Sorry to everyone who waited forever for me to upload this. I wasn't quite sure how to end this, so I had to watch the movie again for inspiration. Anyway, here it is. The final chapter (dun dun duh)

"Tell the kids I'll be home soon."

Luke Davidson closed his cell phone. It had been a quiet day in the booth today. It wasn't a holiday, or even a weekend, so most people weren't interested in crossing the border. His shift was almost over, and he went to grab his coat, when he saw the truck coming down the road. It slowed as it neared the booth, and the driver rolled down the window.

"Good evening," said Luke to the blonde young man in the driver's seat. "On your way to Canada?"

"Yes. Hamilton, to be exact."

"Ah, Hamilton. Heading up for the festival?"

"Nah. It's our grandmother's 90th birthday. Whole family's getting together."

"Ninety? Well give her my congratulations. So, you're all family?" asked Luke, looking from the boy driving to the one sitting in the passenger's seat holding a dog. Blonde hair and brown hair. Short and skinny, and tall and muscular. They didn't look related.

"We're stepsiblings," said the boy with brown hair. "At least I am. They're related," he said, gesturing behind him. Luke looked and saw a girl with blonde hair on the back of a red motorcycle.

"No parents?"

"They've been up for awhile. This was the earliest we could get out of school."

"Still in high school?"

"Well, we're officially done now."

"Oh, congratulations again. You don't mind if I take a look at some of your stuff?"

The brown haired boy had been answering the questions, but now the blonde spoke up again. "Of course not."

Luke went around and started rummaging around. Everything looked fine, but there were two oddly designed suitcases that he couldn't open. He grabbed one and brought it to the front.

"What's this?"

"Our grandmother collects suitcases," said the blonde, shrugging as though embarrassed. "We found these on EBay. Apparently they're antiques from an old movie she used to watch."

"Which movie?"

The blonde looked at the other boy, who shrugged. "World something? I can't remember, I could never sit through 5 minutes of that thing."

"Can you open it for me please?"

"They don't open. Trust me, we've tried."

"Well, it feels like there's something inside. Either it opens, or I'll have to confiscate it-"

"Listen," said the blonde man, catching hold of the Luke's wrist. "We're just heading to a family reunion. We don't have anything illegal, so just let us go. It's late; you probably want to just go home."

Come to think of it, he did want to get home. And they sounded so sure that they didn't have anything illegal. "Alright," said Luke vaguely. "You can pass. Have fun at your reunion."

And he picked up his coat, went outside, locked the booth, and headed out to his car. He really did want to get home. Home was warm. Home was great. He didn't even look back to see if the cars had driven away. Of course they would have. They didn't have anything illegal. They just were going to a family reunion. Going home. Like him. Home.

The two vehicles, however, had not driven away. The three passengers were staring as they watched the headlights from Luke's car grow dimmer and dimmer as he drove off.

"Okay, what was that?" asked the girl, getting off her motorcycle and walking up to the two off them.

"What did you do?" asked the brown haired boy. The blonde one was staring at his hands.

"I-I don't know. Maybe it's . . . he looked at the other boy. "Get out of the car."

The other boy narrowed his eyes. "Why?"

The blonde grabbed his wrist. "Get out of the car."

And without hesitation, the brown haired boy proceeded to do so.

"It's a new Legacy, John," breathed the girl.

The boy, John, stared at his hands again. "I don't believe it. I can, I can influence people." He grinned, "That'll come in handy. Sam!" he called out to the boy outside. "It's a new Legacy."

The car door opened, and Sam got back in. "Cool. And mildly creepy. But cool."

"Well, if we're all done there, let's get this show back on the road," said the girl, and she left, presumably to get back on her motorcycle. John started the car and they were off once more.

"You know what this makes you, right?" asked Sam. "A Jedi. These are not the droids you're looking for," he said, waving his fingers in front of John's face.

John laughed. "Shut up, Sam." He shook his head, and focused on the road that would take them to Hamilton.

