After 5 long years in prison for domestic terrorism and an accidental murder, Niall Martin Mallon, age 20, was being set free from HM Prison Maghaberry, in accordance with the Good Friday Agreement. It was Saturday, just before noon, when he woke up in his cell for the last time ever. He packed up what few possessions he had and stepped out of his cell for the last time. It was a strange sensation for sure, that small cell had essentially been his home for half a decade. In some ways he would miss it, but he also hoped to God he'd never land himself back there.

He was taken to the section of the facility that held the items on his person when he first arrived there years prior. It only consisted of a grey suit he wore during his trial and a beat up old wallet with 100 in it. Still he figured it was always good to have a suit for whatever occasion. Currently, Niall was dressed in blue jeans, black zip up hoodie, and black boots. That money in the wallet, plus money he earned over the last few years in the prison program came to nearly 500, so it could hold him for a bit if he couldn't get employment immediately (something he didn't have high hopes for).

He was soon greeted by an older man , late 50s to early 60s by eying him, in a brown suit. He was short but bulky, balding but with white hair on the sides, full on bushy white beard, small dark eyes.

"Niall Mallon?" he asked.

"Aye," was all Niall said in reply.

"Name's Fergal Tobin," he introduced himself, his voice probably gruffer than Niall's. "I'm yer parole officer, I am. Ye be from Derry?"

"Aye," Niall answered.

"Not much of a talker, are ye fella?" Fergal chuckled, arching his bushy eyebrow. "Well, we got 90 minute drive to Derry, give er take, so ye best be willin' to say more than a few words. Follow."

Fergal led them to his car, a faded tan station wagon with wood paneling.

"Trow yer shit in the boot and get in the passenger side," Fergal motioned.

Niall did as he was told (something he was very used to at this point), put his things in the boot of the car, then got into the passengers seat.

"We don't go nowhere till ye put on yer seatbelt," said Fergal. Niall so no reason to object. "Ye hungry, boyo?"

"I could eat," Niall replied with a shrug.

"I didn't ask if ye could feckin' eat," chuckled Fergal. "Asked if ye was hungry." Niall just nodded. "Good. Cuz I could eat a feckin' horse right now. There's a diner bout half an hour away that should do."

The drive started off in silence, with the two occasionally side eyeing one another, while Niall took in the scenery from his window.

"So, ye born in Derry?" Fergal asked.

"Born n' raised," Niall answered.

"Got family there?" asked Fergal.

"Aye," answered Niall. "Not sure how interested they are in seein' me though."

"Never visited ye?" asked Fergal.

"Younger sister sent me letters," replied Niall. "Parents haven't spoken to me since... all that shit."

"I see," replied Fergal. "Lots o' fellas in the same boat as ye, so they are. Awful shite this whole feckin' thing was."

"A real motherfucker," said Niall, now thinking of Michelle when he said that.

"That it is," agreed Fergal. "Now then, let's talk about what's gonna happen from here. I managed to set ye up with some work and lodging."

"Ye work fast," Niall replied with surprise. Guess luck was on his side.

"Well, the fella agreein' to it is sympathetic to yer situation," Fergal explained. "Seein' as ye was just a wain at the time ye got caught up in all this shite."

"What's the job?" Niall asked.

"Ye know Brooke Park?" asked Fergal.

"Sure, went there all the time as a wain," answered Niall.

"Ye'll be workin' odd jobs there," explained Fergal. "There's lodgin' within walkin' distance. Handy since ye don't have yer own means of transportation. Yer employer is the head groundskeeper by the name of Seamus Walsh. The pay ain't much, but maybe ye can find extra work 'round town."

"I can't exactly afford to be picky," Niall retorted.

"Too true," chuckled Fergal. "Now I gotta ask ye some standard questions. Got any drug habits?"

"Aside from smokin' a joint at 13, never touched anything," answered Niall.

"Definitely a good thing," said Fergal. "Course, every so often you'll be havin' a standard drug test. I'm sure ye understand."

"Aye, makes sense," agreed Niall.

"Drinkin'?" asked Fergal.

"More than yer average Irishman?" Niall quipped which gave them both a chuckle. "Some back in my teens, but not really."

"Cigarettes?" asked Fergal. "Seamus isn't too keen on staff smokin'. Risk of fires and such."

"Puffed a few as a teen," answered Niall. "But... haven't exactly been interested in bein' near smoke and flames after... that." He then casually pointed to his scars.

"Aye, makes sense," replied Fergal. "Read yer case. Nasty shite that was. Guessin' that's why it sounds like yer voice has gravel lodged in yer throat?"

"I'd say it's the main reason," chuckled Niall. "Either that or puberty really decided to go into overdrive.

The two shared a laugh over that. The diner had decent food, but after the slop Niall had in prison for the last 5 years, it was like manna from Heaven it was. They drove onward to Derry, having casual conversation along the way. Fergal had a grown son and daughter, each with a wain of their own. Niall mentioned Michelle and Grady, and how he learned in his letters from Michelle he had an English cousin living with them, but hadn't met him yet.

