A/N: Rar! I wanted to get this chapter out so very long ago, but then my girlfriend broke her leg. And then there was trouble at home. And I'm still working 5 days a week... Instead, I'm getting it out tonight (seeing as how I don't have school tomorrow) and I'm really going to try hard to get chapter eight out this week, because I have it planned and I need an outlet for my depressed melodrama. Anyway, here's seven. Enjoy!

(For Vonna: Because I love you sooooooooooooooooo much, I'm stretching it out another chapter, just to make you suffer. The letter won't be seen until chapter eight!)

Disclaimer: I do not own X-Men: Evolution, never have, never will. I own Parker, and the love in my heart (worth a combined $.92)


Chapter 7


Dear Mom,

This is the last letter I will write to you, in this journal anyway. I've decided to leave this behind.

Sure, it'll be a kind of poetic justice, to show that my existence in this place, no matter how brief, will never be forgotten by anyone who lives here. But that's not the real reason. My reason is more simplistic than that.

If I were to be caught, I don't want this record of events, these letters to you about my feelings for this people, this place, to be read by the wrong eyes. This notebook is between you and me, Mom. This is what I would tell you of these people, those that I have come to love, and this is only for your eyes to see.

It's only right that I leave this journal, something so important to me, to someone that I trust to keep this book just as sacred as I have.

For a while, I thought about leaving this to Rogue.

I trust her, Mom. She's the only best friend I've had since Peter. The only girl I've ever trusted so much as I did you. But she wouldn't understand it's meaning.

She wouldn't understand because she has never felt what I feel, never known what I did. Rogue, for all her infinite grace and compassion, for all her uniqueness and quiet beauty, has never been loved unconditionally. She's never had someone tuck her into bed, bake her cookies when she's sad, make her chicken soup when she's sick. Rogue has simply never known the warmth that I was given, Mom. So she could never understand what it would be like to have it all taken away.

She just wouldn't know why I hang on as hard as I do. Why I keep this journal, and still write to you.

Rogue wouldn't fully comprehend why I still love you, after everything I've seen and done and been through, and why I still need the comfort of knowing you know everything.

I'm not sure there is anyone here who could fully relate what this really means, but there is only one other person I would trust with you.

Kurt.

Which, in itself, is something I haven't given the proper thought.

No, I can't say I've thought any of this out really. I've just been on auto-pilot since i found the card in my locker this morning. It's just like all the times before, where I'm scrambling to prepare for a hasty departure without tipping anyone off.

It makes me indescribably sad, Mom, that the final two weeks that I had wanted to spend here with my friends is gone. I'll never get those two weeks back, just like I can never see any of the X-Men again. Just another thing that DeVero has taken from me.

Mostly, I'm sorry that I couldn't find Peter.

He was my reason for coming here, not the emotionally suicidal decision to make friends and get close to people. I was trying to find Pete, and I failed at that too. I'm sorry, Mom. I'm sorry to Pete too. There are traces of him though, so I have some comfort in knowing he's still alive. Still, I haven't found him.

Part of me doubts I ever will. Part of me hopes I never will too.

I'm all packed and ready to leave, I just wanted to finish this final entry before I run. Run again.

I know, I know, no pity parties.

What Mom? You ask how I got ready so fast? That i could pack a whole new life into two saddle bags in a matter of hours? Well, it's kind of a long story. Yeah, I'll tell you...for you, anything...


I found a card in my locker.

A little piece of paper that should mean nothing. Something that was once part of a tree and nothing more. It was what was on the card that had my frozen, had my blood running cold, had my head throbbing in an instant.

I was never one to scare easily. Even the whole fear of men thing, it's a twinge compared to the out and out assault on my heart that I was getting just looking at the name printed in black letters.

So, of course, I did the mature thing in a situation like that.

I dropped my backpack on the floor, turned on my heel for the nearest bathroom and deposited my breakfast in the first open toilet.

Graceful, I know.

Rogue was outside when I was finished, looking worried.

I told her I was feeling sick, pocketing the card before she could see it. She handed me my backpack, looking unconvinced, but was smart enough not to harp on me. She was worried, that was all, and I was happy to know that she cared. But I was still miserable and shaking and scared.

So I told her I would go home, call in sick.

I didn't of course, but no sense in worrying Rogue even more than she already was.

