Disclaimer: Yeah, my foot has to be broken, it hurts too badly to be anything else...oh right, sorry; I don't own the rights to anything Marvel or Fox, I just like to bum off their ideas. It's fun. This is the last chapter, and I rewrote this sucker about four or five times,so I hope ya'll enjoy and please; review and tell me what ya'll think. So far the only thing people have complained about is bad spelling. Is that really all? I can take it! Wait, second thought... Oh well, please enjoy!

I called my parents again. They had landed in Canada a few hours before and were waiting for me to call and tell them where I was. I told them the name of the town and they looked it up. They were four hours away, but with the storm rolling through; it was going to take them about seven to get there. Once I hung up with them, I decided that Logan was right; I should take a nap. So I set the alarm clock by my bed for midnight and went to sleep. I rocked myself and hummed, but the song was broken into parts from my sobbing. I knew that what I was doing was right, but it still hurt.

My alarm was going off before I felt like I had even gotten any sleep. I lay there for a moment, just listening to the rain. That sound would always be synonymous with him in my mind.

I stood from the bed and walked to the refrigerator. I opened the door and looked around in it. I pulled out a Coke and popped it open. When I closed the door, something caught my eye. There was a note tacked to it:

'Thought you might like something else to eat besides a sandwich, I brought you a pizza and put it on the table. I'll be back around two or three. Take care of yourself until I get back and I hope you feel better when you get up.


I took down the note, but instead of throwing it away like the others, I folded it up carefully and stuck it in my back pocket. I needed to keep something from him. I needed to know that it was real. That he cared. I needed something to remind me of what I had felt.

I was jittery but my stomach was growling so I forced myself to eat the pizza that he had bought me. But thinking about it only made me feel sad, and in turn, make me feel even worse.

When I was done eating, I decided to write Logan a long letter. At half past one o'clock that morning, I heard a car pull up and the phone ring. My parents were there. I grabbed my bag and took one last look around the room, making sure that the letter I had written Logan was on his pillow where he could see it, then I left.

My parents hugged and kissed me, then they both cried out of joy from seeing me once again.

"We missed you so much, Jayden," my father said, holding me to him.

"I missed you too, dad," I said, pulling away from their embrace to look at them. "And you too, mom."

She pulled me back and patted my cheek with her hand. "Lets get you back to our hotel, okay?"

"Yeah, alright." We walked to the car and got in. My mother letting me have the front seat. But I felt something tug at me. We couldn't leave yet. "Wait," I said, just as my father was getting ready to pull out.


"Can we stay here for just thirty minutes?"

"Honey, it's nearly two in the morning and pouring out."

"Dad, please, just thirty minutes."


"I have to make sure…I just have to know something. Then we can leave and go to the hotel."

"Okay, thirty minutes."

We sat, none of us talking, until fifteen after two. That's when the truck pulled up. We were parked a few doors down from his room, but I could see him moving in the dark, walking up to the door, unlocking it and walking in. Then I saw the light flick on inside. After a few minutes, I saw the door open back up and Logan stand in the doorway. He stood there, looking out over the parking lot. His usual scowl painted on his face, but with a little more pain along with it.

I placed my hand on the window, instinctively reaching out for him.

I closed my eyes for a moment, but when I opened them; my own vision was shifting. It alternated between my own and Logan's. He couldn't see me, but he knew I was there. Everything was being chopped up. One second I'm in the car with my parents, the next I'm looking out over the parking lot.

I don't know whose emotions are whose.

I don't know which thoughts belong to him or me.

I don't know whose heart is breaking more. And I don't know that there's a difference.

It felt as if everything from him was pouring into me, and everything from me was pouring into him

"Be careful kid," he whispered.

Tears were flowing from my eyes and running down my cheek. He turned to go back inside, but he knew I could still hear him. He knew I was still inside him. He knew that our connection was still there. He took one more look out over the parking lot and shook his head.

"I loved you," we both said at the same time. Then he went back into his room and closed the door.

