A/N: It's been seven years since I started this story. At the time I began this, I had grand visions for a connected universe that I dubbed "Marvel Rebirth' with its own Earth number designation. I was in high school then, getting ready to head into my senior year with so much time on my hands. It's also been three years since I updated this work, having been stuck on a plot point and not having the drive to try and write my way through it. For any and everybody that's favorited, followed and reviewed this story, I thank you. It's been a journey. So, I hope you all enjoy the final installment to Wolverine Rebirth: Origins.

Weapon X Facility, September 24, 1962

James sat staring at the metal door to his holding cell. His senses were working their hardest, collecting every bit of information around him. It had been several days since the man from Department K had spoke with him and possibly more since James' bones had been bonded with the odd metal that he could smell through his pores. He hadn't had an opportunity to test out his new claws, aside from the time he had broken his shackles and his cell was immediately gassed. The chemical agent overwhelmed him and before James knew it, his brain had briefly shut down. The next thing he knew, he was strapped to the wall, this time with electrical cables strapped to him.

He hadn't been fed this entire time, leaving his body's natural healing factor and stamina to keep him functioning. He could hear people outside of his cell walking around or talking about him. It made him angry. James wanted to see his family. He hoped that Mariko and Little John were still alive and well. As soon as he was let loose from his cell, he'd try to find their scent. They had to be ok. They were the only things holding James' mind intact.

The clicking of heels rang in Howlett's ears and the man adopted a scowl as he waited for his cell door to be opened. The locks click and James heard a chirp and hiss as the door began to open. James took in a deep sigh and bore his teeth. As the door cracked, his nostrils flared and he caught the familiar scent of the man from Department K. In his hand, he held a large black metal briefcase. He fixed his glasses and smiled at James.

"Mr. Howlett," he said. "I trust that you're well?" James snorted.

"Where's my family?" he snarled. The man from Department K chuckled.

"Ah, straight to the point." He raised his hand. "Don't you worry, James. You will see for yourself how your family is faring. However, they won't be permitted to leave until you complete your portion of our agreement." The man's briefcase fell to the ground and he turned to the guards outside. "Please let Mr. Howlett down." The guards approached and removed the clamps and cables from James' arms and legs. James fell to the ground and rubbed his wrists.

"What is that?" he asked, his eyes darting to the briefcase. The man from Department K smiled.

"Open it." James tried his hand at opening the case but found it to be clamped shut. His blue eyes glared at his captor. An idea sparked in James' head and he unsheathed a claw. He winced slightly from the pain. Immediately, he heard guns cock and point at him. Howlett stared down the barrel of a M-16.

"You mind telling these fucks I'm just opening the box," James growled. After a brief glance from their boss, the guards lowered their weapons. James jammed his metal claw into the box and slowly slid it to the side and opened the box. What James found inside wasn't at all what he had initially suspected it would be.

Inside, there was a brown and tan costume of indeterminable fabric. James picked up a glove, that had metal grooves on the knuckles where his claws would come from. He sniffed it and then looked at the man from Department K.

"The hell is this?" James asked. "What do you want me for?" The man from Department K smiled.

"There's a large level of civil unrest happening in Yemen currently. A coup has caused a usurper to be placed on the throne and a massive civil war is brewing. That presents us with a particularly golden opportunity." The man began to pace. "For years, I have searched the world for people like yourself. Humans with exceptional abilities and through my studies, I have determined where the progenitor of your kind originates as well as his location. He is known in English as 'The First One' and I need you, James, to find his tomb for me."

James frowned. "Then what?" James' captor folded his arms.

"A few more qualified men will enter and retrieve what I desire," he said. James snorted and slowly stood to his feet.

"You want me to nosedive in some godforsaken war-torn country looking for a damned mummy? Bullshit. Why send me?" The man from Department K grinned.

"Because you have every incentive to do what I tell you. The lives and freedom of your family hangs in the balance. You will find the tomb of The First One and I will let you all go free," he said. "Now, put on your suit." The man from Department K and his guards left the holding cell, closing the door behind them. James growled and slammed his fist against the wall. He was genuinely stuck between two opinions. He knew that he could slaughter his way out of this place. He had done it in other places. But he couldn't risk losing Mariko and his son. James could almost sense that Dog was sitting with them, waiting for the smell of blood or the sound of struggle. He couldn't do it.

