AUTHOR'S NOTE: The penultimate chapter! Expect the finale before the week is through :) Thanks for reading and reviewing. Love you all!

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

The flight to Minnesota was an early one. Kendall, Logan, Katie, and Mrs. Knight were all up and out of the apartment by 5:00am and were on their plane by 6:30. James and Carlos had opted to stay in California.

While the plane quietly hummed through the sky, thousands of feet in the air, Kendall and Logan sat next to each other, trying to keep themselves busy so that they wouldn't give in to the natural - and pressing - urge to embrace or just hold hands. The plane was crowded, so being openly affectionate with each other probably wouldn't have been a good idea. All it would have taken was for someone on the flight to recognize them as "those guys from that boy band" and spread it all over the Internet that they were a pair of queers, and Gustavo would have been on the phone with them in an instant.

Logan thought about Gustavo. They'd have to tell him eventually...but not now. Now, the only thing on his mind was Kendall and making sure Kendall was comfortable.

Kendall had his eyes closed and his head back, and his favorite Incubus album was being piped into his ears by way of his iPod. Logan looked up from his magazine at him. He looked so peaceful and serene...as if nothing was bothering him. Oh, but Logan knew that deep inside, Kendall was suffering all the pain that could be associated with loss and confusion. No matter how much Kendall may have said he hated his father, there was still that part of him that just wanted to please the son of a bitch. That part of him had never gone away, and now that Mr. Knight was dead...Logan wondered if it ever would.

The night before, Logan had stayed awake until he was sure Kendall was fast asleep. The feeling of Kendall in his arms...his abdomen going up and down with each breath...the warmth of his breath gently blowing over Logan's hand...his heartbeat vibrating through Logan's body. If Logan had ever had any doubt that he and Kendall belonged together, these things had erased it completely. He'd fallen asleep shortly after Kendall had, but he'd keep waking up on account of these nightmares he'd keep getting. In each one, he and Kendall would be standing at Mr. Knight's grave...and Kendall would be crying, but then Logan would kiss him. But then, Mr. Knight would dig through the dirt and grass, and he'd break out of his grave, and he'd attack Logan for making his son "not normal." Even on the plane, Logan was freaked out by it, but he kept on a brave face for Kendall.

Kendall's eyes opened, and he looked at Logan. He didn't say anything, but the eyes spoke volumes. They reassured Logan that they would make it through this...that this was just a trial they would have to go through. Their connection was strong, and their love was stronger.

Minnesota always felt like home. No matter how much time would pass between the boys' trips back to the Land of 10,000 Lakes, as soon as they'd step off the plane, it would feel like they'd never left.

The Minnesota summer was considerably much cooler than the California one, but Logan had easily adapted to that by wearing a light sweater. He was walking up a familiar street, on his way to a familiar house, and he felt chills going down his spine.

I'm here...and I have to do this.

Kendall and his family were all gathered at his aunt's house, and, after making sure Kendall would be okay, Logan had decided to do something he knew he'd have to do sooner or later. This trip to Minnesota was mainly for them to attend Mr. Knight's funeral and for the Knights to be with family, but it was also an opportunity that Logan had to take advantage of.

I'm going to tell my parents, he reminded himself when he finally reached his childhood home. I'm going to tell them about me and Kendall.

It was a scary thought, but he didn't know why. His parents were never like Kendall's dad. They were never overbearing or over-demanding or strict or stern or anything like that. His dad had been the near-perfect father. He'd always ask Logan about his feelings, he'd always make sure his little boy was happy and satisfied with life. His mother was a little bit of a nag, but what mother wasn't? She'd always done whatever that was needed to make sure Logan was a content little dork. There was no reason to believe that this wouldn't go over well.

He walked up to the front door. They were expecting him, but he hadn't really given them a time. So first, there'd be the surprised gasps and gleeful smiles. They'd hug, they'd kiss, they'd tell him he was so handsome. They'd force him into the kitchen and feed him something extremely fattening but extremely delicious. Of course, they'd express their sympathy for Kendall's loss and ask how he was holding up. Logan would tell them he was "taking it as well as to be expected." They'd ask how things were going for him in California, even though he called them every other day. He'd say things were going fine. Then they'd ask the question..."Have you found someone yet?" And he'd tell them...yes, he found someone. And that someone was Kendall.

