Takes place between chapters 9 and 10 of TCTBF

It was late. Maggie found that she couldn't sleep. It had been a week since her husband was arrested. Her bed felt oddly empty. She rolled over and looked up at the ceiling. With a sigh, she gave up trying to sleep. She sat up and turned on the light. She looked around at the room in front of her. Sean's things stared back at her. Giving up on sleep entirely, Maggie got up and pulled on her bathrobe. Quietly, she left her room and padded down the hall towards the closet. She didn't notice the other person in the hall until she walked right into them.

"Oh Richie, I'm-" The hands that steadied her were too strong to be Richie's.

"I'm sorry Mrs. Foley! I should have been paying attention." She looked up at the face of Francis Stone. "Are you alright?"

"I…yes. I'm fine." Maggie took a deep, shaky breath.

"Did I startle you? You seem a bit shaky." Francis worried.

Maggie rubbed her arm to try to dispel the chill that has come over her. "I'm just a bit chilled. It's nothing. How's Richie?"

His expression dropped as he turned to look at Richie's room. He looked back to Maggie before speaking. "If you ask Richie directly, he would probably say that he's fine."

"That's why I'm asking you." Maggie looked directly into Francis' eyes.

"He…he still has a lot of residual fear, spite, and anger left in his system with not real outlet. Sure, he lets some of it out when he's superheroing but it's not the same as taking out your anger on the source." He looked away. "I should know."

Maggie placed a hand on his arm. "Do…would you like some hot tea?" Francis looked up at her, shock present on his face. "I know that a cup of tea usually helps me relax and fall back to sleep."

"I…uh…sure. Yes. I'd love some. I just…I was on my way to the bathroom earlier. I'll join you downstairs in a minute?"

"Take your time. The water takes a few minutes to heat up."

She gave him a soft smile before moving past him and down the stairs. She made her way into the kitchen where she started to prepare the tea. She placed the kettle on the stove and leaned against the counter.

Francis Stone was probably the last person she thought would have been sharing space with her son. Sure, she suspected that her son might have been gay since he was young, but she never would have expected Francis. He was sweet though. If she looked past the criminal aspect, she could see a young man who made a few wrong choices along the way. She was pulled from her thoughts as the kettle began to whistle. Francis entered the kitchen as she pulled the kettle from its place on the stove.

"Francis, could you grab me two mugs from the cabinet?"

"Sure. Which cabinet?"

"The one over the toaster." She answered as she pulled out her tea box.

"Here you go." Francis placed two mugs lightly on the counter next to the stove.

Maggie pulled a chamomile tea from the box. "Here, pick a tea." She offered the box to Francis.

She poured her mug as he looked through the tea box. He pulled out an earl grey tea bag and handed it to Maggie. "Where do I put the box?"

"It goes on the counter next to the blender." Maggie unwrapped the tea bag and began to pour the water. "You like earl grey?" She replaced the kettle back onto its usual place on the stove.

"It was my mom's favorite. She would make a mug for each of us every morning after my dad left for the day. He didn't quite approve of the idea of a man drinking tea."

Maggie handed him his mug with a faint smile. "Let's sit at the table."

"Ok."

Maggie took a seat at the head of the table, Francis sat along the side. He looked over at her. She was holding the mug close in both hands, gently breathing in the smell of her tea. She would blow on the tea every few seconds to try and cool it down. Francis took a sip of his own tea. The flavors brought up memories of his mother smiling at him over her own cup. He looked back at Maggie, noticing a slight look of surprise.

"What?"

"Oh, it's nothing. It's just, the water is still too hot to drink."

"Oh! I-" He fiddled with the tea bag string with one hand. "I have fire powers. Heat can't burn me." He pointed at her mug. "I can make that cooler is you want."

"You can cool things too?"

"Well, not exactly. I can move heat from one place to another, but only on a small scale."

Maggie nodded. "Well, I appreciate the offer, but I like to hold my warm mug and enjoy the smells while I wait to drink it."

"I can understand that. My mother loved to do that too."

Maggie brought her mug back to the table. "Tell me about her, your mother." Francis looked up at Maggie. "It's ok if you don't want to though."

"No, it's fine." He took another sip of his tea. "It's just, no one has ever asked about her before."

"What did she look like?" Maggie tested the hotness of her tea.

"I get my looks from her. She had the most amazing red hair. It used to be so long she could sit on it. She would always keep it in a braid." His expression fell. "She cut it all off one day after my father came home really drunk, worse than usual." Maggie placed a hand on his arm. "At the time I couldn't figure out why. It wasn't unusual that he would come home and throw things around. I realized later that she cut it off because he had used her hair as a grip."

"I'm so sorry." Maggie squeezed his arm gently.

"It was a long time ago, but thank you." He took another sip of tea. Maggie took a sip. It appeared that her tea had finally cooled off. "She was fierce. She protected us as much as she could, but I could tell that it was harder and harder for her to stay strong. She left when I started high school."

"She was a brave woman."

"She left us."

"She stood up to your father. That's more than I ever did for Richie."

He looked towards her, but Maggie's eyes were fixated on the tea in front of her. "Your bravery is in the form of lasting long enough to last longer than Sean."

"I'm still not sure how to handle him being gone though." Maggie lifted the mug for another sip. "All of his things are still in our room as if he was only on a business trip."

"You think you'll ever pack them up?"

"I want to. It's as if they are mocking me sometimes. Tonight, I couldn't sleep and ended up sitting up and turning on the lights. His things seemed to stare at me, daring me to do something. I was going to get his suitcases in the hallway closet when I bumped into you."

"Why don't you just throw everything into boxes?" Francis took a big sip of tea.

"He'd expect that. It's also not in my nature. I guess there's also a part of me that wants to show him, one last time, what it is that he's lost. I was going to pack his clothes in the suitcases, and then box up his belongings as if we were moving."

Francis huffed out a small laugh. "Kill them with kindness."

Maggie laughed too. "I guess you're right."

"It's probably not my place, but if you need help with anything, I'd be willing to give you a hand."

"Thank you Francis. You're very kind."

They heard a scuffling sound and looked up towards the doorway. A very sleepy Richie leaned against the door frame rubbing his eyes under his glasses.

"Hey Richie." Francis said softly. "Want a cup of tea?"

"Hm?" Richie fixed his glasses on his face and sent a quizzical look towards the two at the table. Indeed, there was a cup of tea in Francis' hand. "I don't drink tea. Since when do you drink tea?"

Maggie laughed lightly. "Apparently, he used to drink it as a kid."

"I never pictured you to be a tea drinker." Richie crossed his arms and smile at the two in the kitchen.