November 30th, 2002
1:34 A.M.

"FUCK! FUCK! DAMN IT!!!" Christina bellowed at the top of her lungs as she swung her baseball bat at various things around her apartment, sobbing even more hysterically as she screamed furiously. She could hear several dishes breaking and she could have hardly cared less, especially when she shattered the rest of the window that her monster had destroyed. She would have to pay for all of the damage later but, for now, she didn't really care; she just wanted to get her rage and grief out. She had just lost her mother, after all, and all she wanted was to die. Either that or destroy everything she owned.

"SON OF A FUCKING BITCH!" she shrieked as she finally grew exhausted and flung the bat to the floor, completely out of breath as she collapsed to the floor; her chest was heaving as she continued to cry uncontrollably, hugging her knees to her chest and trembling all over.

She couldn't believe what she was going through at the moment, as it was something she still wasn't able to understand. Why the fuck had the Green Goblin chosen to kill her own damn mother? Why couldn't he just kill her?!

It should've been me... she thought. Not her....

"There's more stuff around here you can break..." Peter muttered weakly from the couch he was sitting on, subtly encouraging Christina to get her fury out.

"What am I gonna do...?" Christina whimpered in a broken tone, her voice cracking. "She's gone... And I didn't even know... I wasn't able to do anything..."

"That isn't your fault," Peter said as he looked over at the blonde with a sad expression in his eyes.

"That doesn't change the fact that she's fucking dead, Peter!" Christina snapped at him, tears covering her face and blurring her vision. "I should have realized something was wrong when she wouldn't answer the phone. I should have gone over to her house to see what was wrong..."

"Yeah, but then you would have found her like that," Peter pointed out. "You didn't deserve to find her in that state, Chris. I'm so sorry this happened to you..."

Christina didn't have the energy to argue with Peter and she just looked down, unable to move from where she was sitting on the floor. "What's the point...?" she mumbled, sighing shakily. "It shouldn't have been Mom... I-It should've been me...."

Peter instantly shook his head and got up from the sofa, briskly walking over to Christina and sitting down next to her. "No, no..." he murmured, putting his arms around her and holding her close. "Don't say that. You're starting to sound like me when I lost Uncle Ben. Please don't blame yourself. If you do, you'll send yourself into a frenzy and that's not good for you."

"What else am I supposed to do...?" Christina replied as she looked up at Peter, feeling safer in his embrace. "I want to kill whoever the fuck did this to her... She didn't deserve what he did to her... He needs to pay..."

"I'm sure he already paid for killing Margaret," Peter said confidently, masking the satisfaction he felt for bringing the Green Goblin to justice... despite not making a single move to kill him. The only thing he had done was beat the absolute shit out of him before he surrendered and removed his mask. However, he did feel slight guilt for what eventually happened to him... and it was all Norman Osborn's doing.

Christina glanced back down and then perked back up, more tears falling down her face. "M.J. told me Harry called her... his father died, too," she informed Peter.

"I know," Peter said, holding back the tears since he felt terrible for both of his best friends. "She told me when you were being questioned."

He knew he was lying to Christina's face but that was the only thing he could do so as to not reveal his real identity.

"I bet that motherfucker killed Norman, too..." the blonde mumbled under her breath, her hands clenching into fists. "If I can't get my hands on him... then I just hope he's already dead...."

"Me too..." Peter whispered. "But we can't think like that, okay?"

"What should I do then...?" the blonde asked as she glanced back up at Peter.

"Well... you don't turn violent, first of all, Chris," he said as he looked back at her. "And you cannot give up. I know you're going through something absolutely horrible, but you shouldn't give up. You need... I want you to fight the pain. It's going to take a while depending on the pace you go and the steps you take to recover... but you will eventually be okay. Everything is going to be okay. And I'm going to help you every step of the way. Harry, Mary Jane, Aunt May... they and I will help you. We will all help you."

A few more tears streamed down Christina's face but not from sadness, but gratitude due to the fact that she didn't feel lonely. But a thought hit her, which frightened her greatly. "What if... What if you grow tired of trying to help me...?" she whispered faintly. "What if I end up being a lost cause... and you get annoyed and done with helping me...?"

Peter simply looked back at Christina with a determined expression in his eyes, fighting back tears of his own. "I would never... ever grow tired of helping you, Christina," he said. "You could never annoy me..."

