~~~~~~~AN/ I don't know if anyone will care, but as far as I know right now, this is a one shot. (Which some will probably be grateful for.) It may seem weird but I was posting 3 story updates today, and wanted to make it an even four so I wrote this. (Guess that is the Monk in me or Poirot depending on what you are watching) It is nice writing something when I don't have any expectations of continuing, so I can pour as much as I want in it, as things happen a little more, well, spontaneously. Oh, and I know I have sorta written something else that started out this way, but I guess I just had to again. I suppose I like writing with certain themes in the background, not to mention I kinda miss doing stories with Rogue as the central character. OK, enough from me.~~~~~~~

Miserable.

She was miserable. All because of one choice, a decision that would forever mark her as something other than a mutant, something other than human.

It didn't matter when her powers came back, didn't matter that they were more powerful, more controllable or for the fact that overnight she had become someone, who an entire army would find a force to be reckoned with.

Rogue stayed with the X-men as long as she could. But when Xavier and Scott suddenly were found alive, and brought back to the mansion- and she felt relief, but nothing much else, she suddenly realized she needed to get away from them all.

Most especially Bobby.

His touch sickened her, his mouth on hers, that cold thing that used to be a device of pleasure, stop doing anything for her long before her feelings started to turn as icy toward him as his mutation. She felt a grudge against the Iceman, a twisted spite that turned what perhaps had been love, into bitter resentment.

Logan had tried to talk her out of it leaving, but she was no longer malleable, no longer the love sick teen who would have jumped in front of a bus at his request. She still felt something for him though, something that would twist and turn her stomach, a pain almost, a tangible testament to the fact that he still drew her to him.

But Rogue left none the less. Just walking out the door, getting into her car and driving out of the place. That was all it took. Suddenly the world was open, new experiences awaited her, and she felt as if she was waking, emotions surging inside her, feelings coming alive from the dark place they had been lost in.

Freedom.

She was free. Away from the X-men, away from what was, what couldn't be, and what was expected.

And then she bumped into him. At a gas station none the less, she had stopped for some lunch, and when Rogue had come out, when she approached her car, he was waiting for her, sitting on the hood, obviously knowing it was her vehicle, even when he had never even seen it, for he had left the mansion at least a year before she got the thing.

If she still felt like an X-woman she would have been angry, would have forced Pyro off the thing and continued on her way. But there was something in his look, the way his eyes held onto hers, simmering with such open want, that she found herself smiling instead, and then she acted before her thoughts caught up with her. Surprising him with her next actions, but she surprised herself as well.

He asked no questions of her, and she asked nothing of him. Neither speaking. Her newly acquired food thrown away in the trash. He jumped into the passenger seat, a hand experimentally going to her arm, drifting downwards. She didn't protest, didn't warn him off. She was sick of doing what was expected, tired of denying and talking herself out of things.

Rogue saw he had changed, his hair was darker, body harder, a firm grimace on his face that softened just a little bit when she caught his eyes.

They stopped a couple miles away at an abandoned mall, one that had a wide empty parking lot. John reached toward her, and then pulled her to him, his mouth on hers even before either had even spoken one word to one another. She felt his heat, felt his fingers gripping firm around her waist, his hot breath making her skin surge. Her mutation kicked in for an instant, she waited for him to pull back, but there was none of that, just the soft murmuring of her name.

"Rogue."

He was her enemy, had been since he left the mansion, yet instead of holding it against him, she was pressing against him. Her body trying as hard as it could to get as close as possible. But before she knew what was happening she felt the door open, felt a hand grip tightly around her back as it pulled her off the warmth that was underneath her.

A familiar sound followed after, Rogue's head lifting upwards from where she had landed, familiar claws extended above her. Logan wasted no time as he pounced in the car, slashing through Pyro's seatbelt, a thing they themselves hadn't even gotten around to releasing. John managed to roll away, landing roughly on the hard cement, only to jump up to his feet.

Wolverine cursed loudly and then ordered her to stay back. Before he could even turn his head back around, a flame pounded into him, throwing him back. Then as if an afterthought, another ball of fire burst forward, shooting past her, landing on a motorcycle that was parked not far from them- causing the thing to scramble backwards, as it rolled.

John came toward her, finally speaking to her, but Rogue hardly heard, her thoughts were catching up with her, logic trying hard to surface. But then he grinned wide, a large lopsided thing that made her stomach flop from her newly acquired attraction. Her hands moved forward and then slightly up, clasping firmly to his extended ones.

She barely stood when a yell came from behind her, when a fist thrust forward and hit John on the back of the head. He fell down, landing on his knees, head twisting to look at Rogue, eyes filled with shock. She reached for him, fingers about to touch him, but she was pulled away, a hand reaching up her back until two fingers pinched her on the back of the neck. She felt dizzy at first, and then the world started to turn gray; she saw blood on the ground, saw John getting up slowly to his feet, a hand rising with intent toward them, fire building.

And then Rogue saw nothing at all.