For once, James had found something that mattered to him more than his own life.

When James had finished putting the tan and brown suit on, the man from Department K smiled at him. The look sent a warm slither down James' spine. He frowned and held the brown and tan helmet in his hand. "Well? When do we get this shittrain rolling?" he asked.

Sana'a, Yemen, September 25, 1962

Fires raged in the city below. James could faintly hear gunfire beneath the sound of the plane rotors. "Things are starting to heat up down there!" the pilot said. "Damn coup going on."

"Doesn't matter. You keep this bird in the area. I'm going to be in and out in about an hour," James said. When the pilot gave a nondescript shrug, James twisted his lips and sighed softly, holding his fist to his chest. I'll be back for you, Mariko. John. I promise. He stared out of the open side of the plane, the sands illuminated by small sparks of gunfire. After a deep breath, James stepped out of the plane. The cool nighttime desert winds whirled around him as he descended, plummeting towards the ground head first, twirling in the night.

James quickly searched for a soft spot in the sand, realizing quickly that there was no such thing. As the ground drew closer, James closed his eyes as he crashed into the sand. Though he felt the pain of his fall, he surprisingly didn't feel a single break of his bones nor a fracture. Groaning as he picked himself up, he found that he wasn't even bleeding. James blinked in shock. A fall of ten thousand feet and came out with neither a scratch or a broken bone? What had they done to him? James resolved himself to find the answer once he was finished his mission and his family was safe.

The mutant moved quickly through the desert, the city of San'a over the rocky hills. James rolled down, before stopping behind a rock. There was a buzzing in his ear and James frowned, swiping at it. He thought he heard a voice, but it was far too static filled. He ignored the static, thankful when it died off and continued down the hill, sniffing the air and staying on high alert as he heard the ricochet of bullets and the screams of men dying.

When the coast was clear, James moved forward and ascended a building that overlooked the city square, an old rustic mismatch of marketplaces and homes. The fighting was further off, closer to the urban sprawl of the newer skyscrapers, which was fine with James. He had had enough being shot at.

He traversed the desert city, using the moonlight and his enhanced eyesight to guide him. Looking around, he saw an enormous old building, one that the Man from Department K had told him of. There were carvings on the side, in a language that James didn't recognize. If it was even a language to begin with. James recognized Arabic for the most part and from the characters he did see, it didn't look like it to him. Something about this place smelled stranger the closer James grew to the structure, yet it was still familiar to him. It almost smelled like the blue ore from the concentration camps in Poland.

An explosion blew James backward, flipping him head over heels until he landed on his neck. He felt half of his face was missing until the tissue, muscles and skin began to sizzle back together. Groaning, James stood up and found himself surrounded by a small group of soldiers in desert brown uniforms, aiming their rifles at him.

"Min 'ant ya klb?" one of them shouted.

"Tabayan lana yadik!" another said.

James' frown deepened. "I don't know what any of you are saying, but I'm telling you one thing. You better get those damn guns out of my face or…" One of the men fired directly into James' forehead, crashing into his skull with a metallic ding, sending his head back and laying him out on the ground. He snarled and slowly rose back to his feet as the bullet was pushed through his skin. "You're going to regret it." He drew his claws and the soldiers gawked. James cut through one man's arm and rifle before moving like a shadow to the next man and plunging his claws into his chest, blood spurting onto his lips and bare teeth before pulling back and watching the rest of the soldiers run away. They'd run and tell their commanders of the beast man who ripped apart their comrades and it would take them little time to come investigate.

The mutant followed the strange scent into the old building, sniffing around the outside pillars holding the structure up. The stench was alluring and foreign and grew stronger the closer James drew to the door. He placed his hand against it and then pushed. It was heavy and appeared locked causing James to frown. Then, he looked down at his hands and drew his claws. They glinted in the moonlight before disappearing in darkness as the clouds covered them overhead. His bones were durable not to break after falling ten thousand feet. How strong and sharp were his claws?

James jabbed forward into the door and heard his claws slide clean through. He smirked and jabbed forward with his other hand and cut a small pathway for himself into the building. When he was inside, the shock of the smell hit him and nearly dropped him to his knees. Decay, rotten flesh and dust scents floated in the air. From the stench alone, James could only guess that it had been hundreds of years since anyone had come here. And for good reason.

