A sequel to "Things Forgotten." Gary's going back to Chicago and with the help of his parents and Marissa, he's trying to get back on his feet with the paper.

Disclaimers: I don't own the characters. They belong to Sony TriStar, and CBS.

Rated: G
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Back to Before
by Ally McKnight

Chapter 1

When you feel all alone,
And a loyal friend is hard to find
You're caught in a one way street,
With the monsters in your head
When hopes and dreams are far away and
You feel like you can't face the day...
Let me be the one you call,
If you jump I'll break your fall
Lift you up and fly away with you into the night.
If you need to fall apart,
I can mend a broken heart
If you need to crash then crash and burn,
You're not alone.
   -Savage Garden
******************

  "Gary? Honey, wake up." Lois tried to gently awaken Gary who had fallen asleep in the back of  Bernie's truck. "Sweetie, we're almost there." After spending the weekend in Hickory, Gary was going back to Chicago to face his friends and the paper again.

 Gary sat up wearily. "Oh, hi, Mom," he said softly.

 "Hey, Gar, we're here," Bernie said. Gary swallowed the lump in his throat. McGinty's seemed to loom in front of him. He was back.

 He had a relaxing weekend, a long time to think. He had even loosened up a little. He shot peas out of his nose with his father at dinner, and been scolded by Lois, just like old times. But, still Gary felt the pit in his stomach grow. He wasn't sure he could trust himself with the paper anymore. Having his parents help would be good, but still he felt unsure.

 Gary rubbed his eyes, tiredly. "I'm home," he said softly.

 The family got out of the car. "Are you sure you're ready to do this?" Lois asked her son, obviously apprehensive about Gary's current predicament.

 "It's now or never," Gary said. The trio walked into the bar. Erica looked up as he entered. She pretended as if it were nothing out of the ordinary, but everyone in the bar knew something was up.

 "Marissa," she called into the office. "Gary's back." Gary heard the soft tapping of her cane against the ground, and Marissa appeared.

 Gary couldn't stop himself. He ran to her, and in one swift motion, grabbed her in a tight hug.

 "Gary," she said. "Are you okay?"

 "Now I am," he whispered, tears running down his cheeks. The party moved to Gary's loft, except for Erica, who remained in the bar to work.

 "So, uh, anything interesting in the paper?" Bernie asked.

 "Nothing much. A small fire.." Marissa trailed off.

 Gary felt a pang of sadness. Jeremiah... Jeremiah.. he had died in a fire.... "No," Gary thought. "I have to get over this."

 Out loud, he said, "Uh, go on, anything else?"

 "Not much," Marissa replied shortly.

 "Gary, we're going to go uh, help Erica downstairs," Lois said. She sensed that Gary and Marissa needed to talk. She grabbed Bernie's arm, and they left the two of them alone.

 "So, uh, how are the Bears doin'?" Gary asked nervously.

 "You know Gary, we do have to talk about everything sooner or later."

 "Everything?" Gary asked softly.

 "Yes, everything. How about sooner as opposed to later?" Marissa asked in her Marissa-like way.

 "Um, okay. What do you want to talk about?" Gary asked.

 "How about the past week?" Marissa asked.

 "Why don't I start at the beginning and work my way forward?" Gar asked quietly. Then he added, "And about shutting you out after Jeremiah."

 Marissa nodded. "Gary, I love you, you're like a brother to me. So, let's talk in a brother-sister way." She smiled. "Without the bickering. We'll leave that to Chuck," she said. "And you have to trust me," she added.

 "I do trust you," Gary said.

 "Then talk to me," she replied. It was silent for a few moments before either person spoke.

 "Agreed," Gary said finally. And he began to tell Marissa, everything.
------------

Chapter 2

I think I've already lost you,
I think you're already gone.
I think I'm finally scared now,
I think you're weak-but I think you're wrong.
I think you're already leaving,
Feels like your hand is on the door.
I thought this place was an empire
But now I'm relaxed-I can't be sure.
I think you're so mean- I think we should try.
I think I could need-this in my life.
I think I'm just scared-I think too much
I know this is wrong it's a problem I'm dealing with.
     -Matchbox 20
***************

 Marissa gave Gary a warm, gentle hug. The story brought tears to her ears. She then realized how scared he was. The whole time, he had known what he was doing, yet he did it anyway.

 "I really am sorry, Marissa," he whispered to her softly.

 "It's okay, Gary. Are you sure you're be alright."

 Gary nodded, then realized what he was doing. "Yeah, I suppose, but I don't know if I can ever face the paper again, or the cat for that matter." He rubbed his eyes, which were tearing up.

 "Gary, it's not your fault, about anything," Marissa said calmly.

 "It is my fault," Gary said. "I could have done a million things differently," he said, wiping his eyes.

