'Now boardingat platform seventeen, final destination Calgary, Alberta. Please have your ticketson hand.'

Rogue grasped her own ticket tightly even though it was securely in the pocket of her coat. Standing up from the bench she had been waiting on, she tried to make her way over to the line of passengers waiting to board. It was a funny feeling to be surrounded by so many people and feel so completely out of place. They all had family or jobs or lives or something to go to, and what did she have? Nothing. No job, a family who was probably lucky to see their freak of a daughter leave, and no friends to speak of in the real world. Ever since she'd left the school, the doubts had started to sneak around her mind, and to make matters worse the line to get on the train was moving so slowly that it gave her plenty of time to turn around.

"Trying to catch a train on a Saturday morning is worse than having your teeth pulled, wouldn't you agree?" Spoke the man standing in line in front of her, turning around to chat amiably with her. He seemed nice enough- a suit, well trimmed hair, and a smile. If she had to guess his age, she'd say he was about as old as her dad, mid to upper fifties maybe. His hair was graying a bit, but traces of its original jet black color lingered under his black bowler hat. His eyes, though, they were the key feature of his face, the first part that Rogue's own eyes were drawn to. Something about the way the silver flecks on top of the blue glittered didn't fit the rest of him, but she couldn't quite decide on what it was. She didn't make it a habit of making conversation with complete strangers, but his presence put her at ease for some reason. And to be honest, Rogue had become somewhat lonely waiting by herself, so even meaningless chit-chat made her feel a little less sick to be leaving.

"Yeah. Why's it so slow?" She wondered out loud, wrinkling her forehead and eyeing the line curiously.

"They have posted extra security checks, although they've declined now. You should have seen it after that mutant attack on the station. It took hours to even get on a train for weeks following that because of all the procedures the government was going through with identifying other possible 'terrorist' mutants. It's paranoid, acting as if they were all out to get us." He replied, shaking his head, half in amusement and half in vexation, "But enough about politics. Where are you headed?"

Rogue listened as he talked and was actually impressed. For a human he seemed to be, for the most part anyway, unconvinced by all the media hype. Not that she'd met a whole slew of humans since she'd discovered she wasn't one or anything, but just the general feeling they gave off usually scared her a little. Just like when she'd met Bobby's family and she could almost feel the... hate wasn't the right word, but a sort of revulsion that something like them even existed. This guy, though, seemed sensible enough and seeing as she wasn't really a mutant anymore she guessed she had nothing to worry about.

"Calgary, I'm going all the way." She responded, a little more amicable than before, "What about you?"

"Fargo, North Dakota." He said, then paused thoughtfully and looked her over. She watched him uncomfortably and realized she hadn't really brought any means of self-defense, other than her hands of course. He wouldn't try anything in a crowded train station, though, she hoped. After a moment, he seemed to come back to reality with a shake of his head and a cool smile. Instead of making her comfortable now, though, it sent a little chill up her spine as she finally moved forward enough to hand her ticket to the man at the train entrance and board.

"I don't think I caught your name." The man commented lightly as he also stepped aboard the compartment.

"Jesse Sheppard." Rogue lied deftly and shrugged her bag back onto her shoulder, "And you?"

"Christian Doyle."

He stopped at one of the empty rows of seats and moved in, keeping his briefcase close at hand as he did and nodding politely to Rogue as she continued to make her way back, "It was a pleasure meeting you, Ms. Sheppard. Maybe we will bump into each other again before the train stops?"

"You too." She replied, purposely ignoring the end of his sentence as she tried to create some distance between them. Seven rows back she managed to find an empty seat next to an already dosing man and slid into it quickly. Now that she had a little room to breathe, she calmed down a little. It was ridiculous to be afraid of some guy she just met, especially one who had been so polite, but he'd spooked her a little.

'It's just jitters.' She told herself. It hadn't been like this was the first time she was on her own; she could take care of herself. Taking a deep breath, she closed her eyes and relaxed, letting the rumble of the train chugging forward and the soft chattering of people on board lull her to sleep.

It must have been an hour or so later when she woke up to her knee being brushed lightly aside by the man in the seat next to her. He excused himself and continued to slip past, making a beeline for the bathroom as soon as he had. Blinking, Rogue rolled her shoulders a little and yawned, pulling her knees up to her chest with the intention of going back to sleep as soon as the man returned. Closing her eyes, she could feel the vibrations of the train below her seat and then heard the approaching footsteps. Assuming it was the man coming to claim his seat back, she glanced up. Much to her displeasure she saw the somewhat familiar eyes of Mr. Doyle, now sitting at the vacated seat across the aisle from her own.

"Hello, Ms. Sheppard. I was wondering if you would be so kind as to continue our earlier conversation?" He began in the same polite tone that Rogue was beginning to find a bit grating to her nerves.

Yeah, sure, why don't we just swap phone numbers while we're at it, creepo? was what she wanted to reply, but instead nodded with the hope that whoever had been sitting at that seat earlier would come back to get it, and soon.

"Very good." He began, and then rubbed his hands together contemplatively, "I am sorry if I bothered you earlier," He lowered his voice as he went on and made sure the people behind and in front of him were distracted, "But I know what you are. You're a mutant."

"What? I don't know what you think you're talking about, Mr. Doyle, but-" Rogue began to argue assertively, but he cut her off.

"Don't try to lie to me. You are not very good at it."

Rogue frowned, and then bit her lip, knowing she'd been discovered, but not quite ready to give up, "Look, maybe I was a-" she bit back her words as someone walked passed them, and then hissed, her voice much quieter, "mutant for awhile, but I'm not anymore. Why does it matter anyways, do you have a problem with them or something?" She asked, suddenly defensive. If he wanted to have some sort of 'belief' battle, he'd picked a bad day. It was tough enough to leave her friends, she was not about to let someone spout off on their ill conceived misconceptions towards them.

