Disclaimer: I do not own any right to Marvel or Fox or whoever else has their hand in the X-Men stuff.

Sidenote: I apologize for this chapter being late. After standing in line, out in the freezing cold for three and a half hours to see Bo Bice (it was well worth it), I got to see him and ending up standing for over nine hours total, but by the time I got home, I was too tired to finish it. Once I did,the site was acting up a little bit and so I've been trying to upload this chapter fortwo days now. I hope it was worth the wait! Please enjoy!

I woke the next morning to the sound of rain. It was soothing and I nearly fell back to sleep, until some of the rain shut off and I realized that it was the shower instead. The real rain, I realized, was only a dull pound on the roof and windows.

I took one of Logan's pillows and curled up in the blankets. Everything felt nice and comfortable and I allowed myself to sink into the bed. It was my favorite part of the day. I drifted in and out of a lazy sleep until I heard the door to the bathroom open and Logan came out.

"Mornin' darlin'," he said, walking to the other side of the bed. I grunted out a 'hello' and he laughed.

I opened my eyes and looked up at him. He was wearing blue jeans and nothing else. "What time is it?" I mumbled.

"Almost eight."

It was a Sunday so I didn't worry about missing breakfast; it would start for another hour.

I let out a sigh. "I don't want to get up. Your bed's more comfortable than mine."

He sat down beside me and kicked his feet up on the bed, scooting down until he was eyelevel with me. "I was thinkin'," he said, propping his head up with his arms and staring up at the ceiling.

"Well, we should alert the school: I do believe that's cause for celebration," I joked sarcastically.

"You wanna' hear what I was thinkin' or not?" he quipped.

"Yes, go on."

"Last night you were talkin' about your grandparents but you didn't say anything about your father's parents."

"That's because I never knew them. Daddy never saw or spoke to them, as far as I can remember. He never talked about them, either. Why were you thinking about that, though?"

"'Cause you said Scooter was the only family you had aside from your mother. I thought if you had some other family, you wouldn't care so much about what he thought."

"I don't even know if they're still alive."

"Have you ever tried lookin' for 'em?"

"No. No one ever said anything about them and they weren't from Connecticut, so I just never tried to find them."

"Where were they from?"

"I don't know. Daddy was from New York, so probably somewhere around there."

"There? Darlin', we're livin' in New York."

I rolled over and saw the amused look on his face. But however amused he may have been, I felt foolish for having never thought about looking for them. They rarely entered my mind, and if they did, it was only a fleeting thought. I lay there thinking about it and was shocked by the fact that I possibly had a whole other family that I didn't know about.

"I have to go talk to the Professor," I said, standing from the bed.

"You want me to go with you?" he asked as I got to the door.

"No, I'm fine. Thanks, though. I'll see you down at breakfast, yeah?"

"Yeah," he said standing. "I'll see you later."

"Not if I see you sooner," I joked, walking into the hall. I hear him mutter something I couldn't understand as his laughter disappeared behind his door as I closed it.

I started down the hall in a hurry. I was on a mission; Find Chuck. If I had family somewhere, he would know. Aside from being a very gifted psychic, the man was also a genius with some crazy connections and a selfless attitude. I was going to need him if I was ever going to find anyone.

Did I have grandparents still, or where they dead. If they were alive, did they know that they had a granddaughter? What if they did, what if they knew about me all along and didn't want to meet me?

Was daddy an only child or did he have siblings? What if I had aunts and uncles that I never knew about? As far as I had known, Scott was the only uncle I had, but with as much as I knew about daddy, I could have had more.

What if I had cousins I never knew? What if they had kids, I could be an aunt and never know…oh wait, no, I would have to have a sibling of my own with a kid to be an aunt. Never mind, I should have slept longer.

I was so wound up in my sleep-confused thoughts, that I didn't notice Uncle Scott until I nearly ran into him.

"Hey, have you seen Professor Xavier? I need to speak to him."

He looked at me for a moment, looking confused by the fact that I was actually talking to him. "Uh, yeah, he's in his office," he said.

"Okay, thank you!" I said, starting back down the hall, then I turned around and ran back to him. I gave him a kiss on the cheek. "I'm sorry, I'm not mad at you anymore. I love you."

He kissed me on top of my head. "I'm sorry and I love you, too," he said.

"I'll see you at breakfast," I told him, turning around and going back down the hall.

I dodged students on my way down the stairs and jogged lightly to the Professor's office. I knocked on the closed door once and paced back and forth until he called me in. "I don't mean to interrupt, sir, are you busy?"

