A/N: Home sweet home for Rogue! Well, sort of...

And sorry for the delay between chapters—RL has been out of control. As always, thanks to everyone who's reviewed so far! I love hearing from readers, so for sureee drop me a line if you make it to the end of the chapter! (Especially those of you putting it on alert. I see you! Say hello!)

-x-

"This is it?" Officer Drake asked, his tone dubious. The question hung in the air between them as he stopped the squad car in the small parking lot outside the Castle Point Apartments complex. The lot was mostly empty, save for a few beat-up sedans and one dirty pickup truck.

Rogue took a better look at the building that she'd been eyeing warily since they'd turned down the street. The complex itself was smaller than she would have guessed, only two floors. She was on the bottom, unit 1J.

It was dreary and run-down, and looked absolutely nothing like she'd always a home in California would. To be fair, though, the war meant nothing was like it used to be—and I guess the California housing situation is no different, Rogue thought dryly. Still, something that didn't call to mind a prison would have been nice.

"Yeah," she said aloud. "Yeah, this is me." She tried to sound happy enough about it. She didn't need to be unloaded her doubts on a stranger.

"I'm not down here too much," he said. "It's a pretty all right area." He paused, grinning. "Even if it doesn't look like much."

"That's good to hear," Rogue replied. She was starting to get fidgety, eager to get into her apartment and back into her regiment of solitude.

The doors unlocked, like he was reading her thoughts, and Rogue unbuckled her seatbelt. "Well, thanks for the ride and... and for everything from earlier."

"Don't mention it." Then, Officer Drake—Bobby, he had reminded her during the drive to her apartment, just call me Bobby—said he'd been in touch within the next week. Follow-up questions, he explained. "So don't head out of town just yet," he added with a smile. "I'm sure it's not what you pictured, but Cedar Hill really does have its perks."

Rogue nodded. "I'm sure the charm won't be lost on me once I've slept for a day or two."

"See you around, Rogue."

"Bye," she said, scrambling out of the car with what she hoped didn't look like too much eagerness. She shouldered the duffle bag from New York that she'd returned to the bus to grab after she was done talking to Bobby. Not much was in it—mostly clothes—but it was pretty much all she had. With a short wave, Rogue shut the door, then hurried toward the building as she heard the squad car drive away behind her.

Rogue walked inside, trying not to be too disheartened by her surroundings. She already had her key, which thankfully saved her a visit to the super or the landlord—if she didn't have to talk to anyone else for the next month, it would be too soon. Since the complex was so small, it didn't take her long to find her unit—1J. She unlocked the door, suddenly a little nervous for what she'd find. Everything about trekking across the country had seemed so... so abstract, that to finally be here seemed almost surreal.

And as soon as she got the door open, that feeling disappeared, sending her back to reality all too quickly.

The apartment itself was miserable. It practically made the outside of the building look like a dream. It was small and cramped, poor laid out and had a slightly sour smell to it. It looked like the kitchen and the living area were the same—maybe she could cook from her spot on the sofa, she thought dryly—and she knew the bedroom would be just as small.

Rogue knew she had only herself to blame. When she'd heard of the apartment in Cedar Hill being available, she'd jumped at the opportunity to rent it. She hadn't given much thought to its size or—she glanced around, grimace in place—its chances of passing any sort of health inspection. But it was all she had, and she'd have to make due. The alternative was heading back to the life she had left behind in New York, and that wasn't an alternative at all.

She threw her duffle unceremoniously onto the peeling kitchen counter and looked around. A lot of the furniture had been left by the friend of the friend of the friend, and although Rogue wasn't entirely convinced that was a good thing, it saved her from some of the trouble that would come with trying track down things like a bedside table in a post-war community. She'd had the things in her apartment that had survived the fighting shipped across country before she left, and the super at Castle Point had let them into the unit to set it up. Her bed, her couch, and her dresser. But that was about it.

Rogue had sent most of her personal decorations—pictures, art, a few knickknacks that had been gifts from now-dead friends—down the trash chute before leaving. There were moments when she regretted that, the rash flash of emotion that had sent her through her old apartment, tearing things down, breaking a few possessions in the process. But mostly, she just thought it was easier this way. Having fewer things around meant fewer chances of being sent back into memories that she didn't ever want to relive.

Shaking her head, Rogue looked around the "kitchen." She turned on the sink to find that the water was fine, and then tentatively opened the fridge, only to be met by a slightly moldy smell. Ew. With a sigh, she went back to the couch and grabbed her water bottle from the bag. She had suddenly realized how thirsty she was, and the water was clear enough, at least. After a few seconds, she realized there was no ice, and the sink water was lukewarm at best.

Time to go exploring for the ice machine, Rogue guessed, hoping she wasn't overestimating the apartment by assuming there'd be one here. She opened the door and walked into the hallway. It was mercifully empty, something that she was endlessly grateful for. She was here for her "new life," sure, but that didn't mean she had to make friends. Or like her apartment. Or really want to start over at all.