I ditched out before homeroom started, beating the rush of kids in the hallway and walking toward my bike while dragging my feet. My head was buzzing, fight or flight instincts taking hold stronger than I've ever felt before.

Run from DeVero, the enemy.

Protect the X-Men, the family.

Run to save them. Run to save yourself.

Run. Run. RUN.

I didn't run. I was too dizzy to run. Instead, I leaned against the large tree out front, resting my forehead against the cool bark. At least hugging a huge mass lets you know that you aren't spinning, despite the fact that your feet fold beneath you and you are now deposited on the ground.

I was shivering, hugging the tree, praying that I wouldn't throw up again.

He found me.

How could he have found me? If he knew where I was, why not just come get me? Why the mind games? Always the mind games, the show of power, or dominance, or ownership. I was his, he always said, and he'd never let me forget it. He took from me, over and over, and I couldn't stop him. I was his, and this was just a show of his power again.

I had never really escaped him, I realized.

Maybe there was space between us, but he still had the power to cripple me at the mere thought of his return, of his presence. The thought of his hands made my skin crawl. The sound of his voice made my teeth clench. A growl forced it's way to my throat, but it was choked down by an equally powerful sob.

God, I was pathetic sometimes. Weak, when it came to the only thing in life I truly feared. Andrew DeVero was the devil, and I was still part of his Hell. No matter how far I ran, the distance would never be enough. He would always have that control over me, and that moment made me feel it harder than ever before.

Because I had believed myself safe. I had let myself find a home, and now I was paying the price.

Then, I suddenly realized I wasn't alone when a smooth accented voice spoke from the other side of the tree. "Vous regardez le malade, doux."

I breathed heavily against the bark of the tree, trying to erase the signs of fear and tears from my voice. Truthfully, if he could tell I was sick, he could tell that I had been crying, but he was enough of a gentleman not to mention it. Never letting go of the hold I had on the tree, I looked up at Remy as he crouched down beside me.

"Quelque chose que je peux faire pour aider?"

I laughed, but it came out more like a choking sound. I just shook my head. "No," I told him in English. I don't think there's anything you can do to help."

"I can help you from the ground," he said simply, getting to his feet and offering me his hand. I just stared at it for a moment, and he never wavered for a second. Standing there, offering me his help, without a word or a thought of consequences. And Rogue told me he was a bad guy...

Finally, I placed my hand in his own. I noticed then how small my hand was in comparison to his own. Would I be this small to Peter if I found him again? Had he outgrown me? Would his hand be as warm, as steady, as the hand of this mutant who was nearly a stranger to me?

Remy pulled me gently to my feet, and I felt the world fall back into place. At least it stopped spinning, if not all my problems disappeared. I let out a deep breath and looked up at my helper. He looked back at me, his mutant eyes ever as watchful as my own.

I think there was something about this one, this boy who was almost a man, that reminded me of myself in a way. And in that moment, something passed there. I was no longer afraid, on the edge of hysteria. The card was still hidden in the pocket of my pants like a hundred-pound anvil, but it wasn't choking me of air. It was only reminding me of my course. I would not be crippled again, I would not be helpless.

"Merci," I said to him with a small bow of my head, my eyes never leaving his.

"Vous etes bienvenu," he welcomed me, mimicking my slight bow. Then he reached into the pocket of his jacket and fished out a crushed pack of cigarettes. Following that was the appearance of a lighter, which he deftly opened and brought the flame to the crumpled tip of the stick now dangling from his bottom lip. After taking a drag from the stick, the ash tip falling to the ground, he offered it to me. "Vous vivez seulement une fois."

"Very true," I agreed, accepting the offered cigarette. It is true, what he said. You only live once.

We were quiet for quite a while after that, sharing the first cigarette, and then the second without so much as a word. Together, huddled beneath the tree, right in front of the only school that I had ever attended. It was when I crushed the second butt beneath my boot that I looked up at him and spoke again.

"I want you to do something for me." One eyebrow arched, but he didn't say a word to interrupt me. I think he was too surprised by my bluntness, and too curious about my intentions, to stop me either way. "I want you to look after her."

"Who would that be?" he asked with a joking half-smile.

I snorted. "You know who," I said. "Rogue."

"And here, I thought you didn't want me near her. Or do you often make empty threats?"