"So we obviously can't do this randomly." It was the next day, and the three of them were hunched over the table in a motel in Hamilton, after they'd figured that it searching for Sam's dad at night would probably be pointless. They were looking at a map that showed all of the different camping areas in and around the area, and there were quite a few.

"Sam, any of these stick out to you?" asked John. Sam did a onceover of the map again.

"I don't- wait. Big Valley Campground."

"Sound familiar?"

"Yeah, yeah it does. We went there when I was really young. My mom had something for work, and I really wanted to camp, so my dad took me here." He looked up. "Should we try it out?"

John sighed. "Look, I hate to say this, but that could be irrelevant. I mean, if the Mogs were talking about it, it probably has something to do with when your dad was with them. They probably didn't know a lot about your family trips."

Sam sighed. "I know. But it's all we've got. Right S-. Um, Me-. Uh, right?" He looked at Six.

"Right. Now how come the two of you haven't been calling me by my name?"

Sam and John looked at each other. "Um, what do you mean?" asked John.

"You know what I mean."

"Well," John started, "we weren't sure, since you were Six, and then you were Megan, and then we saw the-"

"Blockbuster poster," Sam muttered. He remembered how he and John had gone in to a grocery store to stock up on supplies, and had come out to find Six across the street, staring at the window of the Blockbuster. They'd gone over and found that she was actually looking at an old, faded poster of Transformers in the window, advertising the two main actors in the movie. Sam rubbed his shoulder, remembering how Six had punched him.

"You're such a tool," she'd said. But Sam had seen a glimmer of amusement in her eyes. At least he'd thought so.

"Oh yes, how could I forget that," she said, throwing a withering glance and Sam.

"So, what should we call you?" asked Sam.

"How about Your Highness?" muttered John, and the two of them burst into laughter.

"You two are impossible!" said Six, throwing up her hands in frustration. "Shut up now, or I will shoot you both."

Slowly the boys calmed down, with only the odd snicker escaping. "So, Big Valley Campground it is?" asked Sam.

"Sure. It's all we got."

The three of them stood on a hill, overlooking the campsite. They'd searched it for two hours, and hadn't found anyone remotely like Sam's dad. John felt terrible. Sam had been trying to hide it, but John knew that he had been so excited to finally find his dad here. And now . . . nothing. He and Six stood a couple feet back from Sam, to let him have a moment. John wanted to say something reassuring, but he wasn't terribly good at motivational speeches.

There was a flash of movement in the corner of his eye, and he turned to see Six gesturing at him, as if to say Say something!

He gestured back. You say something!

I'm not good with mushy things! You do it!

You're a girl aren't you? You're better than I am!

Six glared at him, and if looks could kill, well, John was glad they couldn't. She stepped forwards, and John was worried she was going to hit him, but then Bernie Kosar walked over to Sam. You're hopeless, the dog spoke in John's mind. Bernie Kosar sat down right at Sam's feet and curled up around him. Sam smiled, and knelt to pet him.

"Outdone by a dog," John whispered to Six, who grinned.

Sam stood up and turned to the two of them. "Guess we should get a move on."

"He's probably just at another site," said John quickly.

"Or maybe he got plastic surgery," put in Six. "In which case-"

"He could be anywhere," Sam swallowed. "Let's just leave. We need to look for Number 7."

They turned to go, and then out of nowhere something ran straight into John and bowled him over. Before he could react, the figure dug the point of a gun into his chest and shouted "Nobody move!"

Sam, Six and Bernie Kosar froze. John's earlier fear of Mogs disappeared as he looked at the person kneeling on top of him. It was a boy, around his age, with black hair and a dark tan. So unless the Mogs were employing humans to work for them, which they'd done before. But John didn't think so. The boy's tone sounded almost desperate, not attempting as though he wanted to kill them, but rather as though he was protecting himself.

"Did they send you?" he asked.

"Look, this is all just-" Six began.

"I asked you a question!" the boy roared. "Did they send you?"

"You mean the Mogs?" John asked, staring up at the boy. "The Mogadorians?"

