So I didn't go to Scott's funeral. It wasn't the fact that I couldn't. It was more of that I was holding onto some strange hope, and going to such a finalizing ceremony, hearing the mournful dialogue of some and the sympathetic speeches and gestures of others, some that would probably be aimed at me, would be the end of that little piece of belief, and I couldn't do away with it. I wouldn't.

Jubilee was somewhat disappointed it me. Maybe I myself was disappointed in me, maybe the whole dang mansion was disappointed in me.

But that means nothing. Absolutely nothing.

I am still in Canada, haven't left. Maybe I would have gone home if Kurt came like he promised, but unfortunately I got an long e-mail from him letting me know that his planned trip and been postpone for a while. There has been an outbreak of anti-mutant riots and other violent things happening where he lives.

Believe it or not a whole month has passed since the last time I wrote. I'm doing better emotionally, sure I have a lot of rough days, but I persevere and manage to get through them.

I have a job. My first real one ever. It came about when I was talking to Darla... the grand motherly woman who owns the bed and breakfast. She had brought me some food one day, and wouldn't leave until I opened the door and let her in. Then she stood and watched me until I slowly started to eat what tasted like a chicken salad sandwich. And then she started to talk. I said nothing. I was weak from not eating much, so tired and my brain fuzzy. But her voice was so calming and before I knew it I had eaten everything on the tray, becoming ravenous in the middle of it as I nearly stuffed everything in my mouth. She took the tray from me, gave me a small smile and told me her name.

"Don't worry honey, I'm sure things will get better. " was that last thing she told me before she left the room, closing the door behind me. Not even knowing what I was dealing with, but she was obviously observant and sympathetic, and knew something was troubling me.

That was over three weeks ago. Slowly by slowly I started to talk to her too, telling her things, but not too much. Telling her about Scott and Jubilee, Logan and even Hank, Xavier and others.

Before I knew it I was reviving, the world was coming out of the dim harsh place it had been going, and the sun was starting to show once more, and although it wasn't bright and vibrant, I did feel it's warmth.

So much for dying.

I keep saying I am alone, nobody cares.. but then like with Logan, suddenly somebody is there to help me.

So it was the day that I went down to pay Darla, let her now that I would be checking out in the morning, when she made the suggestion.

I didn't know where I was going to be going, but it ended up I didn't have to think about that for long.

"Are you going home Rogue?" I remember when I had checked in and told her my name, she had crinkled her nose, looked at me somewhat curiously, but for the most part it didn't faze her. Not that Rogue is the strangest name in the world or anything, although I suppose it is unique.

"I.. I don't know." I told her, my voice sounding somewhat hesitant, since that is how I felt, a bag slung across my shoulder, my computer and some clothes bundled up in their cases on the floor in front of my feet.

"Are you.. " she stopped for a second, trying to think of the right way to word whatever she wanted to say. "If you don't have any money, don't worry about it.. stay till you decide what you want to do."

My eyes started to become moist at her sudden kindness.

"You've been so nice t'me, but I couldn't take advantage of you."

"Nonsense!" she snorted, coming out from behind the counter and squeezing my right arm gently. "I enjoy having you here.. you're a sweet child Rogue, even if you are rather quiet."

I suppose I have spent some time with Darla, especially then. Between the phone calls home and to Germany, the pleadings from a few to leave, the quiet yet emotional conversations that were better left unspoken ... it was nice to have someone outside of all that to converse with that wasn't involved in that other life and that knew nothing of it, nor pry to try to. She was such a mothering figure, treating me like less like a customer and more like a granddaughter as the days and then weeks passed, even after I left the hotel.. but I'll get to that later... She tried to make sure I ate, brought cookies to me.. Reminding me of my grandmother as she stroked a cat named Felix on her lap, a creature that had the run of the place, which only added a more homely type of feel to the hotel.

So somehow our conversation drifted to her telling me what jobs were available locally. I would shake my head, bite my lip and even darkly chuckle at some of her suggestions. The getting a job thing alone a preposterous enough idea all by itself that her naming off one thing after another was almost humorous.

"There is a job at Demsky's bank up the street," she told me but then she looked rather disappointed, then started fidgeting with her reading glasses that were hanging on a long gold chain. "But.. they are looking for someone who speaks fluent french.." She looked at me and half frowned. "Don't suppose you speak French?"

At that point in the conversation we had drifted to the breakfast room and sat down at a table, she had been getting up through it all, getting the morning food ready as she placed some of it on a plate bringing it to the table for me. While I still wasn't eating much, she already knew me well enough to have brought me a small piece of quiche on a plate with a tall glass of orange juice.