In that time, I realized that I had found what I had been looking for. An emotion I couldn't describe. It was him. My parents sat there, watching me, my father taking my hand to try to comfort me. He didn't know from what. They didn't know who he was, but that was it. It's that feeling that a stranger to them, knew me deeper than they ever would. That we shared something that they would never be a part of or understand. The idea that someone they had never seen or met could possibly break their daughter's heart so terribly. It was knowing that although they may not have understood or got it, they felt the connection. One so strong between us, that they, not knowing anything about us, could feel it. They didn't know him, but I did, and he knew me, and that was what I had been wanting. They didn't know why I loved him; they just knew that I did.

We waited for a little longer. My father was letting me cry and they were both trying to stop the pain, even if they didn't understand it. Soon I saw the light flick off and the world around me was a wash of broken neon lights. I looked out my window and dried my tears. It had stopped raining. For the first time in months.

"Okay," I said, letting out a deep breath. "We can go now."

"Who was he?" my mother asked carefully as we were pulling out.

I took one final look at the motel. "Everything," I said quietly, "he was everything."

"And that was it?" Dr. Lewis asked.

I wiped at the tears I had shed while telling the story, and then turned around from the window to face him. "And that was it."

"Why didn't you tell him that you were going home yourself? He wanted you to go home and be safe, why did you write him a letter instead?"

"Because I had to explain why I was going home and I knew I couldn't do it any other way."

"Why did you go home?"

"Because of what I'd seen. Because of my vision," I said, going to the chair opposite his and sitting down. "Because of what I knew."

"What did you see?"

"I saw him." My tears still kept coming despite my best effort to keep them at bay. "I saw who he was."

"Who was he?" he asked curiously. I looked at him, my eyes shining with tears. "What did you write in the letter, Jayden?"


By the time you read this, I'll be gone. I talked to my parents, they're letting me come back home. I wanted to tell you myself, but I didn't think I could and I wasn't sure I knew how.

I wanted to thank you for everything. And I mean it. From towing me around for these past few weeks and paying for my half of the motel rooms, to all of the pointless late night talks and all of the advice you've given me. And somewhere in between all of that, I think you save my life a few times, too. So thanks.

I wanted to thank you for all of the nights you slept on those terrible couches and let me have the bed.

Thank you for letting me watch cartoons while I ate my breakfast, even thought you insisted they were 'stupid' (By the way, I caught you smiling a few times, you even laughed once during 'SpongeBob'). You took up for me and protected me, like no one else ever has before, and I want to thank you for that.

I want to thank you for all of the times I woke up with a terrible and painful vision and you helped me. You let me cry. You held me. It's a bit late, but I finally realized that it was you who stopped the pain. When you would say my name, it would go away. You saved me from that as well.

I wanted to thank you for coming back for me. You're the only person who's ever come back. And I want you to know so much what that meant to me, what it still and always will mean to me, but I don't know how to write it down. I don't know how to put it in words. But thank you.

I knew that eventually, I would have to leave. I didn't know if I could ever go back home or not, but I promised you that I would try, so I did. It's not without strings, but I didn't want to let you down. Not after what you've done for me. I never felt part of something. I never felt that anyone understood me. Until you. You were everything that I was inside, but too scared to show. With my family, I've always felt out of place. My thoughts, views, opinions, morels, everything was different from theirs. I thought I was wrong somehow. But then I met you and you believed the same as me. You got it. With you, I didn't have to pretend.

I had a hard time deciding to leave. I was, and still am as I'm writing this, scared that I'll never find it again. When I counted on everything to break, you didn't. I'm scared that I'll never find you again, but I know that what I'm doing is right. For everyone. I made a promise to you that as soon as I found out why I started seeing you, I would leave. So I am.

This morning, I had a vision and I saw you. You were with my mother. She was telling you that she was pregnant and you left. Then I saw the two of you together again, in a bathroom. She gave birth to me in a public bathroom stall and you were there. You held me. When I opened my eyes, the first person I saw was you. My father. There were a lot of other pieces in there that put the whole picture together for me, but that's really all that's important. All this time I've been trying to figure out and understand it, when all I had to do was look in your eyes. It was right there all along.

