I should have known. I'll never fit in, even among my own kind. Logan might have died, and it would have been my fault. I should have thrown myself off the roof of the school, but Logan is now in my head, so I took off. I can see the headlights of the subway, and I know it is all in the timing. If I go to soon, the conductor will have time to stop the train, but if I take to long, I'll be dragged along with it. Logan's face appears in my brain, and I hold on to it, forcing him to look the way he did in the truck, before we met Storm and Cyclops and all the other mutants. Before I nearly killed him. I need to remember him that way. The way he looked when he might have grown to love me, not hate me. And the train is here. Time to go.

Bye Logan. Love you.