Disclaimer: If you don't know by now that I don't own the rights to Marvel or Fox, then what's the point of these things anyway? To take up extra space when I write a short chapter, now I remember! Yes, this is a short chapter, but I felt it needed to be this short, so I hope ya'll don't mind and please enjoy!

It was still dark out when I got out of bed. I went into the bathroom to take a shower and I was reminded of the first night I had spent with him. I was confused and unsure. I didn't know what to do with the information that I had seen nor did I know how to get my mind wrapped around it. The stress of the situation brought on a headache and I couldn't hold back my tears. I was so conflicted. I didn't know what to do. I had decided and promised Logan that once I finally understood why I saw him, I would leave. But I didn't know how I could. He was something I had never felt before. He was the only person with whom I had ever felt a connection. Other than the one time I had been scared of him, I had never felt safer with anyone else. He had done everything for me. He had taken care of me. He had protected me. He had been willing to, and had proven that he would, even kill for me. We had gotten mad, we had fought, there was a point where we hadn't even gotten along, but I didn't know what to do without him there. I was completely devoted to him. I didn't know how I could ever leave him.

I waited until I had stopped crying before getting out of the shower. I worried that if I turned off the water, he would hear me and I didn't know how to explain what I had seen. I didn't really know if I wanted to.

I got dressed in my jeans and a T-shirt. Then I brushed my teeth and dried my hair the best I could with my towel, before brushing through it with my fingers. I took my time, doing everything to delay the fact that once I got out, Logan would probably be awake and I would have to deal with him. I also wanted to make sure that I had my emotions in check. If anything was off, he was going to be able to tell. However, the more I thought about it, the more worried I became and that in turn, just made me nervous. I tried to take my time, but soon I didn't have anything else to do and just found myself standing there. I took in a deep breath and then let it out. That was it. I couldn't delay it anymore.

I left the bathroom and sure enough, Logan was awake, sitting up on the couch. "You're up early," he said, looking still half-asleep.

"Yeah, I had a vision that woke me up and I thought I might as well get a head start on leaving."

He looked up at me. "What'd you see?"

"Different stuff," I said vaguely.

"Everything alright?"

I plopped down on the edge of my bed. "Yeah, I'm just ready to get out of this place."

"You sure that's all?"

I shrugged. "I've got a lot on my mind."

"Like what?"

I thought for a moment, searching for something to say. "What would happen if I didn't figure out why I see you? I've been with you for over a month, you've been gone for over two, eventually you're going to have to go back to New York, right?"

"I said I wouldn't leave you until you figured this out."

"But what happens if I never figure it out?"

"Then I guess you're stuck with me," he said with a wink.

I gave him a small smile. He cocked his head to the side and stared at me with a quirked eyebrow. "What?" I asked.

"What happened to your arms?"

I looked down and saw the faded bruises. "Oh, um…they're from where you grabbed me," I said sheepishly. "They're starting to go away."

He kept staring at me. "I did that?"

"Yeah, they don't hurt, though. Not anymore."

He furrowed his brow in thought and anger. Then he shook his head and sighed. "I'm sorry Jayden."

I smiled. "I think that's the first time you've called me by my real name without me having a vision first. It's nice to hear it while I'm not crying or unable to breathe."

He smiled faintly at me. "I am sorry, I didn't mean to do that," he said, looking truly sorry.

I looked in his eyes. I was so confused about what to do. I didn't want to leave him, but I didn't know how I could stay. He had a life. He had a home. He had a family. I could just stay with him forever. I had to let him go back at some point.

"I know you didn't," I said. "You want to get out of this place? I'm starting to get hungry and I want to get as far away from here as possibly before we stop."

"Yeah, let me get dressed and we can leave."

I had to let him go back to Marie.

We drove for four hours before we stopped. We had been driving north, getting as far from there as we could before our hunger got the best of us. We pulled over at a place he insisted had great barbeque ribs. He was right.

"This is just something you shouldn't eat on a date," I said, licking sauce from my hand.

