It had not been an easy task, leaving everything behind. For a while, he just drove around and lived in his car that his father had given him. When Roy went home and told his father the "edited" version of what had happened, his father allowed him to take his old car so that he could search for Mary. He honestly had no idea where to go; all he knew to do was to look around art exhibits and ask about Mary Guertena and hope that perhaps she was there. Sleep did not come often, and when it did, he would dream about days gone by. Several times, when he awoke, he would find himself on the verge of tears; not once had he let those tears escape, and it was starting to take its toll.

He hated this. He hated looking for a "Mary" that was not his.

But, he promised. And that promise was what kept him going. All the sleepless nights, all the heartache he endured- but that promise pushed him to continue regardless.

Finally, after a month of searching, he found the city she lived in. He decided to find out where she lived, and hoped that perhaps she would not find him too intrusive or weird. It took him some time, but he eventually discovered where she resided and drove there. What stunned him was that it was not a mansion that he had thought it was going to be since her father was a famous painter. It was a small home that perhaps needed some tender-loving care. He sat in his car for quite some time, unable to think of what to do if she did answer the door. How could he explain all that happened or why he was there? It certainly would sound absurd, and he was certain she would think he was on drugs and strung out. After some time, he inhaled and exhaled nervously and went to the door. He knocked a couple of times and waited a moment until she answered the door.

When he saw her, it was like he had been punched in the stomach by Lou Ferrigno. She looked just the same… Never before in his life had he ever wanted to run away from something as much as he wanted to then. Apprehension, nervousness, melancholy, and happiness all mixed inside his chest. Memories of the days gone enveloped his mind, and his body felt as if it had been dipped in boiling water. By the look on her face, she was stunned to see him as well. The only thing that could be heard was the wind and the rustling of the leaves.

What happened next was not something he expected. She reached out slowly and gently touched his face. Unsure on what to do, he just stood there and let her do this. Her eyes locked onto his, and a soft smile spread across her face.

"…I know your face," she quietly said.

"And I know yours," he replied rather softly as well.

She blinked slowly. "I dreamt about you. I saw life through her eyes while mine were closed." She lowered her hand from Roy's face to her heart. "What happened to you was unfair and too cruel… My father broke you so." Her eyes filled with tears, and one lone tear escaped from her eye. "…I'm sorry."

Roy was puzzled by what had just been revealed. His Mary had dreamed about her counterpart, while the counterpart dreamed about his Mary. This Mary also apologized for the pain her father had caused, and cried on their behalf. He shook his head, not wanting her to feel guilty for something that was not her fault.

"Don't be upset… it happened and it's over," Roy spoke, some bitterness to his tone. Mary did not take it to heart, for she did not blame him for his resentment.

"Aren't I just being rude? Please, come in," she offered.

Roy shook his head again. "No, thank you. It's late, and I just wanted to make sure this is where you lived." He turned around and took a step forward.

"I understand," Mary began, her voice full of heartache. "You made your promise and you kept it." At this statement, Roy froze, his eyes wide in shock. So, she had seen it all- even the promise he had made to his Mary. "I'm sorry it took you so long to find me, but I'm glad you held true to your word. She would be happy."

He did not turn around to look at her. "Not quite… I still have another part of the promise to keep."

Mary smiled sadly. "You don't have to do that. I couldn't ask that of you."

"…You couldn't, and perhaps you won't… but she did," he mildly argued. He started to walk again.

"W-wait," she called out to him. He stopped again. "Where are you sleeping?" When he did not reply, she was given her answer. "Please… I know it's a lot to ask, but I don't want you sleeping in your car anymore. My house may be small, but it's cozy and spacious enough for two people. I have another room you can sleep in, and you can perhaps finally get a good night's rest." Good night's rest? Roy had forgotten what that was like. It sounded enticing, but… "I'll leave you alone and not bother you with anything. It's the least I can do for you coming this far."

He wasn't sure what he should do. He felt as if he should just get back in his car and drive away, but at the same time there was a compelling notion to stay. Was it because of who she was, or better yet, what she reminded him of? A moment or two passed until he simply nodded, to which she stepped back and allowed him to enter her house. After she shut the door behind them, he expected questions from her, but that did not occur. To his surprise, she merely smiled at him and walked away to the kitchen, where she proceeded to prepare dinner. Unsure on where he would stay, he just stood rooted in front of the door. His eyes wandered around the house, taking in his surroundings. Something odd stood out to him; where were pictures of her and her parents? Also, why was it that she lived in a small place such as this when her father had abundant fortune?

"Oh, silly me," he heard her speak, which brought him out of his thoughts. "I suppose you would like to know where you will be sleeping." She walked out of the kitchen and to a door to the left then opened the door. "Here you go. Dinner will be ready in a moment. I was working on it when you came here. I'll bring your food to you when it's done."

Roy walked into the room to see a bed, nightstand, drawers, and a small TV. The room itself was relatively plain, but obviously so much better compared to his car. He sat down on the bed, surprised that it was incredibly comfortable.

