Disclaimer: Nope don't own em

Rating: PG

Summary: What does Amy think of a situation she knows little about?

Setting: After "Destiny"

Authors Note: I must say...I am not pleased with this fic at all...I had it all planned out and it wrote itself, I keep going over and over it but I can't find what I did wrong...I wondered what Amy would of thought seeing Maria after Michael left, and how did it bring back memories for her? It's sort of directed towards Michael.

***

Who are you? Who are you to make this beautiful child cry?

What are you?

What in the world ever possessed you to think that you could do something to make her different towards the world and get away with it?

Those are my questions and I want the answers, only I haven't seen you around so I can't confront you.

She wouldn't want me to anyway.

Oh, I often thought about asking Jim to put out a search for you, since you seemed to have disappeared out of her life.

What good would that do? Besides the satisfaction of possibly being able to smack you upside the head (again) with a newspaper.

I'm beginning to think you broke her.

Changed her.

I'm mad at her, but not like I'm mad at you.

I'm angry too.

Angry at her for not being able to share the secrets she's so scared to tell.

Saddened by her because she now holds the look I had when I was younger, the feelings I felt when he left me.

Every time I looked at her, I used to see him.

I saw him in the way she smiled when she was mischievous and I could see him when she set her jaw when she was angry.

It seems as though he is fading out of her though, out of her facial expressions, out of her attitude, out of her life.

Should I be relieved? Do I want the memories of what I used to have around all the time? Or is she destined to become like me when I went through what I did, sad and angry?

When she came home later on that night (the night that things seemed to of change), I didn't get an explanation of where she had been, she quickly walked up to her room and closed the door quietly.

I don't think she understood that this house is so old, the walls so thin, that I could hear her crying into her pillow.

A piece of me (the motherly side) wanted to go in there and find out the problem, then kill the person that made her cry.

Another side of me (the experienced side) told myself to stay away because I had been there at one point in my life and even at that point, I could only find solace by myself.

So I let my baby girl cry.

She used to have so much control, so much confidence, often at times I wonder who was the adult.

Her eyes used to light up, now they are filled with age. Like she's grown too fast and she wasn't prepared.

I never wanted her to grow up--ever.

I saw the way her eyes lit up when she mentioned you every once in a while and in those eyes I saw myself at that age.

I still wait for the day for when she is to come to me and ask me the questions of love and life. Even though no parent can be prepared for those questions, I've decided I would give her my most honest answer.

She will wonder when will life stop being so difficult? I can only repeat what I know and what I learned. I'll hold her close (maybe stroke her hair as I did when she when she was 7 and actually be a mother instead of a friend) and tell her honestly about what I've learned throughout my life.

I'll tell her that for a long time it had seemed to me that life was about to begin.....

But there was always some obstacle in the way, something to be gotten through first, some unfinished business, time still to be served, a debt to be paid. Then life would begin. At last it dawned on me that these obstacles were my life.

That letting go doesn't mean giving up, it means accepting that some things can't be.

I want her to know that.

So who are you? Why did you have to make her grow up so fast? Her eyes no longer holding youth, but the experience I didn't want her to have.

I believe you really loved her, because my Maria would never let herself become so involved with a guy who really didn't care, but I don't trust you.

Maybe, someday when you are all older and final desicions are made, I'll know.

For now she tries to hide the pain from me, she doesn't know that no matter what she can't hide it.

Because when you become a mother, you get a gift. We get to understand, cry and weep with our children. So maybe I don't have to ask the questions, in a way I know the answers.

Because in more ways then one, we know the truth, not only by the reason, but also by the heart.

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