Authors Note: Okay, I know I should write about Lucy's mom's funeral but honestly every time I started it I just didn't feel like writing it. It was too emotional. Anyway, the story is still chock-full of emotion so, as always, enjoy.

Quick side note: I was listening to "Photograph" by Nickleback when I wrote this. So it was my inspiration.

Chapter 6-

The next day was one of the hardest days of my life. Although I usually hated my mom after the age of 8 I still didn't want her to die. No one wants that for a parent no matter how much they think they do. I think the hardest part was seeing Jack. He was wheeled in in his wheelchair and he just stared. It wasn't like he even changed or anything. He was the same old Jack.

After the funeral my dad and I took a walk while Sophie visited some friends she knew in the city. I took my dad to my old school.

I always wanted to show this place to him. Everyday in school I would stare out the window and imagine what my dad was like and all the things we would have done together. I could imagine a lot . . . and I did. A lot about what my dad was like. He would have my blonde hair and green eyes. Green because my mom's were blue and I had one blue and one green. He would dress cool and act it, too. But it wouldn't be embarrassing. He'd be the kind of dad every kid would want. And most importantly he would love me. I could imagine all those things but every time I did it hurt so badly. So bad because I knew I didn't have that dad. I had the dad that left when I was 2 and hadn't shown his face since.

Looking at Peter now, watching him look at where I grew up. Walking in the same places I did so many years ago. Back when I was just a little kid not knowing anything about the world and how scary it could be. And then when I was older, being a lonely 13 year old pissed off at her dad.

Watching Peter going through all the emotions I never thought I would see made me cry. Torrents of tears streamed down my cheeks. I could taste their saltiness in my mouth. Peter looked up and saw me standing in the middle of Ms. Ryan's classroom bawling. He came over to me and wrapped his arms around me and we cried together. We just stood their and cried.

After a few moments we heard a knock on the door and Sophie walked in. I took a step back from my dad and wiped my eyes, a little embarrassed by my emotions. I looked at my dad and saw him wiping tears from his eyes, too and I couldn't help but giggle a little.

"How are you guys doing?" Sophie asked gently.

I smiled at her suddenly feeling friendly towards her. "Good." I said.

"Are you ready to go? The janitors are starting to leave." I looked outside and saw the sun sinking beneath the towering skyscrapers. I couldn't believe how late it had gotten so quickly.

"I'm ready, how about you?" Peter asked me.

I couldn't leave New York without my dad seeing one last place. "Can we go somewhere else first? Real quick, I promise."

5 minutes later we were standing in front of mine and mom's apartment, if you could call it that. I bit my lip suddenly afraid of letting my dad into mine and mom's space. I knew he had to come in here sometime. I took out my key and unlocked the door. The door creaked open and we walked into the tiny space.

Flipping on the overhead light I could see my dad's reaction and it wasn't exactly how I envisioned it. He was shocked by how small the space was, I could tell. "This is where you lived?" he asked.

"Yep, in all it's glory, too." I said.

"I can't believe I let you live here." Peter said still in shock.

I smiled at him a little to make him feel better. "You weren't really letting me live here since you didn't know anything about me or mom."

"But still. I knew you were alive. I could have found you. I can understand why you hated me so much."

"Dad, come on." I said walking over to him. "Don't beat yourself up over this. I'm okay now. And most of the time I didn't really care where we lived." The last part was a lie. I hated where we lived. I was mad at my dad for not coming and saving us from the horrible apartment. I was mad at him for not taking me away from mom and my step dad when they got really bad and would hit me. I didn't even have my own space to hide in.

I didn't want Peter to feel bad about it, though. Now that I knew who he was and I loved him I didn't want him feeling guilty. It made me feel bad.

"I just . . . I'm sorry, Luce. I'm so sorry."

I shrugged. "Its okay, Dad, you didn't do anything wrong. You have nothing to apologize for. Look, I'm fine. I'm happy, under normal conditions, I live in a good place, and you're here. I'm good. I couldn't ask for anything else."

All Peter could do was pull me into another hug. I could tell he was fighting tears but he wouldn't let them come. He was being strong and I liked that. It was a quality I imagined my dad would have.

"I love you." I whispered.

"I love you, too, Luce." He whispered back.