I decided to go somewhere warm. The cold air just made me feel hallow. And for some reason it reminded me of Jeannie. What the fuck happened to her before we got there? I couldn't believe it.

Dead.

Jeannie can't be dead.

Fuck. Jeannie's dead.

I pulled over twenty miles into Pennsylvania. I had decided to go to California. It would take days, I knew, but I didn't care. I had to get away from New York. Away from the pain. I knew I was being a coward. What choice did I have? It's sorta weird when you think about it though. It seems I'm in the most control when I'm running away from something. I decide. It fucking sucks.

Luckily this time I was twenty-one so I wasn't a "run-away." No one would fuck with me or call the police. I even had a motorcycle and didn't have to hitch a ride from horny truck drivers. I had a few thousand dollars in my pocket. Yeah. I know. That's safe as shit, ain't it?

I had made pretty good money the few weeks I had been teaching at Mutant High. Considering the fact that I didn't have to pay taxes or rent.

Shit.

Just that afternoon I had been teaching self-defense to teenage mutants. I ate lunch and dinner with my "family." With Jeannie. That'll never happen again. Jean will never smile at me again. She was the "sister" in my fucked up "family."

I have no idea where Logan would have fit in my family synerio. Nor did I have the energy to think about it.

Suddenly, I became very aware of the fact that I was sitting at the bar surrounded by drunken men who were starting to notice my tears.

"Hey, baby" one of the particularly dirty ones grumbled "What are you cryin' 'bout? Can I make ya feel betta'?"

I had a pretty good idea about how he planned on "making me feel better." So I decided to pass.

"What's 'a toots? Don't like me?"

"Leave me alone," I said in a surprisingly steady voice considering the situation. A lot of the customers at the bar laughed and the dirty one just came closer.

He put a hand on my hip, and I jerked away. But he made no move to take it back. I was starting to get nervous. Not for my safety, for his. As much as I disliked the guy, I'd had enough of death for one day.

"Get away from me."

He chuckled at that. "What are ya gonna do if I don't?"

He never got an answer to that question though because he was suddenly jerked back and thrown against a wall. I stared at his unconscious body in shock.

"You okay, chere?"

I snapped my head back to see a guy about my age and obviously a mutant standing there looking at me with concerned eyes.

"I'm fine." I snapped at him. I hate playing the damsel act. I am after all an x-man... er... was an x-man.

It only made him grin though. He stuck out a hand.

"I'm Remy," is all he said.

"Rogue," I respond taking the hand.

By then a small crowd of glaring people had gathered around us. We obviously weren't welcome. I had never shown my power though so I didn't know what the problem they had with me was. I decided to leave anyways.

Yup. That's me. Rogue, she who runs away from any and every problem. I guess more of Logan was stuck in me than I had thought.

Then I noticed that Remy had followed me outside.

I pivoted and glared at him.

"Is there something I can help you with?"

"Remy wanted to know if you were da x-man, Rogue."

I soften a little. He didn't seem to have any bad intensions, and any mention of my home from just that morning was one enough to make me cry. I managed to block the tears though.

"I used to be an x-man. A couple of hours ago in fact." I say.

This seems to confuse him though.

"Look, it's a long story. I'll see you around." I turn and head for my motorcycle, but his voice calls out to me again.

"Where are you goin', chere? Remy don't mean to pry, but Remy is stranded."

Rogue looked at the man, Remy, for a second and then decided she would try to help him.

"I was about to find a hotel or something to get some sleep. I can give you a ride there." I suggested and his face lit up.

"Thank you," he says and follows me to my bike and climbs on behind me.