She was tired. No, that was an understatement, she was mind-numbingly exhausted. Her body ached and not just from the healing wounds but also from finally being able to relax after over a month of constant tension. Her mind was blank, her thoughts sluggish and fuzzy, only half realised before they faded away like wisps of smoke. She lay in the bed, staring at the ceiling of the medical bay and letting the quiet music of her favourite instrumental CD wash through her consciousness.
It was over. After all those long, painful, shadow-filled days, after all the pain and sorrow, all the struggles and fights, it was finally, blessedly over. Adams was dead, Kendell was dead, ninety per cent of the guards were dead and every guard who'd tortured her and Jean was dead, the prisoners were free and getting long-needed medical attention and counselling… it was over.
She couldn't comprehend the fact, couldn't understand how her world could suddenly be normal again. It was too sudden, too unexpected, there had been no dramatic buildup or cryptic clues. One minute, she was being forced to dance for the sadistic satisfaction of a now-dead bastard and the next, she was lying in a comfy, warm bed at the Xavier Institute medical bay. She didn't have to fight for her survival any more, didn't have to worry about getting killed, didn't have to hide in the corners, hoping and praying that the guards would chose someone else to torment tonight. It didn't make any sense.
Rogue sighed and rolled onto her side, wincing as small flickers of pain fought their way through the medications Hank had given her to remind her that she was still healing.
How could she explain it? She knew that they all wanted to ask even more questions, wanted to know, to understand, what had happened to her, but she didn't know how to put it into words. How could she hope to explain the terrifying horror of being kidnapped and forced to fight, and kill, other mutants while people watched and cheered? How could she describe the sickening feel of humiliation as she danced and stripped for Kendell and the others? How could she tell them that she wasn't the person they knew, that she had been changed by her experiences?
Because in the end, that's what it came down to, she'd been changed. Before, she'd been cynical and jaded and withdrawn, but she had still been innocent, in some respects. Now she wasn't. And what made it worse was that she didn't belong here, in this place, any more. She didn't belong in the bright, sunshiny world that the others lived in. She couldn't share in their happiness and laughter, couldn't join in with their fun and games. She belonged in the shadows, with tears and blood and pain.
She wasn't sure why she thought of it, or even when. It seemed like the thought had always been there, lurking in the back of her mind, waiting for the right moment, because once she did think it, it seemed terribly simple and so very right.
It would hurt them, and she knew that they probably wouldn't understand, but she couldn't bring herself to care about that. It was the only answer, and she accepted it gracefully.
Forcing her drug-heavy body to move, she sat up and found a pad of paper and a pen on the cabinet next to the bed. It took more effort than she would have liked to scribble down a brief message and she let the pen fall to the floor when she was done, taking a moment to try and gain some control over her body.
Walking proved to be a bit of a difficulty, but she found that if she took it slow and put one hand on the wall for balance, she could walk in a relatively straight line. The corridor was thankfully empty and after a few steps she remembered that Hank had said something about them 'talking about the situation'. Good, that meant there was less chance of running into someone.
She managed to get outside without being spotted and she stood for a moment, catching her breath and letting the sun soak into her skin. It felt strange, to be standing in the sunlight with a soft breeze brushing against her skin. Just another little reminder that she didn't belong in this happy world anymore.
It was harder to walk outside, the ground was uneven and there were no walls to lean against when she got tired. She nearly fell into the pool when a wave of dizziness washed through her unexpectedly, and she tripped more times than she could count. She ended up crawling the last few feet, feeling the stones and pebbles dig into her skin but not actually hurting, thanks to the painkillers.
When she reached the edge of the cliff, she forced herself to stand and look down at the jagged rocks that stood amongst the waves. What she thought, she wasn't sure, but it caused a single tear to roll down her cheek.
She glanced back over her shoulder at the Institute, wishing for a moment that she could say goodbye to them in person, that they could understand and wish her well on this final step of her journey. She wanted to give Kitty one of the hugs that the Valley girl was always pushing for. She wanted to tell Scott that she was sorry, that she wished things had turned out differently. She wanted to thank Logan for understanding, better than anyone else, what she had been through, emotionally and mentally. She wanted to thank the Professor for everything he'd done, for giving her a family and a place to call home.
Rogue sighed and looked away from the Institute, staring at her bare feet as she shuffled forward so that her toes were just poking out over the edge. For a second, she found herself unable to move, too scared to go forward and unable to go back, but then the second passed and she jumped.
The wind rushed past her, whipping at her hair and making her breath catch in her throat. It was like she was flying, soaring above the world that she could no longer live in. She forced her eyes open and found the murky depths of the ocean rushing up to meet her, the shadows waiting to swallow her whole. She smiled.
I'm sorry. I don't belong here anymore. You are my family and I love you. Goodbye.