 "And you could have chose to ignore the paper, that day or from the start. You've affected so many lives, and the lives of their families. Do you realize that?"

 "Yeah," Gary said softly. "But it does little to comfot me. I'm not going to... to go do anything stupid again... I'm going to try... to try again with the paper and all."

 Suddenly, the cat jumped up into Gary's lap. Instead of hissing or biting him as he would have expected, the cat rubbed his head against Gary's chest. Cat settled to a comfortable position. Gary stroked him.

 "You don't hate me, do you buddy?" He asked Cat softly. The cat meowed once n response.

 "Somebody sounds hungry," Marissa said softly. "I'll leave you two alone," she said, giving a small smile. "I'll be downstairs if you need me," she added.

 "Okay," Gary said absently. He searched his cupboards until he came upon a new can of tuna. The cat purred in his arms. He let him go gently.

 He opened the can of tuna, and layed it before the cat. The cat ate, slowly at first, as if keeping one of Cat's green eyes transfixed on him, alert for any sudden movement.

 Gary scratched him behind the ears. As he walked back to the couch, he tripped over something hard. "Ow," he moaned, rubbing his knee gingerly. He looked for the culprit, and his eyes widened in pure shock.

 There it lay, as if it had always been there. "Lost Chicago." The book had been on the shelf, it had always been. Gary was never a very messy person, he left that to Chuck, but it was on the ground. He didn't remember looking at it lately. The last time he had even glanced at it was months before.

 He took the book in his hands. He opened the book slowly, and delicately, as if opening it without the gentle care would make it distegrate.

 There it was, the picture of Snow... and Cat. He scanned it, wondering why the entire time. He had seen the page hundreds of times, and never seen anything new.

 Gary turned to the back of the book. Something he had never seen before was written. 'McGinty's base., 3rd brick from top, 4th row.'

 Gary read it over again. McGinty's base? That must be the basement he realized. The basement had brick walls. What did it mean? There was only one way to find out.

 Gary managed to creep downstairs without arousing any attention. He looked at the book for reference. He found the precise brick, and took a deep breath. Sure enough, it was loose.

 Reaching his hand in, he pulled out a small book. The cover was embossed, 'L.S.'

 "Snow," Gary said softly. Flipping through the book he found that only three pages were written in. He read the first sentence outloud.

 "Dear, Journal, today, I failed..."

 Gary stopped reading. He had known what it was like. Somebody did know, somebody had felt, how he felt.

-------------

Chapter 3

If I could tell the world just one thing,
It would be that we're all okay.
And not to worry, 'cause worry is wasteful,
And useless in times like this.
I won't be made useless,
I won't be idle with despair,
I will gather myself around my faith,
For light does the darkness fear.
  -Jewel
**************

 Dear Journal,
   I did everything right, but everything wrong. I bought my plane ticket to Texas, even called a Secret Service agent, J.T. Marley for help. All through the plane ride, I kept thinking one thing. 'I HAVE to save the president.'

 After I got there, everything was a big blur. I tried everything. I went up to the book store, to stop Lee Harvey Oswalt, who was supposed to shoot the president. The key word in that sentence is 'supposed.'

 Oswalt didn't do it, he was a dupe. Because of what I did, and what I've failed to do, one innocent man is dead, and another blamed for killing him. I, myself, don't even know who did it, and Lord knows the cat won't tell me.

 I sulked for awhile. Didn't eat, sleep, shave, tried not to even think. Numb myself, feel  no pain. In short, it didn't work. One word stuck in my head. 'FAILED.' When I attempted to go outside, everything rang with the bitter word. The little girls jump
roping in the park seemed to be mocking me.

 I went to the funeral. The service was extravagant. I was just another face, another person grieving. I didn't even cry, I was numb with grief.

 I don't know what I expected, but it didn't happen. Nobody reconized me as the reason why JFK died. Nobody stopped and said, 'That's the reason our country is in upheaval. No little boy came up to me, and tugged on my shirttails saying, 'Say it ain't so, Snow, say it ain't so.' Nobody knew I knew he was going to die before it happened. I wanted to apologize to the
family, but couldn't even get close.

 Oh, God, his kids. Are they going to grow up wondering where daddy went, and blaming everything on me. Will Mrs. Kennedy go to bed at night, and stare at and empty pillow, and wish revenge on me? Of course not. Nobody knows about me.

 As I turned to leave the graveyard, I saw the man I had seen at the bar, when I went out drinking. He seemed familiar, like I should know him, as if I had some connection to him, but it must have been just me.

 My last memory of the funeral, was J.T. Marley. He had the oddest smile on his face. It wasn't sad, it wasn't grim, it was sort of EVIL. But I must have been going nuts. Marely blamed himself for everything. In a last ditch effort, I had even showed him the paper, but he still blamed himself.