"My threats are never empty," I said with a wicked grin. I swung my backpack on to my shoulder. There were things to do today and as much as hanging around here smoking with a hot guy appealed to my teenage girl side, I just couldn't do it. "But seeing as how I won't be here to enforce them, I need you to be my eyes."

He grinned then, and the girl in me rejoiced even as the irrational fear inside my stomach began to churn. "I have two very good ones."

"I noticed," I told him, meeting my yellow to his red. "Quite a pair we would have made, eh?"

"Then why not remain?"

It was innocent enough, but the shiver up my spine made me shake my head and quite the retort heavy on my tongue. "I've been here long enough. I have to get moving again. But I mean it, I want you to look after her."

Remy placed a hand over his heart earnestly. "On my honor as a gentleman."

I would have outright laughed at that, had he not just a little while ago offered me his hand out of pure chivalry. Still, I couldn't let him totally slide. "I expect her home by curfew. No debauchery or corruption. And most importantly," I said, poking him once in the chest. "You gotta treat her right. Rogue's not the love-'em and leave-'em type. If you're gonna start something, you see it through, got me?"

He nodded. "Salut, doux."

"I will," I assured him, touched in spite of myself. "Salut, Remy." And then I left him under the tree, starting on his third cigarette, and I took a mental snapshot of that.

For the first time in a long time, I had felt at ease in the presence of a man who could, quite easily, have overpowered me if he had desired. And what had he down? Helped me in a bad place and gave me time to collect myself. In my heart, I knew he'd treat my friend well.

I reached my bike in the parking lot, and strapped my backpack down easily. Then I swung into the seat and revved the engine, gunning it out of the lot as if the hounds of hell were at my back tire. I just closed the first, and probably only, public school experience of my life.

Suddenly, I got this quirky thought in my head. It was like one of the announcers after the super bowl asking the MVP what he was going to do now that he won. You know how they always say they're going to Disneyland? Well, it felt like the announcer was saying that to me right now. "Parker Watson, you haven't found your brother and your crazy foster father is after you again, what are you going to do now?"

For no reason, even as tears began to course down my face again, I shouted at the top of my lungs, "I'm going to Disneyland!"

Now, I wasn't really going to Disneyland. For one, I had no money. For two, I really had no desire, it was just one of those things that popped into my head. But it made me think about where I really was going to go now that Bayville was no longer open to me. I mean, I'd only been there a few weeks and already I had come to look at this place as home. I knew this place, and loved it, and wanted it for myself. It just wasn't meant to be.

So I went where any other self-respecting teen ditching school went. To the mall.

Surprisingly, or unsurprisingly if you think about it, it was already packed with people. I wandered around for a little while before I found that store Rogue had dragged me to the last time we were here. I smiled and walked in, just needing some place to be comfortable and secure.

I didn't expect him to be there, but there he was anyway. The same place he was in last time, checking out the shirts. It was kind of a deja vu scenario that made me smile lazily.

"Why Lance," I said easily, the smile in my voice. "Fancy seeing you here on a school day!"

He whirled, blinked twice, then colored as he flashed a guilty smile. Somehow, he wasn't as surprised to see me as I thought he would be. Could it be that I gave myself away as being a bad ass? "I should be saying the same thing to you."

"Pish posh," I joked. "Who needs book learnin'!"

"Oh great, another lecture."

"No lecture," I said with my hands up. "I do not judge, I only observe and send the data back to my people on the mother ship."

Lance just shook his head and laughed. "What are you doing here?"

I shrugged. "Just cruising the mall one more time before I hit the road."

"Hit the road?" He was confused, so I simplified.

"I'm leaving the Institute tonight. The place just isn't for me, and I've got other places to be."

"I thought you liked it there," Lance commented idly, hands in his pockets as we walked from the store and into the throng of the mall. We left under the guise of looking for Tabby, who was still at large somewhere, but we really just talked a little. I linked my arm through one of his as we walked, a kind of comfortable gesture. I surprised myself really, but then I decided not to analyze the fact and just continue walking. "You and Rogue seemed close."

"Yeah, she's great, but the whole school thing," I shook my head, breaking off. "I'm not cut out for that kind of life. At least not yet, you know?"

"I guess," he conceded.

"But don't think I'm letting you off easy," I commented with an accusatory finger. "You better take care of my little Kitty, or I'll be back on my bike and in your grill faster than you can say "stalker"."

