A/N: I know it's been awhile, but I have the new—and finally—chapter of "BTA"! I have to say I'm very excited to give you the conclusion to this story. It's my second longest fanfic to date, so obviously I've invested a lot of time into creating this story, but I'm rather happy with it. This fanfic has actually been the most organic writing process for me than any other of my fanfics. A lot was changed and revised from the original draft, but I'm glad I made the choices I did.

The songs that inspired this chapter are:

"White Flag" by Dido

"I'm Not Over" by Carolina Liar

I really like both of these songs because they both pertain to love, but in tone they're very different. I love "White Flag" by Dido, because it's not your typical "love" song or even break-up song for that matter. It's about realizing you screwed up a great relationship and wishing you had a second chance, because let's be honest, don't we all want a redo from time to time? It's a good song that captures Logan's feelings in the first half of this chapter. Plus, I like the lyrics "I will go down with this ship", because I will go down with the Kogan ship! :P

Then Carolina Liar's "I'm Not Over" soundtracks the second half of the chapter pretty nicely. Initially, it was a different song by a different band that I used, but then I played "I'm Not Over" and it seemed more suitable and just made sense.

Anyway I hope you all enjoy the final chapter of "BTA" and I want to reiterate my appreciation for all your continued support and, most of all, patience! I'm also very excited to start work on my next fanfic (I have a few others in progress, as well). Without further ado, please enjoy "Revelations and Possibilities".

When I return to the Palm Woods, I head into the elevator to take me up to Camille's floor. My mind involuntarily takes me back to when I was in here last with Kendall. I think of that kiss… I think of how his soft lips pressed against mine. The elevator chimes and the doors open with a few residents staring at me. I then realize they're simply politely waiting for me to get out so they can board.

I step out and head to Camille's apartment, 4J. I stop in front of her place and before I knock, I pause. Why exactly did I think this would be a good idea? What would I even say to her? I decided to come here because I'm feeling low, but Camille and I haven't spoken since the other night when she caught Kendall and me making out in the elevator.

I figure I need to try my luck regardless. I owe it to Camille. I can't bear to leave our friendship on bad terms—I've basically already done that with Kendall… So I knock on her door with bated breath.

The door opens. Camille looks surprised upon seeing me, but the surprise turns into a frown. It breaks my heart seeing her in pain, especially now that I understand that pain. I understand what it feels like to love someone you can't have. But I temporarily bury my own pain, because right now it's not about me. It's about making amends with Camille.

"Remember me? I'm the jerkface that broke your heart," I try joking. It fails, because Camille's frown doesn't budge.

"What do you want, Logan? I'm pretty busy," Camille says in a tone that's far from her usual animated self.

"I just wanted to talk to you."

"I'm not much for talking these days."

"Camille… can I please just come in?" I plead.

She looks as though she's deciding but eventually opens the door.

We step into her apartment, which for some reason seems lifeless, like all the colors have been sucked out. I remember her apartment being much more colorful, lively and quirky. Then I realize that she's taken down a lot of framed photos, most of which were of me. I can't say that I blame her.

We sit down on her couch, but she doesn't look at me.

"Do you hate me? 'Cause I hate me," I announce to finally break the silence.

She finally gives in and rolls her eyes and relaxes her frown.

"No, I don't hate you, Logan Mitchell. Maybe just strongly disliking you right now and will be making false lies about what a bad kisser you are."

I smile. It's reassuring she's still got a spark of that Camille spirit and sense of humor left in her.

"So are you saying I'm a good kisser?" I ask playfully.

"No, of course not! Okay, fine, you were pretty good…"

I smile proudly.

"Exactly how good?" I probe.

"I'm not talking about this anymore, Logan Mitchell!" Camille laughs and playfully hits me with a throw pillow.

We briefly laugh forgetting for a short moment how complicated things have gotten. I try to imagine a happy life with Camille. She's beautiful, funny, and smart. What's there not to love about her? But somehow it's not enough. As much as I love her, it can never be what she wants. It will never be what she deserves out of a guy. My love for her is something entirely different than my love for Kendall. There are no words or labels for my feelings towards Kendall. It's not logical, it's psychological.

The laughing ceases as if the reality washes over both Camille and I.

"Kendall and I… we aren't together anymore," I disclose to Camille. "I'm not sure that we ever really were, to be honest."

"I'm sorry to hear that," Camille says in a low sympathetic voice. I flinch.

Camille is apologizing to me? Shouldn't it be the other way around? I was the scumbag in the relationship, not her.