Christina stared into Peter's eyes in order to confirm that he was telling the complete and honest truth. Once she assured herself that the man sitting next to her was someone who would never lie about something like that, she broke and fully leaned into his embrace, crying more softly now. She put her own arms around him and didn't want to ever let go, fearing that she would be alone forever if she did; she rested her forehead against his neck as she hugged him desperately.

Peter didn't hesitate to hug back just as tightly, a few tears falling down his face now as he rested his head on top of Christina's. He rubbed her back gently as he kept whispering to her about how everything would turn out alright in the future.

Maybe not tomorrow, maybe not next week, maybe not even a year from now... but one day, Peter knew that Christina Johnson would completely recover from the grief that had been brought unto her.

_____

Three Days Later
December 3rd, 2002

Christina sat in the passenger's seat of Mary Jane's car, her head resting against the icy cold window and not caring that the engine was turned off; this allowed the freezing winter air to come into the car and the blonde didn't give a shit.

She wanted nothing more than to cry her eyes out like she had been throughout the last three days, but no tears were able to show up anymore. It was like she had been completely drained of all emotion and she felt numb from head to toe, her breathing uneven as she stared out the windshield.

Her old house was in view and it already seemed to look dilapidated, despite it being less than a week since the crime scene had been cleared out. Christina was absolutely not ready to do whatever she was about to do, and that led her to squeezing her eyes shut in case more tears decided to arrive.

"Do you want me to go inside with you?" Mary Jane asked the blonde tentatively, glancing over at her with a frown on her face.

Christina opened her eyes again and didn't even look at the redhead, but she nodded ever so slightly. "I guess..." she mumbled in a croak.

After ten long seconds of sitting still following those words, Christina finally raised her hand up and gently pulled open the passenger door. Stepping out into the unbelievably chilly air (which she was minorly protected by with the heavy black coat she wore), she shut the door and crossed her arms to shield herself just a little more. Walking through the light layer of snow that had fallen the night before in Queens, she only stared at the front door of her old home with a resolute expression in her blue eyes.

Christina shivered just a little from a particularly freezing gust of wind that hit her, but she chose to ignore that as she carefully climbed the front steps and made it to the porch. She looked behind her to make sure that Mary Jane was following her and, once she saw that she was, the blonde turned back to face the front door. She then extended her right hand out and was about to grasp the doorknob; but she suddenly froze in place and felt her heart plummet.

She glanced down and saw her hand trembling terribly, which made her breathing quicken and she closed her eyes extremely tightly. She clenched her fist in order to stop the shaking and, although it worked and she barely avoided another episode, that didn't stop her anxiety from getting sky high.

"Hey, you okay?" M.J. gently asked her, coming towards her with concern etched into her face.

"Yeah," Christina said quicker than she normally would, looking towards the redhead. "Yeah, I'm alright..."

Mary Jane gave the blonde a skeptical stare and had her left eyebrow raised for a long moment. "You sure?" she pressed onward. "I can go in and get whatever you need for you."

"No," Christina cut her off, taking a deep but quivering breath. "I want to do it...."

"Okay," the redhead mumbled timidly, taking a step back to give her more space.

Christina then grabbed the golden doorknob and swung the door open, revealing the front rooms of the house to be in the same condition it was the night her mother died. Although she wasn't aware of what had exactly taken place, she was able to piece together each event that had happened, from the broken lightbulb in the downstairs bathroom to the specks of dried blood on the floor from where Margaret had her head busted open on the bathroom doorway. The young woman grimaced at the sight of each part of the now abandoned crime scene she saw and she eventually looked away.

She walked over to the sofa and caressed the quilts laid out on the back of it just as Margaret always did; Christina felt her eyes welling up with tears again and she sniffed, but she managed to hold them back this time. She let out a shaky breath as she suppressed a sob of despair, her fingernails digging into her palms again and nearly reopening the fresh scars from a few nights before.

"Can you stay down here while I go upstairs?" Christina asked Mary Jane in a somewhat monotone voice, looking over at her.

"Of course," M.J. said with a sad little smile on her face. "Take all the time that you need. Just remember that the burial is in two hours."

The blonde woman nodded her head ever so lightly as she sighed softly. "Yeah, I know..." she whispered. "Just give me ten minutes."