Rogue glanced to both sides, trying to guess where she thought the ice machine would be. The hall stopped to the right, so she turned left and headed down the corridor. She passed a few other units, but didn't hear any signs of life. That wasn't too surprising, actually, considering how empty the parking lot had been.

After a few more steps, Rogue had reached what she supposed was the utility room. Glancing inside, she could see a washer and dryer, along with the ice machine and a vending machine that seemed to only stock Cheez-its.

"Hi!"

Rogue started at the sound of a voice and spun around. She had a hand on the end of a glove before she realized that the speaker was a girl maybe a few years younger. She was smiling broadly, wearing bright colors that matched her tone. Rogue couldn't help but think that she looked completely at odds in the run-down apartment complex.

"You must be the new tenant!" she chirped. "I was wondering when you'd get here. It been, like, ages since Marietta moved out."

Marietta. The friend of the friend of the friend… If Rogue ever caught up with her, she'd have to have a word about leaving apartments in a state of disrepair. "Yeah, that's me."

"Oh, I'm so glad you're a girl! Not that I hate guys or anything," she continued, "but it's nice to have an ally, if you know what I mean." Rogue nodded along, unsure of how to respond. "I'm Kitty, by the way. Well, Katherine Pryde, but everyone calls me Kitty. So, yeah." She smiled again, practically vibrating with energy. "I'm Kitty."

There was a brief pause before Rogue realized she was supposed to fill the silence by introducing herself. Right. "Oh, um, I'm Rogue."

"Well, welcome to Cedar Hill! Have you met everyone yet?" she asked, nodding behind her at the other units on the hall. If Kitty had found her name strange, she gave no hint of it.

Rogue shook her head. "No. I just got here today. A few minutes ago, actually." Maybe she'd get the hint… "I just needed some ice."

Kitty waved her off, wide-eyed. "You don't want to use that ice machine, trust me. Actually," she continued, her tone turning thoughtful, "you probably shouldn't use anything in the building that you didn't buy yourself." Rogue's alarm at hearing this must have registered on her face, because Kitty kept going, "Oh, god, I'm doing it again, aren't I? Talking too much? Sorry, I didn't mean to freak you out—the building's pretty nice, all things considered. A lot of the complexes got hit pretty hard in the war, but we still have running water and heat, so that's something."

"Oh." Maybe the area had been hit even worse than Rogue had thought. She wondered what the rest of the surrounding area looked like—she guessed that even if Cedar Hill had escaped a lot of the destruction, the neighboring towns hadn't.

Kitty continued, pulling Rogue from her thoughts. "Well, I'm sure you want to unpack and everything, but let me know if you need anything. I'm, like, two doors down on your right. And I'll introduce you to everyone else later—I think most people are gone right now, actually. But if you run into Logan, don't worry—he's not as mean as he seems. Well, he sort of is, but he means well. I think." Kitty shrugged. "And everyone else is super nice, so don't worry!"

"That's good," was all she could think to say.

Then with a, "It was nice to meet you, Rogue!" the girl turned and went back the way she came.

Rogue took a breath. She felt a little worn out just talking to Kitty. With her plan to get ice vetoed, she headed back to her apartment. As she passed the other rooms, she finally let herself think about something that had been bothering her since she'd left the scene of the bus accident.

When she'd left New York, she'd been under the impression that Cedar Hill was a mutant community. Sure, she'd guessed there would be a few non-mutants there, but she'd been expecting… well, she'd been expecting everyone to be a bit more open about everything. She'd thought everyone would seem different, but, so far, everyone had just seemed human.

To be fair, she thought, a hand unconsciously reaching up to touch a strand of white hair, most of us look normal enough.

She opened the door, trying to imagine what Kitty's mutation would be—or Bobby's, for that matter. Officer Drake hadn't said anything about mutants in Cedar Hill, but something had been causing enough trouble for him to seem cautious. There was the chance one of the attackers from the bus—the one who'd gotten away—was a mutant, but she couldn't be sure.

As of now, the only mutant she had really seen was, well, Gambit. And herself, too, if she wanted to get technical about it.

Rogue set her water bottle back down by her bag, and reached into her jacket pocket. The Queen of Hearts was still tucked innocently away, no trace of anything to indicate the circumstances under which she'd gotten the "gift." She wandered—which meant took about one step—through her apartment and into the impossibly small bedroom. For a lack of anything better to do, she stuck the card in the top drawer of her nightstand.

It was then, standing by the bed that reminded her forcefully of New York, that she realized how utterly drained she felt. Not just from the events from earlier that day, but from the past few years. The war had taken so much from all of them—friends and family, the ability to ever let their guards down completely.

Rogue would explore the rest of the town and the apartment building later. For now, all she wanted to do was sleep until well into the next week. Or year.

With a yawn, not bothering to change her clothes or take off her shoes, Rogue collapsed onto the bed and fell asleep almost immediately.

She didn't wake up until sometime the next afternoon—

Not until the fire alarm was ringing shrilly and someone was banging at her door.