"You are…?" I ask hesitantly; I fear somehow it's some sort of a bitter girlfriend test of hers.

"Yeah, I am," she chuckles without humor. "Why are you so surprised?"

"Well, honestly? I did cheat on you," I say candidly. The word "cheat" is hard to say aloud, especially to Camille of all people.

"Yeah, don't think I've forgotten," Camille says bitterly. "I mean, what you did was awful but I know Kendall is someone very important in your life. I always knew. Even the blind could see how much he means to you."

I didn't realize my affection for Kendall was so transparent. I guess I've always loved him in some form.

I simply give Camille a small smile. I don't have a response to her comment. Kendall is important to me. She knows this, I know this, but I don't need to add salt to her wound by talking about how much I love Kendall.

"You know, for a scorned girlfriend, you're pretty amazing, you know that?"

"Yeah… I know…" Camille says unabashedly.

We share a laugh, but then I ask why she's come to terms with my affair with Kendall so easily.

"You and I didn't make sense from the start," she begins. "We were always on and off, and even when we were 'on', I always felt a distance. I suppose a part of me knew you weren't in love with me the way I was in love with you. I guess I just convinced myself you'd come around."

I look at her—she's perfectly human and vulnerable right now. She's not in character rehearsing for an upcoming audition. She's simply herself. There's a stab at my heart when I think of how I've hurt her.

"Camille, I'm really, really sorry. I should have been honest with you. Actually, I should have been honest with myself. Maybe if I had, we could have avoided anyone getting hurt."

"I'm not mad at you anymore. Don't get me wrong, I was. I mean, like, I was really, really mad at you. I even went to this weird gypsy shop and got a voodoo doll that looked like you and—"

"Okay, Camille," I politely interrupted. "I get it—you were mad at me. Can you forgive me?"

"Yes, of course. Besides, I've always wanted a gay best friend," she teases.

I roll my eyes, but smile at her. I'm glad that Camille still wants my friendship, because I still want hers.

"Oh, I'm sorry! You said you were busy. I hope I'm not taking up your time," I apologize.

"Nah… I just lied hoping to get you to leave," she says sticking out her tongue. "What about you though? Why are you here when you should be fighting for Kendall? I mean, what was the whole point of everything you had with him if you were just going to throw it all away?"

Her words linger, because Kendall said something similar last night, about how love sometimes is worth fighting for. Then something ignites in me—like a spark that has been rekindled.

I feel it. That burning passion every time I think of Kendall. It never went away, it's only simmered because I had convinced myself I'd lost him to Jo, but the truth is, I need for him to know I can't live without him. I don't just need him in my life, he is my life.

"You're right," I say in revelation. "Camille, I have to go find him…"

"Go to him, Logan," Camille advises me.

I run out of her apartment, but then I stop and turn around. I run back to her and give her a tight hug.

"I love you," I say softly as I embrace her.

"I know you do. It'll just never be the way you love him," she acknowledges with tremendous grace yet a shade of sadness. She truly deserves better.

She smiles at me with tears brimming at her eyes and motions her head towards the door.

"Go!" she tells me.

I smile and release her from my grip and run into the hallway. I run and yell for someone to hold the elevator. I make it to the elevator too late so I run down the stairs back to the second floor. I charge through the hall, bolt through the apartment and throw open our bedroom door.

The room is empty.

Kendall's half of the room has been cleared. My clothes sit alone in the closet that we had once shared. I scan the room breathlessly and see a piece of paper lying on my bed. I pick it up and read it.

Logan,

As much as it kills me not to see you one more time before I leave, I respect your wish. You said you aren't good with good-byes, but maybe that's a good thing. Maybe it doesn't have to be a good-bye, just a 'see you later'. You'll always be in my dreams. I love you more than you can understand.

Kendall

I sink down onto my bed, trying to catch my breath, but not from running down all those flights of stairs, but from losing oxygen at the thought of losing Kendall. I tightly clutch the note in my hand until it starts feeling numbing from the restricted blood circulation. I'm angry at myself. Why did I let him go? He was right. Camille was right. Love is worth fighting for. Even if it's a twisted love affair; if it's love—real, all-consuming love (because honestly is there any other kind worth living for?)—then it's worth the fight.

I force my knees to straighten and I stand up tall. This is me fighting. I'm not ready to give up. I feel that burning fire inside me ignite again—scorching, really. My body sprints, as if possessed by some sort of magical force, compelled to run towards Kendall without rhyme or reason.