"Actually I do." I said, my eyes slightly closed as I thought of how Gambit had made me touch him, forcing such horrible memories, habits and emotions into my overcrowded mind. But at that moment, for one of the very first times, I was actually glad.

But what was I happy about? Did I really think I was going to apply for a job? Me? I suppose if I had to, applying for a secretarial position at a bank was far better than a waitress at Alma's Cafe up the street. Yes, much better.

And I didn't want to leave. Canada was becoming a place I liked, even if some of the locals looked at me like I was a purple alien with four heads. I know they get tourists, but I guess not someone who has stayed as long as I have, a person that they know nothing about, living in their small town. Guess they are somewhat suspicious of me, but I would be too. Although they don't look really at me like that anymore.. Not in a while anyway.

Where was I? There is so much to write about that I wish I had written sooner, then there wouldn't be so much to tell.

Oh, so she was duly shocked that a obvious southerner like me, could speak french, and told me about the bank and other details. She then left me behind to ponder, as more people drifted into the breakfast room, occupying her attention. They way she hovers around people, you can just see that she loves being around others, helping them, caring for them.

She came back a minute later, giving me back the key to my room before going to help a pretty blond get a high chair for her baby.

I left the room, my plate empty as was my drinking glass. Sometimes it's hard to drink orange juice, eat certain things, or even be outside when it's raining. But I push those things down inside me, take a couple steps or bites or whatever the occasion calls for and force myself to get past it.

It's hard.

So I went back up to my room, not knowing if I was making the right decision. But Darla was so nice to me, knew what I was going through since she lost her son not even a year ago to cancer, and her husband just months before that to a car accident.

She told me how she coped, thought about what her son and husband would want her to do. Continue her life, remember them.. but live on.

But I've never really experienced death before, have never lost someone that I loved. And I know that if I go back to New York, there will be more. More of that. More deaths, more struggles, more clashing against the tide as I try to help bring Xavier's goals to fruition. But do they need me? What's one person? What difference can I make? Especially now. So many self doubts, criticizing and utter lack of faith in myself and maybe even others.

The next day I found myself up early, still fighting within myself about what I needed to do... If it was time for me to leave. But soon I was walking along the street, the snow crunching under my boots, a light breeze kicking against me, and then I was standing in front of the bank. Looking at some ads in the window and a small one on the right left corner. That said.

Help wanted. Apply within.

It was the largest building on the entire street, a looming large thing, the most corporate looking construction on the whole block, yet that simple sign made it seem less threatening.

I walked inside. There wasn't much activity going on. I saw offices to the left, some electronic bank devices and some TV's in the front where people would talk to tellers over video. That invention alone probably saved a lot of money and prevented robberies. Although the scary part in me, that part I like to keep buried, whether Mike, Gambit or others, found seven ways to circumvent that before I shut those musings in me off.

I went over to the offices, one of the doors was open that was marked Savings and Loans. An older man was looking over something on his computer. I knocked softly on the door. He acknowledged me, his look letting me know that he was wondering what I wanted, and if it was going to take long.

"Can I help you?" He asked me, taking in my casual appearance of jeans, jacket, and my hair pulled back in a ponytail. Nobody around her thinks its that strange that I wear gloves all the time so I don't get too many prolonged stares directed at my hands.

"Yes, um.. " Suddenly my words were hard to get out as it dawned on me what I was doing there.

The man tilted his head to the side, waiting for me to open my mouth and say something, more patiently then I would have been.

"I'm here t'apply for the job.. the secretarial position." I managed to finally say. Almost panicking at that point, wondering if it was too late to make a mad dash for the exit.

The man gave me a very short smile, looked back at his computer, his attention fully focused on that once more.. He brought his hand back behind him, his thumb pointing in that direction.

"See Harold at the end of the hall."

So I found myself making my way down the artificially lighted path. It wasn't a long one and before I could even debate once more with the arguing voices in my head I had reached my destination.

Harold Demsky Bank Manager. Come to think of it wasn't the town called Demsky?

Darla had never told me that the position was for the actual manager. Maybe it hadn't crossed her mind. No way was the actual manager going to want me for his secretary.

So I never knocked. Just stood there and then turned around. Didn't even get three feet before I heard the door behind me open and a voice call out to me.

