Merry Christmas everyone (little late…) and a very happy New Year! (heh heh…little early.) Please enjoy the remainder of your holidays as best you can. Gee, aren't I the little ball of optimism?

Aww, do I *HAVE* to do this? What's this; you say I could get SUED if I don't? OK…I give in…I DO *NOT* own the x-men. Happy?

Chapter 7

Christmas had come and gone in a flurry of brightly wrapped paper and ribbon. Rogue had helped Sarah pick out things that everyone would like, and like them they did. It was uncanny how well these people knew each other, how attached they were to every last member. Kitty had *loved* the pink scarf, the Professor wouldn't stop reading the book on psychology, Kurt had given her a *hug* for the three fingered gloves that she had asked Jean to help her make. The reactions were similar from the whole group: each person loved his/her gift. Marrow had received gifts from others as well, including a heavy metal CD, which Logan had grimaced at the sight of. No-one could really blame him, and were planning on giving Bobby a hard time of it when Marrow wasn't around.

Today, for the first time since the morlock massacre, she was FEELING. She could feel the warmth in the mansion, and she knew that at last, she had found the Christmas comfort that had been so lacking in oftentimes for her before.

But I can't forget. Not now. Can never forget them.

There was a knock at the door

" 'S open."

The whole motley crew rushed in, Kitty and Kurt immediately jumping on the bed. Her nerves gave a warning grind, before her brain reminded her that it was Christmas.

"Merry Christmas, Marrow!" the gang chorused.

Scott stood a little back from everyone, clearly not happy with this idea. She had yet to prove her loyalty in his eyes. She made a point of ignoring him while looking up at the rest with gratitude in her eyes.

"Thanks…"

This seemed to be enough for the remainder of the gang, who nodded, split their faces in wide grins, and filed out. Scott remained behind for a few seconds, before saying gruffly,

"Merry Christmas," making it obvious whether he wanted to or not that his heart wasn't in it.

"Yeah," she replied to his fast-vanishing back before the door creaked shut.

It was then that she made up her mind. She needed to go home, if only for an hour. God, how she missed it there, the smell of the sewers, the thrill of 'borrowing ' a garbage sweeper train to get errands done.

They won't miss me. she thought with absolute certainty. I'll leave a note, just in case one of 'em gets in here and realizes that I'm not here.

Scrawling a note on a receipt that lay abandoned on her dresser, she pulled on the old clothes that she had arrived in, the ones that she had insisted that professor Xavier not throw away. "Emotional value," she had stated bluntly.

Slipping through the hallways and into the main entrance, she had almost made it to the front door, when…

"Hey kid. Where you goin'?" he said, not a question, just a statement that he knew she was out of bed when she shouldn't be.

"Out."

"Don't ya be gettin' short with me, darlin'. It's up ta me ta decide whether or not yer grounded fer life."

"To the sewers," she remarked in an offhand tone, enjoying the effect that these words were having on him. The mighty Wolverine was getting a twitch by his mouth, thinking hard.

"The…sewers?"

"Yeah, it's where I lived before here, REMEMBER?"

"How long were ya with the morlocks?"

"From when I was orphaned until the massacre."

For the first time, Marrow saw Logan show some feeling.

"Off ya go…but be back before breakfast…or Chuck'll have my bones in his bread. Very metallic bread, that."

Marrow flashed a grin behind her, before sprinting off into the dark between the trees.

"Goodnight Logan," said Charles Xavier, wheeling out of the kitchen carrying a glass of water.

Marrow's POV
I went down the manhole outside of the old cinema: the one that closed down in 1999 and no one bothered to rebuild. The sewer smell rose to meet me like an old friend, and a welcome one at that. Looking around, I knew EXACTLY where I was. After all, another half mile, and I was back to where I started out. In the beginning, that is.
Suddenly, everything opened up into a huge open area, the ground covered in green grass, and the moon shining in through skylights in the huge ceiling. On the ground…were the graves.
I inhaled sharply. Where had this come from? Who had DONE this? I'd never been back to the morlock hideout since the massacre, and if I thought about this, it became apparent that this…place…this place might not be so new.
Sitting on my heels, rocking back and forth, I just let the tears flow, tracing hot, fiery paths over my cheekbones and stopping at my mouth, making me taste their salty substance. I didn't care, just let my entire body by silent sobs. It felt so GOOD, to let your emotions out, but I was not to dwell on this at that very moment. My heart was aching, and I just wanted to be down in a grave like the rest of them. My bone growth was beginning again to be painful and uncontrollable in any way. Just like it always was. Probably always will be. The blood leaked out of my temple, joining the tears in my mouth, a strangely comforting sensation. There was a metallic taste to the blood, and I sipped it greedily, wanting my death. Willing my death. I could almost see my skeleton, surrounded by a pile of excess bones.
I giggled uncontrollably at the thought, imagining my decaying skull grinning back at me from this same spot twenty years from now, which of course just made me laugh harder. I knew death would come soon, loosing this much blood was impossible. I was fighting my healing factor, denying it access to the damaged area.
"Hey, stop that petite!"
It was the Cajun. How he found me…but I'll be…wonderful blanketing darkness…swimming light…then darkness once more. A dull pain was being emitted from the area of my face, just enough to be mildly annoying. A buzz of a bee, or a fly that won't go away. Standing up to swat it, the wonderful blackness where my mind could be void of all feelings and pain vanished, to be replaced with a pair of narrowed red-on-black eyes.
The dry blood was cracking and peeling on my face, causing it to feel tight and stiff.
"So, de petite be wanting to join de world again? How trés amusante, non?"
"Look…I…"
"Petite went a little crazy…eh?"
"Yes. A little."
Gambit gave a remorseful glance around the room, before turning back to Marrow, feigned happiness plastered across every feature.
"Let's go home."
"Yeah."
Merde! This is all my fault…
"Gambit?"
He put on a brave face, trying to look upright, though in truth only a few years older than her,
"Oui?"
"Don't tell the professor?"
"Oui."
Sorry, my computer has this weird habit of messing up the formatting of an HTML document. I apologise…
RRREEEVVVIIIEEEWWW!!!