The skin on James' arms began to peel away, only to be fought off by his healing factor as he walked forward. It itched more than it hurt but the further James walked in, the pain intensified and his skin began to rip away at a quicker rate. James winced and stopped, frowning. Why had he been sent in here?

I can heal. And if I do actually die, I'm disposable. And so is my family.

His family. James kept their image in his brain as he pressed forward through the cursed structure, shrugging off the meat on his shoulder and stomach disappeared as he got to the end of the long hallway. Enormous statues stood above him, ancient structures holding swords in their hands that crossed over a large door. James could see the blue writing carved around the molding of the door and up and down the swords. He wished he could understand what they said. If he could have some context…

En Sabah Nur yadae huna...The First One lays here, a voice in his head said, seemingly answering his request. Laenat aladmihlal ealayh waealik...The curse of decay is on him and you. La yajuz fath albab...the door shall not be opened.

James stepped back, gulping. He didn't understand what he was seeing or hearing but he felt fear set in his stomach. A fear of the unknown that he had never felt before. In all of his brushes with death, he had always been certain that he would conquer it but in this moment, this point of weakness staring at a door that had been sealed by some force that was beyond him, all he wanted to do was turn back and run. He had finished his mission, in essence. He had found the tomb.

He turned and walked around, tapping his suit to notify whoever had dropped him that he needed an extraction. A high chime echoed throughout the building and James stopped. He heard something crack. A small rock fell from the ceiling towards his head and James moved out of the way and looked up. Dust was falling and more rocks followed. The roof was collapsing.

Got to be shitting me, James thought as he gathered himself and ran towards the exit. The rocks continued to fall as the building caved glanced behind him and he could've sworn that he saw the stone swordsmen shrink and move to stand in front of the tomb, guarding it. Before he could he register whether he was dreaming or not, a large stone slammed against his head, leaving him groggy and he crawled towards the hole he had carved for himself. His suit continued to chime and he thought he could hear a responding chime in the air. The plane was com—

James reached his hand outside of the hole just as the pillars collapsed on him, burying him underneath the fallen building. Dust infiltrated his lungs and in his struggle to breathe, all James could hear were the words from the tomb, namely, "The door shall not be opened".

Why? What was down there…?

Weapon X Facility

When James woke, he felt himself being dragged with talons dug deep into his flesh. When he looked up, he saw his half-brother grinning down at him with exposed canine teeth.

"Wake up, runt," Dog Logan snarled. James tried to squirm away but he couldn't feel his arms or legs. He heard his brother laugh. "You've been injected with enough poison kill a blue whale, Jimmy. It'll be a long time before you'll be able to move and I'll be having a lot of fun with you."

James growled in his throat and tried to sniff around. The sterile hallways offered him no scent and no clue. The most he smelled was a cleaning agent and Dog's own unique stench. He strained underneath the grip of his talons until a door hissed open and James looked up to see his wife and infant son, cooing quietly in her arms. His eyes widened.

Mariko. John, he thought. He turned his head up slowly to look at Dog, casting him a sharp and threatening glare. Dog grinned again.

"The boss says you fulfilled your duty and you can see your family," Dog said. He then grabbed James' by the back of his head and slammed him face down. "But that's all he promised you."

"James, no!" Mariko shouted.

Dog barked in her direction and turned back to James. "I've been waiting all this time, Jimmy. And I'm finally free to do what I want without restrictions. So I'm going to make you watch as I rip them apart." James groaned, twisting his lips as he tried to curse at Dog but no words would form. Instead, he tried to force his body to move. Dog growled and threw him against a wall.

James collapsed against the floor and could barely pick his head in time enough to see Dog stalk towards Mariko with his fingertip talons extended. Growling savagely, James tried to force his body to move towards Dog. Towards the wall. Towards anything at all. But he couldn't move at all. Only his eyes followed Dog's every move as he raised his clawed hand and Mariko stared past him into James' eyes.

Her body fell and James saw four long red gashes through her throat that nearly severed her head. And he heard his son wailing. Dog reached down and picked him up by his heel, grinning at James. "And now for this little squealing babe." As Dog swung his arm back, James felt the heat leave his body. There was a small crack against the wall and Little John fell limp to the ground, his little head bloody.

The world went red.