I wanted to stay with you and that was my first thought. I had finally found someone who understood me; I had found my father. But I couldn't do it because I have a family. I have a home. And so do you. As much as I want you, Marie needs you. I don't know her, but I know she loves you and you both need each other a lot. You need to go home to her. She can help you with Jean. You can take care of her. And maybe every once in a while, you can think of me.

You are sarcastic, and rude, and have the worst temper I've ever seen in my life, and you could use a good haircut, but I'm going to miss you so much. My favorite part of the day was always when you and me became we, because you were where I was happiest. I knew that if I couldn't go back home, it was okay. If I never have anything again, I'm okay. Because you made it all worth it. Thank you.

P.S. The sixth Stooge's name was Curly-Joe. I don't blame you for not remembering him; he was my least favorite.

With all of my heart,


"He was your father?" Dr. Lewis asked.

I let out a deep breath and dried the last of my tears with my sleeve. "Yeah. He is." He handed me a tissue. "Thank you," I said.

"And you believe that's why you saw him in your visions?"

"Babies bond with their mother's within the first fifteen minutes of being born. Logan was the one that held me, not her, and I think that somewhere I knew that. I needed him. I believe that because of that, I found him."

"I thought you said that you biological parents were only together for one night? Your mother telling him that she was pregnant and him being present at the birth doesn't make sense."

"They were only together for one night, but she found him to tell him about me. She thought she could make it right or something and that he would help her. She gave birth to me in a bar outside of the town she lives in. She didn't even know he was there."

"Have you told your parents any of this?"

I shook my head. "No."

"Are you going to?"

I shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe."

There was a buzz that came from the intercom that sat on the desk beside his chair. Then I heard a voice speaking through it. "Dr. Lewis, there's a man coming in. He's not a patient but demanded to see you. I tried to stop him but I couldn't. I'm very sorry."

He pressed a button. "Don't worry about it Mandy, I'll deal with him. Thank you."

I stood from my seat and pulled on my coat. "Looks like you have to deal with the real crazies now, doc," I said with a small laugh. "What should I tell my parents you said?"

"I think you should tell them I said happy Thanksgiving. You can fill in the rest, if you wish."

"Thank you."

"No problem," he said as I was tying on my scarf. "I do want to apologize, though, Miss Rivers."

"For what?"

"Not believing you. That's a remarkable story and I hope that in the weeks to come, the pain will start to go away."

I smiled at him. "Thank you," I said. "And I hope that you and your wife have a good night tonight for her birthday, and you both have a happy Thanksgiving as well.

When I walked into the waiting room, I saw my dad waiting for me. He smiled at me as I walked towards him. "Done already, pumpkin? I've only found ten weasels in the magazine, there's two left."

I smiled and shook my head. "Sorry, didn't mean to disturb your weasel hunting, but mom's going to hang us both if we don't hurry up. She's still at the store shopping for Thanksgiving dinner while we're goofing off. And you said if I came without a fight today, I could have a prize."

He stood from his chair and put his arm around me as we walked out of the office and onto the sidewalk outside. The store was a few blocks away and we had to walk there.

"A prize? I said that?"

"Yes. Honestly dad, you promised," I joked.

"I promised?"

"Yep, and you can't break a promise," I said, resting my head on his shoulder.

"Well, if I promised," he said as we turned a corner together. We walked for a block or two in silence. "I love you sweetheart, you know that, right?" he asked.

"Yeah," I said with a sigh. "I love you, too, daddy."

Without Logan, I was weak. Without him, I was who they wanted me to be. Without him, my heart was broken.

"Jayden, you have mail!" my mother said, pushing open my bedroom door and walking in.

"Who from?" I asked from where I was sitting in my floor. It was a week until Christmas and I was wrapping presents.