"Oh, my precious baby boy!" Mrs. Mitchell exclaimed when she opened the door and saw her son standing there. The pride and joy were radiant on her face, and she grabbed him into a big hug. "Alan, come quick!" she called to her husband. "Hortense is home!"

"I do believe he prefers to be called Logan now," Alan Mitchell joked in that goofy, dorky, corny "dad" way when he joined them in the foyer. "Put 'er there, son!" He held out his hand for Logan to shake, but he ended up taking him into a big hug as well.

Just as Logan had predicted, he soon found himself sitting at the kitchen table with a plate of his mom's homemade doughnuts. California had changed his eating habits so much, but he forced two of them down as well as a whole cup of coffee.

"Oh, you're so handsome," Mrs. Mitchell squealed as she pinched his cheek and put the dishes in the dishwasher. Mr. Mitchell sat across the table from Logan and just shook his head.

"Why, he's a Mitchell. It's in his genes," he said, beaming. "You look just like your grandpa's World War II portrait."

Logan chuckled nervously. In the olden days, he'd loved all the attention his parents had heaped on him. Now? Not so much. It made him a little bit uncomfortable. Maybe it was the sting of knowing that maybe, just maybe, they wouldn't be so proud of him after all, once they knew the truth.

"Of course, we're very sad to hear about Kendall's loss," Mrs. Mitchell offered when she rejoined them at the table, her third cup of coffee in hand. "It must be very painful to lose your father at such a young age."

Logan nodded. "Yeah..."

"How's he holding up?" Mr. Mitchell asked.

"He's...taking it as well as to be expected," Logan said, hoping he'd remembered his line correctly. It was sometimes painful how predictable his parents could be.

"Well," Mr. Mitchell sighed, "with a best friend like you, I think he'll be okay. And, of course, he knows that he can come to us for anything, right?"

"Yes."

Mrs. Mitchell nodded in agreement. "I know he's probably overwhelmed, but see if you can try to get him to come see us before you boys are headed back to California. Jennifer, too."

"Will do, Mom."

Mrs. Mitchell nursed her coffee. Mr. Mitchell scarfed down his fifth doughnut. Logan twiddled his thumbs and wanted to shoot himself.

"So, how are things over in the Golden State?" Mr. Mitchell finally asked.

"Fine. Just fine," Logan replied very quickly and sharply, as if he'd been waiting and waiting and waiting for the question to finally be asked. "I mean," he said, hoping he hadn't been jerky, "it's fine. Things are really going great. We're on vacation for the rest of the summer, but we've been working very hard, and we have a lot of good things coming up in the fall."

"That's so great," Mrs. Mitchell squeaked. "We're so proud of you. We're proud of all of you, really, and every time I see you on a magazine cover or on TV, I can't help but smile. My little boy's all grown up!"

She was dangerously close to crying, but Logan hoped she would fight the temptation. There was a strange thing with him...any time his mother cried, it would make him want to cry, too. Even if it was for something as silly as a character dying on her favorite soap opera, if she was a blubbering mess, then Logan would be, too. Needless to say, his already-heightened emotions wouldn't have been able to stand a display of tears today.

"Tell us, son," Mr. Mitchell began, and Logan knew exactly what was coming next. "Have you found yourself someone yet?"

Logan squeezed his lips together and took a deep breath. Damn...he never figured it would be so hard.

"Oh, leave him alone, Alan," his mother suddenly said, surprising both he and his father. "He'll find a girl when he's good and ready to. He's a very busy boy!"

"Really, Joanna?" Mr. Mitchell asked, genuinely taken aback by his wife's cool comment. This was the woman who'd constantly email Logan pictures of her friends' daughters.

"Yes, really!" she replied.