Mary Jane's head simply bobbed up and down since she didn't really need to give an answer, as Christina already knew it. She sat down on the couch as her friend quietly and slowly walked up the stairs, making sure her long black funeral dress didn't get caught under her boots.

Christina finally made it to the second floor landing after fifteen seconds of climbing the steep stairs. She stared all around and noticed that it hadn't changed one bit since she had last visited in early November. The hallway still had the same pictures on the wall, her room looked as though it was untouched (she didn't bother to go in there) and – once she reached it – Margaret's room, although slightly different, was mostly the same. The smallest smile touched her lips upon seeing the room, as she could feel the closest thing to her mother's presence in here.

She walked around the bedroom as she felt a warm feeling in her heart; for the first time since her mother's death, the memories she was going through in that moment were good ones and they made her smile a little more. Tears didn't sting her eyes for once and she felt somewhat happy again, even though it wouldn't last for very long.

The blonde brushed her fingers along the many vinyl records that Margaret had collected over the years, and even looked at the record player that hadn't been used in a couple of years. This made her frown a little bit again as she realized that it may never be played again unless she came back to get it another day, which she most likely would.

After a minute or two, Christina then went towards Margaret's walk-in closet and turned on the light. She examined the clothes that were still dangling from their hangers, which made her reach out and grasp a few of the shirts. They still contained her mother's scent, which often reminded her of the comforting hugs they would share. A single tear managed to force itself to trickle down her right cheek and she quickly wiped it away so she wouldn't cry anymore, fighting through the pain.

Not wanting to deal with more pain, she left the closet and walked over to a chest of drawers on the other side of the room. On top of it, she caught a glimpse of a few pictures from the past such as one of her and Margaret taking a picture together during a movie night around a year ago. But a specific one caught her eye and she picked it up to look at it more carefully.

The photo frame contained an image of a nine-year-old Christina and a forty-four year old Margaret just after the young girl had won a soccer game in elementary school. Her mother had her left arm around her shoulders and was smiling down at her while the child triumphantly held up a trophy with a proud grin written all over her face. The now almost twenty-year-old woman smiled sadly at the photo, deciding that she would bring it back to her apartment with her following her mother's burial.

Christina then looked to her left and saw something else on her mother's old nightstand. After walking over to it and brushing her fingers against the smooth wooden dresser, she carefully grabbed the object she saw and turned it over in her hands.

It was a silver watch that had belonged to Margaret and Christina had always seen her wearing it in the past. It shined in the small ray of sunlight that peeked through the satin curtains and it still looked as though it were brand new, even though her mother had bought it before she was even born. She could see the hands on the small clock ticking away as she slipped it around her left wrist.

If she can't be here physically, may as well have a part of her with me, she thought to herself.

After she made sure the watch fit around her wrist, she grabbed the picture of her and her mother and walked out of the bedroom with a solemn look in her eyes.

_____

Two Hours Later

Christina was tuned out and didn't really hear the speaker saying the mandatory words as she was currently staring at the casket that Margaret was lying in. The cold wind blew around and she was lucky that she had put her hair up today so it wouldn't get messed up, but she was still freezing despite it not mattering too much to her. Peter was sitting directly to her right and she was gently holding his hand as her breathing became much more even than it was a few hours prior.

Harry wasn't there with any of them as he was currently attending his father's funeral not too far away. He had, however, stopped by to hug Christina and offer his condolences despite also grieving. The blonde had appreciated this but allowed him to go mourn his own deceased parent, since she knew that was more important to him which she understood. She just hoped he would come back later, however, as she wanted to talk about the grief they were both struggling with.

"Today, we grant Margaret eternal rest..." the speaker said in a somber tone, which made Christina look down at her lap so she could avoid the stares she was getting from sympathetic people she didn't know.

After several minutes of the speaker talking about how great of a person Margaret was, he finally finished and everyone proceeded to stand and talk to Christina for a few seconds, mostly saying stuff like "I'm sorry for your loss" or "Your mother's in a better place now." But none of it managed to help the blonde's case any more than it was helped in the first place.

Christina couldn't bring herself to stand up, not even after Peter told her that he was going to talk to Harry for a moment. She just continued to stare at the casket now being lowered to the ground with a blank expression on her face. She didn't really know what to think at all as none of this felt real to her. It all seemed like a horrific nightmare; only, whenever she would pinch herself to make sure it was a dream, she would feel a sting. That always reminded her that this was fucking real.