 Then, I saw the paper. It was my obit. I was going to die. A building would collapse on me. It was the right thing to do, to die. To make up for everything I'd done. I went to the factory, well aware of what I was doing.

 The boards crashed on my head, and the man from the graveyard was back. Leo Burkette, the man who got the paper before me. He said all the right things, and somehow, I listened. Somehow, I understood. Somehow he convinced me to live.

 I just hope whoever gets the paper after me, should he or she ever fail, won't blame themself. I don't want them to got through everything I went through. I want them to know that just because one got away, doesn't mean that they have to slip away too. True, the thousands of lives I have saved, and will save, should fully make up for the one life, but in my book, a million lives don't stake up to the one that I lost, president or not. I just want the next person in line for the cat to not blame himself. I guess sometimes the hardest person to forgive if myself.

 This will live with this over my head forever, and take it to the grave, but I think I'll be okay. Really, truly, okay.
   Sincerely,
     Lucius Snow

 Gary shut the book, reflecting on what he had just read. That's what he had to do. To let whoever was going to get  the paper next know they aren't alone. He needed a pen, and some time alone. Both could be found upstairs.

 As he opened the door, his mother ran to him, and wrapped him in a giant hug. "Don't scare me like that again," she scolded.

 "Huh? What?" Gary asked confused.

 "You weren't in the loft. We thought you went...back," Erica said slowly.

 "I was just in the basement. Uh, could you excuse me a moment?" Everyone nodded.

 "Wait, Gar? Are you ready to take on the paper? There's a mugging in the park in three hours. Think you can handle it?" Bernie asked. Everyone looked at him expectantly. Marissa had a pained look on her face.

 Gary gave the oddest look. "I can try," he said softly.
-------

 Chapter 4
 
 Cuz I'm losing my sight,
 Losing my mind,
 Wish somebody would tell me I'm fine
 Losing my sight
 Losing my mind
 Wish somebody would tell me I'm fine.
 Nothings alright
 Nothings fine
 I'm running and I'm crying.
 I can't go on living this way
 Can't go on
 Living this way
 Nothings alright.
    -Papa Roach
 ----------------
 
 Gary watched with amazement as the letters on Snow's  journal swirled around to from 'G.H.' Just like the  paper sometimes changed. Gary opened the journal.  The  entry was gone, but it made no difference. The words  were imprinted on his soul. He sat down. Something  didn't feel right when he tried to right.
 
 It was the setting. He knew where he had to go. It  would be painful, but it would be the only way. He  scrawled a quick note saying, 'be back later,' and tossed it on the table. He knew if he told anyone they'd prevent him from going, or even worse, go
 with him. Gary felt sort of an empty feeling in the pit of his stomach. Maybe it was because the first time in so many years, the Paper wasn't in his back pocket.
 
 He could hear J.T. Marley's voice in his ears. 'Like a moth to the flame.' Gary shuddered. Even after all those years, the thought of Marley frightened him. He wished he could tell Marissa, or even his parents everything about that day, but it wasn't that easy. Nobody would understand. About the nightmares that plagued his sleep. Nobody knew how many nights he woke
 up in a cold sweat hearing Marley's bitter cold voice.
 
 Maybe the problem was, as Chuck would say, that he cared too much. He remembered Chuck teasing him when he first started getting the Paper. 'Geez, Gar,' he'd say. 'Take the weight of the world off your shoulders for just one day. Let the other guy take your place for awhile.' But, Gary never listened to Chuck anyway. Sometimes Gary did wonder why he helped, and why he was chosen. Why him? Was there anything special? 'If I  had been chosen, I wouldn't have let him die,' Gary thought.
 
 Gary looked at the remains of the apartment building.

 The memories were fresh in his mind. Sometimes Gary wished he'd get amnesia, just once, to not be able to remember everything he'd seen. Never remember the pain, the violence, the hatred, never even see it.
 
 Gary climbed up to the roof of the building next door. The building he had crawled to for safety. He peeked over the edge. He could see it. Could see Jeremiah's desperate face, hear his short, rugged, gasps of breath, his last breath echoing in Gary's ears
 forever. Could still hear his scream, the scream that broke Gary's heart. Gary felt his heart beat a little faster. Maybe he shouldn't have come. But it was the only place where he knew what to say.
 
 "You gonna jump too?" A voice asked, cutting into Gary's thoughts. Gary turned around to see a tall, teenage boy, with his hands jammed in his pockets. "I think I'm going to do it. Life ain't worth it anymore."
 
 The boy looked vaguely familiar, but Gary couldn't quite place him. He had saved so many lives, he could have been anyone of them. "Sit down here," Gary said softly. "Why would you want to jump?"
 