"How many dates you been on?"

"Well…none, technically. I wasn't really allowed to have a boyfriend until I turned eighteen. I've been a little busy since then."

"I've noticed," he said, taking a sip of his beer.

I raised my eyebrow at him. "I thought you didn't spend your time noticing what I did with mine?" I asked with a smirk.

He laughed and smiled at me. "Yeah, well, I ain't got nothing better to do, now."

I tucked the hair behind my ears and looked over at the TV hanging in the corner above us. "The game's back on," I said, nodding to it. A hockey game was on and we had been trying to catch the end of it. It was two local teams playing against each other. It was the third period and they were tied with three goals each. "You know, I wanted to play hockey when I was younger."

"Really?" he asked, pushing his plate away and leaning back in his seat.

"Yeah," I said, pushing away my own plate and cleaning my hands with my napkin.

"Why didn't you?" he asked, taking a sip of his beer.

"My parents wouldn't let me."

"Why?"

"They didn't want me to play any type of sports. They were afraid I would get hurt. Also, it's not very 'proper' for a girl to play something that rough."

"Well what did they want you to do?"

"They wanted me to be a cheerleader, or something."

He smirked at me. "A cheerleader? Really?"

I rolled my eyes and through my wadded up napkin at him. "Shut up. I wasn't one; they just wanted me to be one."

"Whatever you say, kid," he said, a smirk still plastered across his face.

"I used to hang out with them and they were…idiots, and snobs, and I hated them. I would honestly just as soon as chewed my own arm off before becoming one myself."

"If you didn't like 'em, then why'd you hang out with 'em?"

"Because my parents wanted me to. They knew their parents and…I don't know. I wasn't allowed to have any other friends. All the people I wanted to hang out with were the 'wrong sort'."

"Do they let you do anything?"

I shrugged. "Yeah, it's just stuff that they want me to do."

"Why don't you do what you want to do?"

"Because it's always been easier for me to just do what they wanted. I knew that eventually I was going to get out of there and I could do what I wanted then, and these past two months, that's what I've done.

"Do you like your parents?"

"Yeah, I love them."

"No, do you like 'em?"

I shrugged again. "I don't know. I'm a teenager; I'm not meant to, am I?" I said with a bit of a forced laugh.

"Are they good to you?"

"Yeah," I said, my chest tightening with anxiety. Talking to him was hard and awkward after my vision. I wanted to joke and forget about it, but when our conversation turned serious, I couldn't hide my tension. "They're a little tough, but they just want what's best for me." I let out a sigh and looked at the TV. It had gone back to commercial. "They're my family. After the disappointment of meeting my real mother…they're the family I have, they're who I know. They've raised me and whether I like or agree with them or what they do, they've taken care of me. So yeah, they're good to me."

"Are you happy with them?"

I looked back to him. "No."

"Have you ever been happy?"

"For a little while, yeah. Have you?"

"Yeah."

"When?"

"With Jean." I nodded. "I gotta' go make a call, alright?"

"Yeah."

"I ain't gonna' be long."

"Okay."

I watched him go to the payphone back by the bathrooms, pick up the receiver, insert change and then dial a number. I knew he was calling Marie. I felt the most jealous of her right then. I had always wanted Logan to care about me like he did her, but he didn't. And I knew he never would. She was his family; I was just some kid he picked up in an ally.

My head was spinning. I was scared and confused. Nothing had ever seemed so complicated in my life. I had made a huge decision when I had packed up and left home to chase after a man whom I had only seen in my visions. But I had bled with him. Hurt with him. Cried with him. I felt like a part of him, and it was easy for me to go after him. And once I found him and he didn't want anything to do with me, it took me a while, but ultimately, it was an easy decision to go find him once again. But leaving him, that thought stung like a deep cut. It hurt down to my bones. I weighed the pros and cons over and over in my mind. I had to keep reminding myself between what was really right and what was only what I wanted.