Logan so could have used this as an excuse to not tell them. His mother had set it up perfectly, and all he would have had to do was concur with her statement. He'd find someone when he was good and ready. He couldn't have asked for an easier way out, and as his mother went back to the dishwasher and his father opened the newspaper, it felt as if he'd been handed a reprieve from the tough ordeal of coming out to his parents.

Think of Kendall, a voice from nowhere echoed through his brain. Think of Kendall. Are you going to deny your love for that boy? While he's in a world of pain, you're gonna sit there and stuff your face with doughnuts and act like you never loved him at all? Be lucky you have a chance to tell your father the truth. Kendall doesn't. Not anymore.

The repetitive voices, with their piercing words and truths, piled up in Logan's head to the point where he knew he had to just say something, anything, to segue into telling his parents the truth. His eyes went from his mother to his father, both of whom were focused on other tasks in that moment, but he just had to do something.

"Kendall," he blurted out, as if just saying the name would explain the entire story to his parents.

"That poor boy," Mrs. Mitchell sighed at the dishwasher.

Logan's eyes darted to her, and he was almost angry that she didn't just "get" what he was trying to say.

"He has Logan," Mr. Mitchell commented, never putting the paper down.

Logan just sat there, looking around, unsure of what he could possibly say next to get his point across. Of course, he could have just said, "I love Kendall, and we're together." Or he could have said, "I've been having these feelings for Kendall for years." He could have said a variety of things, but he couldn't. Logan was never the spontaneous person Kendall was, who, in the heat of the moment, could just put his feelings out there for everyone to see.

Then a thought crossed his mind.

"He does have me," Logan said as he mentally zeroed in on the perfect opportunity to reveal all to his parents without having to think of what to say. He got up from the table, which prompted a concerned look from both his parents, and he disappeared down the hall, presumably headed to his childhood bedroom.

He pushed opened the door and found the room just as it had been when he'd left for California. He went into a bin that was in the corner and rummaged through the science magazines and hockey trading cards (Christmas and birthday gifts from Kendall, of course), searching for one particular thing that he couldn't seem to find, but then he stopped and stood erect in the middle of the room. The memory of where he'd put it came rushing back to him, and he went under the bed, found the hole he'd poked in the box spring, and fished around in it until the piece of paper was in his hand.

After straightening himself out and dusting himself off, he took the paper with him back to the kitchen, where his parents were only partially concerned with what he was trying to do. With no introduction or warning or any kind of preface at all, Logan opened the folded piece of paper, which was starting to turn yellow, and read the scribbled handwriting.

"'Kendall slept over again last night,'" he read, which finally got his parents' complete attention. "'It was the tenth night in a row. That makes over a whole week he's been staying at our house. I don't want him to ever leave. I won't be able to sleep without him on the floor next to my bed. He makes me feel safe and protected, and I don't want him to go away. It's sad that his mom had to leave to "find herself," but it would be great if she just stayed away forever. Kendall is so sad, but I try my best to make him feel better. We play video games and talk about hockey, and sometimes we just talk about life. Late last night, I swear I heard him crying. I wanted so badly to get on the floor and hug him and tell him everything would be all right, but I knew I couldn't. My parents say that we're like brothers, but I don't think so. I think we're like something else. I think I might love Kendall. If only I could tell people that.'"

By the end of the reading, Logan had tears running down his face. His father's eyes were full of questions, and his mother just seemed confused. She took a few steps towards Logan and asked, "Logan...what is that?"

"I wrote this," he said, almost talking to himself as much as he was answering her, "when I was fifteen years old."

Mr. Mitchell slowly put his newspaper down. "Logan, are you trying to tell us something?" he asked, as if he was talking to Lassie.

"Kendall and I...we love each other. We've decided to be together."

The parents let it sink in while Logan came off the rush of reading his private thoughts aloud. He'd hidden that piece of paper before he and the others had left Minnesota. He would have brought it with him, but it would have been too risky to try to keep it in his and Kendall's room without Kendall finding out. He knew there was a possibility his parents could have found it, but maybe a part of him had wished they would have.