But the denial phase of the grieving process was over, as she had been forced to accept that her mother was really dead and that she wasn't coming back. Just thinking that made the jagged hole in her already pained heart grow ten times wider and more agonizing. Her eyes fell shut as her hands began to shake again, and she took deep breaths to prevent another panic attack from taking place. They had been more common since Margaret died and they would always be terrible to go through. It seemed as though either she could stop it or Peter comforting her would bring them to an end.

After what felt like an absolute eternity of being the only one sitting down, she finally stood up and walked over to where the casket was almost completely lowered into the dug up ground. She gently allowed the dark crimson rose to slip from her fingers and fall onto where her mother would be buried forever, a single tear falling down her face again.

"Christina...?" came a vaguely familiar voice from behind her.

Christina raised her head up and her eyebrows scrunched together out of slight confusion as she slowly turned around, not knowing who to expect standing behind her. But, as she faced the person, her puzzlement transformed to absolute surprise for a split second as her eyes widened. As she processed the sight, however, she slowly grew incredibly frustrated and furious as her hands balled up into fists and she was soon staring daggers at whoever was standing there.

"What the hell are you doing here?" she asked bitterly, not taking her eyes off of the person.

An older man around the age of fifty-two was standing around three feet away from her. He towered over her, being exactly six feet tall, and he had grayish-brown hair that went with the light stubble on his chin. He was dressed in a formal gray suit for the occasion as he stared down at the much shorter woman with a generous look in his blue eyes that matched hers. He knew that Christina wasn't happy to see him whatsoever but he had a bit of hope in his heart.

"That's not how I expected you to greet me... but hi, Christina," Michael Johnson mumbled as he looked at his now adult daughter.

"I'm not saying hi to you," the blonde snapped in a rageful voice, narrowing her eyes at the man she no longer saw as a father. "Tell me what the fuck you're doing here."

"Look... I owe you an explanation," Michael began with a saddened expression written all over his face.

"You don't owe me anything, Michael!" Christina said angrily, beginning to shake from head to toe as she placed her hands on her hips. "You have no right to be here after you left us like you did!"

"I know, and I'm sorry for leaving you –"

"No, you're fucking not!" Christina yelled, a look of disbelief in her eyes. "You never called me or wrote me a damn letter explaining everything. You never even visited us. And then you show up out of the blue when Mom dies?! Very disrespectful, if you ask me!"

"I'm going to explain something, Chris," Michael said, cutting her off. "I do owe you this explanation because there's a whole lot I haven't really told you. That's why I'm here. Not only to pay my respects to Margaret but to explain everything that's happened since I left... and before I left."

Christina's eyebrows raised as she tilted her head out of absolute confusion. "What do you mean before you left...?" she asked hesitantly.

Michael took a deep breath, pondering over whether or not this was a good idea but, after a few seconds, he looked over his shoulder. "Allyson?!" he called out in a trembling voice.

Christina's confusion changed to utter outrage as she took a step back, absolutely flabbergasted at that moment. "You brought your whore of a wife with you?!" she exclaimed as her eyes filled with hot tears of fury.

"Don't call her that," Michael said irritatedly. "She is your stepmom, after all."

"She's nothing to me and you know that!" Christina said.

"I may as well be something to you now, Christina," came a female voice from behind Michael.

Allyson Johnson was a forty-five year old woman with long black hair that nearly reached her waist and she seemed to contain a tough but competent attitude. Despite having done some questionable things in the past – such as having an affair with Michael – she was still a somewhat kind woman but that ultimately didn't matter, since Christina despised her.

"And may I ask what the fuck you're doing here?" Christina snarled at the woman that was slightly taller than her.

"Trust me, Christina, I didn't want to come here as I thought it would be absolutely ridiculous," Allyson assured the young woman truthfully. "But Michael made me come here because we need to tell you something."

"Tell me what?" Christina scoffed as she crossed her arms. "This better be good."

Allyson took a slightly deep breath and stepped off to the side, which bewildered Christina at first.

When the blonde caught sight of what was behind the older woman, however, she was utterly befuddled at what she was seeing. But, once she finally processed it, she gasped ever so softly as several tears stung her eyes, pure shock hitting her like a brick.

