She had to get out of here.
Everything reminded her of what they'd lost. Most of all, the dog tag that currently rested around her neck. It weighed heavily on her, dragging her down. It had been a week. She rarely smiled anymore, and she'd been silent the entire journey back to Westchester. The staff had gone through his room, packing things away and giving certain things to certain people that they knew he'd want them to have. She had avoided the room entirely, she hadn't wanted that reality. Kitty had gotten his jacket, and Piotr his motorcycle- she knew that they'd take care of them. Scott had only disturbed her once, to hand over the tag she now wore. His Jeep was still in the garage. It was the one thing no one had touched.
Except her. She had the keys.
She was only taking a few things with her. License, passport, cash. She was leaving her phone and bank cards, she didn't want any way to track her. She needed to do this alone. It wouldn't feel right for anyone else to join her. Clothing, just the essentials. She didn't need to be bogged down, as long as she had her good boots and a warm coat, she'd be fine. She thought about just leaving without a word, but that wasn't her. She wouldn't do that to what remained of her family. Scott and Jean, Kitty and Piotr, Chuck, Hank, Kurt… they all got a short note that said pretty much the same thing. That she was okay, she just had some things to do, please don't follow or look for her.
The brief letters were all left on the counter in the kitchen, and she headed out to the garage early that morning. Earlier than even Scott would be awake, she was sure. After everything they'd been through recently… training had been pushed from everyone's minds. She hadn't slept that night, counting on coffee to fuel her journey. She couldn't sleep without nightmares anymore, of seeing his cold body covered in blood, and stiller than the grave. She shook away the memory and climbed into the Jeep, turning over the engine and backing out down the drive. She paused at the gate, glancing at the rear view mirror for a last look at her home for the past ten years. She'd be back, she promised herself and whoever may have been listening. Her dark hair fell into her blue eyes, which suddenly stung with saltwater.
No.
She wasn't going to cry anymore. Not until she got where she needed to be. She pressed her foot to the gas pedal and headed for the highway, heading west. She had a drive that was just short of two days ahead of her. There was a plan, one that involved lots of coffee and very little sleep, curled up on the bench seat of the older, but well maintained Jeep. She'd cross the border in North Dakota, then head up to Alberta. He'd suggested she tag along with him more than once in the past. She'd been too stubborn to accept the invitation. She regretted it, but she would make it right as best she could. Her hand clasped the dog tag tightly, fingers running over the letters imprinted into it. They felt like they were burned into her skin.
WOLVERINE.
Please R&R.