I run pass Bitters in the lobby as he shouts something at me. Probably something along the lines of "slow down", but I don't even bother registering what he's saying. I'm doing anything but slowing down; my heart races, my veins pump, my muscles strain, my chest heaves, my body lunges forward. I yell for a taxi but the driver doesn't hear me. I crash into the side of the cab when I can't slow down quickly enough.

The cab driver is clearly startled, but I fling open the door and jump in before he can drive off away from my madness. He turns around looking at me with worried and anxious eyes. I scream for him to take me to the airport and before he can protest or tell me to buckle up, he steps on the gas, probably out of fear that he may be driving a deranged teen hopped on drugs.

I grip onto the back of his seat, supervising his driving, which feels still too slow even though he's going well over the speed limit. I obnoxiously command him to swerve through traffic and run a few lights that barely turn red. He keeps his eyes on the road, but occasionally glances into the rearview mirror to see his crazy passenger.

I know I should relax and cut the driver a break. He's going as fast as he can and I can't physically do anything while I'm sitting in the backseat anyway. I just feel nauseatingly impatient and anxious. I keep wondering if I'll be too late, or what if I already am too late? I hate the feeling of not having control or knowing the outcome of a situation. It's frustrating, but I have to remind myself to relax because I've already sweated through my shirt.

I try relaxing my stiff shoulders and take in deep inhales. We pass a few places that Kendall and I went to during our secret dates. I miss him even more. I smile at the prospect of seeing him though. This is the first time in my life when I'm throwing caution to the wind and really living with perfect clarity. During the affair, I kept torturing myself with my guilt. I by no means condone my actions or think what I did was just, but I can't change how I feel about Kendall. Not even my guilt can prevent me from seeing him. I now understand that Jo wasn't the obstacle, it was my own conscience that I had to overcome to reach Kendall.

I look up and see that we've made it to the airport. We continue to swerve around cars that move too slowly for our agenda. But we come to a halt when a line of cars are stopped at the curbside of the airport. I realize this is where I must continue by foot, so I thank the cabbie, throw a few twenties at him, not even bothering to get change, and hop out of the cab.

I maneuver my way through the crowd of people, and run into the airport. I instinctively start taking off my belt and shoes and emptying my pockets before I even reach the metal detectors to save time. I grab my belongings in the plastic bin and run to a nearby destination board. I quickly scan it and see the only flight heading for Vancouver. Fuck! It's already boarding!

I run towards the gate in hopes that Kendall hasn't boarded yet. What if he has? I have to stop him though, right? I've come this far, I can't just turn around and go home just because he's already boarded the plane. I don't care if I look like a madman; I can't let him take off.

I weave through agonizingly slow moving people. I get dirty looks and angry mumblings from all sides, but I choose to ignore them. I wipe my damp forehead, hoping Kendall will forgive me for looking so disheveled. I stop running for a brief moment and look around to find that I'm only a few gates away. I resume running again, accidentally bumping into someone's carry-on. I apologize this time but my legs don't slow one bit—if anything they move even faster. You're almost there! I encourage myself.

I finally make it to the gate, after what feels like a marathon run. I run for the gate door, when the gate attendant stops me.

"Sir! Sir! I'm sorry but the gate is now closed," she informs me. "You can go to customer service and see if they can book you a later flight."

"No, you don't understand, I have to talk to someone on that plane!" I protest.

"I'm sorry, sir, but we cannot allow that," she says firmly.

"If you'll just please let me through, it will only take a few minutes," I plead to the gate attendant.

"Sir, I don't think you understand. The plane has already taken off."

My head immediately turns to the glass windows to see the plane that Kendall is on ascending. I'm too late.

My racing heart finally comes to an abrupt stop.

"Oh," I exhale in defeat.

My now watery eyes remain fixed on the airborne plane—the plane sending the love of my life over a thousand miles away from me.

I continue to watch the plane move further from me, until it's no longer visible to me… and I continue to stare into the blue sky, maybe secretly hoping it will somehow magically turn around for me.

"Is there anything we can do for you, sir?" the gate attendant asks of me.

I finally remove my gaze from the glass windows and turn to her. I barely register her words, but I mumble a weak "no thank you" and walk off—to where, I'm not sure. My purpose is lost on me.

I walk aimlessly through the airport, with no sense of direction or guidance until I somehow make it outside into the warm air. A taxi immediately stops in front of me, clearly trying to pick up a customer. I get in barely acknowledging the cab driver.

He asks me something; probably where I need to go. I mumble "the Palm Woods", even though I'm not entirely sure if he asked that of me, but either way the taxi begins to move and the airport blurs behind us, like a fading memory…

I sit in the taxi, only this time I'm in no particular hurry. I feel numb. I can't even produce tears. It's like my mind and body has given up on me. All that keeps plaguing my thoughts is that I was too late.