A young girl of ten years was standing close to Allyson and was looking at Christina with a shy expression in her brown eyes. She had long and wavy brown hair that reached her waist and she seemed to be an inch or two shorter than the blonde. She had a hearing aid around her left ear (she was born almost completely deaf in that ear) and her chocolate brown eyes were wide and were filled with pure innocence that Christina only dreamed of getting back.

"Hello..." the little girl said timidly, smiling softly up at the blonde.

"U-Um... hi," Christina replied in a trembling voice before looking back up at Michael and Allyson. "I-I-I don't understand..."

"Christina... this is Sidney..." Michael said gently, placing a protective hand on the little girl's shoulder. "Your little sister..."

A few tears of surprise and slight happiness fell down her face as Christina let out a disbelieving chuckle, looking back down at the little girl. "My... my sister...?" she asked to make sure, her voice cracking.

Michael nodded hesitantly.

Christina took a tentative step closer to the young girl and knelt down just a little, taking a good long look at her and examining her. She noticed that, although she did look a little different, they did share a bit of resemblance when it came to their facial structure. And, once she had a glance at the shape of the girl's eyes, she confirmed to herself that Michael was telling the truth.

"Can I give you a hug, Sidney...?" she asked shyly.

Sidney smiled a little bit and nodded, which made Christina bring her into a very gentle hug, holding her as though she would break. The blonde woman grinned as more tears trailed down her cheeks and she even chuckled happily, making the hug slightly tighter, which Sidney returned without hesitation. She only knew this little girl for less than a minute and she was already amazing in Christina's eyes.

Sidney, although beyond confused and not really knowing who this woman was all too well, seemed comforted in the fact that her now acknowledged older sister was happy to meet her. She had never known about her until the night before when she had found out her mother had passed away, which she felt the need to bring up.

"I'm very sorry about your mother, Christina," she said sheepishly, afraid of making the woman angry.

"It's okay," Christina mumbled as she pulled away from the hug, looking deep into her little sister's eyes. "You don't have to be sorry, kiddo." A realization then hit her as she looked up at Michael and Allyson, slowly standing up again, her eyes filled with disorientation as her eyes widened. "When was she born...?" she asked them tensely.

"1992..." Allyson said quietly, starting to feel ashamed of saying this to the grieving young woman.

Christina's heart dropped as she let out a breath of shock and rage, her hands clenching into fists again as she stepped away from Sidney and towards the people that were her parents. "You mean to tell me you had her three years before Michael left me and Mom...? And he never even bothered to tell me...?"

"I wanted to tell you, I really did," Allyson said, looking remorseful. "Michael wouldn't let me tell you, though."

Christina stared daggers at Michael as she advanced towards him. "And why is that, exactly?" she asked him, absolutely outraged.

"We wanted to raise Sidney without the knowledge that I had another family prior to her," Michael began, also growing really annoyed. "I was eventually going to tell her about you, just not this soon."

"BULLSHIT!" Christina screamed, forcefully shoving Michael back and accidentally startling Sidney. "You have her three fucking years before you leave Mom and I and you never even bothered to bring up the fact that she was already a toddler and that I had a sister?! You hide the fact that I have had a sister for TEN YEARS?!"

"We were going to tell you, Christina –"

"NO, YOU WEREN'T!" Christina bellowed, unknowingly attracting the attention of the funeral attendees, and she got right up in Michael's face. "So, not only do you run off with this... this bitch, but you get her pregnant behind my mother's back when she loved you and gave you everything? That is not something a father would do, and I don't fucking claim you!"

Michael then got up in Christina's face and became absolutely furious. "You see, Christina, that is one of the reasons I left you two!" he shouted at her.

"Michael..." Allyson tried to intervene, not wanting him to go too far.

"What?" Christina said, spit flying out of her mouth.

"Not only did I fall out of love with your mother, but you... you were an absolute fucking brat that I couldn't stand! You always wanted my damn attention when I wanted to be alone, and so did Margaret! You always bothered the shit out of me when I didn't want to be distracted! I wish I never married that bitch to begin with and I especially wish I didn't have you..."

Christina just stood there, frozen in place as her eyes were wide with complete pain and sadness at those words. She had no idea what she had ever done to Michael to deserve him leaving her and Margaret's lives but, now that she had the full truth, she not only felt betrayed, but incredibly insecure.