"I'll give ye some free advice, boyo," Fergal began. "Ye don't have to see yer family immediately if ye're scared. I can sympathize, truly I can. Had a few fellas deal with that, the results will vary. But don't avoid 'em ferever. Sounds like they still love ye. They just been havin' trouble dealin' with expressin' their emotions. Ye don't wanna live with that regret."

"I appreciate that, Mr. Tobin," replied Niall.

"Ach! None of this Mr. Tobin bullshit," scoffed Fergal. "We be in a first name basis.

"Ok, Fergal," Niall smiled.

"Good lad," nodded Fergal. "One other ting. Don't let those feelin's of what ye did fester inside. I can't begin to imagine how ye feel, but again I've handled many young men like yerself. Keepin' it all bottled up inside and not talkin' to anybody about will only make it worse. There's no shame in reachin' out to others, ye hear?"

"Yeah, thanks, Fergal," replied Niall. "Ye're more... enlightened than I expected for someone yer age."

"Experience, lad," Fergal explained. "It can teach ye more than some feckin' schools can."

The two shared a smile as they drove on.

Niall felt a pang in his chest as he spotted those ancient walls. It'd been only 5 years, yet it felt longer! He never thought he'd miss this town so much. Then he saw the oh so familiar corner. YOU ARE NOW ENTERING FREE DERRY. It was the most beautiful site he'd ever seen in this moment. FREE. That particular word hit him like a wave! Niall was a free man! No longer in a tiny cell, fearing for his own safety from more violent inmates. His tears flowed as freely as the River Foyle.

"Moments like that are what make this job worth it," Fergal said softly.

They made their way to Brooke Park. Finding a place to park, they walked to the head groundskeeper's house. It looked to be a simple, two story building. Fergal knocked on the door a few times and they waited. It didn't take long for someone to open the door. They were greeted by an older, tall, scrawny fella in his 50s. He had long black peppered hair, pushy beard, round rimmed glasses, wearing coveralls.

"Aye, Fergal," the man greeted in a high pitched voiced. "How are ye now?"

"Aye, grand, Seamus," replied Fergal. "Yerself?"

"Aye, grand," replied Seamus, who then noticed Niall. "This the ex Provo ye told me about?"

"Aye, Seamus, he is," replied Fergal. "Introduce yerself, boyo."

"Pleasure to meet ye, Mr. Walsh," Niall greeted, offering his hand. "Niall Mallon."

"Pleasure, lad," Seamus accepted the handshake. "Ye can just call me Seamus." He looked at Niall's hand. "I see ye can still grip alright, ye can."

"Aye, those old digits just got in the way," Niall shrugged with a smirk. "Had to part with 'em, I did."

"Got a sense o' humor, ye do," Seamus chuckled. "I tink we'll get on fine. Let me show ye yer room."

Niall and Fergal followed Seamus upstairs, where there appeared to be 3 rooms. Seamus led them to the third door on the right. The room was slightly bigger than Niall's old cell, with a bed, dresser, and closet.

"Bit wee, I know," said Seamus.

"Roomier than my previous livin' conditions," quipped Niall, which got a chuckle out of Seamus.

They headed back downstairs to talk more about the job.

"Are ye familiar with Brooke Park?" Seamus asked.

"Aye, played here plenty as a wain," replied Niall.

"Good to hear," said Seamus. "Park opens 7:30am, closes at 10pm every day. I mostly need ye Monday to Friday, in the afternoons to closing' time. Yer rent'll be taken outta yer weekly pay, so ye'll make around 426 to 490 per month, dependin' how many hours ye work."

"Sounds good," said Niall. "I got money saved up from before and my time inside, if ye want that rent first month's rent."

"No need of that, son," said Seamus. "That's yer money. Get yerself some things to spruce up yer room. It's still the weekend, so ye should get reacquainted with this here city. We'll have ye start this Monday, let's say round noon."

"Sounds good," agreed Niall, giving Seamus another handshake.

Niall followed Fergal out to his car to retrieve his possessions.

"I'll stop round every Friday to keep tabs on ye," explained Fergal. "This'll include those mandatory drug tests. Should ye remain clean on those up to 6 months, we'll cease on 'em. Good luck settlin' back into society, Niall. Remember what I told ye earlier."

"See ye 'round, Fergal," replied Niall.

The two shared another handshake, then Fergal drove off. Niall took his stuff to his room, put away what clothes he had, and decided to save the rest for later. He was gonna take Seamus's advice and get reacquainted with his old home.

Niall pulled his hoodie over his eyes slightly. He wasn't ready to recognized by anyone just yet. He figured the beard would help some, since he grew it while in prison. It'd been a good while since he had a long walk, he knew with his limp he'd have to rest periodically. He kept his right hand tucked in his pants pocket the whole time, thumb hooked into the belt loop.