"I certainly hope not." He muttered, and it was then she noticed why his eyes had attracted so much attention from her earlier. There was power behind them, a sort of vibrancy she'd only ever seen in the eyes of other mutants, especially the strong ones. It'd been in Magneto's eyes, Xavier's eyes, and the Phoenix's eyes. Now she knew why she'd been worried. That kind of ability, especially considering it was an unknown ability, demanded respect and consideration.

"And as much as you want to convince yourself otherwise, Ms. Sheppard," He continued, still in his low voice, "You are not cured, you never will be. People of your level... human treatments are not designed for medicating them."

"Why are you telling me this?" Rogue demanded quietly, feeling the train slowing. It may not have been Canada, but she didn't care anymore, she just wanted off. Now she knew she was scared and her first choice of response would be flight over fight. But if it came down to it, she was more than ready to defend herself, tooth and nail.

"Because you're in danger and I have a proposition for you." He said calmly, the business-like air back in his voice as he leaned closer across the aisle. Now that she was the item being talked about so serenely, the conversation was anything but relaxed.

"You'll be the one in danger if you come anywhere near me." She shot back as the train slowed to a stop. Instantly, her hand reached for her bag and she dragged it out from under her seat and threw it on, ready to run.

"Then you don't believe me." He concluded quietly, "Pity, someone with your skills wasted in such a way." As he finished, Rogue was already up and moving towards the exit with Christian watching her from his leaning position in the seat, "I wish you luck, my dear. You are going to need it."

Shoving her way past the rest of the people trying to exit the train, she finally made it to the solid ground again. The Syracuse station was relatively crowded, all things considered, and she ducked into the nearest bathroom as quickly as she could without drawing attention to herself. Pushing open the door to one of the stalls, she slipped in and locked it behind her, leaning against it and taking a deep breath. Now she wished more than ever that she hadn't left the school. At least there she knew people she could turn to for advice, maybe get some help from. Now what would she do?

Rely on yourself, you're smart enough.

If what he'd said was true, if she really was in danger, then she needed a plan. And if there was one thing she'd gotten good at over the years, it was thinking on her feet. Whatever or whoever was out to get her would have a lot more on their hands than they expected.

-----

"Logan, what is that?"

Logan started in surprise at Storm's voice. It really wasn't fair of her to sneak up on him like that; she always walked so quietly. He took a puff on his cigar and turned around nonchalantly.

"What, you mean this?" He said pointing to the cigar, "It's a Cuban, got a problem with that?"

"Would you stop if I did?" She asked, crossing her arms. He could hear the hint of amusement in her voice. Hey, at least he was smoking outside for once. The temperature was on the cooler side, so most of the students were indoors and out of the way of his 'destructive influence'.

"Nope." He said from the corner of his mouth and then took another puff.

"I was talking about what's in your back pocket. The phone." She nodded in the direction she was indicating. He followed the aim of her attention to the corner of his back pocket out of which was poking the small black and blue corner of one of the school's communicators. Damn. It had been all the way in earlier, but of course it'd moved its way into sight right in time for Storm to see it. The last thing he wanted to do was get her all worked up into a frenzy over a problem he was confident he'd already handled.

"I'm waiting for a call." He replied vaguely, only making eye contact momentarily as he continued to smoke. What was with these people and their constant need to know everything? Questions made him antsy, especially when he already had other things on his mind.

"From who?" Storm inquired suspiciously, "And don't you dare try to lie to me, I will find out."

"Kurt." He answered, again only giving up as much information as he could to answer the question. He was probably driving her insane, but he hoped she would take the hint and back off. She didn't.

"Now why would Kurt need to call you, Logan. Couldn't he just talk to you in person, seeing as how you're both on the campus and everything?" She questioned, but it was more rhetorical than he would have liked it to be. He had to admit that she certainly was persistent and, in a way, he was almost glad for it. Sure, he didn't want to bother her or add another issue to her already full plate, but the longer that went by without a call from Kurt, the more he worried, and there was only so long he could hide that.

"Rogue's gone and-," He hesitated. Her gaze was making him feel like a kid who'd gone and broken a vase or something and tried to hide it by sweeping the pieces under the rug. Now he had to fess up, "And I sent Kurt to follow her, just to, you know, keep an eye out."

Storm was silent for a moment as she processed what Logan had said, and then she spoke slowly and carefully, "You should have told me."

There was a thud of guilt in Logan's throat and he coughed, putting out his cigar on the sleeve of his leather jacket. Of course she'd want to know, he reproved himself with resentment. It wasn't directed at her, but at himself. Storm was so much more capable than him at leading, and yet he'd risked two lives going off his own, helter-skelter judgment, just like he always did. Clenching his jaw, he shoved his hands into his pockets and said nothing.

"Look, its fine. Kurt can take care of things for now, I trust him." She looked down, and then back up at Logan with an anxious glance, as though something else were troubling her, "It's just I found something out this morning that...worries me. I don't know if it's true yet or not, but the more information that pours in-"

"What?"

"This." She said, holding the envelope in her hand out to him. He took it, keeping his eyes locked on her eyes until he'd moved the envelope close to him. Undoing the fastening, he pulled out the glossy pictures and the folded piece of paper within. His eyes scanned the photos quickly and in confusion as his brain tried to process exactly what he was seeing. As he unfolded the paper, something clicked and then just as quickly un-clicked in his mind.

"What the hell is this?"