"Can I help you miss?" A congenial man said, I faced the voice, found the owner easily enough. The only one in the hallway besides me, the one standing in front of the open door, with a crisp business suit on and an expensive looking cell phone in his hand, a mug of steaming coffee in the other. He wasn't as menacing as I had originally imagined, reminded me of those kindly older uncles that some people have, mouth and chin outlined with a well manicured beard, a playful manner hidden underneath his well bred professionalism.

I almost said I was just looking for the bathroom, but before I could he started speaking one more.

"You here to apply for the job?"

"Job?" I echoed back.

"The Teller job."

I knew it wasn't going to be easy. What was I thinking? He didn't even consider me for the job I was there for, automatically put me down as a teller girl.

"No... I was wonderin' if y'still have the secretarial position available?" I was so relieved when I finally got those words out, yet nervous. Although I could see he didn't have the job filled. I had passed an empty desk with dust on it that was actually right behind me where I had been standing at the moment, and looking back over my right shoulder quickly, I confirmed once more that it didn't look like it had been used in a while.

His eyes became two thin slits as he looked me over slowly, not in a leering sort of way, but more of a puzzled fashion.

"How old are you?" he boldly questioned me. "I'm looking for someone who has at least completed High School."

My eyebrows rose, and I almost laughed. Almost.

"Twenty." I told him, making him look at me in that blunt manner again.

"You sure? You look pretty young."

I fiddled with my pocket and brought out my drivers license. He put his phone in his upper left pocket, the cup of coffee on a small marble table that was situated on the side of his door.

"Huh." he said after taking the card and examining it closely. "Follow me."

So he led me into his office, closed the door behind us and handed me back my license.

"From New York.. what brings you up here?"

That question I hadn't been expecting, but I managed a response anyway.

"I've always liked it here." Which wasn't entirely true, Logan liked it here. Although I myself like it up here as well, it was mostly his memories that came to the forefront when he asked me that question.

So he motioned me to a huge leather chair in front of his desk and sat down in an equally large one behind it.

He folded his hands in front of him, something Xavier did before he asked me serious questions.

"I am looking for someone who speaks french.. That is a must. Do you?" I knew he didn't think I did, that he thought he was just being polite and was humoring me. Maybe it was a slow morning and he had time on his hands.

I said a couple things in french, actually more than a few. Saying so many nonsensical things, even poems that I had memorized as a child, or had Gambit? Who knows anymore.

But when I was done he looked pretty impressed, almost ecstatic.

He asked me a couple more questions. References etc... Wonder if Xavier freaked out when he got a call from a Canadian Bank manager? Probably not... He also let me know I would have to get a Canadian ID, although he knew someone who could help me with that.. and then told me how fortuitous it was that I came along.

"I was going to have to hire a translator from the city for tomorrow but that is always difficult, especially at short notice, have some big clients coming in, and it always makes a better presentation when you make an effort for them... But I suppose I am getting ahead of myself. Do you want the job? And can you start tomorrow?"

I hadn't expected such results, especially not my first attempt... although I managed to make my lips move and ask him the hours. Noon to Eight . Monday through Thursday. And then he told me how much I would get paid.

"Is that in Canadian or U.S. dollars?"

He chuckled at that.

"U.S."

That was when my eyes nearly left there sockets. I didn't know it was paying that much.

"Oh." was all I managed. But then I remembered something.

"I should tell y'that I don't know how long I am staying here... my circumstances at the moment are a little confusing." I partially confessed to him, knowing I had to tell him, it wouldn't have been fair otherwise.

"Do you want the job?"

"Yes."

"Then come in tomorrow and we will go from there."

So I did. And now I have been there for about two weeks.

And I like it. Not only does it keep me busy, which is a very good thing at the moment, but it makes me feel responsible, more like an adult. An independent.

I put things away, sort papers, answer the phone, get lunch for him. File in customers to his office and other odd jobs, and about once or twice a week I go into his board room and translate for him. Sometimes I have to sign documents that state I will not divulge anything that I hear in that room. If it wasn't for the Erik in me I wouldn't have known half the things they were talking about in there.

I keep to myself, even if many ask me out to lunch, or even to bars at the end of the work day. But I get along with everyone, except for maybe Stacy... one of the tellers, but that is probably because she had tried applying for the secretarial position and didn't get it.

My boss is very nice. Even suggested a week after I started the job that I could move into some apartments that he owns, and only have to pay half price since I was his employee. Which was more than generous of him. Is there something in the water down here that makes most the people so friendly? I took him up on the offer after I paid Darla what I owed her, and found myself in a apartment complex with more room than I knew what to do with. I still see and talk to Darla, she even brought me a house warming gift, a small fern in a pot, and let me know that I was welcome to breakfast anytime. Free of charge. I guess it's a good thing I got the apartment even if I wouldn't have minded paying almost $100 dollars a day at the bed and breakfast. But money is money and $600 dollars rent a month isn't bad...

