Author's Note: Wow, it's been a long time since I've been on here. I've had this sitting in my files for so long, and I guess it's finally time for it to be out in the world. I still own no Marvel characters (though I desperately wish I did) and I still send all the best wishes to my readers. Thanks, and hopefully there will be more to come soon!

The Runaways

In real life, running away isn't glamorous. Most of the time, you grab your few belongings and whatever scraps of food and money you can scrounge up without making a sound, hoping against hope that the people who abused you don't notice you leaving. For Remy LeBeau and Ororo Munroe, escaping the orphanage they'd grown up in was their best chance at seeing adulthood; after all, children with genetic abnormalities like snow-white hair and gleaming red eyes rarely get treated well by anyone. From the time they were young, they learned what extreme hunger was like, as well as the sensation of a belt teaching them every lesson from how to keep from spilling milk to how to stop screaming from the nightmares they had. At the very least, the caretakers in the orphanage felt that the two children ought to stay in the same room, since they couldn't get away with shutting off the thermostat in more than one section of the building. Therefore, Ororo and Remy quickly became friends, especially since they were never allowed to interact with the other kids, and became the only comfort for each other in their harsh, cruel world. When they finally got old enough to realize that not everyone lived like this, that there were other places in the world where people were happy, they began to devise an escape plan, and at age fifteen, they successfully managed to leave. Of course no one came to look for them, so for the first time in their lives, they were free.

But freedom comes at a price. It isn't easy to get jobs when you're both underage and undereducated. Remy and Ororo now lived in New York City, after stowing away on a train and finding a seedy apartment in a rough neighborhood. When they gave their first month's rent, money that they had liberated from the other passengers on the train, as well as the little bit that they were able to take from the orphanage, the landlord hadn't even asked for their names. He just told them to stay out of his way and pay the rent and utilities on time, since he had no qualms about kicking them out or shutting off their power, even if they were all by themselves. The first night there, Ororo and Remy lay huddled on the floor together, shivering underneath their meager blankets, listening to the other tenants scream and fight in various languages, hoping that the locks on their doors were more adequate than they seemed.

As the sounds of breaking glass filtered up from the apartment beneath them, Remy pulled Ororo closer to him, his body tense. "I know we had t' leave, but I t'ink I was hopin' we'd end up somewhere better dan dis."

Ororo placed her hand on the small of his back, tightening her body against his. "Don't be scared," she whispered. "I'm here with you."

"But real talk, 'Ro; you know dis ain't a safe place. You know t'ings are gonna be rough fo' us."

"But there's nothing we can do, Rem. We're basically just as safe as we were back at the orphanage, and as long as we can get actual jobs, rather than just stealing from time to time, we can start saving to get the hell out of here."

"Always so logical, chere. Too bad dat I'm de only one who can tell what's behind yo' poker face." He felt her body tremble as she heard someone pounding up the stairs, stopping all too close to their landing for her comfort. "Come here," he whispered, pulling her as far away from the door as possible. He wrapped his leg over hers and pulled the blankets around them tighter. "No one'll ever hurt you, as long as I'm here. You heard me?" He felt her nod, although her head was buried in the nape of his neck. "We gon' make it together, petit."

We just need jobs, they both silently hoped before drifting off into a fitful sleep, clutched in each other's arms.

* A Week Later *

Remy had managed to get work at a local clothing store a short distance away from the apartment, but only after stealing clothes from one of the clearance mannequins and doing a quick change in the alleyway. He lied and said he was eighteen, and while he was all bones, he was fairly tall and had a stolen ID that the owner never got around to doing a background check on. Ororo wasn't as lucky at first; she tried to get hired at convenience stores, gas stations, and supermarkets, but there just didn't seem to be any openings. Finally she secured a job at a salon, sweeping up the hair from patrons and answering the phones. She was lucky that her long, thick hair and natural curves made her look older than she was, but they told her that she'd have to start dressing more professionally or they'd be forced to let her go. In dismay, she thought about the paltry amount of clothes that she owned, including her one pair of grungy sneakers that she always hid beneath her pant legs. She'd have to talk to Remy about stealing her some clothes from his job, although she hated to ask that of him.