"No, I'm just grading some papers from Friday's Physics test. Please, have a seat," he said, motioning to one of the chairs in front of his desk.

I sat down and ruffled my hair. I was still in my pajamas and probably looked a fright, but my state of urgency hadn't given me time to change. "Sir, this may seem like an odd request and I don't know if you can help me or not, but I was wondering if you might help me try to find our about my father's family?"

"I thought that's what you were here for," he said, wheeling out from behind his desk to beside me.

"Well, can you?" I asked timidly, scared of his answer.

"I can try, yes. I can't promise you any results, though."

"I know."

"May I ask why you want to find them now?"

"Logan and I were talking last night about my family and this morning he asked about them. I said I didn't know them. I had forgotten that they were from here, or that I was living here, or something, I don't know." I paused for a moment and let out a sigh. "I hate to sound pessimistic Professor, but I know my mother, I saw her before I left and…she's not going to last much longer, not the way she's going. When she dies, Scott will be all I have left. And that's only given that he doesn't get killed on some mission by some psychopathic mutant. I need to know my other family because if I lose both of them, then I won't have anyone left. I'll be all alone. And as strong as I try to be, I don't know how to be on my own. I need people, whether to take care of them or for them to take care of me, and when both of them are gone, I'll be by myself. I don't know how to be by myself."

He smiled at me kindly. "I will help you the best that I can."

"Thank you."

"Do you know your grandparent's names?"

"Uh…" I said, biting my lip as I thought hard. I had thought more about them that morning than I ever had. I had to think hard to try to pull a memory from my mind of when my mother and daddy were having a conversation and were talking about two people that I could only assume where daddy's parents. "I think their names are Joseph and Eliza Walker. My father was from New York, but I'm not sure of what part. Uh…that's all I know or remember; they never talked much about either one of their families."

"Give me some time and I will try to do my best."

"All right. Thank you very much, I really appreciate this," I said standing. "I know you're really busy and this means a lot to me."

"I'm sure I'm not as busy as I seem," he smiled.

"Well thank you anyway," I said, walking towards the door.

"Oh, and Delia," he said, stopping me before I left his office. I turned back to face him. "No matter what happens, you will always have a home here, no matter who you lose or find. I want you to know that."

A home, a solid home, that's what he was offering me. I didn't know quite how to process that information and was afraid that if I did, I might get slightly more emotional that I ever wanted to get in front of the Professor. And so I just nodded my head and left his office without another word.

I felt awkward for the next couple of days. Somewhat unsettled, I guess. What the Professor had said as I was leaving after asking him to help me was my reason for feeling that way. He said that the school could be my home. I wasn't entirely sure that he realized I couldn't have a home. Whenever I attempted to get comfortable some place and settle in to make it my home, something happened for it to be taken away from me. This, although just a theory, was a proven one. I knew that it was my mother who usually brought the situations on to help further, or even create, the problems for which we always have to leave. I was well aware that my mother was not there and in all reasoning shouldn't have been worried about losing my 'home', but I was. Actually, scratch the worried; I was down right scared.

I was sitting in the den with Logan, Storm, Rogue, Bobby, Jean and Uncle Scott watching some TV show on home renovation. I wasn't paying much attention and barely noticed when Logan, who was sitting on the couch furthest from the others with me, reached over and attempted to take one of my cookies. I was in a daze, staring at the TV, but not really watching it.

"You alright kid?" he asked, taking one of the Thin Mints and popping it into his mouth.

"Yeah, why?" I asked, not blinking at the screen.

"You're starin' at the TV and you've sat there and nearly ate a whole box of cookies."

I pulled my eyes away from the television to look over at him. He was sitting beside me with his feet propped up on the small coffee table in front of us. He took another cookie from the open box in my hand as he waited for my reply.

"Why do care if I'm staring at the TV? If I stare at you too long, you get mad at me, so this shouldn't bother you. And so what if I have nearly eaten an entire box of cookies? I paid for them, their mine. Besides, I have a sweet tooth."

"Don't blame eatin' a box of cookies on your tooth; it didn't make you do it," he said with a wink, going for another Thin Mint.

I snatched the box out of his grasp. "Sorry, but you can't make fun of me and then take my cookies; it doesn't work that way with me," I said. "And anyway, I'm fine, although I could ask what's wrong with you?"

He was wearing a white T-shirt and jogging pants. Although he couldn't really get sick, he certainly didn't look as well as usual.

"Don't feel good today," he said. "Now give me one of those."