The boy dug the gun harder. "I knew it," he snarled. "You're with them."

"No we're not," said Six. "We're . . . oh for God's sake, Sam explain."

"Me? Why?"

"Because Sam, I'm too intimidating to be nice, now do it!"

But something they had said had caused the boy threatening them to pause. "Wait. Who are you?" he asked, gesturing to Sam with a free hand.

"Sam . . ." Sam broke off suddenly as he stared at the base of the hill. The bushes lining the sides rustled, and a man stepped through them, a man who looked very familiar.

"Jonah! Where-" he broke off as he stared up the hill.

"Dad," Sam whispered. And he tore off down the hill towards the man.

"Wait, I said don't-"

"Oh shut up, we're obviously not hostile," said Six, walking over to John. The boy half-raised his gun, then sighed, and got off John's chest. Six helped him to his feet.

"So who are you?" Six asked.

"You first," answered the boy.

Six paused, as though contemplating how to take him down, so John intervened.

"I'm Number Four," he said, as Six looked at him sharply.

"We don't-" she began, but the boy cut her off. "That's bad luck for you isn't it?" He held out his hand. "Number Eight".

John and Six looked at each other, confused. "No you're not," began Six. "We'd know if you were a number. We used a crystal . . ."

"Dr. Goode's crystal? He told me about it. He said it was likely that the Mogs would find it, so he injected me with a chemical to make me untraceable."

"So that really is Sam's dad," he said to himself. To Number Eight he said, "so how long have you been travelling with him?"

"Two and a half years. My Cepan died defending me in Jamaica, and I was on my own for a bit. Then I found the location of a Mog base and had plans to blow it up, but I met Dr Goode escaping from them. We fought together, and I've been travelling with him since. We're trying to unite the numbers to fight the Mogs and drive them out of Earth for good."

"So he's been free for two and a half years, and he never once went to see his family?" John said.

"He cared about too much to do that. He was worried that the Mogs would do anything to get him back, including blackmailing him with whatever they thought he loved. But he managed to get his wife a promotion in her job, bringing her to Paradise, Ohio, and making it harder for the Mogs to find them." The boy paused, then said, "He's amazing. He's only human, but he's helping us as much as we can. He's my Cepan now, I guess."

"My Cepan's dead too, and so is John's. I guess we're all in the same boat there," said Six.

"John?" asked Eight.

"That's me," said John, raising his hand. "I like having an actual name, instead of just a number."

Eight thought for a second, then nodded. "So do I. It's Jonah." He looked at Six. "I didn't catch your name."

"I'm Number Six," she said. Jonah waited. "But my name's Megan," she said, with a sly look at John, who suppressed a snort.

"We have so much to plan," said Jonah. "Three numbers! All united! And you two said you used the crystals, which means you can find the other 3 easily! We should start making fight plans, practicing, locating Mog bases-"

"Slow down kid," said Six. "Let's just . . .enjoy the moment for a bit."

John followed her line of vision to see what was happening at the base of the hill. He nudged her in the side. "I thought you weren't into 'mushy' stuff like this," he joked.

She slapped him on the shoulder. "Don't be getting any ideas," she said menacingly. "This is a onetime thing. It's just . . . nice."

All three of them watched as Sam and his dad laughed and hugged and cried at the bottom of the hill. It was nice, thought John. Actually, it was better than nice. It was probably one of the happiest things he had ever seen in all his time on earth. Watching father and son be reunited like this, it made John feel an even greater need to save Earth. It was too late for him to reunite with his father, but it wasn't too late for the millions of children on this planet. He would help them all; make sure no one else lost a brother, a sister, a mother, a father to the Mogs. Things hadn't been going so well for their cause just yet, but things were looking up. They'd destroyed a Mog base, they were united with another number and best of all, Sam had found his dad. He turned to Six, who was smiling a genuine smile, and he smiled back. The moment was more than nice. It was inspiring. It was wonderful. It . . .

It gave him hope.