"It doesn't say," she said, sitting on my bed. She held up the small, square package and smiled. "Looks like someone has a secret admirer."

I rolled my eyes. "If they admire me, I can understand why they would want to keep it a secret," I said, finishing the wrapping on a picture frame for my grandparents.

"Well open it and see who it's from!" she said enthusiastically, handing me the box.

I took one look at my name written on the address label and my heart felt as if it had gotten stuck in my throat. I knew that handwriting. I looked at a note with that same handwriting on it before going to sleep each night. With shaky hands, I cut open the box. There was small, brightly wrapped package along with an envelope inside. I pulled them both out and examined them before opening either one. The present's too neatly wrapped to have been done by Logan, I thought. He must have had someone else do it for him. I decided to open the letter first.


I ain't good at this sort of stuff, you know that, but I thought you might like it, so I'm gonna' give it a try.

I knew who you were before you told me. That mornin' that you fell asleep with me holdin' you, it felt too familiar. Just you bein' in my arms, your scent, that song you sang, or hummed, or whatever. I talked to that professor I was tellin' you about and he told me that I was right. That song was playin' when you were born and it always reminds me of you. I know I screwed up and yelled at you and all that crap right after that, but truth is kid; I ain't a nice guy. You've got a family, one that can take care of you, and I wanted you to be with them, not me. I know that if you stayed with me any longer, you would figure it out, too. I guess I was right. Look, I don't really like the idea of someone else havin' something that's mine, but I don't know what I'm doin', I don't know how to be what you need. I don't know how to be a father. You might not be happy where you're at, but you're bein' taken care of, and it makes me happy knowin' that.

I may be rude and have a bad temper, but you snore, can't cook, you're one of the worst liars I've ever met and you're the only person who's ever pissed me off for lookin' and actin' just like me. But I'm gonna' miss you too, kid.

Well…Merry Christmas. Actually, I hope you get this before Christmas, Marie said I was cuttin' it short by sendin' it this late. She helped me pick it out; she's good with stuff like that. And she wrapped it, too. She said she wants to meet you one day. I told her that would be up to you.

If you ever want or need anything, you found me once; you can do it again.

Okay, Marie made me put the phone number and address to the school in here, she said it was mean of me to make you guess. I don't think she knows how good you are, darlin'.

Oh, and by the way, Curly-Joe was my least favorite, too.


I smiled and shook my head. I really missed him. I put the letter back into the envelope and picked up my present. I carefully unwrapped it and saw a CD. It was by Jimmy Durante. Confused, I looked at the back for the track listing. Somewhere near the bottom, I saw a song title and started crying and laughing at the same time.

"What is it?" my mother asked.

I stood from the floor, went to my CD player and took out my Christmas CD. Then I opened the one that Logan had bought me and placed it in there instead. I pushed it to track number eleven and stood there with my eyes closed, listening as the hauntingly familiar words and music flooded my room.

'I'll be seeing you
In all the old familiar places
That this heart of mine embraces
All day through.

In that small cafe;
The park across the way;
The children's carousel;
The chestnut trees;
The wishin' well.

I'll be seeing you
In every lovely summer's day;
In every thing that's light and gay.
I'll always think of you that way.

I'll find you
In the morning sun
And when the night is new.
I'll be looking at the moon,
But I'll be seeing you.

I'll be seeing you
In every lovely summer's day;
In every thing that's light and gay.
I'll always think of you that way.

I'll find you
In the morning sun
And when the night is new.
I'll be looking at the moon,
But I'll be seeing you.'

"Isn't that the song you used to hum at night to get you to go to sleep when you were little?" my mom asked as the song ended.

I nodded. "Yeah."

She was quiet for a moment. "Oh, I meant to tell you, we have a guest coming over tonight. They wanted to speak to you."

"What time are they going to be here?"

"Around five or six this afternoon."

I nodded. "Alright, that's fine."

"Well, I'm going to start lunch."

"Okay, I'll be down in a little bit."