Mr. Demsky does have a very obnoxious son though, his ogling eyes and pampered self past annoying. I see the way the other girls act around him, silly and stupid and then jealous when he paid all his attentions to me... Which luckily lessoned when I told him the reason I moved to Canada was because I was hiding from a jealous murdering husband that killed a friend of mine after he started to send me flirtatious emails... But even after I told him that with up most seriousness, knowing he was stilly enough to believe me... he still happened to come upon me when I was walking back to my apartment, walking since it isn't far away, and then offered me a ride in his overly expensive BMW. Like I can't walk a couple blocks unassisted. I started driving after he did that two times... Especially after I started having an urge to tear him out of his car, throw him down in the street and beat the crap out of him, wiping off some of those perfect features that he probably paid for with his fathers money...

I saw Andrew again two days ago. I had been taking my lunch break, drinking a Dr. Pepper and eating a small bowl of soup when he came upon me, sat down in my booth across from me and smiled widely. What is it with some of the men in this town?

Suffice to say I almost didn't recognize him, he was out of uniform, looked younger than I remember, his features more agreeable because of it's absence.

"So I finally found you again."

I put my spoon down, not as frustrated as I could have been and directed my eyes toward him.

"What do y'want?"

"As nice as ever I see."

I rolled my eyes.

"I'm trying to eat here." I picked up my utensil, clanking the spoon in the bowel which caused some of the liquid to shoot out, unfortunately none of it landed on him.

"That eating?.. You on a diet or something?.. Because you look fine to me.. "

I didn't like the way Andrew said that to me. The flirty way in which his words were spoken rubbed me the wrong way. I dropped my spoon and started to put on my coat.

"Where you going?"

"Away from you." I said icily, thinking about how I should have made myself a sandwich and then I could have eaten at the office.

"Still don't like me?"

"I don't like or dislike you, I just don't want to talk to you."

A waitress came by and started to take his order, I took that as a distraction to leave the booth. He stopped ordering, told the waitress he would be back, grabbed his jacket and gloves that he had taken off and came after me.

I was outside, walking quickly past the restaurant when he caught up with me.

"Have you found what you are looking for yet?"

"I'm not looking for anythin'!" I practically screamed at him, not ceasing my walking away from him as I did so.

"Could've fooled me." His words as soft as mine had been loud.

I had stopped at that point, facing him as he spoke, watching him cautiously. Even looking around me to see and feel if there was any more of his people around the area, there wasn't. He was alone.

"What do y'want from me?"

Andrew seemed to ponder on my inquiry.

"Five minutes." he told me. "Come back to the diner. Please." His voice was pleading with me, his eyes upon me. "I have something I want to tell you."

I don't know exactly what made me go back with him. But I did. It was probably more because I was hungry then wanting to hear what he had to tell me. Those five minutes turning into thirty. While I still didn't trust the guy, there was just something about him them was almost likable and very genial that I didn't really regret doing so. But it was also because of the first thing he had told me once I sat back down in the booth we had just left, that caused me to stay longer than I originally wanted... My soup was still there when we got back, as was my drink. Andrew watched me as I took off my coat. When I didn't take my gloves off I think he assumed I wasn't quite committed to staying where I was so he didn't start speaking until I took a sip of my soda. Bet it would have freaked him out if he knew what my gloves really symbolized.

"I left the Friends of Humanity."

My eyes widened at that, but not for long, like I was going to take stock in his words. He could be just saying that for so many reasons.

I didn't say anything, but once he saw I wasn't going to try to dart out of there again he continued.

"It was something that I have been thinking about for a while. When I first joined I believed in the cause, but as months passed and then a year.. I started to question their motives, their ultimate goals and found, while I did want retribution, maybe even revenge, there way was not my way... And then coming upon you that day a while back, was like a punch in the head. My parents always hated the fact that I took up with them, but I didn't listen to them..But the way you acted toward me that day, a total stranger... it just.. was the added push I needed."

"I don't know what t'say t'that." I said, with honesty.

"You don't have to say anything, I'm just glad I ran across you before I got in too deep."

And so we continued to talk.

I even managed to finished my soup.

And then some of his words shook me as they landed in my ears.

"Have you lost someone recently?"