Heat returned to James' body, the feeling returned to his limbs and he became intimate with the monster he had tried so hard to hold back in his mind. He drew his claws and launched himself, roaring at Dog. His half-brother's first swing sailed over his head and James sliced through Dog's groin like a piece of wet paper before bringing his other hand into his throat. Dog coughed and gagged, attempting to fight back. His talons dug into James' eyes and scraped away, leaving him blind.

As his eyes healed, James fought via scent and hearing, smelling Dog's increasing fear and heightened heartbeat near his neck. He opened his mouth and bit down, pulling with his sharpened canines at the hole he had left on Dog's throat. He heard his brother curse and throw him away. James ricocheted against the wall and landed on the floor with the agility of a cat and springing forward with equal ferocity.

James pinned Dog against the wall and ripped into his chest cavity, stabbing wildly until all he heard was the slippery gush of wet flesh against his claws followed by the sound of metal. When he backed away, panting, he saw that he had carved a hole through Dog and his half-brother's knees buckled as he hit the floor.

The door hissed open and James turned around covered in blood. He saw the Man from Department K standing in the doorway with armed guards, his face as still as flint as he observed the scene. James growled at him and dropped into an attack position.

Then he paused and turned his heard.

On the ground, completely drenched his Dog's blood, a small figure moved, cooing softly before he let out a loud cry. James' eyes widened. Little John is like me… He reached down to pick up his son, then felt searing back in his spine that put him down on his stomach. When he looked up, he saw the Man standing over his son and looking him over.

"Extraordinary…" he said softly. James growled at him and snarled. The Man looked down at him and aimed a revolver at his head. "I believe you've done all that I need from you, Mr. Howlett. Goodbye."

The last thing James saw was his son's blue eyes open to stare into his before the sound of the gunshot sent his world into darkness.

Abandoned Building near the West Coast, Near-Future...

James' eyes burst open and he stared around in a wild fervor, his teeth bare. He pulled against his restraints, roaring as loud as a wild animal as his mind shot back to the present. His eyes set on his capturer, who looked at his computer screen and nodded.

"Excellent. It's all here," he said, smiling. He looked back at James, his face a twisting maw of excitement. "All that I've been searching for all this time. Here, in front of me…"

"You're him," James said. He was fishing, of course. He remembered the Man from Department K's scent and it came from the person standing in front of him. "You bonded the adamantium to my bones. You stole my child and killed my wife." James' anger was simmering. "What's your name, bub?"

The man seemed to ignore him, continuing to type at his computer. James silently sucked his teeth and flexed his arm muscles. He remembered how the volts of electricity had hurt him when he tried to extend his claws before. The desire to escape then had only been a natural, animalistic one. But now, the man who had destroyed his life in more ways than he had realized was in front of him. Anger burned in his blood, seeming to boil over into his brain as he felt the switch flip on.

James' fist clenched tightly and his claws extended. The electricity sparked loudly, flooding through his body and bones but he ignored the pain, embracing the berserker rage that shut of his brain. As he pulled from the machine, his captor turned around, shocked. James' flesh ripped from his forearm underneath his wrists, blood splattering to the metal floor as he pulled himself free, howling in rage as he fell.

The man was frozen as James approached with his claws drawn, the flesh reattaching itself to his arms and he drew closer. James felt the fire cool as his berserker rage faded. He stood half-naked in front of The Man, growling.

"You have three seconds to tell me where my son is," James said. "And if I were you, I wouldn't test me. I've had a hell of a time."

"I'm sure," the man replied. "As far as I know, your son is somewhere in South America, not that that information will assist you in anyway." James' ears perked up. He could hear slight rumblings in the sky above, remembering the tracker in his suit.

He felt a gentle presence weave it's way into his mind. "Logan! Are you there?" He felt his heart swell at the sound of the voice. Only two people in the world had managed to get past the psionic barriers in place in his mind. The man who created it, Professor Charles Xavier and...

Jean, he thought. I'm here.

"Really? And why do you think that?" James asked. The Man pulled out a pistol and aimed at James' head.

"Because you won't remember this at all." The smell of adamantium hit James' nose and he moved faster than the Man could pull back the trigger and drove his claws forward into the Man's stomach, before sliding his arm upwards into his chest. He stared into the Man's eyes.

The roof peeled apart and thunder clapped in the sky. James looked up and saw a fraction of the X-Men descend from the roof to the ground. Jean Grey helped Scott Summers float to the ground like the pansy he was and Ororo used a twirl of wind to bring herself to the ground. James nodded to his team then looked back at the Man.

