01. Comfort - The one person who offers you comfort isn't your father figure (fatherly-ish figure?) or your so-called boyfriend or even your friends; it's him, the one who you thought would be the first to abandon you the moment you stepped out of that clinic an entirely different person.

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23. Hands - He lets you sit on his lap, head resting on his shoulder and just hold his hands.

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39. Smile - You don't recognize him at first with his new fancy clothes and dyed hair but when you see that slow lazy smile of his, you know and you can't help but return that same smile.

--

It was done. She did it.

And strangely enough, there were no feelings of regret.

The moment the needle punctured her skin, the voices in her head slowly dimmed and stopped altogether.

She won't miss David's voice making his appearances whenever she caught herself looking at maps of Alaska.

See you later!

She'll definitely not miss hearing Magneto's voice whispering in her head about power and world domination and ooh! metal objects!

Good-bye!

And she'll not miss Logan's incessant need for smokes and porn (the female variety…like she wasn't weird enough) and alcohol and going stabby-punchy on things.

Don't come back!

Bobby's voice…well, his voice she won't miss either. If there was any doubt about his goody-two-shoe-y-ness, it was erased the moment he tried to kiss her.

Fuck off, asshole!

Her mind was her own again.

If there was a brief pang of regret, it was the loss of his voice…

No…she wasn't going to go down that road again. She was through with that. This was her choice.

No regrets. Her new life motto.

She took a deep breath and headed out the back exit the soldiers inside the clinic told her to use.

The doors led out to a back alley filled with garbage and a stray dog who was too busy looking for its next meal to pay her any attention.

This was weird.

Like she had expected someone to be waiting for her. A support system of some sort, maybe? But there was nothing and no one. Just her and the garbage and the stray dog…

She gave herself a mental shake; it was time to start the normalcy she had been waiting for ever since that fateful day in her childhood home. She stiffened her resolve and walked toward the busy street, where no one would even realize what she had done or who she used to be.

"Rogue…"

The sunlight was in her eyes when she turned to see who called her name. But when the person stepped toward her, she still didn't recognize who it was – not with the blonde hair and the fancy new clothes and no sign of a lighter anywhere.

"Do I know…" she started to ask but then…oh God, how could she have not known? That damn slow lazy smile of his. And she couldn't help but return that damn smile. "Johnny…"

"You know, you're the only who ever called me that."

She tried to snap back to the reality that was standing right in front of her. Last time she heard any kind of news about him, the Brotherhood was reeling from his defection especially after the loss of Mystique to her own unscheduled appointment with the cure. This was all way too much for her brain to process. "What are you doing here?"

"Would you believe I was in the neighborhood?"

"No, not really." She paused, waiting for his real answer but somehow knowing it wouldn't be forthcoming any time soon. "If you're here to tell me what I did was pathetic or weak or whatever, I'm not interested. And no, I didn't do it for Bobby either."

She frowned when he just chuckled at her response. "I never thought you were pathetic. And I definitely didn't think you would do anything this drastic for someone like Bobby either."

"Then why are you here?"

He shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other. "Are you okay?"

She can only stare at him, incredulous and shocked. Was this really John Allerdyce? She resisted the urge to pinch herself to make sure she wasn't imagining all of this. Was it really possible that he, the proud mutant supporter, former Brotherhood member, didn't care that she just willingly gotten the cure? That maybe he cared more about…her? "Am I okay?"

"Yeah…" He paused, still looking uncomfortable and definitely awkward. "I…uh…saw you go in and you didn't have anyone with you…" He sighed heavily, shoving his hands into his pockets. "Never mind. You better get going. I'm sure they'll be wondering where you are."

He started to walk off, but before he could even take a step away from her, she grabbed his arm to stop him. "Wait… You're not mad?"

"Why would I be mad? It's what you wanted, wasn't it?"

"Yeah…it was," she answered softly, giving him the smallest of smiles. "Where are you going? Do you have someplace to stay?"

He sighed again. "I'm not going back, Rogue. I may be not with Magneto anymore but I'm not going back to the mansion either."

"I didn't… I…" Now it was her turn to be uncomfortable and awkward. And before she could even properly think her next move or what would be an appropriate response, she blurted out, "Can I come with you?"

He looked at her strangely, wondering if she was being serious or not. "My apartment's a couple blocks from here…"

She could feel the corners of her lips quirk up. "You weren't kidding when you said you were in the neighborhood, were you?"

He grinned, grabbing the duffle bag she forgotten she even had. "I guess not everyone wants to see protesters when they come home… This clinic was the best damn thing that ever happened. You can't find cheaper apartments in the city."

Her smile only widened as she followed him down the street.

No regrets.

--

Six months later…

It was a lazy Sunday afternoon. The breakfast dishes still in the sink, the Sunday edition newspaper scattered over the table. He was wearing track pants and a t-shirt while she was still wearing her nightgown.

But those things were forgotten, they weren't important. Not right now.

They were sitting in his favorite chair, an overstuffed brown barcalounger that she thought was hideous but surprisingly comfortable. She was sitting in his lap, her head resting against his shoulder, surveying the lifelines on his palm with her fingers like they were the most fascinating things in the world.

He didn't mind, even when he felt his leg start to fall asleep. She liked taking these small quiet moments and just touch his hands.

"You think you'll ever get used to it?" he murmured as she softly caressed each of his fingertips with her own.

"Maybe other people…" She paused, a thoughtful look coming over her face as she continued to idly trace his hand. "But I don't think I'll ever get over being able to touch you…"