyone, the schools are just not…" he shrugged, opening his hands helplessly. "Mary is trying her best to keep their minds and hands occupied. There's a lot of no good for an idle child to get up to around here."

That was a truth that John knew very well, from personal experience. The schools in the area Nick lived were riddled with problems. "It's too bad we couldn't set something up, have the older kids learn practical skills and bookkeeping, keep the younger ones busy with room to play," he leaned back in his chair and looked away, thoughtful.

Eyebrows raised, Nick pushed off the doorframe before settling heavily into one of the chairs in front of John's desk. "Better be careful with that sort of talk, someone will report you to your union," he joked.

John's eyes crinkled at the corners, though his mouth hid his smile. "It's better for everyone in the neighbor if the children stay out of trouble. And someone has to run things when we are all old and decrepit. You'd have to be an idiot not to see the value in that, though some of the other owners are," he said, finally cracking a smile.

"Well, we'd need somewhere to do it, big enough for the kids to play, like you said. The main room upstairs is plenty big enough when it's not being used," Nick said guardedly, eying his boss to make sure that was the same path his mind was heading down.

His caution was met with a grin. "Looks like you decided to use your brain today after all," John said jokingly.

Nick let out a sigh of relief. "Well, I guess I can't make do without it altogether."

"If you can work out a plan and a schedule, we'll look it over as soon as possible. I'm sure there are other staff members that would be interesting in participating," John said thoughtfully, mind already working out the details subconsciously.

Standing up, Nick reached across the desk to shake John's hand. "You've got it, boss," he said, saluting him before heading home, excited to tell Mary about their plans.

Maggie

There was a false spring for Faith's wedding. Everything was exactly as she wanted it to be, complete with the fancy church and a limousine out front to whisk the couple away. Maggie had to admit that the bride looked radiant as the crowd watched her climb into the limo. Mrs. Thornton frowned solemnly but didn't shed a tear.

"Congratulations, Mrs. Thornton," Maggie's father said as they all stood in front of the church, soaking in the unseasonably warm sun. "She'll be very happy, I'm sure. We haven't seen John around in a while. This winter has been dragging on; I hope he hasn't been sick lately."

Mrs. Thornton crossed her arms, looking over at her son who was standing with Ann Latimer, laughing. "My son is a hard worker, but he is never sick," she said firmly.

The laughter drew Maggie's attention. She watched as John offered his jacket to Ann, who was rubbing her arms as if she were cold. Ann gladly took the jacket, beaming up at John. It made Maggie feel nauseated, considering that it wasn't nearly cold enough to warrant such a display.

"Isn't that Mr. Latimer's daughter?" Mr. Bell said, the interaction not escaping his watchful eye. He glanced at Maggie to gauge her reaction. She looked away quickly, turning red, but couldn't keep herself from glancing back at them. Mr. Bell decided to say nothing more.

It was just a few weeks later that Mr. Bell sent over an invitation for their school reunion. "You'll go this year?" Maggie asked, sitting on the couch editing pictures on her laptop.

Her father thought for a moment. "I think I will, actually. I can give my students a break. Especially now that John's stopped coming so often." He sighed. "I'm worried about him."

Glancing up at her father, Maggie furrowed her brow. "Why? Is The Mill really in danger?" She felt the anxiety settling into her chest.

"Oh, yes, I'm afraid so," he said sadly. "But it's his spirit that I'm worried about. You know, after his father… died, he struggled so much to provide for his family. It would be so much worse to be struck down again." He looked sadly at his daughter. "I know what it's like to disappoint your family. He'll feel like he's failed his mother."

Maggie looked down at her computer. "I'm sure wouldn't ever view him as a failure," she said. Mrs. Thornton was surely never disappointed in her son.

So it was that Mr. Hale went off to his school reunion with Mr. Bell. "I'm almost nervous, to tell you the truth," he said, kissing his daughter goodbye. "It's been so long since I've been back, what if everything has changed?"

She laughed, patting her father's cheek. "Don't worry. Once you're there, with Mr. Bell, I'm sure it'll feel like you never left." He smiled in response, waving goodbye.

John

Some of the workers had started having a drink after work when there wasn't a show to worry about. John knew about it, vaguely. The whole team had been working so hard to keep things up and running, he figured they had earned some time to relax. He also knew that Nick had taken to restocking the beer they drank himself. John could hear quiet laughter coming from the bar as he debated heading home for the night. He hadn't made it home a single night in at least a week, usually falling asleep at his desk and waking up in the early hours of the morning to head home and shower.

There was a soft knock on his door, pulling his mind from his thoughts. Nick's head appeared through the doorway. "Hey, boss, why don't you come have a beer?"

John hesitated. They hadn't openly acknowledged the after-work activities that the staff had been engaging in. He had a vague idea that some of the wives and mothers had started bringing dinner for the kids. The younger ones usually were exhausted after an afternoon of playing and learning, falling asleep long before their parents were done with work. The mothers that didn't have to work took turns with the kids, and the ones that did helped provide more food in exchange for the childcare.

John didn't want to intrude on their newfound evening ritual, unsure whether he would be welcome even though it was his property and goodwill that allowed them to continue. "I've got that Japanese beer you like," Nick said, motioning him to come along.

"I haven't had that in a while," John said, slowly standing up.

Satisfied, Nick started down the hallway. "I bet you haven't ate today, either," he said. It was a statement, not a question. John wondered when his employees had started keeping track of his food intake.