I choked on the soda I had been trying to swallow.

"Why would y'ask me that question?" I started reaching for my coat again.

"Please.." he begged, wanting me to stay where I was. "It's just that I have seen your look before...staring back at me in the mirror... after my sister died."

My mouth was slightly open and I felt tears building up in my eyes. But I gained control fast.

"I don't want t'talk about it!" I shot out at him. Grabbing my stuff to leave.

But Andrew stopped me by nearly placing a forbidden hand on mine. I pulled my arm back. Giving him a threatening look.

"It does help to talk about it.. believe me I know."

Some sort of clarity came to me then. I sat there for a couple long drawn out seconds. Just looking at Andrew. He was after all a stranger, and he couldn't cause me any more harm if I told him. I found myself putting my hand into my pocket and drawing out a folded up photo.

I handed it to him, he opened it up slowly.

It was a picture of Scott and Jean that I had found in the glove compartment, for some reason I hadn't been able to rip her half off.

I swear I saw a flash of recognition, but it was gone too quickly for me to believe that I had. But that had happened when he had been looking on the right side of the picture, where Jean was located.

His eyes finally drifted to the left side.

"Nice glasses." Andrew muttered and I knew he was looking at Scott. He looked up at me and then down on the table where some of my stuff was located. "Kind of look like yours."

So I told him a little about Scott, what had happened in a round about way. Even how on the weekends I had been going to different hospitals near by, that maybe, someway, somehow he had ended up at. Although, while the residents around here might have been nice, the hospital staff was anything but forthcoming most not even cordial. And after every hospital I visited, my hope dwindled down becoming just a faint whisper in my mind that was soon to be gone. I don't understand what made me go to the hospitals to begin with, just a compulsion I couldn't ignore.

That is what I had been doing on the day of Scott's funeral. Looking for him. Ironic I know.

But I can't help it.

"Can I get a copy of this? My mother is a resident doctor and she might be able to help."

So we ended up at a nearby copy shop where he got a color duplicate made of the left side, it was very weird, me giving Scott's picture to a suppose ex friends of humanity guy. But if Scott was really dead what harm could it do?

We finally left each others company after he scribbled down a phone number on a piece of paper and shoved it into my hand.

"Call me if you need someone to talk to. And I'll let you know if I find out anything."

I had given him my work phone number, which he had written down on the back of a receipt.

So I went back to my job, almost forgetting to pick up a bouquet of flowers at the local floral shop that had been ordered for two of Mr. Demsky's favorite customers, who were celebrating their 45th anniversary...

It was later that evening when there was a knock on my door. One that was way too familiar. I knew it was her even before I looked out the peek hole. It wasn't just the knock, she had a most distinctive smell, especially her shampoo that had the slight scent of sunscreen and always reminded me of the beach.. that my nose picked up before she even entered the hallway that led to my apartment.

Opening the door after unlocking it I looked at my visitor.

"Took you long enough.. Man you were hard to find, should've asked you were your apartment was located.. the woman at the hotel wouldn't even tell me where you lived until I convinced her I was a friend of yours. And then I had to walk all the way over here in the snow," she looked down at her feet, kicking them on the rug outside my door. "Not even wearing the right shoes, Logan did tell me it can get cold down here, but I forgot to pack a heavier coat, and are you going to invite me in our what?"

"Jubilee!"

"So you remember me?" She picked up her suitcase on the floor beside her and walked past me, looking around she turned her attention back to me.

"Yeah, the person I've been talkin' t'on the phone every night for the past two weeks." We have been talking more regularly, things not so strained. She would talk about new arrivals. I would talk about my job. She would tell me about missions she had been on, and I would feel a little empty for not being there myself. Of course we talked about more serious matters, Scott's funeral being at the top of the list. I never said much when she went there, but managed to listen to her without crying, at least not loud enough for her to pick it up on the other end.

"I guess you're going for the sparse look?" She scoffed, giving me a sideways look that showed off her amusement.

True enough the only furniture in the whole apartment was all located in the front room. There was a bed and a small night stand with a lamp on it. A mini refrigerator and a couple dishes and cookware I had bought. A small sofa that had been there when I arrived.

Jubilee dropped her stuff and went and laid down on the bed, not bothering to take her shoes or coat off, the hat she had been wearing falling off her head. She moaned with what sounded like contentment as she tugged on one of my pillows and put it under her head.

"Jubilee?"

She opened her eyes which had been closed and looked up at me.

"What?"