"How you feeling, bub? Was this all worth it?" he asked, pushing his claws further into the Man's chest. He coughed up blood and for some odd reason, he smiled.

"Of course it was. I found him. I can awake him. And when I do, you and all you know will be subject to his almighty power." The Man grabbed James by the wrist and the mutant growled. "By the way, James, your past isn't all that I learned from you…" he said. He slowly pushed James' arm back while the rest of the X-Men watched. When the claws were clear, James was frozen in wide-eyed awe as the wound closed and the blood stopped. When he looked back at the Man, he saw only a smile.

With s flick of his wrist, the Man threw James back with a telekinetic push, launching him into Jean and Scott. James felt himself get caught and lowered and saw Jean attempt to grab the Man.

With what seemed to be barely a shrug, the Man got out of her control and raced along the metal catwalk towards an exit. Scott aimed with his visor and a red beam blasted a part of it away. The Man was barely impeded as he leaped into the air towards the other side. James growled and looked at Jean.

"Throw me," he said. Jean frowned then nodded, lifting him up with telekinesis and tossing him past the breach. He could see Ororo follow him as she summonses lightning from the sky and blasted in front of the Man to slow him. James crashed down behind him, silent as he raced forward in his attempt to catch up.

The Man made it into a small corridor and turned, grinning as James ran forward. "You wanted to know my name, correct? Hear it loudly, James. My name is Nathaniel Essex and I promise you, when you're ready to find me again, I'll be ready," he said, closing the door behind him.

James attempted to dig his claws into it, only for them to bounce back. Frowning, he spat. Adamantium. Whoever this man was, he had a lot of access to the metal. If he was going behind an adamantium door, then James was certain it was a surefire panic room. A panic room in a hidden facility meant…

"Aw, hell…" James muttered.

"Logan?" Jean said. "Am I reading your thoughts, right?" Jean asked. James nodded and Jean turned to Scott. "Blackbird, we need immediate extraction."

"I am on it, freunde!" another voice said.

In a black whoosh, Jean and Storm disappeared, followed by Scott. James looked around the building quickly, searching for any clues that would be worth taking before he felt himself get snatched into the void and land in the cargo hold of the modified SR-Blackbird. He crawled to the window and looked out, watching as the facility and the surrounding ruins were engulfed in flame, a plume of smoke launched into the hair. The fire was so scorching that James could feel the heat, burning what he had experienced from his past just not from his memory. He rolled over and laid on his back and let out a deep breath.

Nightcrawler stood over him, a long, lanky dark blue shape that spoke prayers over him as he laid with his eyes closed. Hank McCoy, the Beast, piloted the plane and James could hear the ruffling of his fur as he turned his head. The others talked about what they saw, their voices fading as James found himself lost in the now crowded arena of his mind.

It took him a while to realize that he knew everything, at least up until he found the tomb in the sixties. He could remember everything from his childhood to the wars had fought. He almost grinned, realizing that he had fought alongside Captain America in the past. He had saved Erik from the concentration camp he was in. And when he opened his eyes and looked at Jean, he could see the striking resemblance to Rose…

But most importantly, he had a son and he was still alive.

Mutant Utopia, San Francisco Bay, California

"How is everything holding up in there, Logan?" Jean asked, as her hand passed over James' face. He sat on the edge of a bed in the infirmary, trying his hardest not to let his irritation be shown on his face. Scott had strongly suggested James rest before he heard a word about what James had gone through and he had begrudgingly accepted. In the wake of all they had suffered in the past few years, James had no interest in petty squabbles anymore.

"I'm fine. Just ready to get this debriefing over with. I've got some things on my chest," the hirsute mutant grunted. Jean chuckled softly.

"You haven't even taken a full day to recover from your mental wounds, let alone the physical. When's the last time you've eaten?"

"It's been a little bit. But I've gone longer," James replied.

Jean shrugged. "That has nothing to do with right now. You should eat," Jean said. Again, James grunted but he headed to the small fridge and pulled out a plastic wrapped sandwich and applesauce. He ate it quickly and looked at Jean. Concern was plastered on her face.

"What?" he asked.

"You seem different." Her green eyes were sad. "What did he do to you?" James looked away and sighed.

