Title: City of the Fallen

Author Note: Rogue is 18 and her looks will be fashioned after the Xtreme X-Men comics with slight variations.

Disclaimer: I do not own nor do I have anything to do with X-Men. X-men is copyrighted and property of Marvel.

Prologue

Dawn was breaking and the snow covered land was bathed in eerie shades of red, yellow and orange. It was a quiet morning, the world barren of life and only the crash of icy waves against the frozen cliffs penetrated the thick silence. The world stood frozen. Not even the gentle breeze blowing in from the sea disturbed the ice crystals that hung from the branches of lifeless trees. Pure serenity.

At least, that probably would have been the right word to use but all I felt as I looked through the frost coated glass, was a sense of morbid tranquility, the kind that you only find in hospitals. Sure, most anyone looking at what I was, would have thought it to be beautiful. All I felt, though, was a deep and numbing sadness. I just had not been the same ever since the incident with Carol Danvers and just last week we had received the worst possible news. Carol had died.

Sighing, I tried to expel the voices creeping into my consciousness, blaming me for everything I had done and whispering to me that I was a murderer. I was. It was no one else's fault but mine that Carol had died. It had been two years, two very long and hard years. For me it had been about coming to grasp with what I had done. Two years learning to control my new powers and fighting night and day for my sanity. I was sure it had been just as tough for Carol, at least, the part of her I had absorbed seemed to never let me forget just how rough she had it. Two years Carol had fought for her life but without her soul, her body could only last so long. Even though she had been a fighter, Carol had lost this one and she had lost everything to me, because of me.

Shaking my head as if trying to chase the demons out of my mind, I turned and quietly picked up my meager bag of belongings, slinging it over my shoulder. It was light and easy enough to handle. I did not have the time to pack everything, just the necessities and enough clothes to last me for a week. I had never been the kind of person to collect things. I preferred to keep things simple. I grew up as a fugitive and a member of the Brotherhood, which never really allowed for things like settling in and growing roots. So, my packing last night had been quick and relatively painless.

I closed the door as quietly as I could. I knew that most of the residents would still be asleep but a few of them were light sleepers. I did not want to take the chance and wake one of them. I did not want to have to sit through the next inquisition, which would be my own, if one of them caught me. Sitting down and trying to explain to the others what was going on in my mind and how I was feeling, just was not my style. Besides, years of psycho analysis done with Professor Xavier and Cerebro had done me little good. Even with his powers and years of experience, Xavier had only been able to help me manage the onslaught of psyches inside my head, not rid me of them and I was certainly nowhere near being able to control my power. I needed a change of pace. I needed to restart my life and try to forget that I was a murderer for the rest of my life.

I stepped down the few steps and walked along the asphalt driveway. For some reason, the Professor had this crazy idea to hide his massive garage that looked more like a horse stable, behind and to the side of his palatial mansion. It was a nice enough walk, a long and cold walk but I was just happy I did not have to trudge my way through four foot deep snow banks. Falling in the snow, ending up soaking wet and then having to face a long ride ahead in the freezing cold, with no place to go, did not seem like a good idea. Then again, at least I might have something to distract me from my thoughts.

Brushing the hair lightly from my face, I looked ahead towards the looming structure. The driveway was lined by maple trees. In the spring, the driveway would look like a road from a fantasy novel, branches reaching across, grasping each other and blocking all light from the road beneath. In autumn the leaves would turn and this place changed into something magical, the colors so bright and vibrant, I sometimes felt that I would be blinded by their sheer beauty. It was a pity that I would never see this again, not if I could help it. The mansion brought back too many memories, some good but a lot bad enough that I just wanted to forget it all.