 The boy shrugged. "My life stinks. My name's  Randy by the way. Well, you see, yesterday doctors discovered I have leukemia. My dad died a couple years ago, leaving me, my mom and my little sister. My mom works at a dingy diner. With all the hospital bills I'm going to take up, she can work all the overtime possible, but it won't do any good. It's hopeless. My sister
 doesn't understand our family problems. She didn't talk to my mother for a week, when she couldn't afford to send her on a ski trip. If I die, Sandra can go on her ski trip, and Mom can take a break from work. What about you?" Randy asked. "Why are you jumping?
 
 "I never said I was going to jump," replied Gary.
 
 "Maybe not, but you're thinking about it," Randy said, sure of himself.
 
 "And how would you know this?" Gary asked.
 
 "When nobody cares about you, you get around. I know people. You look like your puppy just got run over by a garbage truck," Randy replied.
 
 Gary sighed. He felt oddly at ease with him. "Fine, I'll tell you. He told Randy everything, excluding all the parts about the paper though. But he didn't stop at Jeremiah. He found himself telling Randy about when he referred basketball, and what happened to JoJo. He ended in tears.
 
 "I knew I knew you from somewhere," Randy said softly.
 
  Gary looked up. "Huh?"
 
 "Basketball. Randy Owens, guard."
 
 Gary nodded. "Now I remember. You have potential, you know?"
 
 "Yeah, so do you brah," Matt said. "Before I met you and the Sister, I was a messed up street kid. I hung out in alleys all day, and starting rumbles with the rich snobs. I even got arrested once, when I pulled a knife on a snob who tried to jump me," Randy said.
 
 "Then, I found the basketball court. Wanna know what I thought about you, first time you came around? Well, I thought you were a pretty boy, preppy, trying to help out us thugs. Then, I got to know you a little better. You treated us with respect. You didn't spit on us or hate us, because we have a police record. You treated us like we were equals. JoJo and Marcus, the rest of
 the guys too, we all thought you were great. The Sister adored you. You're great."
 
 "I don't feel so great about now," Gary said quietly.
 
 "Maybe so. But you changed my life, and the lives of a bunch of kids who's be out on the streets fighting with broken off beer bottles and switch blades right now. Look man, we've all made mistakes. It ain't your fault," Randy said.
 
 "Then why do I feel so horrible?" Gary asked.
 
 "When my father was dying, he was in the hospital. He took a bullet for me. A bullet out of one of the snobs' guns. I blamed myself, and my dad knew it. He was lying there, and he said to me. 'Buck up boy, it ain't your fault.' He never was very good at expressing his feelings. He said, 'It's worth it you know? Saving you, Randy. You've got a chance to make something of your life. You go and you live, and if I ever hear you blaming yourself, me and Elvis up in Heaven are going to zap you with a lightning bolt, knock some sense into you.'" Randy smiled a little. "He said 'second chances are what keep us alive.'"
 
 "Then why are you doing this?" Gary asked.
 
 "It's for my family. I caused enough trouble already. It's best for them," Randy
 
 "No, it's not. You have too much to live for. Everything will get better, I know it. You have to have faith," Gary said. "I think I've gotta get me some faith too," he added.
 
 Randy nodded. "I guess you're right. Faith. Yeah, faith in the good men and women of the world. I'll make a deal with you. I don't jump, if you don't jump," he offered.
 
 "I'm okay with that," Gary said.
 
 "In a month, I'll swing by McGinty's, see how you're doing," Randy said. They shook hands.
 
 "Deal," Gary said.
 
 "Thanks Randy. You've helped me a lot," Gary called after him.
 
 "Thank you, Mr. Hobson. You stopped me from making a big mistake." Randy stopped. "You know what I think?"
 
 "What?" Gary asked.
 
 "I think we all have to make choices in life. But sometimes, God sends us a guardian angel, and stops us from making the bad ones," Randy replied. With that, he left.

 -----

Chapter 5

In this crazy world,
You can prove that you can make it
If you're strong enough to take it.
Still there will be times
When you find this life you're livin'
Is just takin' all you're givin.'
When you need someone to run to
The shelter of my love is always near
Oh, let me be your cover whenever darkness falls.
I'll be there, I'll be there.
***************

Gary let Randy's words sink in, fully. The last comment was the one that hit him the hardest. Was it possible that he really truly made a difference? Gary had always been so frustrated. He was helping the people of Chicago, when so many other people in the world were getting killed and hurt. Who would look after them? Who would be their guardian angel? Maybe there were other people who got the paper, all over the world, but then how come there was still so much violence if someone had a chance to stop it? Gary asked himself.

Then Gary remembered Snow's words. 'The choice is yours, always has been.' Did some people really choose to ignore the paper, ignore the needy people? Was it possible people could be like that? To Gary the paper was never a choice, it was an obligation. For the past couple of years it had become as natural as eating and sleeping to him. Was it possible that people could ignore it? Was it possible that he did matter to people. That he did make a difference?