"Thanks, Ma-" he stopped when he noticed she had walked away. With a sigh, he lay down and looked up at the ceiling, stunned that there were no thoughts going through his mind. For the first time in a long time, he was comfortable enough that he felt his eyelids getting heavier and heavier… Mary walked into his room, a plate of fish, rice, and steamed broccoli in one hand and a glass of water in the other. When she looked up, she stopped and smiled, happy to see Roy fast asleep. Quietly, she exited the room and went to her own, where she ate alone.

He slept for nearly two days straight. At first, Mary was quite worried, but she kept her distance and let him catch up on rest. When he finally woke up, he exited his room to find the bathroom so that he could clean up. After showering and brushing his teeth, he noticed that he had not seen or heard Mary yet, so he started searching throughout the house for her. The last room he had to search was her bedroom. At first, he did not realize where he was; she had left the door open, and he just found himself entering the room. When he did realize, he started to leave, but he noticed numerous paintings scattered around. Curious, he walked up to them and studied them; he was stunned at what he saw.

The paintings were of his life with Mary, Ib, and Garry. Even the brief time Allen and Nora were there with them was before his eyes. It was moments that meant so much to everyone: the first time they all met at the lake; when they helped Mary at the museum, the moment when he had comforted Mary once she found out who she really was… so many tender moments were painted on canvasses. At last, he spotted the final painting… the painting was of the day Mary had faded away. Breathless, he reached out and gently touched it. A lump rose in his throat; he had yet to cry. She depended on him… he could not show weakness.

He missed her. So much.

"…I didn't think you would enter this room," he heard. The real Mary had returned home. "I had to do some grocery shopping. I thought you would still be asleep…"

"Why do you have these?" he asked, not facing her.

"I… well… I like to paint in my spare time, and-"

"Just because you 'saw' us doesn't mean you can just pretend to have been in those moments," he snapped.

She took a step back, a feeling of guilt washing over her. "That's… that's not what I was doing at all," she meekly retorted. "I just… I-"

He turned and walked toward the door. He stopped beside her but did not look at her. Her heart nearly beat out of her chest; he had every right to be upset. It would seem to others that she was perhaps stalking the other Mary's thoughts and memories to live them as her own.

"Keep these out of my sight." He took a couple of steps-

"You're not yourself…"

Jerking to a stop, he was startled by her statement. At the same time, he was angered as well. What did she know about him? Indeed, she had witnessed memories of him, but that meant nothing. She had not spent years with him. She had not shared the same bed, worked at the same place, or had those tender moments.

"…Why did you paint those? Why did you keep them? To let me see them? To torture me of times that will no longer happen?" he whispered.

"No," she spoke. "To give me hope."

He turned around, his eyes wide from shock. Hope? Hope for what? What honestly else could this woman want out of life? The daughter of a famous artist surely had never had to suffer or want for anything.

"What do you mean by that?" he asked.

She averted her gaze and smiled sadly. "Does it matter? I have groceries to put up. Get some rest."

Days passed by. Days of almost complete silence. Mary was used to the silence, for she had lived alone for quite some time. She continued to paint whenever she had the chance; she worked as a librarian at the college she went to. It had its perks since she had time to do homework. Roy felt lazy, and would often find himself cleaning the house for her. Never the one to stay idle, he looked for tasks to do. When she would return home, he would avoid her and often give her the cold shoulder. Understandably, she would keep out of his way; however, she would still fix him meals and leave them at his door. Yet, despite her understanding his bitterness, she was becoming resentful for the way he was treating her. If he had promised to the other Mary to try to get to know her, he was doing a horrendous job at upholding that pledge.

Another week passed, and before he knew it, he had been there a month. A month turned into two, and two became three. Small exchanges were made between the two, but nothing more. Usually, he was short with her or just ignored her in general. He did not know why he was so bitter towards her. He felt as if she was trying too hard to replace what he had lost, but she was not the type of person to do so. Day by day, he began to become conscious that he was not being his usual self, and he felt sorry for her. All she had done was offered him a helping hand and a roof over his head. He even got a part time job cooking at a restaurant again just so that he could help out financially. One morning, he walked out of his room just in time to see Mary heading out the door. It was storming outside, and the wind was blowing severely. A small urge of compassion hit him, and for the first time since he had been there, he spoke sincerely to her: "Be careful."

Either she had not heard him, or she was in too big a hurry to acknowledge his words, because she simply closed the door behind her. Once he ate breakfast and readied himself for the day, he decided to go out to the mailbox so that she would not have to when she returned. The wind nearly pushed him over while he was out, and he hoped she would be all right out in it. Inside, he sorted through the mail to see that Garry had written back to him. He quickly opened the envelope, ecstatic to hear from his best friend.

It's great to finally hear from you, friend. Sorry there was such a long delay. We've been busy.

So, you found her? I know it's going to be different. And I know this isn't something that you want to be doing. You and I both know that finding her won't change a thing, but this is what our Mary wanted. Just hang in there as long as you can… she may pull through.