I was too late.

I was too late.

If I had figured out how much I need Kendall in life sooner, then maybe I wouldn't have been too late. I threw away the one chance of us starting fresh.

The taxi comes to a halt and in the silence I can hear the engine run. I sit in the silence, listening to the rumble of the engine because I don't know what else to do with myself at this point. The cab driver clears his throat in attempt to bring something to my attention. I look up and realize that we have arrived back at the Palm Woods. When did this happen?

I see that the cab driver is impatiently holding his hand out for his cab fare so he can ditch me, move on and pick up a new passenger. I decide then and there that I like the first cab driver better—even if he did think I was nuts.

I open up my wallet and pull out what's left of cash there is in it. Fortunately, there's enough to cover the fare. Unfortunately, there's not much left to tip the driver. I generously and carelessly gave most of my money to the first driver, leaving this driver with a paltry tip. He looks annoyed and I know I should get out now before the cab fare goes up any more.

I walk in the lobby and people part way for me. I must look so depressed and pathetic to them that they let me go by. Even Bitters looks like an eternal optimist next to me right now.

No one gets into the elevator with me, even though a few of them were waiting before I got there. I ride the elevator up alone to the second floor.

I stand in front of our apartment, 2J, with no desire to go in. What's the point? I only moved here so I could continue to be with Kendall but now he is no longer here. I feel a pain course through me and filling my heart. The numbness is clearly gone, but somehow I still can't cry.

I miss him. I miss him more than I thought I could humanely miss a person.

I sigh and bury the pain, because it'll do me no good. I still have to carry on and live my life with or without Kendall. It's just proving more difficult living the latter.

I get into the apartment and it's empty. It feels empty. I can feel the gaping void. It's odd how much a single person can carry such a significant presence in your everyday life. Of course you never realize it until they're actually gone.

Even though I know seeing a half-empty room where Kendall's things belonged will only sadden me more, all I want to do is go into the room, curl up on my bed and sleep through the whole day. I open the bedroom door and my heart and breathing stops simultaneously.

It's Kendall.

He's sitting on my bed. He's been waiting for me. He looks up upon hearing me enter the room. His green eyes bore themselves into mine and then all the surge of emotions that I've forced myself to contain floods me. I'm elated, confused, ashamed, and terrified all at once. Tears cascade down my face profusely. He instantly runs over to me with a concerned frown and holds me. I grip onto him like he's oxygen. I cry against his shoulder as he hushes me and tries to pacify my absurd crying.

I pull him away from him, not because I don't want his embrace, but only because I have to know why he's here.

"W-what are doing here? Your plane…" I stammer through my strained voice.

"I never got on the plane," he tells me.

Something about his tone is new to me. I expect there to be some regret or fear in his voice—him thinking that he had made the wrong choice or a choice with deep consequences in coming here. Instead, his voice doesn't hold those nuances; it holds a confident and almost revelatory tone.

"Why not?" I ask like an ignorant fool.

"You know why, Logan."

And then before I can say anything else, his lips are on mine.

I feel it.

I feel it all.

Every beautiful thing that a human can feel courses through me in a heavenly way. We don't need words. We never did to communicate. Our love spoke for itself.

Our mouths mold together like they were designed to be as one. I don't want to be anywhere but here with Kendall—kissing him, loving him.

Our lips part, deepening our kiss. He's as delicious as I remember. His hand slides down to my lower back and he pulls me against his body. My hands roam around his neck. I pull at the hairs at the nape of his neck and then run them through the rest of his hair. My heart swells in size to the point where I feel it could burst like a thin latex balloon at any moment.

When we realize we're mere mortals and still have a need for oxygen, we pull our mouths carefully away, but we never stop holding each other. I look up into his eyes, trying to figure out how I have someone so magnificent and wonderful in my life.

He smiles at me. Then he places a hand under my chin and plants a gentle and small kiss on my lips. It's tender, but as impassioned as any kiss I've felt.

I look at him and curiously ask, "What now?"

He gently shakes his head and replies, "I don't know. We have nothing but possibilities."

I smile. I imagine all the endless possibilities with Kendall, because quite frankly, there is no one I can think of that I would want to experience all of life and love with than him.

He kisses me again and I think back to all the obstacles we've faced. It was has been a struggle to finally get to this point, but then a revelation hits me: it can only get better from here on out...

Hope you all enjoyed this story! Please review and keep an eye out for future Kogan fanfics! ;)