Gary scribbled in the journal, pouring his heart and soul into it. He didn't want the next in line for the paper to have to go through everything he went through. He wiped a tear from his eyes, gently, and sighed. The clouds moving slowly by him, he stood up.
It was as if he could feel Jeremiah's presence beside him.

Gary felt a sudden warmth on his shoulder, like a gentle hand, patting it, reassuring him. "I'm sorry, Jeremiah," he said softly, letting the tears flow freely now. Gary felt an even warmer sensation in his heart. He was forgiven.

He walked back to McGinty's, reveling in the smallest details. The little boy holding the pretzel, and the mother pushing her child in a stroller. Gary had never stopped to really notice things. He saw things in a whole new light. Maybe Randy helped him realize that things were never as bad as they seemed. He had had a happy child hood, with two parents that loved him dearly. Though not a very large number of friends, the quality of the friends was very good. Gary never did like a large group. He preferred being a loner anyway.

He guessed after Marcia changed the locks on their apartment and threw his suitcase out the window, he became afraid to let anyone too close. If he loved someone, he had reasoned, it'll never work out. Mostly, because it never has.

Like with Emma. He had loved her so much, and she had loved him. Well, maybe she hadn't. She was always in love with Marco, Gary was just a replacement. So, he did what he had to do, and let her go for Marco. And again, his heart was broken. So, as long as he never loved, he could mask his emotions, keep them tight inside him. He could just go on, and nobody would
notice his heart slowly breaking. Gary had always held an invisible wall between him and other people, except for Marissa. Marissa could read him like a book, and he didn't even bother to try to hide anything from her. But the wall between Gary and everyone else was starting to crumble. Losing Jeremiah caused all that.

Gary had never been much of a crier, even when he was younger. He wanted to be 'macho' like he always thought his father was. Showing feelings wasn't something macho guys did, it was what sissies did. Then Gary realized that he was wrong. Maybe crying had helped, like Marissa had said. Maybe just showing that he did too cry and have feeling was enough. Maybe so.

He reached the bar, a little less miserable than when he first left. He walked up to his loft, the journal tucked under one arm.

"Where ya been?" Bernie asked. "We've been worried about you son." Great. The parental smothering would begin.

"I went back," Gary said. He didn't have to give the place, they all knew.

"Closure," Marissa said, the single word having such meaning.

"Yes. Closure," Gary said softly. He looked around, noticing Erica was not there. "Where'd Erica go?"

Bernie frowned. "Shopping. Big sale somewhere." It was obvious Bernie did not care too much for Erica.

Gary nodded absently. It didn't matter too much to him. Everyone he truly loved was present at least. There was a light tapping on the door, and a familiar voice.

"Mr. Hobson," the voice said.

"Boswell?" Gary walked quickly to the door. There stood Boswell, carrying what looked like a large packet of mail.

"Your mail, sir," Boswell said.

Gary took the package. "Why didn't you send it before? I haven't lived there for a couple years now."

"The mail comes either when it;s too late to do anything with it, or just when you need it. In this case, I have a feeling it's the latter," Boswell said winking, and accepting Gary's generous tip.

"Thanks Boswell," Gary called after him. "It's mail, sent to the hotel," he said, answering everyone's unasked question. He took the top letter off the large stack. It was postmarked from Arizona. He opened it up, and started to read.

Dear Mr. Hobson,
 Hi, it's Tony. From the factory, awhile back. I just wanted to let you know I'm with my grandparents, safe and happy. Life is pretty good here, thanks to you sending me here. Most people wouldn't have cared about a lowly street kid, but you did. Thank you for that.

I've made some great friends, and a girlfriend too, who's real pretty. It's weird going to school, and coming my hair, and having clean clothes to wear everyday, but I'm getting used to it. My grandparents are terrific and they treat me well.

Thanks Mr. Hobson. I don't know why you cared whether I froze or not in that building, but thanks. You're a good guy,you know that. You made a big difference in my life.
 
 From,
  Tony

P.S. Are those Chicago winters 'brisk.' It's really warm here, and never snows. I don't think I miss the winters there very much.

Gary folded the letter up. He had made a difference. He really had. "I made a difference," he mumbled. "I really did."

-------

Chapter 6

I took a walk around the world
To ease my troubled mind
I left my body lying somewhere
In the sands of time
I watched the world float
To the dark side of the moon
After all I knew it had to be
Something to do with you
I really don't mind what happens now and then
As long as you'll be my friend at the end.
        -3 Doors Down
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~`

In the large stack of letters, there were dozens of thank-you notes from people Gary had saved, They each touched his soul in a different way. They had each stated that they thanked him, and that he had made a big difference in their lives. Gary felt a tear roll down his cheek, as he read the last letter.

"What do they all say?" Bernie asked.