But that didn't matter now. He'd gotten it and read it to them, and now they were both standing there, staring at him as if he was an alien. And then his mother started giggling uncontrollably.

"Mom..."

"Oh, I'm just laughing," she said in a very ominous way as she went back to wiping off the kitchen counters. "I'm laughing at my silly little boy and his silly little thoughts."

"Mom!" Logan exclaimed, frustrated by her unclear reaction.

"You're being so silly, Logan," she said. "Kendall has a girlfriend. That girl, Jo."

"Not anymore! They broke up. She doesn't even live in California anymore!"

There was an anticlimactic silence in the room. Mrs. Mitchell had seemingly retreated to her own world of cleaning while Mr. Mitchell's mouth just hung open.

"I told him how I feel about him," Logan explained slowly. "And he told me. And...and the last few weeks have been incredible. Absolutely incredible. He loves me. He...loves me. He kisses me, and he holds me in his arms at night, and whispers in my ear, and he tells me the sweetest things, and...I love him."

Mr. Mitchell finally got it together enough to close his mouth and stop staring at his son, but he just rubbed his temples.

"Why?" Mrs. Mitchell asked, finally putting down her dish towel and turning to Logan, as if her questioning his feelings would be enough for him to deny them. "Why him?"

Logan didn't understand. Wasn't it obvious why he loved Kendall? Hadn't Mrs. Mitchell been witness to the extraordinary friendship the two boys had had? Hadn't she seen how happy Kendall had made her son over the years?

"I don't know!" he answered, annoyed by her being difficult. "Because! Because he was my first real friend! He was the first person who cared about me and took me seriously and made me feel special. That's why."

"I cared about you!" she told him. "And I did everything I could to make you feel special!"

"I know, Mom! I know! But I needed it from someone my own age! I needed a friend! And Kendall was everything I could have ever asked for."

Mr. Mitchell's temple-rubbing got deeper and deeper as the sounds of his wife's voice and his son's voice got louder and more passionate.

"So you have be with him?" Mrs. Mitchell asked Logan. "He's your friend, Logan! Your friend! So someone finally decided to be nice to you, to give you the time of day, and you feel that you have to go and be in a relationship with him?"

"It's so much more than that!"

"What else is there, then? What about the people who are going to discriminate against you? And the people who are going to tell you that you're a bad person and that you're going to hell and that you don't deserve to be happy? What about the people who will do horrible things to you?"

Logan began to weep. He didn't want to, but it was almost like a coping mechanism for him. Backed into a corner? Just weep. Weep, weep, weep. It was the only way for him to survive. "Don't you think I know all about that already? I think about it all the time!"

"Then you'll tell Kendall that you made a mistake," she told him, calming down. "You'll tell him that you were confused and that you can't be with him anymore."

"He'll do no such thing," Mr. Mitchell intoned slowly and carefully with a deep, deep voice.

Both Logan and Mrs. Mitchell turned to him immediately. His normal comical demeanor was replaced by one of the utmost seriousness. His eyes stared hard into the both of them.

"Does Kendall make you happy?" he asked Logan, his voice still deep and intimidating.

Logan just nodded. He didn't want to answer vocally because he knew it would sound weak and feeble. He just nodded and wiped away a few tears.

Mr. Mitchell evaluated him for a second, to make sure he was being as honest as possible. The last thing he wanted was for his son to go into anything that he didn't truly feel in his heart. But, as Alan Mitchell thought back on years past, it all made sense to him. He'd always wished Logan would find someone who made him feel special, someone who would take care of him and treat him with respect. He was always sad because it seemed like his son could never keep a girl's attention for long. But Kendall was always there. Always. And so it made sense to him.

"Okay then," he said, and then he put on that cheesy "dad" smile again. "That's all that matters, right?"

Logan didn't even know what to say to that. Was his dad really giving him his blessing? But wait...didn't Logan predict that this wouldn't be an issue at all for his dad anyway? He didn't even know what to think anymore. He looked at his mother, who was eying his father like he was the alien now.

