Disclaimer: I do not own "Girl Meets World," or any of its characters. I just like 'em. I like 'em a lot.

Maya didn't know how she'd gotten herself into this situation. She knew nothing good ever came of actually doing her homework; she should have trusted her first instinct when Mr. Matthews started passing out those stupid red envelopes. She should have balled it up and hooked a three-point shot straight into the wastebasket by the door, and never gave it a second thought. Why hadn't she done that? Why, instead, had she gone home and spent two excruciating hours writing down a carefully-worded note to the man whose face she could barely call to mind?

Of course, she'd never expected him to write back, let alone show up at the bakery two days later.

The first day, after he'd cleared away the pastry from his face and turned on that smile that her mother had once told her could charm the sun from the sky, he'd tried to talk to her, but she wouldn't listen. She couldn't. She was so angry, and more than anything she wanted to not be angry anymore, but she didn't know how. She didn't know how looking into the face of a man who'd walked out on her and her mother nine years earlier was supposed to make her feel anything but anger, and she'd reacted accordingly. Then she'd taken a page out of his book: She'd walked away.

It wasn't until after her next History class, when she read her letter out loud and recounted her run-in with her father, that Mr. Matthews made her understand. Made her understand that in order to forgive, you had to have all of the facts, and she did not have all the facts. But it was too late now – Kermit was gone, and for all she knew it would be another nine years before she saw him again.

After the bell rang and his students filed out, Cory looked around to make sure he was alone and took his phone out of his jacket pocket. He hit "1" on the speed dial and listened as it rang twice before a familiar voice greeted him.

"Hey," he replied in a serious voice, "tell me you're not a million miles away right now."

"I just got over the bridge; I'm due in Chicago in two days," Shawn told him, his voice questioning at his best friend's tone. "Only about half an hour from the city. Why, what's up?"

Cory scratched the back of his head, "There's a chance I may have taken one of my lessons too far, and…" He paused, then sighed, "I think Maya could really use you around right now, buddy."

There was silence on the other end, and then the tell-tale sound of tires squealing in a u-turn. "I'm on my way," was the only reply, and then the line went dead and Cory put his phone back in his pocket and began packing up his things.

Maya sat across from the man who made up half of her DNA, studying his dark blue eyes, his long hair, his scruffy beard. She was listening with a blank expression as he went on about how he wasn't the man he needed to be, back then, but now he was. Now he was the man he needed to be, but he was that man for another family, in another city, in another life. But it was all him – he made that clear to her. He was to blame for all of his decisions – for missing out on nine years of her life, and being the cause of all the hopelessness and uncertainty in her life – and it had nothing to do with her.

Then he started talking about his new life. His better life. Maya listened, her mind racing with all of this new information, but for some reason one part of his speech stuck on in her mind. "You got a job?" She questioned, to which he nodded, smiling proudly. "Your job was to stay," she said, but there was no satisfaction to be felt when she watched his face fall. "Look, thank you for telling me your side," she swallowed and looked down. "My teacher thinks that if I forgive you, it'll bring me peace and he's usually right about these things, but…I don't see how he's right about this one, and I can't. Your job was to stay," she repeated for emphasis, eyes drilling into his, willing him to understand.

"You don't think I had it in me to allow my father to grow?" She took a deep breath, trying to calm her wavering voice, but she was shaking too hard to pull it off. "I'm happy I wrote to you, and heard what you had to say, and it makes me feel better, knowing I had nothing to do with you doing what you did. I always thought that this was my fault somehow, but…it's not." She smiled as it struck her that this statement was true – that she was blameless, for the first time in her life. "I didn't do anything." She took in another breath and stood, stepping around her chair and toward the bakery door.

"I'm sorry," her father called to her, stopping her in her tracks, "I wasn't there. You turned out great."

Shawn stopped at the landing of the steps that would lead him down to the small courtyard in front of the bakery, halted by the voices that floated up to him. Directly below, he could see Maya standing up from one of the table, tears in her eyes, and he knew instantly that the man sitting with her was her father. They had the same eyes, the same ears, the same way of hunching their shoulders, like they were trying to shield themselves against the cruelty of the world. He saw Maya crying and he wanted to run down those steps, grab the man by the shirt, and shake him for saying whatever he'd said to upset her, but he stayed still. Maya was standing now, looking down at her shoes, but there was a soft smile pulling on the corners of her lips as the man in front of her apologized.

"Yeah," Shawn heard her say, "I did. I turned out great because I have an amazing mother, who works double shifts to keep the lights on in our apartment. I turned out great because I have an amazing best friend, with an amazing family that refuses to give up on me, no matter how much trouble I get myself into. And I turned out great because…" She stopped, smile growing even as she sniffed back tears, "Because I have a good, strong man in my life that I can look up to. A man who tells me I should dress differently, and wants to check my homework, and tells me my drawings are the most amazing things he's ever seen, and treats me and my mother like we're the center of the universe."

Shawn groped for the staircase railing and held on tight, feeling a sudden tightness in his chest and weakness in his knees. He couldn't breathe, which should have been terrifying, but somehow it was the best thing he'd ever felt in his life.

"You are my father," Maya continued, looking at the man across the table, "and you always will be, but this guy, he's a dad." She lifted her head then, sniffled, and nodded, "I've been angry for so long; I'm not angry anymore." She gave him a small wave, "Thank you for coming. I hope you get home safe." Then she turned on her heel and went back into the bakery, and Shawn was left to watch the man – Kermit – as he pushed himself up from the table and swiped at a few stray tears that had collected under his eyes. He started up the steps and mumbled a quick "excuse me" to Shawn as he brushed past, oblivious to the fact that this was the man Maya had been referring to, and Shawn watched as he disappeared into the crowd of people on the busy street above.

He took a few deep breaths, trying to adjust to the fullness he felt, and made his way down to the bakery, where he found Maya sobbing in his best friend's arms. Cory saw him come in, caught his eye over the girl's head, and gingerly turned her away so she was suddenly in Shawn's outstretched arms.

"Shawn?" She said between great, gulping sobs. "What are you doing here?"

"Shh, shh," he made soothing noises as he ran his hand over her hair and squeezed her tight against his chest. "I'm here – that's all that matters. Hey, everything is okay." He felt Katy's hand fall on his shoulder, and then she was wrapping her arms around him and Maya, and for the first time Shawn felt that he'd finally made a family for himself.

Ten minutes later, after all the tears had been spent and a few carefully placed jokes had been cracked, the group settled around a table with an assortment of pastries and drinks. Maya had made sure to sit between her mother and Shawn, because she wasn't ready for either of them to be far from her just yet. "I thought you were supposed to be on your way to Chicago," she said around a mouthful of bearclaw.

"Eh," Shawn waved a dismissive hand, "I'll call my boss later tonight; he's got a guy in Wisconsin who can get there in just a few hours. In fact," he looked down, tapping his fingers against his mug of coffee and jiggling his leg nervously under the table. Maya could feel it, and looked at him curiously. "I think I'm going to ask him if I can just take local jobs for a little while – you know, just focus on the New England region."

"What for?" Katy asked, helping herself to a forkful of his cheesecake.

Shawn looked back up, and everyone was staring at him expectantly. As uncomfortable as it made him, he didn't regret the suggestion. "It was always easy for me to travel, and not have a real home, because I didn't have anyone to come home to." He stretched out an arm and slung it over Maya's shoulders, pulling her close to his side and smiling down at her, then at her mother, "Now, I finally feel like I've got something to come home to, and that's an opportunity I just can't pass up."