This is it, people. The final chapter.

This is also the last time I will be able to publicly thank from the bottom of my heart all of my readers- those who have stuck with me from the beginning, those who have been silently enjoying the story, those blessed souls who left reviews and sent PMs and kept me going. And thank you to those readers who perhaps stumbled on this story later on, and stuck around long enough to get to this point. Basically, if you are reading this, THANK YOU. It has been an absolute adventure.

Also, I must send out a HUGE thank you to my personal friends and family, who have supported me through the entire thing, even if they didn't quite understand why I was so obsessed with the Once-ler. Your love and support means worlds to me.

And finally, a thank you to all of my teachers- from elementary to college- who told me to never stop writing.

Dear readers, thank you. I leave you with this final chapter, and hope you sincerely enjoy it. It's been wonderful.

P.S. I've been wanting to tell you this from the beginning, but Cindy's sketch book is in the movie. The Lorax. A burnt orange, spiral bound book. Watch it again and see if you can spot it- it appears twice, by my count. Good luck!

Music: Okay, so we're doing this slightly differently than normal, because I have a lot of feelings and this only works if you listen to these songs in the right places. This chapter is split into three parts, so there will be a song for each one, and then an ending credits song.

For the first section: Where's Hiccup? from the How to Train Your Dragon soundtrack; Second section: Romantic Flight from the How to Train Your Dragon soundtrack; Third and final section: Funeral for a Tree from the Lorax soundtrack; End Credits: This is Home by Switchfoot (best version is the one found on the Prince Caspian soundtrack).

Chapter Twenty Six

Where I Belong

And now, after all my searching

After all my questions

I'm gonna call it home

I've got a brand new mindset

I can finally see the sunset

I'm gonna call it home.

-This Is Home by Switchfoot

It was just like him to put trust in someone he barely knew.

Once-ler paced back and forth in the cramped space in his Lerkim, mind racing. Did he really just give up that precious seed to a young, pretentious boy? He remembered how it had felt, burning in the palm of his hand, and at the moment, there wasn't a shadow of a doubt that he should give it to Ted. It really felt as if he were giving Ted a piece of him… a piece of his heart, his soul, who he was.

And then, with a promise not to let him down, Ted rode off on his motorbike. With the seed. Gone, perhaps forever.

Once-ler sat down, then sprang up again in irritation. "The boy doesn't even know how to plant it!" he grumbled to himself. "What was I thinking?"

He paced around some more, then sat back down, exhausted. He'd had fifty years to wallow in his guilt and self-pity. He didn't need this to rest on his conscience too.

But… Once-ler wasn't going to plant the seed anyway. He knew that. He'd thought about it every day since Cindy gave it to him, but couldn't bring himself to do it. He destroyed everything he touched. How was he supposed to plant a tree and expect it to grow? He was terrified he would kill it.

So Ted was the only option.

Then why did he feel so restless?

He sucked in a deep breath, then let it go. His eyes wandered to his little table, where only a few significant objects lay. He laid them there as a kind of shrine to his past. First, his ax. The ax he had used to chop down the first tree. Then, Cindy's burnt orange sketch book. It had given him comfort more than once over the years, and every time he saw it his heart twisted in conflicting emotions of longing, heartache, and glimmers of hope. Maybe one day she would come back to him…. Honestly that was the only thing that had kept him alive all these years. The idea that at any time, any day, Cindy could appear at his doorstep…. It gave him hope.

But he also realized it would be for the best if he never saw her again. He didn't want her to see him like this—holed up in this dark, dank tower, his optimism rotted away to cynicism. He was a grumpy, knarly old man now. He barely recognized himself as the man he used to be.

And finally, the gifts Ted brought him. The fifteen cents. The ridiculously old snail. He had to admit, it was nice to have someone around to keep him company, even if it was an old snail.

Once-ler leaned forward, and gently touched the cover of Cindy's sketchbook. It was hard to remember exactly how she looked now. The details were fading away, the memories becoming fuzzy. But the sketches she drew… they were still the same. They didn't look any different. They connected him to her, even if the last time he saw her was fifty years ago. It was a symbol. A symbol of how some things never change. A symbol of when they first met on that day in Whoville.

Oh, how he wished he could go back and change things! Once-ler began to feel the old pain that started afresh every day begin to gnaw away at his insides again. He would never be able to get over that guilt. Losing Cindy. Destroying the forest. Betraying the trust of the Lorax. The list went on.

He had dealt with this pain too long to cry anymore. He'd done enough of that. So he took the pain, feeling it pick and scratch its way from the inside out. He dropped his head in his hands, letting the silence except for his pounding heart take over.

And then he heard something else.

All despair and guilt halted for a moment as he strained his ears, trying to listen.

There it was again.

What was that—the wind? No, a voice.

Voices. Singing.

He scrambled to his feet, peering out through the boards on his window.

He'd spent years looking out that window, in the direction of Thneedville. Wondering what was happening over there. If the people still hated him.

If Cindy had moved on.

If she'd ever visit.

As day after day brought about the agony of disappointment and shame, he soon boarded up the window, refusing to ever look out of it again. Of course, that didn't hold up very long, and he still found himself peering out once in a while. But it always looked the same.