Lance held up his hands in mock surrender, but he was smiling none the less. "Ok, I agree."

"Well this is a cozy little scene!" a loud voice said from behind us. Lance and I turned to find Tabby, shopping bags in hand, giving us a very suggestive look.

"Hi Tabby," I said with a grin. "You remember me, right?"

"Rogue's friend, the Finch-fan," she said triumphantly. Her eyes lit with amusement as I nodded. "I'm good with faces, horrible at names."

"I can't imagine why," Lance muttered, giving her a scathing look as he eyed her purchases. "Don't tell me you blew our food money on that crap."

"Come on, Lance!" she whined in the characteristic girl voice that all femmes possess. "There are just some things that a woman needs." She sighed disgustedly. "You'll never understand the complexity of the fairer sex!"

"Whoa, whoa," I said with a snicker. "Let's not get into a gender war here."

"But that's our ritual," Lance said, still glaring at Tabby. She, in turn, glared right back. "She blows our funds on make-up and knock-off clothes while we go hungry, and she cries femininity."

I couldn't help but laugh. "Wow, I am totally impressed Tabby."

"Hey!" Lance objected. We women only laughed. A secret code, if you will. I almost felt sorry for him. Almost being the key word.

For about an hour I wandered with the two other teenagers. Tabby would occasionally drag us into one store or another so she could make some dire purchase that Lance would argue with her about, but she'd end up buying it anyway. I sprang for food, seeing as how Lance was utterly without cash and Tabby was "being conservative". I figured three subs was the least I could do.

At around noon, I decided it was time to end my final romp with the Brotherhood, so I broke it to them gently outside of Abercrombie and Fitch.

"This is where I have to say goodbye kiddies."

"Really?" Tabby asked, pouting slightly.

"Sorry," I smiled. "I still have to pack some stuff and take off tonight."

Lance held out his hand. "Well, take care then." I accepted the shake. "I hope we'll see you again."

I couldn't tell him yes, because I knew the facts were that I was never coming back here. But at the same time, I couldn't bring myself to say that. "Maybe," was my response with a forced smile. "Do me a favor and tell the rest of the Bro-hood to lay off the X-men, ok? Scott has a hard enough time getting laid as it is, stressing him out too much will just destroy his libido for life."

We laughed for about three minutes straight picturing that. Or rather, how nothing about Scott would really change, except his drive for success. What's that thing they say about male animals after the "snip-snip" incident? They "calm down"?

I left on a high note, waving to them from the door before I left the sanctity of the mall for the woes of reality once more. It's funny how the world looks so much darker once you leave a mall.

For a while, I didn't really know where to go. I didn't want to go back to the Institute, seeing as how I was supposed to be in school and I really didn't want to tell them that I got sick in the bathroom. Then, as I was driving along, I knew exactly where to go. I took the next left out of town and into the state park where Rogue had taken me once before.

The leaves were starting to change color. I noticed it as I drove to the playground and parked. This time I walked past the swings and sat beneath the monkey bars. I pulled my journal and a pencil from the side bag. Turning to a clean page, I started sketching.

It could have been minutes, or maybe even hours that passed as I sat there drawing. Frankly, I could have been there days and it wouldn't have mattered. All that mattered was the pencil on paper, and the picture in my mind. The first page began with the trunk of a tree, and a lean body reclining against it. I took my time, adding all the details from the pockets in his trench coat to the lit cigarette in his hand. Remy came alive on my paper, forever immortalized by my pen.

The second drawing was a scene inspired during lunch. Lance was hunched at one end of a small food court table, half a sub in his hands as he glared daggers at Tabby, who sat across from him. I made sure to have his hair falling across his forehead at just the right angle. For Tabby, I made sure that the straw on the drink she was holding the properly chewed and that her lips were thinned against her teeth, a second from baring them in an angry gesture.

The third, and final drawing, was of Ororo, bending over her plants to add the merest drop of water to an African violet. Her hair was swept back and the light was hitting the flowers at just the right degree to make them open. It almost looked real, but it could never fully hold the grace and beauty of the true scene.

None of my drawings could fully hold the unhindered life of those who donned their pages. It was impossible to transfer life to something not alive. I, of all people, knew this fact. Me, the Dreamweaver. The girl able to create anything with only her hands and her will. But I knew that life could not be created by shortcuts or powers, only by nature.