"Here," I said, shoving the box into his hands.

"What's wrong?" he asked, toning down his voice so only I could hear him.

"Nothing."

"You're lyin'."

"So?"

"So tell me what's wrong."

I looked around; no one was paying any attention to us, they were all still watching the TV. "I don't want to talk about it in here."

He stood, took my hand and pulled me up. Together we walked from the den, out into the hallway and I then followed him all the way into the kitchen. I walked over to the island, lifted myself up and sat down onto it.

"What's wrong?" he asked again, crossing his impressive arms over his equally impressive chest, as he stood right in front of me.

I played with the hem of my hot and link pink striped skirt that I was wearing over my blue jeans and let out a sigh. "I'm worried about this place," I admitted.

He blinked at me. "Worried about what?"

"I don't know; that I'll lose it, that something's going to happen. I was fine; I was doing fine…but then Professor Xavier said something the other day about this being my home and I got scared."

"Why?" he asked, walking closer.

"I don't have a home. The last one I had, my daddy died and I ended up losing it. Everything since then has slipped away, it's a given, it's what always happens, every time. What if something happens here?"

"Nothing's gonna' happen here."

"You don't know that."

"Yes I do."

"Logan, it's not some joke or superstition; I'm being serious. If this school is my home, something might happen to it."

"I'm not gonna' let anything happen to you, you hear me?" he said, standing in front of me, placing a hand on either side of me and looked me right in the eye. "I'm not gonna' let you get hurt."

"You don't understand; this isn't about me, it's about the school. I think I should leave."

"You wanna' know what I think?"

"What?" I asked, staring him right back in the eye.

"I think you're scared, but not of something happening to the school. You're scared of settling down and gettin' attached to people."

"You're full of it, you know that?"

"Really? You're gonna' sit there and tell me that your mother screwed you over your whole life, you're scared to tell any of your family that you're a mutant and your daddy dyin' didn't affect you? That you're not constantly scared that everyone's gonna' leave you? You don't wanna' get close 'cause you're scared that you're gonna' get hurt, 'cause you always do."

"Well that's just super freakin' fantastic Logan, you have me all figured out, don't you?"

"I'm not done kid," he said, getting as close to me as he could. "When I look at you, I see me." I cocked an eyebrow at him. "You think I'm used to havin' a home, either? I practically lived in a truck for fifteen years of my life and when Chuck offered me a place here, I didn't wanna' take it 'cause I knew I'd lose it. You're scared and you're runnin' away, that's what I used to do and that's what you're doin' now. You leave and go back to Connecticut then guess what? You will be right; you will lose this place, it won't be your home."

"I am not scared and I am not running away," I yelled in protest.

"Really?"

"Yes, really."

He shook his head. "I don't believe you."

"I don't care."

"I don't believe that either."

"Well as far as I'm concerned, I don't care if you believe anything that I say."

"You've been lookin' for a reason to leave this place since you got here. Whether you were meanin' to or not, and it's not what Chuck said that scared you, it's what you said that did."

"And what, exactly, did I said that scared me so terribly? It couldn't have been too important or I would remember it, wouldn't I?"

He moved his face in close, his nose nearly touching mine. I could feel his hot breath on my mouth, coming out at a furious pace. He kept his eyes locked with mine and when I moved my head to look away, he tilted it back up with his hand.

I looked at his face and saw a concentration that only a life like his could give him. He wasn't looking into my eyes, I could feel it, he was looking past them. He was inside of my head, he knew all of my thoughts and it didn't matter what I said to him, he had a smarter and truer retort. I was scared to be close to people, he was right. I was terrified that he was standing right in front of me, looking right at me, and seeing everything that I had hidden from everyone else. He saw past all of my charades, excuses and distractions.

He saw inside of me demons that I had wanted to kill. I was full of demons and he had known that from the day we met. No one had ever managed to really see me, but that day in the garden, he had known everything about me. And yet, that was the one time when no one had actually seen me, because of the fog.

I had barely known that man, but there he stood, right in front of me, seeing things through me that made me feel exposed and vulnerable. He made me terrified.

"The other night when you were in my room, you said that your mother hated you. You told me that, you said she hated you for bein' alive and your father dyin' instead of you. And you cried. You're scared 'cause you were comfortable with me and said something that you're afraid is gonna' make me think you're weak. You're scared because I know something about you now that you don't tell anyone. You don't wanna' take care of your mother, you do is so that you have an excuse to run away from other people. You're not runnin' now, 'cause I'm not lettin' you. You're stayin' here and nothing's gonna' happen 'cause you only lose your home when you want to, when you're getting too attached to people and you're scared they know you."