I picked up my pace, as if running away would put me farther away from those memories and the reality that my life had become. I reached the side door to the garage, surprised to find it unlocked. Shrugging it off, I walked into the garage. The room was dark, only the first few rays of morning light streaked through the windows, casting the room in a strange gray light. All the vehicles were nothing more than massive shadows. Casting my hand out to the side, I reached for the light, my fingertips brushing against cold cobblestone until reaching the tiny switch. The light flared, almost burning my eyes. Blinking, I looked to where I knew my motorcycle would be and was shocked to see Logan sitting on the seat, as if waiting for me.

"Hey stripes."

He was leaning against the seat of my Harley nonchalantly, his white tank top and blue jeans were dingy from age and over use. His arms were crossed and a half chewed, half smoked cigar hung from the corner of his mouth. His gaze, when I looked in his eyes, was full of anger. I did not know if it was just me or if the room was actually getting smaller but being trapped in a room with Logan while he was pissed off, was never a good idea, for anyone, especially if that anger was directed at you.

A sense of defeat came crashing over me and I dropped my bag, unable to hold onto it any longer. I leaned against Jean's monstrous SUV, one arm folded across my hips, the other reaching up, as if it had a mind of its own, to soothe my aching temples. Indeed, my hand had moved on its own. Too many psycho therapy sessions with the professor had proven to me that some of my mannerisms were not my own but those belonging to the people I had absorbed. This had been a favorite of Carol's.

Her beautiful face, contorted in agony flashed through my mind and I snatched my hand down, stuffing it into my pocket. I looked to Logan then, his face had softened and his arms were no longer folded tensely but resting lightly on my bike. He knew what I was going through in a way. He had been there with me through many sessions with the professor. He and Ororo had both been there for me. They had stayed up night after night to make sure I did not hurt myself or someone else. They had been the ones to train me when it was decided it was unsafe for me to train with the others. They were part of the reason why I had made it these past two years but I could not do it anymore.

As if he could read my mind, Logan came up to me slowly, his booted feet making only a whisper of sound on the stone ground. He wrapped his arms around me, crushing me to him in a bear like grip. It felt good, that simple human to human contact. It soothed the soul and it was something I had desperately wanted ever since my powers had manifested. Even though, I could barely feel his warmth through the layers of clothes I was wearing, it warmed me from head to toe. I returned his embrace with one of my own, lifting him off the ground but careful not to hurt him.

"You'll do jus' fine." His laugh was soft but hearty and it made me smile. I was definitely going to miss him. He and Ororo had both been like family to me. It was hard to say goodbye.

"Ah know, Logan. Tell Ororo bye for me an' not to worry."

"It's not that simple, Stripes. You know she'd worry no matter what I tell her."

"Ah'm sorry. Ah know you think Ah shouldn't leave but Ah just can't stay here any longer. Not now, not after what happened to Carol."

"Don't worry about that right now. You'll cross that bridge when you come to it. You can always stay here and work on getting over it."

"Get over it? Ah've been tryin' to get over it for the past two years with no success. The professor has been sendin' me out on missions for the past year an' my head is more crowded than it's ever been. Workin' on it is not somethin' Ah can do here an' you know it."

Sadness flew across his face, there one moment and gone the next, only to be replaced with a wry smile. He understood far better than anyone else what it meant to take a life. He had lived through more than one savage war and he had fought his own battles to get to where he was now. It was my turn and staying at the mansion was not going to help me.

"Listen, jus' be safe out there and drop us a line from time to time. I know that what you're going through is rough and you feel like you need to get away. Jus' know that you have this place to come back to."

"Ah can't live here anymore, Logan. Not after everythin' that's happened. Ah need to find a way to make up for what Ah've done, if that's even possible."

"Rogue, you say that now but give it time and you'll see."

"No, Logan. Ah can't be a part of the X-Men anymore an' Ah'm not sure Ah want to be. Ah've done a lot of harm just because Ah was told it was the right thing to do. Ah did it because Ah was trying to be a good little soldier and follow orders but no more."

"Look, I know things have happened in the past that you're not proud of but don't just throw everything away on a whim."