"No, that's not all that matters!" she said to her husband. "Did you not hear anything that I said? Have you not seen the news? Bad things happen to those types of men all the time, and if Logan is like that, then that means there's a possibility that horrible things could happen to him, too!"

"Mom, the world has changed!" Logan pleaded passionately. He looked to his dad for support. "Things aren't the same as when you guys were kids. People have changed, and...and the world has changed, and things have gotten better."

"I don't believe the world has changed that much," she replied, crossing her arms as if she'd said her final words on the matter.

Mr. Mitchell just shook his head and looked down. "You know," he said. "I remember when we were kids. I remember that there were a couple of guys in our high school who were...well, it was pretty clear which team they played for. They were teased mercilessly. Every single day, some dumb jock would find a new way to pick on those guys. They truly made their lives miserable. But you know what else? They picked on me, too. I was the class geek. They bugged me for no reason, too, and it really bothered me."

"That's right," Mrs. Mitchell said. "You remember how horrible those kids were to you. And they only picked on you because you weren't a jock. They were much meaner to those other boys. Do you really think everything has just all of a sudden changed in thirty-five years?"

"What I do remember," Mr. Mitchell continued, "was that there was one person - just one person in the whole school - who really took the time to get to know me. This person wanted to make me feel special, and I felt this person loved me. And I loved her, too. And I married her."

Silence swept the room. Logan's beating heart slowed a little bit as he took it all in.

"I want you to be happy, son," Mr. Mitchell said as he stood up and put his hand on Logan's shoulder. "Please be happy."

"I will," Logan said, not sure how to read his father's very existential tone. He turned to his mother. "Mom, I'm not clueless to what's going on in the world. I know what it's like...I see it on the news just like you do. But when given the choice between living with that and not really living at all...I have to do what's right for me. I have to do what makes me happy."

Of course, she began to sob, and this caused Logan to sob, and even Mr. Mitchell began to sob. They closed in for a group hug, and then they started to laugh amidst the sobbing.

"I guess this is what they call a family quarrel," Mr. Mitchell quipped as he sniffed back a few tears.

"I guess so," Logan laughed.

The funeral wasn't as taxing as Logan thought it would be. As unfortunate as it was, it seemed as if not too many people in Kendall's family were truly torn up over Sean Knight's death. Yes, people cried, and there were lots of warm-hearted stories about the trouble he'd get himself into in his younger days, but no one broke down upon seeing him in the casket. No one yelled out in pain or screamed for him to come back. There was an overwhelming feeling of acceptance...as if Sean Knight was dead and everyone was okay with that.

Logan wasn't going to sit next to Kendall and the family, but Mrs. Knight insisted upon it, and so there he was stuffed between Kendall and an elderly female family member. Every now and then, he turned to Kendall, waiting for him to break down into a mess of tears, but it never happened. Kendall's face was still and focused throughout the entire service, and when it was time to head to the cemetery, he walked tall.

"Are you okay?" Logan asked him. He knew the question was such a cliche in situations like this, but it was really all he could ask. They were walking to the cemetery, which was a short distance behind the church, and they kind of hung to the outside of the crowd.

"I'm good," Kendall shrugged, his hands buried deep down in his pockets. "I don't know."

"What's the matter?"

Kendall sighed. "It just feels like...what now? After all this time I spent hating him and being scared of him, what do I do now? What am I supposed to think about anything?"

"Well," Logan began, trying his best to come up with something useful to say. "Maybe, if you think about it hard enough, there can be some closure in this."

"Closure? What kind of closure? Now I'll never have the satisfaction of knowing that I told him the truth. I'll never be able to say that I did that and got through it. I feel like a failure because I waited until it was too freaking late to man up."

"Kenny..." Logan soothed, subconsciously linking his arm with one of Kendall's and gently caressing it. Once he realized what he was doing, he jerked back.

"You could have kept it there," Kendall said quietly and calmly. "No need to pretend around family."