When I finished, I decided it was about time for me to be heading back, so I packed up my stuff and drove back. It turns out I was a little late. Scott's car was already in the garage, and I just knew the lecture I was about to get from Rogue when I went inside, so I stayed out for a minute.

I saw Logan wheeling his bike out on the driveway, tool box in hand. He was about to tinker some. I decided that now was as good a time as any to give him my 'round-about goodbye, so I headed over to him.

"What's wrong with your bike now?" I asked him when I got over there.

"Muffler's loose," he replied, eyes never leaving said part. "Can't get it to stay on."

"Have you tried bubble gum?" It was meant as a joke, though bubble gum does actually work as a good temporary adhesive when you're stuck on a highway without a gas station for miles.

His grunt said it all. I hunched down beside him, looking at the muffler. He grabbed a wrench and started tightening this bolt and loosening this nut. I held the muffler steady while he did this. When he was done, he nodded his head to me in thanks. "Don't mention it," I told him. Then I gulped and took the plunge. "Thanks for letting me help you with your bike before, and now."

He looked at me a second, then went back to his task. "You're the only kid here who knows a damn thing about bikes." I took that to mean "you're welcome".

"Bye Logan," I said, getting up and heading back toward the house. Granted, he had no idea that I was saying goodbye forever, but I got to say my goodbye. Now I had to deal with the rest of the house.

I avoided Rogue as long as I could, slipping through room after room. First on my list was Beast. He was easy, all i had to do was whip up a turkey sandwich and deliver it to him in the lower levels. Most grateful, and ever polite, as he is, I think he knew something more was on my mind. I just told he never to stop being fuzzy inside and out, then took my leave.

Scott was in the Danger Room, as if it was a surprise. I didn't suit up to join him as I had planned to do. Instead, I waited for him to have a break, then brought him a bottle of water.

"You're looking good out there," I told him.

"I'd get a higher ratio if you were with me," he grinned. "You're pretty brutal with those stick things."

"Batons," I corrected. "They aren't pointy, which is why I love them." I paused a moment, then I just tossed an arm around his shoulder in an impulsive half-hug. "I'm sorry that I won't be running with you today," I told him when I pulled back, as if explaining my breech of self-control. If he understood at all, he didn't say anything. He only looked at my strangely for a moment. "Bye Scott." And with that, I left him to his robots and his running courses.

The next person I found was Jean. She was in the kitchen with Jubilee and Rahne, drinking lemonade and doing Algebra homework. There was classic Jean for you, helping the others whenever they asked her. She was selfless and beautiful and brilliant. Yes, there was definitely a reason to hate her. But even still, there was more to love about her.

I made my rounds a 3-for-1 deal. I refilled their glasses, listened in for a few minutes, offered help where I could, then said my subtle goodbye. They waved and went back to work. How were they to know I really meant goodbye?

Ray, Roberto and Bobby were in the dinning room, polishing off an afternoon snack and having one of their "manly" power contests. It ended with Ray scorching the wall again, Roberto accidentally setting the drapes on fire, and Bobby freezing the china until it cracked. I laughed until I cried when Ororo burst in and gave them the scolding of their young lives. I blew each of them a kiss and said goodbye. All three of them colored and left the room in the other direction. Much as they were fools, I would miss their entertainment.

I followed Ororo up to her room. "Can I help you water your plants?" I asked her.

"Of course," she agreed, handing me a small watering can. We went about our task eagerly. I tested all the pots with the tip of my finger, then added some water when needed. "How is my ivy doing?"

"Selene is just fine," I chatted. I had already told her early about my having named the plant. "She's perking up and taking to the sun wonderfully. In fact, all the brown is gone from her leaves."

"That's wonderful," she congratulated me.

"Thanks again, for giving her to me," I said kind of quietly. I was getting close to my goodbye and my throat was closing up. It was harder than I thought to tell this woman farewell.

"It was an easy decision," she told me with a kind look. I placed my watering can down and hugged her.

"Thank you for having faith in me," I told her fiercely before pulling back and heading to the door. "Bye Ororo."

"Parker, is there something wrong?" she asked as I opened the door to leave.

I froze. What to do? What to say? I didn't know where to even begin. "No." It wasn't a lie really. Something wasn't wrong, everything was.