"Y'goin' t'tell me what y'are doin' here.. and why didn't y'tell me y'were coming?"

"You would have just tried to talk me out of it.. and I am here because I have some things I have to tell you.. too important to tell you over the phone." she sat up, bit her bottom lip and looked anxious yet excited about something. "Do you have any caffeine around here?"

I got her a drink and then sat down beside her. Jubilee opened the can I had given her and took a long drink, let out a pleased sigh and then placed it on the carpet below us both.

And then she started to speak. Words pouring out of her lips that tore through the air between us and plummeted into my ears.

Most of the things she said I just listened to in silence, my eyes becoming large...

Jean was gone, she disappeared the day before Jubilee showed up, destroying the med lab in the basement. Jubilee let me know she would have told me the night before if she had known then.

"Nobody knows where she had gone.. and the Professor is having difficulties locating her with Cerebro... Logan has gone after her, but hasn't found her yet."

I know from what Jubilee has told me that Jean wasn't doing very well, and although Xavier was trying to help her he didn't seem to be getting through to her, or making any headway.

"Logan did?"

"Yeah, I think they might have started something before she left."

I kinda already had that impression before I had gone to Canada, so that wasn't any news to me.

"That's not all is it?"

Jubilee got off the bed, making her way to her suitcase, she popped it open and pulled out some documents that were lying on top of some clothes.

"Read this." She told me, handing me some papers.

I read the beginning of it..

"This can't be right." I told Jubilee after I had scanned through some of it. I got off the bed and made my way to her, she had been trying to give me a little space and had taken to looking intently out the window.

"It is Rogue. It's Scott's will... and he left you everything."

I stared at the figure again. I knew Scott had dabbled in stocks and other things, investing here and there.. but I never knew...

"Seven million, six hundred and forty seven thousand, eight hundred and thirty two dollars.. " Jubilee recited, having already memorized that which was left to me.

"This cant be right." I said again, my mind in a repetitive loop. I shook the papers in my hand, the rustling sound that caused amplifying my anxiety.

"It is, his will was read after the funeral.. Scott also left you his cars and motorcycles and even a house."

"But what about Jean?"

"What about her? When he wrote that she was thought dead.. and for all we know she killed him.. you really think she deserves that?" I heard the sudden hostility in her voice directed at Jean. Something I haven't heard coming from her before.

I sat back down on the bed, staring at the papers in my hand.

"Why would Scott do this?.. He should have left it t'Xavier.. not me."

"Are you kidding? The Professor has way more than enough, and of course Scott left it to you, he loved you Rogue... a lot."

"Why Didn't y'tell me this sooner? The funeral was over three days ago." I asked her, my tone accusatory.

"I know, I'm sorry. I wanted to tell you in person and Xavier wanted to get it all in order first.. you forgive me?"

Jubilee sat down beside me again, looking me over carefully. Her eyes taking in my clothes that were loose, my hair that was shorter, and my appearance in general. She frowned deeply, shook her head in a troubled manner, shifted and then hugged me, me holding onto the papers in my hand as if they were stuck to me.

"I don't know what I am going t'do." I told her in a low whisper, tears falling down my face, landing on the last will and testament of one Scott Summers.

We talked some more after that, about everything in between the sun and the moon. Jubilee let me know that Ororo had dropped her off and that she would be coming back for her in a week. Telling me she was staying with me, and did I have any extra blankets? And were there any good restaurants around because she was starved. Although I sure looked like I could use some food myself.

Man I really did miss her.

So we went out to dinner, Jubilee talking non stop as she tried to make me laugh and smile. She managed both a couple times, even if they weren't quite real, but close.

The food was good, her company was nice. The drive back and forth pleasant.

When we got back Jubilee said she would sleep on the couch, even after I argued with her that she could have the bed. I wouldn't even have minded sharing with her, not really, but she looks comfortable enough...

She arrived on a Thursday and for the last day and a half I have been showing her around, walking with her, talking more and even crying some.

But things are getting better, even if sometimes I wish they weren't.

The heartbreak is still with me, the feeling as if I am not quite whole is still there..

But the sun keeps rising and setting, the moon continues to shine. The snow falls.

Light is still penetrating, darkness is still and calming.

I am not the mess I was. I am coming to terms with what has happened. Tearing down my deniability and trying to accept things.

Scott is dead, I am alive.

When is this horrible feeling going to go away?

When am I going to wake up and feel blessed not cursed? Contentment not agony?

When I let Scott go?

I can't.

Never.

Not ever.

I am not Rogue.

I am Sorrow.