"Ah have to know that what Ah'm doing with my life is actually helping someone an' not just for the greater good of Professor Xavier. Ah can't make up for my mistakes if Ah continue to keep making the same ones over an' over again."

Picking my bag up I brushed past Logan and towards my bike. Stowing my belongings under the seat, I hit the switch that opened the garage doors. I am not going to lie, I was a little perturbed at what he was saying. I knew he only had the best at heart but I did not want to hear it. Sure, the professor had taken me in when I had needed it the most and turned me into one of his soldiers. I did not mind fighting, so long as what I was fighting for meant something. Meant I was protecting someone that needed it. Lately, though, all I felt was like I was being used. Used for my abilities for someone else's personal gain.

Using my foot, I moved the kick stand into place and pushed my bike out of the garage. I was thankful for the warmth of the sun. Breathing out a sigh of relief, I swung my leg over and slid into place on my bike. The seat fit like a glove. It was a beautiful bike, a Harley Davidson Forty-Eight, solid black with an engine that purred like a kitten. I had loved it the moment I had set eyes on it. It had been a gift from Irene and Mystique, showing up at the professor's front door the day of my sixteenth birthday. It had been a wonderful surprise. That was shortly before I met Carol Danvers and my life changed forever.

Changed had happened fast, much faster than I expected but this bike had been a life saver. Being able to open it full throttle on the open road and get away from it all had helped to save me from that dark pit I found myself in two years ago. Now, it was going to help get out of another. I turned the key and pushed down on the clutch and the bike roared to life. The steady vibration of the motor underneath me soothed my worries away and I relaxed for the first time all morning.

Looking to the garage, Logan stood in the doorway, his hands in his pockets and leaning against the outside wall. His face was a mix of anger and understanding. I could not blame him for being angry with me but I had to do what was best for me. I knew that somewhere, some part of him understood that, well. Time would tell. Not much for goodbyes, I saluted my one time mentor, dropped my sunglasses into place and tore off down the drive. I hoped this would be the last time I ever stepped foot through those gates but knowing that may not be possible.

One Week Later

I had managed to make it down to New Orleans without a hitch. I did not really have a plan to begin with other than to get as far away from the mansion as possible. Sitting in the Café Du Monde sipping coffee and munching on some beignets, in the French Quarter, in the middle of the night was a good starting point for getting away. I still had no idea what I was going to do. Irene and Mystique had made regular deposits into my bank account, so I did not have to worry about money, at least not for right now. I was lost. I did not know how I was going to support myself or even begin to make up for what I had done. There were only so many opportunities available to young teenagers fresh out of high school and looking the way that I did.

Sighing, I flagged my waiter down and ordered another round of coffee and beignets. It's not like I had anything else to do at the moment. Returning to my empty hotel room did not appeal to me either. Tapping my fingers on the table top I reached for the newspaper someone had left earlier, considering the Café did not have television hooked up for its customers, I needed something to distract myself from the boredom of having nothing to do.

The newspaper was boring, too. It was chock full of weather reports and local sports stories and odd story here or there about some new local band. A lot of blah blah with no other substance. I was about to put the paper down when the tiny section donated for world news slipped out. I pulled the section out and laid it across the stable, spitting coffee out when I looked at the picture underneath the headline. It read Mutant Nation Born but that was not what caught my eye. Magneto, evil leader to the Brotherhood stood front and center shaking hands with some diplomats. He looked young, not much older than me. How he had done it, new nation, new looks, I was not sure but I wanted to find out.

I rolled up the newspaper, stuffing it in the back pocket of my jeans and tossed a twenty on the table. Rushing outside, I took one giant step and jumped, flying through the buildings and trees, till I cleared all of them and only the sky remained. It was the first time I had used Carol's powers and not my own. I knew what I wanted to do and where I was going. I had a purpose and a way to accomplish it. I would not hold back any longer. It was time for me to start making a difference and this time, for the better.