Disclaimer: I do not own X-Men.
Ending
This was it. This was finally it.
She couldn't do it anymore, she couldn't live with it anymore.
Not able to hold anyone's hand, not able to be held, not able to kiss her beloved.
She left the shortest of notes, "I'm sorry, I can't anymore". She took almost nothing, she wouldn't need much. She traveled all night, stowed on a train, on a truck, walked on an overgrown snowy trail.
She found the perfect spot. It wasn't Alaska like she'd wanted, the place she had loved since she first visited, but she couldn't get there in a single night, and she only had a single night. Any longer and they would find her.
The woods were quiet and cold, the falling snow was soft and it was now she had a second thought. But it couldn't be. It was for her own peace as well as theirs.
She ripped off her gloves, rummaged in her bag for a simple knife, found it, and flung the bag away.
For a moment she watched the rising sun over the tree tops, the knife positioned above her wrist. It was so beautiful, so perfect. Oh, to die looking at such beauty!
The knife tore her wrists, the blood flowed from under her pale poison skin.
She lay down in the snow and waited, still watching the sun rise. She whispered one last statement to the world, to her loved ones who could not hear.
"I love you."
"Where's Rogue?"
"Some of her things are gone."
"What does this note mean?"
"Can you find her Professor?"
"I'll find her."
"FIND HER DAMMIT!"
"She's in Canada. She's dying."
It was quickly decided that her best friend, the doctor and the best pilot should go.
They found her on her side, the snow and her hair red from blood. They were too late.
Her best friend enveloped her in his arms, touching her face, her hands, begging her to come back. But her draining skin did not work in death.
The doctor hovered nearby after pronouncing there was nothing they could do, too stunned to cry.
It was the silver haired pilot who found the message craved on a tree, written twice.
"I love you. I love you."
The End
A/N: Jesus, I don't think I've written anything really tragic like that before.
Let me know how I did on my first stab at it.