It was a sunny but chilly day, with a slight breeze that felt great on his face. He had no real destination in mind, he just wanted to see how well he remembered the streets. He found himself at the Bogside, just outside the Derry Walls. Touching the old walls gave the young Mallon a shock of nostalgia. He walked along the row of stores, and a wide smile formed on his face when he spotted Dennis's Wee Shop. He remembered Michelle had started working there a while back. He could only imagine how crazy she drove the short fused owner.

Walking into the shop, Niall took comfort seeing Dennis sold plenty of shit merchandise. His eyes then came upon his younger sister behind the counter. She was so grown up looking now, but there was no mistaking her. That frizzy hair, those blue green eyes, that wicked smirk, he remembered it all. Hard to believe she was 18 years of age now. That meant Grady was 14 now. Christ, but he wishes he could get that time back.

"OI! What the fuck do ye think ye're doin'!?" he suddenly heard Michelle shout.

Had she recognized him already? He did want to be reunited with her and the rest of the family, but he didn't feel ready.

"Ye can't just fuckin' waltz in here like hot shit and not greet yer girl!" she continued.

That's when Niall realized Michelle was shouting at someone else. He looked over to see a gangly ginger fella with thick black rimmed glasses. Christ he was tall! Niall was around 5'10, this bloke had a good few inches taller than that.

"Didn't realize I needed yer permission to do a little shoppin', the ginger retorted with a sly smile.

"Cheeky bastard, ye are," Michelle smiled back. "Get that fidgety ginger arse over here!"

The fella sauntered over to the counter, leaned in, cupped his hands on Michelle's face, and the two began snogging intensely.

"Well, fuck me," Niall whispered to himself. "Michelle has herself a boyfriend."

"OI! What the fuck are ye two doin' again!?" Dennis shouted as he stormed over to lovebirds. "This ain't fuckin' make out point, it's a place o' business!"

"I got some crisps," Niall sheepishly grinned as he held the bag up.

"Then make a purchase and shift yer hole, ye fidgety ginger shit!" Dennis shouted.

"Jesus, Dennis, don't get yer knickers in a twist," Michelle chuckled.

"I think he's a wee bit jealous," Michelle's fella smirked. "Not gettin' enough action there, aye?"

"GET OUT!" Dennis screamed at the top of lungs. It was a very familiar phrase to Niall.

"I'll catch ye later, beautiful," Michelle's fella winked and gave her a quick peck on the lips before running out.

Niall had a good chuckle at what he just saw. Michelle's fella seemed to be good lad.

"I've told ye time and again, Michelle, not to be snoggin' with Fin on the clock!" Dennis shouted.

Now Niall knew the name of his younger sister's boyfriend.

"So ye'd be fine with us goin' at it in the shop if I wasn't on the clock," she retorted. "Ye're a fuckin' perv, ye are."

Niall had a good chuckle at that remark. Michelle always did have a smart mouth on her.

"Find somethin' fuckin' amusin', de ye?" Dennis drew his attention to Niall.

"Just appreciatin' the joys of young love," Niall replied. His remark made Michelle blush and tuck a bit of hair behind her ear in mild embarrassment.

Dennis let out a grunt and walked off, presumably to kick something if anyone was to guess.

Niall approached the counter, his eyes focusing on the Pick n Mix. Simple confectioneries, but he was feeling nostalgic again as he sorted through the various sweets with just his left hand, still pocketing his right.

"That seems like a nice fella ye got there," Niall commented.

"Aye, my Fin is fuckin' cracker, he is," Michelle replied with a loving smile.

Niall couldn't help but smile at how she addressed her boyfriend.

"Been ages since I had me some Pick n Mix," he said to himself.

"Catch yerself on! Where the fuck ye been that doesn't have Pick n Mix?" Michelle asked.

"Out in the country," Niall quickly, seemed like a decent excuse. "Been out there a good few years now. Not many places to buy sweets."

"Sounds like a fuckin' tragedy," she remarked.

"Wasn't ideal," he replied somberly. "Lucky for me, I had a bit of a turnaround. Back into civilization, where the sweets are plenty."

"New to this area, are ye?" she asked as she rang him up.

"I'm actually from here," he decided to be a little honest. "Just hadn't been 'round for a good while."

"Hope ye're enjoying yer return then," she casually shrugged as he paid.

"Can't complain so far," he smirked as he took the bag. "Probably be comin' 'round here plenty. Slân."

Michelle hadn't recognized her recent customer, but she felt an odd familiarity with him that sent a slight chill through her. The experience was surreal for Niall. It was the first in person conversation he'd had with anyone in his family for 5 years, and they didn't know it was him. He hoped she'd be forgiving when he eventually came clean. He decided he'd enjoy his Pick n Mix back at the park.