He followed Nick to the bar. "No, I was too busy," he said. Nick just snorted in response.

The room got quiet when they walked in, everyone stopping in their tracks as they caught sight of their boss, unsure what he would do. John gave them a small smile and sat at the bar. There was a collective sigh of relief, then they all went back to their own conversations. Mary sat a beer and a sandwich in front of John before he could even ask for anything. Nick grinned, watching him devour the food like a man that hadn't eaten in days. For all Nick knew, he might not have.

"It seems like our little plan has worked out," John said finally, finishing up his sandwich.

Nick nodded, glad John approved. "We couldn't have done it without Mary's help. She's really stepped up for all the kids, not just Butch's." He beamed proudly at her across the bar. "I think some of the kids like it better here than at home, at this point. They're more comfortable here. Safer."

A few of the parents started gathering up their sleeping kids, bundling them up against the cold with the blankets they were using to nap on the floor. John knew exactly what Nick meant. Every kid deserved a safe place to grow.

Bell

The campus was beautiful this time of year, blanketed in snow. Mr. Bell was extremely pleased that his old friend had agreed to come up for the reunion. It had been years since they'd been together, walking the hallowed halls. He knew Richard missed his wife dearly, could see it in the far-off expression in his eyes during the quiet moments.

They sat in the coffee shop watching the snow fall. Mr. Hale was writing Maggie a letter. "She loves getting mail," he laughed when his friend questioned their method of communication. "Of course, I'll have called her more than once before she gets it. I might even beat it home." He sighed suddenly, that forlorn look coming into his face. "I worry about her, all alone. She's all I have left to worry about, really. What will happen to her when I'm gone, too?"

Mr. Bell was never one that was comfortable with such topics. "Come on, now! That's still far off." He frowned, thinking. "Anyway, I thought we had agreed. I'm her godfather, I've got no one else to care about. If, god forbid, it comes to that, she will be well cared for."

He was rewarded with a watery smile. "You'll take better care of her than I've been able to, I'm sure," Mr. Hale sighed.

"Stop it with that nonsense!" Mr. Bell playfully shoved his friend. "You're supposed to have put all that behind you." He looked at Mr. Hale, glad for the smile that came back into his eyes. "You know, this last week has done you a world of good. You look younger, somehow."

Nodding, Mr. Hale took a sip of his coffee. "I feel it, too. It feels like coming home," he said, looking out at the soft snow covering the grounds that held some of his dearest memories. "I should tell Maggie!" He uncapped his pen, preparing to do just that.

It was this conversation that played itself over in Mr. Bell's mind as he boarded the plane to Atlanta a few days later. He'd never dreaded a task so much as the one that was set before him. How could he tell his goddaughter that her father was gone, so soon after the loss of her mother? Now she had almost no one left- well, except Finn, but he wasn't much help or comfort.

His mind was in turmoil the entire plane ride, practicing the words he would have to say. Maggie was a strong girl; there was no risk of her falling apart. That was almost worse, in a way, knowing that she would pick herself up and take care of business with her usual aplomb. It was bitterly cold when he left the airport, the chill never leaving him even during the drive to the Hale's house.

Taking a deep breath, Mr. Bell got out of the car and started up the sidewalk towards the Hale's house. He could see Maggie through the front window, protected in the moment against the cold and the news he had to bear. She was reading a letter, smiling. Who knows how long he stood there? Long enough for Maggie to catch sight of him, her smile fading when she read the sadness on his face.

John

It felt like getting punched in the gut. He couldn't believe what he heard. "Dead?" John felt suddenly out of breath, shaking his head in a daze.

"Yep," Nick nodded, "In his sleep, they said. Poor guy, his wife's death took a toll on him." He saw how pale his boss looked, leaning heavily on the doorway as if it were the only thing keeping him upright. "Hey, Thornton, come sit down, have a drink." He grabbed John's arm and led him towards the bar.

The solid stool beneath him helped him regain his bearings. "And Maggie? What's she going to do now?" He asked suddenly as if the thought had just occurred to him.

Nick looked at him with pity in his eyes. "Well, there's nothing to keep her here now," he sighed. "Her aunt is coming down to take her home to Massachusetts, from what I've heard. She's been through a lot since coming here, but we're going to miss her for sure." John could tell that he meant it.

The blackness started creeping into the edges of his vision, the roaring in his ears making it hard to concentrate. He didn't want to think about what it all meant. It was too much to bear at that moment. Cradling his head in his hands, he took a shuddering breath, struggling to maintain his composure in front of the few staff members that were cleaning up after the show. Nick and Mary looked at each other, sadness and worry etched on both their faces.

"Here, let me take you home," Nick said, thinking that Thornton probably needed some privacy.

John shook his head before pulling his hands down his face. "I walked here, I can walk back." He said, standing up.

Grabbing his keys, Nick darted after his boss. "I'll drive you," he said firmly. John didn't feel like arguing, didn't feel like doing much of anything if he was honest.

They were silent on the short ride to the Thornton's house. John just sat there for a moment after Nick pulled into the driveway, noting that the lights were on in much of the house. He knew his mother was probably still awake and dreaded the thought of further human interaction. Maybe he should have stayed at The Mill after all.

"So, I'll see you tomorrow, then?" Nick said cautiously, watching John out of the corner of his eye.

John just nodded. He opened the door and climbed out before turning back to Nick. "Thanks," he said quietly, so soft that Nick almost didn't catch it before he closed the door. Nick sat in the driveway until he was sure John made it inside the house.