My list was growing shorter, and the day was drawing shorter, so I sped up a little. Amara was a quick farewell. She was reading a novel in her room when I popped in to tell her dinner was ready and that she better move if she expected food. I walked her to the dining room, telling her that I regretted us not having a chance to get to know each other better. She agreed, and was sorry when I veered away from the crowd eating dinner. Our goodbye was short, but not without meaning.

After the dinner crowd cleared, I made my move on Evan. He was on dish detail, so I made it my mission to help him out. He thanked me about fifty times, all the while I was laughing and telling him not to worry about it. When we parted, I "officially" rocked. I'd miss him, though I didn't expect to really. Evan made life fun for anyone around him, even if it was only by him hurting himself in a skating accident.

Sam was in the living room, battling Jubilee on some video game or another, so I don't think he paid much attention when I said goodbye to him. Still, I laughed at the scene they made and went off to find Kitty.

Kitty was one of the few people in this place that I felt that I had grown close to. I found her in her room, working on her homework while color-coding her sock drawer. I smiled at the sheer absurdity, and yet the absolute perfection of the situation. It was totally Kitty.

I flopped across her bed and watched for a second. "Tell me Kitty, is this your idea of fun?"

I got a sock in the face for my trouble. "Well, if I don't do it, who will?" she said in that superior tone of hers. I grinned.

"Very true." I fiddled with the white sock beside me on the bed, solemn now. "You know Kitty, you've been nothing but wonderful to me since I came here. I just wanted to thank you for it."

"It's nothing Parker," she said with a smile over her shoulder at me. "You're easy to be nice to."

I smiled, feeling a place in my heart tighten as I got to my feet. I couldn't find anything else to say, so I just hugged her quickly. "Have a good night Kitty." I couldn't find it in me to say that dreaded word of goodbye to her.

Finally, when I was leaving her room, Rogue confronted me. "Ah thought ya went home sick," she said with a frown, hands on her hips.

"Don't pout, Rogue," I told her. "You're prettier when you smile."

"Don't change tha subject," she demanded testily. "Didja ditch me today for any important reason?"

"I didn't ditch you," I said with a sigh. "I really was sick. I just didn't want to come here and be fretted over."

"Where did ya go?" Already she was softening up. That was just Rogue, all bark with a marshmallow center.

"I went to the park," I informed her. "Listen sweetie, I'm going to go watch some TV. I'm just...tired. We'll talk later, ok?"

"Yer ditchin' me again?" She looked and sounded hurt. I reached over and tugged on her sleeve. When she looked up, I gave her a look that I hope conveyed how much I didn't want to say goodbye to her right now. There was so much to say, so much unsaid that I just couldn't bring myself to begin. I opened my mouth to say something else, but then closed it when she held up a hand. "Forget it," she said. "Ah ain't yer babysitter." With that, she stormed off.

I wanted to stop her, wanted to go after her and say what I wanted to, but I didn't. I couldn't. I just couldn't find it in myself to say goodbye to my best friend. So instead, I went downstairs and joined Jamie who was, as always, watching television. I sat beside him on the couch for an evening of cartoons.

We didn't talk, and I was glad about that. Eventually, Jamie nodded off, his head leaning on my shoulder. I looked down on him and was reminded strongly of Peter. My senses swam as my eyes filled with exhausted and pained tears. Oh God how I missed my brother. How my heart broke because I was the closest to finding him that I had ever been, but couldn't stay long enough to find him.

"Hey, little man, wake up," I said, shaking Jamie lightly. "Time for bed kiddo."

"Five more minutes, mom," he muttered brokenly, curling up.

"Sorry Jamie, but you have to go to your bed, not the couch." He opened his eyes slowly and blinked up at me. "It lives!"

"Sorry," he blushed, sitting up. Then he stretched and got up. "G'night."

"Good night Jamie," I said as I watched him head up the stairs. "Take care." I got up from the couch and turned off the television, then I walked to the library.

The first thing I did was fish my journal and a pen out of my bag. Then I tore out a few pages of the journal and began to compose a letter. Two in fact. The first was for Rogue. In it I told her everything that I wanted to say to her, but just couldn't bring myself to say to her face to face. The second and most important, was for Kurt. The one person I had not spoken with today. The worst day of my life.