Except for now.

Now, there was something over there- towards Thneedville. It was a strange glow. He could hear the swell of voices grow louder, and he could take it no longer. He had to see.

Grabbing his ax—the very ax he had used to cut down the first tree—he hefted it in his hands, hesitating a moment before taking it to the boards. The wood had started to rot, so it didn't take long to hack the boards away until the window was clear.

He leaned his body forward, daring to let his entire head stick out. It was a strange, exhilarating feeling. But that feeling was overshadowed by feelings he couldn't even describe as he looked on at the strange glow in the distance.

It only took him seconds to figure out what caused the glow.

The wall. It had been torn down.

And the voices—they were people singing. He wondered if Cindy was with them. He wondered what was happening.

But he thought he knew. And for the first time in years, tears sprung into his eyes. But they weren't tears of pain- they were tears of joy, he realized.

He managed a small smile, and said quietly, "Thank you, Ted."

For he had no doubt now that the boy had brought about some change in Thneedville. And he was confident it was a good change.

He had made up his mind.

He was going to Thneedville. He had to see what had happened. He had to see Cindy, if she was still there. Or alive, a small part of him whispered, but he shoved it away. He couldn't consider the possibility. Not now.

But one thing was for sure. He was tired of being a hermit. He wasn't just going to die out here, alone and unaccounted for.

He had few belongings, but he stuffed them in an old bag anyways. Then he cradled Cindy's sketchbook under his arm, and took a deep breath. He was doing it. He was leaving this old dump.

He was about to step out the door when he heard the rumble of a car engine in the distance. He froze, then set the bag and book down, racing for the window. Maybe it was Ted…?

The engine stopped not too far away, and the air was overly silent without it. He looked out his window.

At first, he saw nothing.

Then, a figure slowly came over the hill. Once-ler peered closer, trying to determine who it was. She shuffled closer, and Once-ler realized it was an elderly woman. But… who would be coming this way…?

Unless….

The emotions that hit him were so strong, he nearly collapsed to the floor. As it was, he hid out of sight, leaning heavily against the wall.

No, wait. Maybe he wasn't ready for this. He wasn't ready to face her. He never would be.

But… she was out there. He knew it was her. And she was finally coming to see him.

His heart was hammering so hard, he didn't know if he could stay alive long enough for Cindy to get here. He began shaking, and peeked out the window again. Yes, she was still steadily coming towards the Lerkim. No, he wasn't imagining it.

Fifty years. It had been fifty years. He'd imagined how he would react to her coming. He'd imagined it in a thousand different ways. He'd tried to decide on what he would do if she did ever come.

All of that flew out of his head now.

He glanced out the window one last time, then bolted.

He stumbled down the stairway, and threw open the door. He stood there a moment, feeling the wind ruffle through his clothes. He'd almost forgotten what that felt like.

He didn't think he could run anymore, but he did anyway. He took off.

But he wasn't running away. No, he was done with that.

He was running straight towards Cindy. Where he belonged.

She saw him coming. He heard her suck in a breath of air, and pick up her pace, a grin stretching wide across her face.

When they collided, he didn't care that they were old and fragile. He wrapped his toothpick arms tight around her. Could this really be happening?

He felt her shaking. He couldn't tell if she was laughing or crying. He didn't even notice the tears that were streaming down his face now. "You came," he whispered into her white hair. "After all these years, you finally came."

"Once-ler." Her voice was softer, but not as smooth. It hitched, and when he drew back to look at her, the reality of just how much time had passed hit him.

But her blue eyes were still there. And she was still beautiful. He grinned at her, then dared to reach out and push a strand of her hair out of her face. "Cindy," he whispered.

No words were needed. No explanations, no apologies. She wrapped her arms around his waist, and he held her. He would hold her for all of eternity. Because he never stopped loving her. And that love was as strong as ever.

"I'm going out to water the saps!" Once-ler called into the recently remodeled kitchen.

"Remember not to drown them!" Cindy called back. He could smell the cookies she was making in preparation for Ted and Audrey's arrival later that day.

Once-ler chuckled, grabbed the watering can, and stepped outside. He paused just outside the door, taking a deep breath of the air that was already clearing.

The day was a spectacular one. The sky was blue. He never thought he'd ever love a color so much. He could hear little birds chirping around him. It was a beautiful day to be alive.

Passing the Unless stone, he began to water the little Truffula saplings that were now nearly a foot tall.

A shadow flew over him, and he paused, turning to look to the sky, shielding his eyes from the sun. His heart did a joyful flip flop when he realized what was flying through the sky and coming right towards him.

A swomee swan.

It swooped past him, and he watched it go, feeling an aching glow of happiness. Perhaps… perhaps all his friends would return. Not just the swomee swans, but the humming fish, and barbaloots too.

He felt a strange tingling on his neck, like an approaching presence. He again turned, and was met with a beam of light slowly forming above him. Hope clutched at him and wouldn't let go. He watched, transfixed, as the beam of light grew stronger, and a small figure appeared, floating down to earth.