"They say I helped," Gary said softly. It was slowly dawning on him that maybe he did make a difference. Maybe he was useful to Chicago.

Lois noticed the look on her son's face, and decided it would be better to not say anything. She just hugged him because she thought, that was what he needed. Comfort. Comfort and time to heal his emotional wounds.

Gary looked up at his father, with hope shining in his eyes. "So.... when's that mugging?" He asked softly.

"Are you sure you're ready for this?" Marissa asked.

"Ready as I'll ever be," Gary said.

"It's in an hour," Bernie said, glancing at his watch.

"Then I'd better get going," Gary said softly. He dropped all the letter onto the couch.

"Do you want any help?" Marissa asked.

"I think I should do it on my own," Gary replied calmly. He brushed a tear away from his eye. He wasn't going to cry anymore. "Can I... Can I have the paper?" He asked his father. Bernie handed it to him, silently.

"Good luck," Marissa said, obviously very worried. Gary kissed her on the cheek.

"I'll be okay, I promise," he said softly. After he hugged both his parents, and pulled on his leather jacket, he headed out the door. He paused outside the door. 'You sure you're ready to do this, Hobson?' Gary asked himself. He nodded. 'I have to do this.'

He checked the paper. 45-year old, Rebecca Cane was to have her purse stolen at Navy Pier. He swallowed a lump in his throat. He sure hoped he was ready.

Gary hailed a cab, and he was on his way. There was a little traffic, but Gary managed to reach Navy Pier with fifteen minutes to go.

He glanced wildly around. For ten minutes of wandering he saw nothing that looked even a little suspicious. Then, he saw him. 'Him,' was a man crouched down in the bushes, looking at a woman. He guessed that woman was Ms. Cane. Glancing down at the picture in the paper, he knew he was right.

The man slowly got up, and ran to Rebecca. Gary made his move, though still quite unsure of himself. He tackled the man. Rebecca gasped in surprise. The robber managed to grab her purse, and start a tug-o-war game with Gary for it.

Gary pulled with all his strength, and the purse came into his hands, one strap broken off. A cop patrolling the area managed to grab the would be mugger.

"Thank you so much Mr...," Rebecca said.

"Hobson," Gary replied softly. He was still on the ground, looking at the broken purse. That had never happened before. How could he let it break? "I failed again," he whispered.

"Well, Mr. Hobson, again, thank you," Ms. Cane said.

"I broke it," Gary replied, swallowing back tears.

"It's okay, sir. It wasn't a very expensive purse. If that man had robbed me I don't know what I'd do. I run a business, and that was yesterday's earnings in this purse. I was headed to the bank. You could buy a pony with as much money as I'm carrying." Rebecca could sense there was something else on the young man's mind. "Well, thanks. Bye Mr. Hobson."

Gary still sat on the ground, thinking. She had thanked him. Thanked him more than most anyone else had. But that didn't make a difference. He sighed and glanced at the paper. His eyes widened, and his heart stopped.

'BLIND WOMAN DIES IN APARTMENT ROOM BLAZE.'

There was a picture below it. Marissa.

--------------

Chapter 6

Did you ever know that you're my hero?
And everything I would like to be?
I can fly higher than an eagle,
Because you are the wind beneath my wings.
         -????
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Gary didn't think, he just ran. His feet pounded against the pavement, making loud 'thunking,' noises. He had three more blocks before Marissa's apartment. He couldn't fail, he couldn't.

Tears stung his eyes. 'I'm going to fail, I'm going to fail.' He only had ten minutes.

Gary turned the corner sharply and barreled into a woman with a bag full of groceries. His bad knee hit the sidewalk sharply, and pain seared through him. He ignored it.

"S-sorry," he called as he ran off. The pain in his knee was hard and over bearing, but he had to keep running. Tears slid down his cheeks. This was Marissa, his friend. He loved her. He couldn't let it happen.

His side ached, and if he could've, he would've stopped to catch his breath. But he wouldn't, he couldn't. His arms pumped, and his feet thumped. His heart raced, and as every second passed, he got a little more worried.

He didn't have time to check his watch, but his head told him he didn't have much time. He sprinted around the corner, turning onto Marissa's block. Gary's heart sped up as he saw black clouds of smoke coming out of Marissa's apartment.

Gary, sneaking past the fire fighters, who were under the impression that everyone was out, ran through the door. His vision swam, and the smoke almost overcame his senses. Almost. He covered his mouth with the top of his shirt, and tried to stay low.

He groped around the dark room, until he found the staircase. Marissa was on the third floor. It was too familiar. An apartment fire.

Gary scrambled up the steps, each second spelling out failure in his mind. His heart almost pounded through his chest.

"Marissa!" He croaked softly. He came to her door. Heaving his shoulders into the door with all his might, he broke the door open.

Marissa lay on the ground, unconscious. Soot covered her face.

