Marvel owns the X-men, no profit is to be made from this work.

-=+=–=+=–=+=–=+=-

Hi. I don't expect you to read this, that's why I'm writing to you. Truth be told I didn't have to write to anyone, I just had to write a secret down in a letter, but that just sounds like I should start off with Dear Diary and expect some nosey roommate to find it. It's part of the Therapy, the Prof, or Chuck as I've heard ya call him, he doesn't want us bottling stuff up inside. Even if we don't tell anyone he says it's good if we just find a voice for it, so, just incase you actually read this can you just keep it to yourself?

Well, if you don't I only got myself to blame, but when I see ya with Rogue I just wish I had something like that going on right now as I could use it. I had someone like that, but he had to leave, so I'll just leave it at that. Back to the Therapy and all that bottling stuff, I guess you are one of the people who could honestly use some. Whole school knew you were all hot to trot for Doc Grey, but between you and me I think that's just one of those safe things. Ya know what I mean? Crushing on something that can't hurt ya, cause ya know it ain't ever gonna happen.

Wow, urge to just delete all that rising, but I'm too smart for myself. Typing this out on an honest to god typewriter I found in the attic. I even have to slap the stupid thing back to bring it home. I never understood that until now, it's kinda cool actually, way retro. Okay I'm sure if you read this far you'd be getting your glare on with me and about to give me ten laps just like in gym class, so I'll just spit it out. That wasn't the first time I was kidnapped.

Shit. Sorry about the tears, I'm still a pussy. Not like Rogue, she's a bad ass, just like Kitty. I saw her drop Pete out on the lawn trying some stuff ya were showing her, well, that's what she told me after I picked my jaw up off the ground. Course all Rogue has to do to tell someone No mean's No is let them go for it, bam, end of story. Fuck, even writing it all out I just talk and talk and

I was twelve when it happened, coming up to a full year of bouncing from home to home. Back then I didn't know what was going on, and they just all put it down as some cry for attention, wah my folks are dead, poor little girl. Okay that's probably another letter, back to why I'm writing you. I ran way. I couldn't take the homes anymore, didn't even do it dramatic or nothing like running out at night with a knapsack over my shoulder. I just left one day and never came back, did the stupidest thing too and got all straight up hitchhiking.

Incase you don't know, hitchhiking in LA is not advised, period. No matter which end of it you're on. But I did it, and that's how it happened. Twelve years old and I already knew what it was like to get fucking roofied. Sorry, crying again. Just had me thinking that I've already heard some of the kids talking about getting fakes and sneaking off to the bar. If we do, don't worry, I won't let any of us be stupid enough to take drinks from dudes or leave them laying around. Fool me once.

He didn't rape me if that's what you're thinking, maybe he did, just not

Doc Grey checked, no questions asked. Course back then I didn't know she was a fucking telepath, so of course she fucking knew. She was crying, so of course she fucking knew, I just wanted to pretend she didn't. Even if she wasn't a telepath, you get a thirteen year old girl asking you to check that

So yeah, I still have dreams sometimes, nightmares really as dreams are all the fucking shit you hope for and plan out, picket fence and shit like that. Hands on me, a camera, being forced to drink again and again and

I'm always afraid someday somehow one of those pictures are just gonna turn up. Just to make the nightmare real.

You know what I did when I woke up in the hole, all the rest of us in there and seeing soldiers out there guarding the gate and looking all mean. I fucking laughed, I broke down laughing until one of them doped me up again with those fucking needle guns. Why? Because it was better than the last time, and this time I knew you guys were coming for us. I knew there were the X-men out there, and that you mess with one of us like Mister With Friends Like These Who Needs Enemies did to Roguey, you mess with all of us.

I heard you killed some of them too, claws right through the chest. That was Bobby who told me that, he wasn't sure if he was supposed to but I'm glad he did.

I heard Rogue hitchhiked all the way up to ass end of Canada making way for Alaska, right up until she snuck into some trailer and you gave her a lift after making a show about leaving her to freeze. I kinda wish you were going my way back then, but, wow I'm just all over the place as I read everything out again.

I didn't even make it outta LA, I woke up in a mall parking lot off a bender that might give you a headache. After that I went back to the homes, they were a treat after all that. Then as they say, the rest is history. Mutant High and everything else up till now.

I hope you read this now. I can't hold it all in by myself anymore and I don't know who else to fucking tell. I just need someone to know, to know why I never drink anything I can't remember where it's been. To know why I hate photo day, why I hate being touched when I'm not expecting it, and why all the kids think I had a break down after we were taken.

I'm sure the Prof knows, but I just gotta pretend he doesn't, so that every time he looks at me I don't break down crying. I just need someone who isn't gonna look down on me because I was such a fucking kid and did something so stupid.

I just need someone now and I don't know who else to go to. I honestly thought about maybe writing one to Rogue, but I couldn't. This goes right back things being safe and not like being touched, and knowing it'll never happen so it's safe to crush on. I don't know if it's because of everything that happened, or maybe it's just who I am, but she's my Doc Grey. I can keep her at arms length, joke with her, throw in some innocent flirting and know nothing is ever gonna come from it in a million years.

Well, I guess that's it. I actually feel better, and if you actually read this then maybe you'll know why you find another in your mailbox someday. At least that's what I'll put off any strange looks ya start giving me in class, otherwise

Not much sense writing otherwise.

Jubilation 'Give me Ten Laps' Lee

-=+=–=+=–=+=–=+=-

"Lee!"

Snapping her head up out of habit and huffing, the helmet thrown at her had her ducking from perch on the porch and falling into the bushes. Jumping out of them ready to get paffs on someone's ass, she saw him staring at her in a way she hadn't before, breathing suddenly difficult. Watching him walk off to where the helmet had fallen, he picked it up and this time handed it off to her and tipped his head off to his Harley.

"Feel like giving me ten laps?"

-=+=–=+=–=+=–=+=-