On a lighter note, I'm going to be a father! The day we received your later, Ib found out she was with child. When you get the chance, you should come back and visit us. We both hope that maybe you can be here for the birth. If she wants, you could bring Mary along.

Keep your chin up, Roy. And never forget, you'll always have a place here.

Garry

Garry always seemed to know what to say. Roy decided he was to talk to Mary that night when she returned home. He prepared supper for her, and when she came home, he noticed that she was certainly surprised by this act of kindness. She walked into the kitchen, grabbed her plate of food, and wordlessly walked into her bedroom, where she shut the door behind her. He was prepared for this reaction. All this time, he had been so rude to her. He knocked on her door and waited a moment before she opened it.

"I… was hoping we could eat together," he spoke. She stared at him as if she was trying to determine what was on his mind, but she turned and grabbed her plate. They went into the kitchen and sat at the table, where they continued to eat in silence. It was some time before anyone spoke.

"I got a letter from home today," Roy began, breaking the ice.

"Oh?"

"Yeah. You remember Garry and Ib, right? Well, they're going to have a baby."

"That's exciting," Mary quietly said, a small smile on her face.

"Yeah. Apparently she's about four months along." He looked down at his plate. "…I can't believe I've been away for so long."

"Then why don't you go back?"

That was not a response he was prepared for. He looked up from his plate to her eyes, only to see that she was staring at her plate. "Go back?"

"You've been here a long time… I think you should go home," she stated softly. "I appreciate you getting a job and keeping the house clean during your time here, but you're not happy. And neither am I." Roy thought he saw a tear fall from her face. "…I was honestly happier before you came here."

This statement hit Roy hard. He had been making her miserable. Heart heavy, he stopped eating and slid his chair back away from the table. None of this was her fault, and yet he had treated her as if it was. She showed him so much kindness while he continued to show her acrimony. For a moment, he had nothing to say. What could he say to that?

"Mary… I am… I am really sorry."

She smiled, her eyes still locked onto her plate. "It's fine. Really. I think it's better off this way."

"No. No, it's not."

For the first time all evening, she finally looked up into Roy's eyes. "…I don't want you to feel as if you're tied down by that promise. Please… go home…"

He felt as if he could not breathe, but he stood up and walked into her room. Confused, she jumped up and followed him to see that he stood at her paintings. Scared at what he might do to them, she started to grab them, but he stopped her.

"These. Why did you paint these?"

"I already told-"

"I know you said to give you hope. But hope for what?"

She shook her head. "That's none of your business."

"If you didn't want to get to know me, or us, why did you bother with these?"

Tears filled her eyes. "Stop."

"Why did you paint these, Mary? Why did you keep them after all this time?"

All at once, she exploded out in sobs. "Because I wanted the life she had!" Roy jerked, taken aback. "I wanted friends and a family like hers! I wanted to be loved and to love in return! I had none of that! Not once!" She tried wiping her tears away, but they flowed faster than she could wipe. "You think all those paintings were my father's? That they were all his doing? I painted those! The big one in the museum? Yeah, that was mine. I would paint for my father, hoping that he would love me. He never had anything to do with me. All those paintings I sent him, yeah he took them, but as his own. I never got gratification or anything from him… I was… so alone…

"And then I started seeing life through her eyes… I saw how you loved her so much, and how she loved you… The friendship she had with Garry and Ib, and Nora and Allen… I was jealous at first, but then I thought… if I work hard, I can have that…" She wiped more tears away. "…But, you know what? No matter how hard I tried, no one would ever love me. The day you showed up… I wanted nothing more than to hug you, because I thought that perhaps you wanted to at least get to know me… and yet… and yet…"

She bowed her head and cried harder. All the frustration she had just continued to spill out. She started to walk away so that Roy would not have to see her cry anymore, but she found herself walking into Roy's embrace instead. Stunned, she looked up into his eyes to see them warm and full of empathy.

"Life has been so unfair to you… and I know I haven't been much better. You don't have to worry anymore; I'm not going anywhere. And… I'm sorry."

Her tears began to fall again, but this time for a different reason. Roy's embrace was so unexpected, but so affectionate that she found herself burying her head in his chest, her tears soaking his shirt. She wrapped her arms around him and held him tightly as she wept in his arms.

That night, he held her until she fell asleep.

From that moment on, things were much different. It was still slightly awkward, but they worked on patching their relationship. Laughter was not an uncommon expression anymore. Time went on, the two earning each other's trust and respect. Nearly four months passed, and Roy finally had enough money saved up to where he could go back home. As he got his belongings together, Mary helped him. All at once, he stopped and looked at her.

"Come with me."

She raised an eyebrow, confused. "What?"

"I want you to come with me. Even if it is to visit, I'll help you make your way back. I'm sure they'll want to meet you."

She played with her side-braid, nervousness plainly visible on her face. "Roy… I don't know…"

"Garry asked for you to come in his letter," Roy smiled. "It's okay. I want you to come with me."

A smile spread across her face, and her eyes lit up. Roy felt a peculiar twinge in his chest. "All right. Let me get my things together."

Unable to hide his joy, Roy… smiled as well.