Tears ran down Gary's cheeks. He felt weak, and vulnerable, but he had to be strong. He lifted Marissa up off the floor, and turned around. He stopped. The fire raged on outside the door, and there was no way he'd be able to make it. Marissa stirred in his arms, and Gary's priorities became clear. Marissa first, Gary second.

He spotted a fire escape outside a large window. He gently set Marissa down, and opened the window. He stopped. What about Riley? He heard the dog whimper softly. Gary shook his head. Marissa first, Riley second, Gary last.

Gary carefully opened the window. He scooped Marissa up in his arms, while flashbacks of Jeremiah hit him like a slap in the face. Gary walked down the fire escape, and placed Marissa in the arms of an angry, yet relieved fire fighter. He scrambled back up the steps, the fire fighters shouts holding to no avail.

The smoke had thickened, and Gary had very little time. His legs felt wobbly, and he was about ready to pass out. He grabbed Riley's harness, and tried to pull the dog towards the window. Riley, thinking that Marissa was still in trouble, barked and refused.

Gary pulled with all his might. "Marissa's fine, okay? She'll be okay. I'll be okay." He shoved Riley out onto the fire escape landing, which was luckily, wide enough to hold the both of them.

Gary, lifting with all his strength carried Riley down the steps.

Far from the building, with Marissa okay, and being taken to the hospital, Gary promptly collapsed on the ground.

-----------

Chapter 7

Sometimes I feel the fear of
Uncertainty stinging clear
And I, can't help but ask myself how much
I'll let the fear take the wheel and steer.
It's driven me before, and it seems to have
A faint haunting mass appeal
But lately I, am beginning to find that I,
Should be the one behind the wheel.
Whatever tomorrow brings, I'll be there
With open arms and open eyes
Whatever tomorrow brings I'll be there
I'll be there....
   - Incubus
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Gary's eyelids fluttered, and he groaned. He could tell without looking, that he was in a hospital bed. There was a steady beeping sound, and a gentle whirring, that could only be from medical equipment.

Gary scanned the room, his eyes glazed over. All he could see was a big fuzzy blur. In a few moments, the blur faded, and Gary could see clearly that he was in a hospital bed.

All in a few moments, something in his brain clicked, and the past events came rushing back at him. The fire. Marissa. Oh, God, Marissa. Was she okay?

Gary sat up quickly. He had to find Marissa. He had to be sure she was okay.

Before Gary had the chance to rip out his IV and make a break for it, the door opened. His parents entered quietly.

"Marissa, where's Marissa?" Gary asked hoarsely. His throat felt a little tight.

"Shhh, sweetie, Marissa's fine," Lois assured her son. "She's in the next room."

"You okay, Gar?" Bernie asked, cautiously.

"Yeah, I guess so," he replied softly. "But what happened to Marissa?" At the moment, Gary couldn't think of anything else than the safety of his best friend.

"She inhaled a little smoke, but she'll be fine," Lois said, softly stroking Gary's hair. "So did you, honey."

"You did good, son," Bernie said softly, patting Gary's knee.

Gary nodded. He didn't feel so good. He still had the nagging doubt in his mind that something wasn't right. His stomach tightened, wondering if his folks had lied to him. What if Marissa wasn't okay? Before Gary could voice his doubts, Lois interrupted him.

"Marissa is fine, sweetheart," Lois assured him, as if she read his mind. She kissed her son's forehead and smiled. "And you're fine too."

"Are you sure?" Gary asked. "I want to see her."

"Not yet, Gar," Bernie said. "Later. Right now, you need to rest. You've had a long day."

As much as Gary pleaded, they wouldn't let him go see her. You're too weak right now, they had reasoned. But Gary, like a child, wouldn't give up.

"I've got an idea that would satisfy us all," Lois said, her face brightening.

"What's that?" Bernie asked skeptically. "The only thing that could satisfy him would be having Gary safe in Hickory, under their constant care. And of course, with the occasional plate of gnocchi.

A pretty nurse walked in to check on Gary and bring him a few more pillows. Gary didn't really need them, but the nurse liked to keep an eye on him, for more than just health related reasons.

"How are you feeling, handsome?" the nurse said, throwing him a coy smile.

Gary blushed as he saw a slight smile playing at his mother's lips, and a big ear to ear grin on his father's face.

"Um, I'm doing okay," he said softly.

"You're looking more than okay," she replied, tucking the blankets under his chin. "I say you're looking just fine," she whispered, tracing her fingers down his stomach.

"O-o-okay," Gary stuttered. The nurse winked and left.

"It's all in the genes," Bernie teased.

"Mom, what's that idea you had?" Gary asked.

"I was thinking that we could call Marissa's room and you could talk to her. That way, you'll know she's okay, and I can know you're okay," Lois said. She decided not to mention the fact that the nurse had been hitting on him. It wasn't exactly the best time for teasing anyway.

