Sunlight was burning everyone laid out on the lawn, lessons were over as were exams. She'd passed her GED, so she was done now with regular school. Although she was still studying under Ms Munroe, art mainly, some lessons with Mr Summers on English Lit, seeing as she was heading for her teaching certificate. There was no art teacher of any kind here, and Ms Munroe only taught appreciation. She had a modicum of talent it seemed in that area and so she'd thought it would be a skill she could share with others without too much risk on their part.

Her room was filled with sketch books, filled with images that if someone of a psychiatric bent saw she'd be locked up in a heartbeat. They were usually under her bed along with her journal, she only kept the happy stuff on display. Only since the medbay incident, when someone had wiped her memory, taken away her thoughts, removed a piece of time from her. If her journal hadn't been there with her she'd never have known. She'd gotten a second one, just like the first one and copied everything over to it. But on that page she'd ranted about the unfairness of the competition, that she'd felt lost, alone and afraid. The real one was hidden from prying eyes and because they looked the same she could write in her 'Rogue' journal whenever she wanted to. Just like she was now.

The heat was oppressive and she'd been looked at rather oddly when she'd come out in her gauze shirt. It was light enough to let the wind blow through and enough of a barrier that she didn't burn but she could tan. Seated on a bench as her eyes drifted over the crowds of kids she let her mind flow out onto the paper.

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Where are you Logan?

What are you doing? I'd send a letter but I'm not sure you'd even be there to read it. So I'll write it here.

I did as you told me, left the windows open at night even through the cold spring and you know what it did help. Made the nights a little better, didn't have anything that smelt 'safe' though, so I just used one shirt to sleep in when the days were rough. Worked to some extent.

I need to see you Logan, to be sure your okay. It's like everyone forgot about you, about what you did for them all. When I look at them I see what you ran away from, their rules, their 'perfection', their way of living in a black and white world. Life isn't like that Logan and I know The Professor knows that too.

He's been talking to me, asking me if I'd like to join the team when I'm older. You see I've used your talents, your memories, your way of fighting. It's just *there*, I don't have to concentrate on it, muscle memory Mr Summers said it was. Thing is it's *your* memory my body is using, I gave him a nice bruise for Jean to tend to, mind you she'd be the only one to see it in the place I gave him it.

The more I stay here, the more alone I feel. They only want Marie, not Rogue. Sounds weird huh? They know me by 'Rogue' but what they see is 'Marie' the nice girl with odd hair and a tragic mutation. When underneath the real me 'Marie' is turning into 'Rogue',the dangerous one,the one with the hair trigger temper. There's something wrong here Logan and I need you to come home,to tell me if I'm wrong. Am I imagining it all? Am I really that paranoid, or is it your memories filtering into my own experience?

I know you can't read this Logan but I can put it out there into the world, just by writing it down I can speak my mind. And it is *MY* mind no matter how many people end up inside it, your part of me now Logan, you always will be and to be honest I find that the most comforting thing of all. That you're with me even when your not. I just hope you feel the same, out there in the world doing what your doing.

Remember Logan, your not alone anymore. I just wish I could tell you that to your face.

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Closing her journal Marie looked over to see Mr Summers calling in everyone for dinner, their faces all different colours, shapes and sizes. All smiling at their leader and for a moment a shudder of fear went through her. A flash of something dimming and colouring her sight, a different place and time. When smiles had suddenly turned from happiness to sorrow, where the sound of a gun had echoed loud in her ears. Shaking her head Marie followed the rest of them, her heart calling out to the lonely spirit on the road of the world.

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Nothing, there was nothing here, nothing left for him to find. He'd chased the dreams, went after those who'd made him into the creature he was and he was tired of running.

The summer sun was beating on his skin, reflecting off the last of the snow that never left even in the middle of the heat. Like him it endured, went through the heat and came out the other side. The wrinkled pages of her last letter were over his heart, he hadn't been back to his mailbox since he'd collected the last one. Hadn't wanted to in reality, didn't need to think about a future while he was still looking for the wreck of his past.

The complex was filled with trees that were at least thrity years old, whatever had been here was gone before he'd even escaped. Frustrated and lonely he let his mind take him back to a house where there was someone who'd understand him. Understand his need to be silent while saying everything he needed to in a single touch, in an embrace that would tell her everything while saying nothing.
A woman-child who had more than her fair share of his pain and he wondered if she'd still welcome him. Turning his head south he walked away from the past, a small hint of a smile on his face as he faced the future and a pair of brown eyes that were waiting for him when he came home.