And so Logan slowly linked his arm back with Kendall's, but Kendall pulled his hand out of his pocket and took hold of Logan's, and they walked together as a couple to bury his father.

After the funeral, everyone gathered at Kendall's aunt's house. Friends and family filled the house, and the sounds of children's laughter was in the air. As nice as it was, however, Kendall had needed to be alone, and so he'd gone upstairs to lie down. Logan was left to mingle with the Knight family - his new family?

As he walked the halls of the house, he viewed the framed portraits on the walls. Pictures of Kendall's aunts and uncles when they were kids and teenagers, a very large group picture of at least 50 Knights, an adorable photograph of six-year-old Kendall holding baby Katie...even a picture of Jennifer and Sean Knight on their wedding day. He could hear the chatter coming from the other rooms - lots of storytelling and laughter. He wondered if he'd ever be a part of that. Would he and Kendall one day sit amongst the rest of the family and share their funny stories as well? Would there be a picture of Kendall and himself in a loving embrace adorning this wall? Would Logan one day be considered a member of this family, known to everyone as "Kendall's boyfriend" instead of "Kendall's friend?" He hoped so.

He scaled the stairs to go check on Kendall. Oh, how he hoped Kendall was feeling better. It hurt him so much to think of him in pain. He wanted to hold him close, but he knew Kendall needed his space, and so he was going to go upstairs, check to see if he was asleep, and maybe sit quietly nearby.

Just as he was about to open the door, however, Mrs. Knight came out and closed it behind her.

"He's asleep," she said quietly. "Sleeping like a baby."

Logan nodded. At least Kendall was sleeping and not just lying there thinking.

"I was just gonna sit with him," Logan said. "Hopefully be there when he wakes up."

Mrs. Knight nodded. "That's a good idea."

Before Logan could go inside, though, she stopped him. "Logan, I just wanted to say thank you again. I really, really, really mean it."

"Thank you for what?" he asked.

"For being there for him. For never leaving him or giving up on him. For loving him." She softly touched his cheek. "I can't believe how fast you two have grown up. I guess being back home really makes it noticeable that you aren't the two little boys who used to play Insect Hospital in my backyard anymore."

Logan chuckled a little at the memory.

"You're young men now. You're old enough to know what you want and make your own decisions, and that's a beautiful thing, Logan."

She stood for a moment and continued to rub his cheek, but she soon realized that she was getting too carried away with her emotions and withdrew her hand.

"I love him, Mrs. Knight," Logan said with a conviction that could never be faked.

"Oh, I know you do," she replied. "Why don't you go on in before he wakes up?"

She pushed the door open for him and let him in before disappearing down the stairs.

Kendall was stretched out on his cousin Brian's made bed. He lay on his stomach, and he faced a window that gave a view of a large tree outside. Logan quietly crossed the room to grab a small chair and sat next to the bed. Kendall's face looked so peaceful...so calm. A shock went through Logan's body when he almost thought that Kendall, too, was no longer among the living. But he knew that Kendall always slept like an angel. His blond hair was draped gracefully over his forehead, and pink lips quivered just a little with each breath the sleeping beauty took.

When his eyes opened, they were already staring straight into Logan's.

"Kendall," Logan said, not expecting him to awake so soon.

Kendall closed his eyes again, but he reached out his hand. Logan, always wanting to give Kendall what he wanted, took it, and Kendall drew him closer to the bed. He kissed Logan's hand, and he motioned for Logan to get on the bed with him.

"I don't think the door has a lock," Logan protested, thinking only of what was best for Kendall.

But Kendall just shook his head and jerked Logan's hand down, and Logan got the signal loud and clear that secrecy wasn't number-one on Kendall's priority list anymore. He walked around to the other side of the bed and slowly lay down behind Kendall. Kendall took Logan's hand and rest it on his own hip, and he settled down into Logan's embrace.

"Just lie here with me," he said. "Don't leave me."

NOTE: Kendall's dad is no longer a factor in his decisions, but he feels like a failure. Will Logan convince him to live for the future? Find out in the FINAL chapter of Fragments!