"Why did you have to go on?"

"Too many people told me to stop."

-Lauren Bacall and Humphrey Bogart, "The Big Sleep"

EPILOGUE

The night was cool; it helped to wake them up a bit as they walked towards the garage. Maybe it was the reason Rogue was shivering, too, but Remy doubted it. She was holding her suitcases, one firmly in each hand, and she was staring up at the house.

"Shouldn't look back," he whispered.

"Ah can look back if Ah want."

Remy shrugged, and resumed walking, while Rogue resumed her staring. There were no lights on, except the kitchen light which she hadn't turned off, but she couldn't see that from where she was.

Suddenly, one switched on in one of the rooms. A figure was silhouetted against the orangeish light. A shiver ran down her spine; it was the same room that had held the person who had seen her on the night of the murder, in Gambit's blood splattered trench coat.

It was Bobby's room.

He didn't wave, or call anything, he just watched her, and she watched back. It would be a silent goodbye. It would have to do.

Remy had gotten his bike from the garage, and had it revved up. It seemed to be growling impatiently at Rogue, so she turned from the house and flew quickly to the garage to get her car.

When she drove out into the driveway, Gambit was still there, waiting. She pulled up alongside him.

He smiled at her. Not a bitter smile, or even inappropriate. A hopeful one. "So, where do you wanna go, chere?"

Rogue considered. "Not anywhere that you or Ah grew up in."

"But dat leaves pretty much the whole world."

"Yeah, that's it. That's where Ah wanna go, Remy."

"Si vous insistez, chere." The motorcycle roared down the driveway, and Rogue pressed down on the gas and roared after him.

* * *

Xavier was staring out of his office window. He seemed incapable of looking her in the eye. He looked so tired, and Jean felt momentarily bitter. A fine birthday present you've given him, Scott Summers.

"I didn't know exactly what had happened- "

"But you sensed something was wrong." She let her words float gently in the air. No projectile phrases, no attacks here. This was the aftermath. This was the part where they gathered up the dead and sent them back home in wooden boxes. "I know. I sensed it, too."

"I never guessed that Scott would send them away."

Neither had Jean. But of course he had. We should have known.

"This wound will take a long time to heal," Xavier went on.

It will scar. "Yes. Nothing new in that."

"I could countermand the order," Xavier mused. "Tell them to come back."

"You know you can't. Things never would have been the same, regardless of how they turned out. Even if Scott had left everything alone." I wish he had left everything alone...

"But he did what he thought right." Xavier frowned, and said more softly, "He did what was right." It sounded almost like a question, though.

Oh, my Scott, how come we haven't broken you yet? But Scott hadn't broken since the plane crash, not even when she was thought dead, or so Jean had heard. "Yes, he did. And that's all we can ask of him."

"I know."

And they both fell silent and listened to the breeze outside. It was shaping up to be a very sunny day.