"Why you upset?" He questioned her later. "It has to be done; you need 'em. Don't feel like you makin' me do somet'in, because I would do whatever it takes t' help you out on my own anyway."

"But it's your first week there! We shouldn't have to live like this." Her eyes welled up with tears, and Remy pulled her in to him, his hand soothing on her shoulder.

"No one should, chere, but lots of people do. Difference b'tween us and them though, is we gon' get out of here one day. I'm gonna make sure dat we do; you can count on it." He gently swayed back and forth with her, trying to make hope seem like a real possibility, despite their circumstances.

Since it was early evening in late autumn and the sun had already started to go down, Ororo eventually let go of her friend in order to flick on the light switch. All the bulbs were dim, even though the two teenagers had done their best to wipe away the dust from them. It really wasn't a big surprise, since there wasn't much that worked well in the apartment anyway. The kitchen and the living room were attached, with a small bedroom off to the left that was missing a door. There was a single, dirty bathroom with a shower stall, a toilet, and a broken mirror over a grimy sink. The stove in the kitchen was missing three of the four electric coils, and the refrigerator in the place looked and acted like it was from the early eighties. The shades on the windows were almost all ripped in half, and many of the pipes in the walls were exposed. Although Remy and Ororo had cleaned the best they could with supplies that they lifted from a nearby convenience store, it was hard to be happy in a place like this.

"So, did you eat today?" Ororo questioned, while hoisting herself up on the countertop to reach their dwindling stash of money hidden between the cabinets and the ceiling.

"Yeah. Snatched some dude's fries at McDonald's when he turned around fo' a minute." Remy shook his head. "Felt real bad doin' it, but I was fuckin' hungry, an' he still had a burger an' stuff."

Ororo nodded. "I had some chips and salsa from that Mexican place around the corner. There was a guy eating them with his meal, and I sat down, pretending like I was interested in him." She chuckled a little. "I ate the whole plate on my lunch break, then when I had to leave and he asked if he could call me, I gave him the phone number of the pizza place next door. Poor guy."

"Ha! Seems like you had de whole t'ing planned out, fille. I'm gonna do dat instead next time." He watched as she leafed through their cash. "How much we got left?"

"A hundred and thirty two dollars. When do you get paid again?"

"Owner said he gon' give me money under de table starting dis Friday."

"Thank God. The salon told me the same thing, except I get paid on Saturday."

Remy reached out and ruffled the edges of the bills. "So you t'ink we gonna make rent dis month an' still be able t' buy food?"

Ororo replaced the money and hopped off the counter. "It'll be really tight. After we pay for utilities, we'll have about two hundred dollars left over each month for whatever we need. That includes the money we'll need to start setting aside if we ever want to get out of here." She put her hands on her hips. "Realistically, I think we shouldn't spend any money that we don't have to, even on food."

"Well, how much you t'ink we need to save befo' we leave here?"

Ororo sighed. "About…two thousand dollars."

"Holy shit," Remy whistled. "Well, we gonna have t' stay here almost a year then."

"I know. And I know neither of us wants to, but we have to come to terms with it. If we can just manage to save that much, we can put a down payment and first and last month's rent on a better place in a safer neighborhood."

Her friend shook his head. "How you even know all o' dis, girl? Those bastards we lived wit' sho' as hell didn't teach ya."

"I went to the library to look for a job, and the librarian showed me how to look things up on the Internet. That's how I figured out where we're going to get food, too."

"And where is dat? 'Cause I gotta be honest; those cold fries didn' really help me out much in de hunger department."

"There's a food pantry down the block. We can go right now and sign up and see how much they'll give us."

Remy kissed his friend's cheek. "Come on fille, get yo' coat on. I'll make you a Chef Boyardee casserole when we get back, first t'ing." Ororo laughed and shrugged into her jacket, and the friends slipped out into the cool night air.