Five o'clock came quickly and soon the doorbell was ringing. I heard it from my bedroom and thought it best to go ahead and get the meeting over and done with. I walked downstairs and passed by my mother in the hall.

"Honey, can you go talk to our guest while I get him a drink of water? He's in the living room."

"Yes ma'am," I said, walking down the hall to our formal living room. I saw a man in a pair of dress pants and shirt. His back was to me and he was lightly grazing his fingers over the keys of our piano, allowing it to only make a whisper of a sound. "I think you're the first one to play that thing in about four years," I said.

He turned around and smiled at me. "Sorry, I didn't know you were there."

I cocked my head to the side. "Do I know you?"

He shook his head. "We've never met."

"But I've seen you somewhere before," I said.

He continued to smile. "Maybe."

Just then, my mother came back, passing me where I stood leaning against the doorframe, carrying a glass of water, which she handed to him. "I'm sorry, I should introduce you. This is my daughter Jayden. Jayden, this is Mr. Summers."

"Scott Summers?"

"Yes," he said.

I had seen him before.

"Uh, what…what are you doing here, if you don't mind me asking?"

"Mr. Summers works at a school in New York. Dr. Lewis thinks it would be best if you spent some time away for a while, to get to know people more your age. He thinks it would be healthy for you."

"New York?" I asked, a small smirk on my face and a cocked eyebrow, keeping my eyes on Scott.

"I know it's far away, but I think you'll enjoy it," my mother said.

"The owner, Professor Xavier, would like to offer you a room there. Free to take whenever you want," Scott said.

"Does everyone know about it?" I asked.

"Yes, they all know," Scott answered, keeping his sight locked on me, even though he was wearing red tinted glasses. "As a matter of a fact, it was another one of our teachers who suggested it."

"Teachers?" I asked, genuinely confused.

"Mr. Logan, he teaches our self defense classes. I think the two of you will get along wonderfully," he said, still with a slight smile. "If you chose to go."

The doorbell rang. "Excuse me, let me get that," my mother said, leaving the two of us together in the room.

He walked over to where I was standing. "As much as I distaste the man, he cares a lot about you, and it would really mean a lot to him if you came to stay at the school."

"You don't have to talk me into anything; I made my mind up as soon as you said I had a room there."

"Good," he said. He looked at me a shook his head.

"What?" I asked.

"You look so much like him, it's creepy."

I smiled. "Would you like to stay for dinner?"

He smiled back at me. "Yeah, that would be nice.

Coming back from Canada was hard. I left something behind that I didn't want to let go of. But over time I realized that when we love something, it doesn't go away, it's always with us, we just have to know where to look. I also learned that sometimes, things don't always end the way we think they will. Sometimes, it's not the ending at all; it's actually only just the beginning.

Turn it inside out so I can see
The part of you that's drifting over me
And when I wake you're, you're never there
But when I sleep you're, you're everywhere
You're everywhere

Just tell me how I got this far
Just tell me why you're here and who you are
'Cause every time I look
You're never there
And every time I sleep
You're always there

'Cause you're everywhere to me
And when I close my eyes it's you I see
You're everything I know
That makes me believe
I'm not alone
I'm not alone

I recognize the way you make me feel
It's hard to think that
You might not be real
I sense it now, the water's getting deep
I try to wash the pain away from me
Away from me

'Cause you're everywhere to me
And when I close my eyes it's you I see
You're everything I know
That makes me believe
I'm not alone
I'm not alone

I am not alone
Whoa, oh, oooh, oh

And when I touch your hand
It's then I understand
The beauty that's within
It's now that we begin
You always light my way
I hope there never comes a day
No matter where I go
I always feel you so

'Cause you're everywhere to me
And when I close my eyes it's you I see
You're everything I know
That makes me believe
I'm not alone
'Cause you're everywhere to me
And when I catch my breath
It's you I breathe
You're everything I know
That makes me believe
I'm not alone

You're in everyone I see
So tell me
Do you see me?

The end.