A/N: The song used for this fic was actually translated from a french song called "Si seulement je pouvais lui manquer" (If Only He Could Miss Me) by a singer called Calogero. And so, I own absolutely nothing! This story is a bit different from what we are used to see here. Hope you like it nonetheless.

Disclaimer: I own nothin' except for the rough translation of the song.

There were things in life he had never really understood. He remembered, when he was four years old, not understanding why his baby sister cried all the time. Then, at six, he remembered not understanding why he needed to change his name. His name was Kyle. What was wrong with it? Why did he need to answer to the name Russ now? Many questions, many confusion over the years were answered. At nineteen, one remains.

All I need
Is for him to call me
To call me
My life certainly
Does not come from the sky

A year had gone by since they had disappeared without a trace, a year since he had left his home and driven off, leaving his sister behind. He was alone now, he had no family. He hadn't bothered searching for some. His parents had told him there were just the four of them: his parents, Tempe, and him. Only four. Tonight, as he looks up, he realizes that only the stars are there to keep him company.

Tell him about my childhood
Away from him
Every day
How to break the silence
That surrounds him

His girlfriend of one year had recently left him, leaving him with no place to live. His boss had fired him, claiming he missed too many days of work. A friend of his had agreed to take him in. He had been there for two days and was beginning to feel like he was imposing. His things were already packed. Tomorrow, he would drove off somewhere else. Where, he did not know. He had heard of boys who never met their fathers and grew up without him. He was no child anymore. He was a man, a twenty-year-old man. But, for some reason, that didn't matter. He still felt young, felt like a child who had been thrown into a lake and was forced to learn how to swim. He felt lost. With no guiding lights, it was hard to see the way. If only his father was there, he would make sure to show him the way to get his life back on track. He missed him... more than he would ever admit.

Even though from away
I talk to him
I learn on my own
How to live
And even though I can't stop
Thinking about him
If only he could miss me

Will he give me a sign
To need love is not a crime
I send a prayer his way
If only he could miss me

Despite the months that had gone by, he still hoped that, one day, his father would appear down the street or that he would show up on his doorstep and hug him, that they would finally be reunited. Then, they could go get Temperance and his mother and they would all be together again. Every day was spent searching the crowds for his face, hoping to see him, his heart stopping momentarily at the impression of seeing him further ahead, disappointment washing in like a wave when the face turned out to be a stranger.

I would simply tell you
That except for that
All is fine
Other than a father
I have everything
I live in another world
I hold on every day
I will break the silence

That surrounds me Holidays were the hardest: his birthday, Father's Day, Christmas. The apartment was quiet tonight since Darryl had left for Boston to visit with his family. The sound of the traffic is all that reaches his ears and soothes the loneliness that plagues his soul, squeezing hard in his chest, knocking the breath out of him. He wonders briefly where his little Tempe could be and how she is holding up. He quickly moves his thoughts away from his baby sister, the pain too great to bare.

The wind penetrates his skin through his shirt and sends shivers up and down his spine. Shivering, he gets to his feet and crosses his arms in front of him, rubbing them in an effort to warm up. A car honks on the street below and, across the street, a light is turned off in one of the apartments. Midnight strikes. December 25th has officially arrived.

Will he give me a sign

Opening the screen door, Russ steps back inside, closing the door behind him. Slowly, he makes his way through the room, turning off lights as he goes by. The Christmas tree stands unlit in a corner of the living room. No presents lay under it. The last time he had placed some under a tree, his plan had backfired on him. One look at the answering machine on the counter as he passes by, half-hoping to see the blinking light warning him he had missed a call. Nothing. He lets out a loud sigh.

To miss your father is not a crime

The room is dark. Not bothering to turn on any lights, he confidently makes his way to his bed, stripping off his socks and shirt as he goes. The bed is comfortable, the pillows are soft. The warmth of the blankets comforts him, bringing back memories of time spent in front of the fireplace on Christmas Day.

I send a prayer his way

In the dark, he thinks. He wonders where his parents might be. Are they somewhere near or far? Do they think of them? Are they even still alive? Will they ever give him a sign? Will he get the chance to see them again? He misses them so much...

If only he could miss me