"If you know all of that, if you know that I run when people know me, then why didn't you just pretend you couldn't see me? Why couldn't you just let me go on believing that I was hiding everything perfectly well, instead of proving to me that everyone can obviously see all of my problems?"

"'Cause everyone can't see 'em, I can," he said, still staring me in the eye. "Can you handle that?"

"Are you going to hurt me?"

He shook his head slowly, never losing eye contact. "No darlin', I'm not gonna' hurt you, I promise."

"Then yeah, I can handle it."

"You gotta' promise me something too, though."

The air felt thick with emotion and it strangled me. I couldn't breathe and my heart felt as though it had stopped.

"What?"

"You don't leave when summer gets here."

"I can't promise you that."

"Your mother chooses to screw up her life, by goin' back to her, all you're gonna' do is let her screw up yours up, too."

"That's my decision to make, though, and no matter what happens, what she does to herself or me, she's my mother, and I love her."

"Even if she doesn't love you?"

I took in a sharp, shallow breath and looked away. I nodded my head. "Yeah, even if she doesn't love me."

"Then promise me that when you're with me, you'll be honest. You cut the crap. No games, no excuses, no hidin' behind anything, all right? If I'm bein' a jackass and you think so, then I want you to tell me. You be honest with me and I promise I won't ever use what you tell me to hurt you. Alright?"

I looked back to him and I knew there was no way that he was lying. He was showing me that he meant it by being completely open with me. If you asked me to explain it, I couldn't, but there was just something about him that felt honest. I could see it in his eyes. There was nothing being said, it was just silence, but I could hear him and I knew he meant it; he wouldn't use what I said to hurt me. I had waited so long to hear something tell me that and truly mean it.

"Okay. I promise that I'll try to be honest with you, I'll do the best I can."

He nodded his head. "Good," he said standing up straight, moving his face back away from mine. "That's all I want."

My breath staggered back into my chest with its even pace slowly, as I watched him leave the room. There was something about him that I couldn't quite put my finger on, but the more I thought of what had happened between us, I felt okay with it. I was okay with him knowing me, though I didn't know why.

That night, I lost a little more of my heart to him.

The next morning I woke up with a headache, a congested nose and a sore throat. I lay in bed, whining to myself and wondering where I may have caught a cold, until it struck me. I knew just where I caught it.

I got out of bed, stormed directly across the hall, and knocked on Logan's door. He opened it and I didn't wait for him to say anything. As soon as I saw him, I started.

"Look, I don't know what sort of seedy, dive bars you go to, but I really don't appreciate you standing in front of me, breathing your germs on me, until I catch whatever it is that you have."

"What are you talkin' about?" he asked, looking genuinely confused.

"You made me sick!"

"That's funny, he makes me sick, too," Scott said with a laugh, walking behind me down the hall. Logan responded with a low growl.

"I'm being serious. I have some sort of cold or virus and you've been the only person close enough to me to give me anything," I said.

"And what were the two of you doing so close that he gave you a cold?" Scott asked, pausing and turning around at the end of the hall.

"We were knockin' boots in the back of my car." I rolled my eyes. "You got a problem with me havin' a conversation with the kid without you jumpin' in on it?" he asked, a growl biting at the surface.

"I wasn't jumping in, I was being curious," Uncle Scott lied defensively.

"Curious my a-"

I held up a hand. "I'm still a girl you know? I'm not sure where I was when people decided that it was okay to swear in front of woman, but I would appreciate it if you didn't, okay?"

"Yeah," Logan agreed reluctantly.

He shot a look at Scott down the hall. "All right, I'm going," he said, turning back around and continuing down the hall.

"So, you're sick. How do you know it's my fault?"

"You were feeling well yesterday and you looked pretty rough, too-"

"Thanks," he said sarcastically."

"You wanted me to be honest with you." He smiled. "Anyway, I think you picked up some germ in a bar somewhere and instead of it dying in your body, since you technically aren't allowed to get sick, you gave it to me."

"Well what do you want me to do about it?"

I pouted my lips slightly. "I want you to make me feel better."

"How?"

"I don't know, if I knew I would do it myself." I sighed. "I'm going to see Jean and see if she can give me any drugs to knock me out until I'm over this. I just wanted to tell you that this is all your fault."

He laughed. "All right."

"I'll see you down at breakfast," I said, starting down the hall.

"If you're not too out of it to come."