It took me the better part of two hours, but I was able to finish them. When I emerged from the library, the school was dark and all was quiet. It was past the time for my nightly rendezvous with Kurt, so I was sure he was in his room, asleep. I was the only one left lurking.


...And this is where I leave you, Mom.

I'm sorry again for all that I've left undone, and all the promises I left unfulfilled. I will not let you down, I swear it. I just need more time, but my time here is up.

Look out for me, Mom. I'll need your help now that I'm alone again.

All my love,

Parker


And lurk I did, right up to my room. I packed up my clothes, shoving them in my saddle bags. The clothes that I was given from the other students were folded and left on my bed. I couldn't pack them, it would be too big a reminder. Well, I did keep Kurt's sweatshirt. And I only kept that because I had become too attached to let it go. And because I was wearing it at the time.

When I was completely packed and there was nothing else keeping me from running, I left my little room, placing my bags in the hallway. I had one final thing to do before I left.

I crept over to the door leading into Kitty and Rogue's room. Slowly, I turned to knob so it wouldn't make a sound, and I snuck in. You ever notice how you make the most noise when you're trying to be quiet? Somehow, miraculously, I made it to Rogue's bedside table without waking her or Kitty. On the table I left the letter I had written her, and I left Selene.

I slipped out again and snuck down the hall to another room. Kurt's room. Journal and letter in hand, I opened his door and slipped inside.

I had never been in his room before, and it was a little cluttered, but not unlivable. Typical boy. Looked kind of like Peter's from back in the day. I shook my head of the thought as I walked further inside. Kurt was in bad, half covered, half hanging over the edge. He looked perfectly comfortable and I had to stifle a giggle.

I placed my journal on the foot of his bed and then backed up a step to look at him. My cat's eyes let me see perfectly, as if night was day, as if he was under a florescent light. If I had to describe Kurt in one word, in the time I've known him, through all the conversations we've had and all the times I'd watch him at school or with the others when no one knew I was watching, it would be "open".

I doubt he even realizes how very open he is. With anyone. It's like he can embrace any situation, any person, and still come out as the same person with more wisdom. He was just the kind of person you know would understand anything, even someone as screwed up as me.

I think it was in that moment that I realized I had inadvertently fallen into a situation I could only classify as some for of affection, bordering on love. Freaky, yes. Surprising, not really. Kurt had a way of growing on a person. I was just another casualty.

"I have to go now," I whispered to him. He didn't stir. "I know on some level that you hear me, so I wanted to come clean. I'm sorry that I have to go like this, like a thief in the night. I just don't want to get anyone hurt. Especially since all of you have been nothing but kind and generous to me since I've come here. Especially since all of you have had it hard enough as it is without all my problems to add to it."

I shifted, sighing slightly. "This is the solution to my dream, Kurt. I have to leave the Institute, for the good of everyone here. Forgive me, ok?" I got up and leaned over him. "Take care of yourself." Then I did something foolish and impulsive and so unlike myself I can't tell you what came over me. My brain stopped working--it had too--because there was no other explanation for me to do what I did.

I kissed Kurt.

Granted he was sleeping and I scampered out of the room a second later, but it's the principle of the thing.

I'm an idiot.

So I grabbed up my bags and left the second floor. When I came to the front door on the bottom of the stairs, I used my powers to create a lock pick and quickly opened the door. Then I slipped outside to the garage, dodging the surveillance as I went. I couldn't help but feel like scum, but I knew this was the best thing I could do.

I wheeled my bike out of the garage and a few yards from the door before I hopped on and started it. Even though the engine wasn't loud, I didn't want to take any chances. I drove down the long driveway and toward the gate. Once I was outside of it, I made to gun and take off out of Bayville, but something prevented me.

The fact that I was physically lifted off of my bike.

I would have screamed, but a hand came down over my mouth. Even as I struggled, I was held fast.

Then I saw it. The face of my nightmares. The face I had been running from for over a year. DeVero.

In his hand was a small gun, like the ones you'd see in a jewelry place for piercing your ears, only instead of a stud in it there was a small microchip. It was an inhibitor, placed in the back of my neck, to control my powers. My eyes widened as he brought it closer. I thrashed in a stranger's arms, flailing, fighting. It did no good. He brought the gun to my neck which was forcefully exposed due to my captor.

I felt it pierce my skin and then my world went black.


A/N: No responses because I wanted to get this out so fast. I hope you enjoy it!