"You know what...?" she muttered. "Fuck you. You need to leave and never come back into my life or that whore. Only Sidney. She's the only family I claim anymore. You can rot in hell for all I freaking care." And she turned to walk away.

A powerful grip on her arm made her spin back around and she struggled to free herself from Michael's grip.

"Don't you fucking walk away from me!" Michael yelled at her angrily.

"Hey, you need to leave!" came a voice from Christina's right as Peter helped free her from Michael's tight grasp on her right arm. "You have no right to be here!"

Michael was utterly confused as he stared at the younger man that was coming to Christina's defense. "I'm sorry, who are you?"

"Peter Parker," he replied bitterly. "Remember me? I'm a very close friend of Christina's who has been there for her since you left her seven years ago. Oh, by the way, I'm still fucking pissed at you for that. You need to leave, right now."

Michael finally understood as he chuckled lightly. "Peter Parker, huh?" he mumbled under his breath. "The boy that constantly came to our house and interrupted the calm silence."

"I'm her friend," Peter responded furiously, gritting his teeth. "I was allowed to come over because I cared about her and I still care. You, however, are not allowed to be here whatsoever. You need to get out of here or I'll have the police called."

"Pete, I can handle this," Christina tried to cut in, but Peter wouldn't let that happen.

Michael simply scoffed. "I don't think I was talking to you before you butted in, Parker," he said. "Besides, I doubt you actually cared about Christina here. You probably only pity her and just want her attention. Well, look somewhere else, son, because you can do a lot better than whatever the hell that fucking bitch is."

Peter suddenly lunged at Michael fiercely as he yelled out madly, his fists flying at the older man. Christina was quicker, however, as she made a fast move to encircle her arms around Peter's and began to hold him back, shouting at him to calm down.

"PETER, STOP!" she screamed desperately. "PLEASE STOP! DON'T GET YOURSELF HURT!"

Peter slowly began to calm down from the sound of Christina's voice but he was still outraged at the words Michael had said about the woman he had cared about since he first met her. "LEAVE!" he bellowed, his breathing ragged and heavy from all of the pure rage he felt. "GET THE FUCK OUT OF HERE! If you lay another hand on Christina ever again, it won't end well for you!"

Sidney was staring at all of the pandemonium that had broken out in front of her, and she started to cry. Allyson was quick to wrap her up in her arms and she began to walk her away from the chaos and comfort her. "Michael, let's leave!" she shouted at him angrily before looking towards Christina and Peter with an apologetic look in her eyes. "I'm sorry, you two," she mumbled.

"Just leave!" Christina cried out.

After Michael recovered from the shock of Peter nearly beating the shit out of him, he went over to his wife and youngest daughter and left the cemetery.

Christina slowly let go of Peter as she processed what the hell had just happened, staring after the three people that had just left. Her eyes were wide as she was left floored by the pandemonium that had taken place.

"Are you okay?" Peter asked her in a shaky voice.

"I'm fine," Christina said, her tone still sounding shocked as she walked away and back towards where her mother was now being buried.

Peter stared after her with sadness in his eyes because he felt absolutely horrible for what she had just gone through. He wanted nothing more than to walk back over to her and hug her and make her feel safe but he had the feeling that she didn't want to be bothered.

So, instead, he decided to walk away from the funeral so he could visit a specific gravestone.

Meanwhile, Christina went back to sitting down in the chair that she had been sitting in prior to what had just occurred. And she was now staring at the gravestone on the ground five feet away from her, more tears trailing down her face as her expression went back to being blank and emotionless.

As she read the words etched into the tombstone, Christina was completely unaware of just how far her depression would take her over time. However, she did have slight hope that, one day in the future, everything would somehow manage to fix itself and get better.

MARGARET CATHERINE JOHNSON
DEC. 24, 1948 — NOV. 28, 2002
Loving Daughter, Sister, and Mother

END OF PART ONE.

A/N: i've done it... after three years of writer's block, loss of motivation, and depression, we have FINALLY reached the end of Part One!

SO, several questions!

what are your overall thoughts of part one?

do you like christina as a character? is she a better love interest than mary jane...?

favorite christina moment?

favorite peter moment?

favorite scene overall?

scene that surprised you the most?

predictions for part two?

hopes for part two?

i'm excited to finally say this but... be looking forward to Part Two of "Something Greater Than Us!"

-denbroughswife