He didn't say a word. He couldn't. He'd lost all ability to speak.

The Lorax landed right on top of the Unless stone, a grin making his moustache bristle and eyes shimmer.

Seeing his old friend standing there after all these years was too much for him. Not knowing what to say, he burst into a goofy laugh, reaching his arms out to the guardian of the forest. He leaned down in front of the furry creature, who nodded with a pleased "humph."

"You done good, Beanpole. You done good."

He'd done good. Good. Not bad. Good.

Once-ler's excited smile softened at the Lorax's words, and he sunk all the way to his knees. Without a word, he wrapped his arms around the little furball, feeling him stiffen for a moment, then relax and return the hug. Once-ler held him tighter, letting his head dip down and shoulders relax.

He never imagined he would miss the Lorax so much.

He pulled away, letting his hands rest on the Lorax's shoulders as he stared at the little creature. He had so much to say… but in the end, perhaps it was best if they left the past behind them. He stood, grabbing his watering can.

The Lorax gave an amused grunt, which turned into a full on laugh. "By the way, nice moustache!"

Once-ler chuckled along. "Yeah, Cindy won't stop teasing me about it either."

The Lorax's eyes widened. "You mean…"

Once-ler grinned, then cupped a hand around his mouth. "Cindy! There's someone out here you need to see!"

The Lorax turned toward the Lerkim, and they both waited a moment before the door opened, and Cindy stood there, wiping her hands on a towel. When she saw the Lorax, she froze.

The Lorax smiled. "Hey, Cindy."

Her face broke into a wide grin, and she threw the towel behind her as she let out a joyful cry. "Lorax!" She ran down the steps, and collected him in her arms, giving him a big squeeze. Their hug lasted longer, and the Lorax began sniffing. "Do I smell cookies?"

Cindy pulled away, the grin still stretching her face. "You do!" She gestured to the door, which was still wide open. "Come inside and you can have all the cookies you'd like!"

"Better watch out, Cindy," Once-ler cut in with a chuckle. "I've fed this bottomless pit before. My year-long supply of pancake mix was gone in a week."

The three of them laughed, and Once-ler set down the watering can to join Cindy, putting his arm around her. The Lorax beamed. "So then, you two…?"

"Were married a month ago," Cindy said, smiling up at Once-ler.

The Lorax made a face. "I've been his roommate before. Does he still snore?"

"Not as loudly as you do," Once-ler teased. He leaned down and booped him on his furry tummy, to which the Lorax sprang back in protest.

Cindy laughed, and grabbed Once-ler's hand. "Come one, you two. Cookies just came out."

Once-ler let her hand slip out of his as she turned to go inside. She turned back inquisitively. "Coming?"

Once-ler smiled at her. "Yeah, yeah. I just… I should finish watering these."

"Okay." Cindy smiled, and led the Lorax inside the Lerkim.

Once-ler watched them, his heart nearly exploding with happiness. He watered a few more saplings, then set the watering can down, looking towards Thneedville, which was no longer surrounded by an air-tight wall.

He heard the front door open, and the sound of rustling grass. Cindy put a gentle hand on his shoulder. "Once-ler? You okay?"

He turned to face her. He noticed her lines of concern, and he lightly touched her cheek. "Yes," he said quietly. He smiled. "It couldn't be better."

She nodded, then smiled. "You better have some cookies before the Lorax eats them all."

Cindy took his hand, beginning to lead him back to the house, but Once-ler lightly pulled her back. "Hey," he gently. "I love you, you know that?"

Cindy huffed out a small laugh, then pecked him on the cheek. "Love you, too. You sure you're okay?"

Once-ler nodded, turning to face Thneedville again. "I just… can't believe the past few months."

Cindy squeezed his hand. "You didn't think you'd have a future." It wasn't a question. She knew how low he'd been the last five decades.

He turned to her. "I didn't think I'd have a future with you."

She was silent for a moment, looking out to the horizon. "Once-ler, what happened before… that's all in the past. You know that, right?"

He looked down at his feet, where a Truffula tree was growing. "All I can do is try to fix it."

Cindy reached up and touched his face, making him face her again. "Once-ler…" she shook her head with a small smile. "You are fixing it. But…" she leaned in close. "You'll miss the best things if you keep your eyes shut."

A smile twitched at Once-ler's lips. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Cindy laughed. "Focus on the here and now, Once-ler. There's no greater moment." She squeezed his hand, and turned back to go into the house.

"Cindy Lou Who," Once-ler called.

She turned. "Yes?"

He caught up to her and draped his arm around her. "What would I do without you?"

She playfully pushed his tall hat so it skewed to the side. "Lorax is going to eat all those cookies if we don't get back in there."

"Oh, I think we're too late."

"Fine. You're making the next batch for Ted and Audrey, then."

Once-ler grinned, walking hand in hand with Cindy to their doorstep.

She was right. There was no better moment than the present. It didn't matter what the future brought, as long as he could share it with Cindy Lou Who. The girl he met in the forest. A fellow Speaker for the Trees. His best friend.

When Once-ler stepped inside their home, he consciously left his past on the front porch. He'd take an ax to it later.

FIN.