Logan was a lot of things to me. He was happiness. Anger. Love. Hate. Need. Want. Clarity. Confusion. He was a cold shower in Canada during the winter. He woke me up, made me feel alive, and pissed off every inch of me. But I couldn't do anything about it. I couldn't scream. I couldn't say anything because although it hurt, I had something with him that I had never had with anyone else. He was my connection.

I watched him on the phone for about five minutes, at that time he hung up and came back to our table. "You done?" he asked.

"I uh…I have to go to the bathroom, and then I'm ready to go."

"Alright."

"You can go ahead and go to the truck if you want."

"Okay, I'll go get the heater started."

I nodded my head and stood. "I'll be out in a little bit," I said, heading back towards the bathroom.

Once I was through, I exited and stood by the payphone, waiting to make sure that Logan had really gone out to the truck. As far as I could see, he wasn't there. I picked up the phone, dug out the change from my pocket and inserted it into the base. As I began to dial, my hands shook as I pressed the numbers. When I was done, I took deep breaths to try to calm myself as I listened to the phone ring on the other end. Then an answer.

"Hello?"

"Dad, it's me, Jayden."

I heard a deep sigh of relief. "Honey, are you okay, is everything alright?"

"Yeah, I just have to ask you something important."

"What?"

My heart felt as if it both sped up and stopped at the same time. It ached. My head pounded and I was having a hard time breathing. I shook my head. Just go ahead and do it, I thought. Stop hurting yourself. It's what's best.

"Can I come home?"

I had never felt my heart break before, but there was no other way to describe the pain I felt right then other than that.

We drove for almost seven straight hours, only stopping for bathroom breaks or to get something to drink. Once we found a motel and stopped, it was past six in the evening and starting to get dark. Together we hauled our bags through the rain to our new room. I had become accustomed to staying in motels over those few weeks and I learned that Logan and I both had somewhat of the same routine. Go in, find a place for your bag, and then immediately remove the bedspread. I had never met anyone else who had as much distaste for those things as I did until him. I couldn't help but smile a little every time I saw him do it. That night was an exception.

"You feelin' alright?" he asked.

"Yeah," I lied. "Why?"

"You've been actin' kind'a funny today," he said, taking a beer from a grocery bag and popping it open before taking a sip of it.

"Funny how?" I stared at him from the edge of the bed that I had claimed as mind. I was nervous and doing everything I could to keep from shaking.

"You seem a little jumpy."

I shook my head at him as he sat down at the small table in the half kitchen. "I think I'm starting to get sick, actually. I think this stupid rain is finally catching up with me."

"Why don't you lay down and sleep for a while? You got up before five this mornin', that might have something to do with it."

"Yeah, that sounds like a good idea. A nap might do me good."

"I'm fixin' to leave; do you want me to get you something to eat before I go to the bar?"

"No, I think there's some chips left over from earlier and a jar of peanut butter in one of the bags somewhere, so I think I'll be alright."

"You sure?" He stared at me. He knew I was laying, but he wasn't calling me on it.

Please don't leave me, I thought. I need you to stay here with me. Please. I wanted to beg him to not go to the bar. I wanted him to see that he couldn't leave me. That there was something wrong with me. I needed him to see my begging him with my eyes.

"Yeah, I'm sure."

I needed him to see it because I knew I couldn't say it.

He stared at me for another moment longer. He shook his head and ran his hand back through his hair. "Alright," he said standing. "I'm gonna' go."

"Okay."

He finished his beer and threw away the can before pulling on his blue jean jacket and then his leather one. "I'll see you when I get back."

I gave him a small, sad, smile. "Yeah." I watched him walk to the door and open it. "Logan," I called out before he left.

He turned around. "Yeah."

"Uh…" My heart was pounding. "Be careful, okay? Just…just be really careful tonight."

"Yeah, I will," he said. "Bye."

As soon as I saw the truck leave, I broke down in tears. That was the last time I was going to see him and I had been too scared to tell him that I loved him.