"Hey, at least I won't care though, will I? After I get some medicine, I'll hopefully come eat, try to find some ice cream, then pile up in bed for the rest of the day and watch TV."

"All right, sounds good to me." I was nearly at the end of the hall when I heard him call me, "Delia-"

I stopped and turned around. "Yeah?"

"I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"That you're sick."

I smiled at him. "Thank you."

"See you in a little while."

I raised my hand and gave him a small wave as I walked backwards down the hall. "Bye."

"Bye darlin'."

I went down to the infirmary and it was empty. The lights were on, but no one was in there. I decided that Jean had probably just gone to breakfast and I could see her once we had both finished eating. I turned to leave and saw a row of three hospital beds lined up, against the wall. I knew it was irrational, but hospital beds creeped me out. They always reminded me of when my daddy was in the hospital.

I took a shaking breath and walked over to the one closest to me. I ran my hand over the side of the railing and felt an overwhelming amount of emotion run through me. I remembered the days I had spent watching my father, holding my hand to his chest and feeling his chest rise and fall with the help of a breathing machine. It was the only thing that moved as he lay still in his comatose state. I would lay in bed with him and press my ear to his heart so that I could hear its beat. Mother told me that people like them had hearts that sang, but only they could hear it. I would listen for hours, trying to hear the music that she said she heard while listening to his heart, but I never could.

I felt left out and alone and scared wondering if they had more secrets that they kept from me aside from what they heard when they were together. Over time, I found out that they did and that only made me feel ever more left out, alone and scared. When my father died, he wasn't the only one; mother did too. She left me that day in the hospital and I never saw her again. I had spent so much of my life busy worrying about not being alone, but what I never had time to really stop and realize, was that I already was alone.

"Hey, Scott said you were sick."

I turned and saw Jean. I gave her the best smile I could manage.

"Yeah."

"Come into my office and tell me what's wrong," she joked, sitting on a chair in front of one of the examining tables. I let out a sigh, walked over to where she was and sat down on the table. "So what's going on?"

"I woke up this morning with a headache and a stuffy nose. My throat's also killing me."

"Do you have a fever?"

I felt my forehead with the back of my hand. "I don't think so, but my hand could be cold."

"All right, I'll check it in a little bit. Any dizziness or vomiting?"

"None so far."

"When did you start noticing you were sick?"

"This morning when I woke up," I said. "I think I caught it from Logan."

She looked up at me from where she was writing on her clipboard. "Really?" she asked, quirking an eyebrow.

"No…not that way. We were talking last night and we were pretty close-"

"How close?" I put my hand up in front of my face to indicate where his had been. "And why was he that close?"

I let out a sigh and shook my head. "We were talking."

She smiled at me. "I'm sure you were."

"Don't even do that to me. You can read my mind; I give you permission. We did not do anything other than talk." And make life-changing promises. She quirked her eyebrow at me again. "Yes, I think he's hot and wouldn't mind grabbing him and making out with him for a while every now and then. However, aside from the fact that I look like a sixteen year old, dress like a seven year old and act like I'm forty, Logan still thinks you're hot."

"You look your age and there's nothing wrong with how you dress or act," she said, looking back down at her clipboard. "Besides, I've been in Logan's head a few times and he notices you more than you think. I hate to admit jealousy and would appreciate you not telling Scott that I am, but he finds you more attractive than he ever did me."

I looked at her skeptically. "I don't believe you."

She shrugged. "You don't have to. But like I said; I've been in his head a few times."

"Hm," I said. "So he's really attracted to me?"

She looked up at me and smiled. "Did you really not know?"

"My offer still stands from earlier; feel free to read my mind."

She contemplated the idea for a while before I saw her close her eyes and focus on me. I tried to relax and after a few minutes, her face went back and she opened her eyes to look at me. "Oh honey, you really had no idea, did you?"

"No, I don't know when people think I'm attractive or when they're flirting with me. I'm terrible at that sort of thing."

"Well, all I can say is that whatever this is; you didn't catch it from him. His body won't allow germs or viruses to live inside of him long enough for him to pass it on to someone else. And even if they did, you couldn't have caught something from him last night and gotten sick this morning. Colds and viruses need time to grow and spread in your body before you actually feel the symptoms and start getting sick," she said as she stood, went to her desk and found her thermometer. She came back and held it up. "Open your mouth and keep it under your tongue."

"So, he weally thinks I'm howt?" I asked again once the thermometer was in my mouth.

She laughed and set it. "Yes, now no more talking."