"That sounds like a good idea," Gary said.

"You want me to go sedate the nurses, son?" Bernie asked, trying to lighten the mood.

Gary smiled slightly. He was glad his dad was around. Ever since he was a kid, his dad had made all his troubles seem a little bit better with his corny jokes, or goofy antics. Not your regular dad, but all the same, a good father. The best Gary could ask for.

"No thanks," Gary said softly.

Bernie squeezed Gary's hand, and smiled. Looking into Gary's eyes, he saw a great warmth in them. A warmth he recognized.

"I love you too, son," he said, and kissed Gary's forehead.

Lois smiled at her two boys. She picked up the phone next to Gary's bed, and dialed Marissa's room.

"Hello," a voice said. A doctor.

"Hello, can I speak to Marissa Clark?" Lois asked. She smiled at Gary.

"Sure, one second," the doctor replied.

"Hello," Marissa said. "Gary?" She too, was more worried about her friend than herself.

"Hi, Marissa," Lois said.

"Oh, Lois, hi. Can I talk to Gary?" Marissa asked, anxiously.

"Sure. He's been asking about you ever since he woke up." Lois handed Gary the phone.

"Thanks Mom," Gary said. "I love you."

"I love you, too, honey," Lois said, her eyes shining with tears.

"Marissa?" Gary asked into the phone.

"Gary? Oh, Gary, I'm so glad you're okay," Marissa said. "I was worried."

"I was worried about you," Gary replied. Just hearing Marissa's voice, was enough reassurance for him to relax, just a little.
-------------------------

Epilogue

It's alright
I'm okay
I think God can explain
I believe I'm the same
I get carried away.
   -????
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Gary checked his watch for the fifth time. He scanned the block, looking for Paul Dylan, a high school basketball coach who would be hit by a car after winning the lottery no less.

In the past week, he had managed to fall back into his normal routine. Gat up, get the paper, read the paper, save the lives. With the help of his parents, and Marissa, he regained his confidence. He knew nothing would ever be the same, and he knew he'd never forget Jeremiah, or what Snow had showed him.

His parents had left earlier that morning. Bernie and Lois had proved to be a big help to Gary. They helped with stories in the paper that he wasn't quite ready to handle yet. After they were certain that Gary was back to normal, they let him take on every story, but still stuck around for guidance. They talked him through some tough times, which were many. It was the longest week of Gary's life. But, as he realized, life goes on, and dwelling on the past would do nothing for the future.

Marissa was another strong support for him. She had offered him a shoulder to cry on, which he used frequently. Though he had learned to forgive himself, forgetting was another thing, and crying was now an everyday activity.

Gary spotted the Paul, walking across the street, a big smile on his face. What Paul didn't see was the huge Jeep Grand Cherokee gunning down the road. It seemed so hopeless. But Gary had at least some of his confidence back.

He sprinted towards Paul, his head down. The only thing he knew was that every second counted. In what seemed like the last possible second, he dived and tackled the man out of harms way, landing in a soft patch of grass. The Jeep sped past.

"Tha-tha-thanks man," Paul said.

Gary stood up, and reached his hand out to Paul. "No problem."

"How did you know?" Paul asked. He took his hand and Gary pulled him to his feet.

"Right place, right time," Gary replied.

"What can I do to repay you? Here, take my lottery ticket. It's the winning one. You have the money." Paul was an incredibly nice guy it seemed.

Gary held up a hand. "No, no thanks. I don't need it."

"But I have to repay you somehow. You saved my life."

Gary thought for a moment. "You know how you can repay me and then some?" Paul shook his head. "You give that money to someone that need it a lot more than you." With that, he walked away.

Paul thought about it for a minute. Then he remembered Randy. He was a kid that used to play for his basketball team, before he developed cancer. Randy was a great kid, really great, but his family was far from rich. They were having trouble paying the hospital bills. They needed it more than he did.

With the idea planted into his head, Paul walked to Randy's house. Dropping the winning lotto ticket on his front porch, he rang the doorbell, and ran away, before anybody could know it was him.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Gary picked up the phone in his loft, and dialed a number he knew by heart. After a few rings someone picked up.

"Hey.. Chuck? Yeah... it's me.... Really?.... And they bought it?... Yeah I've been doing okay... yeah, I'm lying.. it's a long story... How've you been?...Really?... So Hollywood's treating you good?.... Yeah... No way!... That's terrific... Kyle Chandler
and Fisher Stevens in a movie?... Well of course it'll do good... you've got a guy like Kyle Chandler you're bound to succeed.... Well, duh. Kyle's way better than Fisher... That's what you think... Yeah, I miss you too, buddy."

THE END
 

Email the author: coventrys@yahoo.com
 

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