"Took me down a road I didn't want to see again," he said. He looked back to Jean and she looked as though she were ready to cry. "I'll be fine."

"I know, it's just…" she paused and shook her head. "Come on. Scott should be ready."

James followed Jean into the Senior Conference Room, on the upper levels of the new mansion. Inside the room, Ororo, Hank, and Scott sat in a circle surrounded by large computers. Scott nodded to them both, casting a veiled looked to Jean before turning his head to James.

"Now that we're all here," he said. "Logan?"

James sighed softly. "I don't know how long it's been, but I was on my way here after handling things in the Midwest when I could smell a group of hunters tracking me down. I fled to an abandoned building and laid a trap, only I ended up being captured by a man named Nathaniel Essex. He used a machine forcing me to relive my past up until a certain time because he was searching for the tomb of some ancient being called En Sabah Nur, one that I found in the sixties in Yemen," James said before pausing. He looked around the room and then continued. "I'm not sure exactly what he plans to do but I remember feeling the energy in that room and it felt powerful and alien."

"Perhaps this Essex intends to incite an invasion?" Hank suggested.

"With the tomb of En Sabah Nur as the beacon…" Scott said.

James sniffed. "I don't know...but it's not good, whatever he plans on doing. There was another step, one that required him going to Egypt, I think but that's all I remember from that."

Scott nodded. "Thanks, Logan," he said. "I'm sorry you had to go through so much but now we know why. We have to find Essex and stop him before he's able to enact the next phase of his plan."

Ororo rubbed her chin in thought and then smirked a bit. "I might have a connect back home that could help with that."

"Oh? Who?" Scott asked.

Ororo seemed to be stuck in memory land because when she answered, her eyes seemed to be a bit glazed. "A pretty powerful childhood friend," she replied coyly.

Scott nodded. "Good, so we'll have some kind of support. I'd hate to go in blind." He stood up and looked at everyone, as far as James could guess. "Storm, contact your guy and see what preparations can be made. Hank, you're with her. Logan, Jean and I will…"

"I'm not joinin' this one. Not yet," James said. Jean turned her head quickly and raised an eyebrow.

"What do you mean?"

James sighed. "The end of the world may be comin'. Who knows? I just...can't finish this life I've lived if I don't make some things right. And that means tracking down my lost son. I made him a promise and I intend to honor it before this all goes to shit."

The X-Men all looked at each other and James could almost smell the outpour of sympathy from them. In times past, it would've made his stomach turn but who he saw now was the only family he had ever truly had, despite the hiccups and loss of their father. And he knew they'd support him.

Scott was the first to speak. "Your absence will be missed but I won't stand in your way, Logan. Family is all we have. Go find yours." There was a universal nod of agreement and James felt his heart swell. He wasn't one for emotions, but for a brief second, he thought he would give Scott Summers his tearful thanks.

Instead, he gruffly grunted and stood to his feet. "Don't y'all get the world blown up without me," he said as he left the conference room. He grabbed his brown and tan leather jacket from his room and made his way outside, only to be intercepted by Jean.

She stood at the doorway, holding something small in her hand, using the other to move her hair behind her ear. "However long you're gone, take this tracker. Somebody will be able to find you and know where you are. It's silent so no one, not even you can hear it and it'll blend in with your smell, I suppose. Hank has been working on it specifically for you."

James took the tiny device, rotated it in his hand then tucked it in his pocket. "Thanks, Jean," he said. The fiery redhead looked him up and down, then she hugged him.

"We've lost enough family, Logan. Please be safe," she said.

James hugged her back with his one free arm and said, "I make no promises." When Jean had stepped aside and let him through, James stepped outside into the fresh, warm air of spring. He could see the Golden Gate Bridge in the distance and he could hear the sounds of children, mutant children playing. Skyscrapers and towers on the island, created through the combined power of some of the mutants that lived here and the genius of Hank, dominated the skyline where a few mutants flew. This was their safe place, a utopia in a world of collapse, a place that Charles Xavier hadn't dreamt of but wished for in the days before his death. This was what James had been seeking to get to for these past few weeks, only to leave again on another mission.

But this mission was important. As James jumped onto his bike and rode down the hill, passing through the barrier, his mind went to his old family and the promise of his return to his son, John. James didn't know where the boy was or what he was doing. But he knew that he would find him.

I'm coming, Little John. I'm coming.

The End