Five Months Ago…
I was holed up in my room. Had been ever since the paramedics carted David away. My father followed them to the hospital, but my mother remained outside my locked door, begging me to come out and talk to her. What was there to say? I’d probably just killed a boy with a single kiss. And even now, I could feel a piece of him swirling around my head. Memories that shouldn’t be mine. Feelings I shouldn’t have.
With my 2.75 GPA I was no genius, but even a C-student such as myself knew what all this must mean.
Mutant.
That one word repeated like a mantra in my mind. The only coherent thought I could make.
It wasn’t until my father returned from the hospital and picked the lock to my door that I was finally able to snap myself back to reality.
He stood there with my mother clinging to him and there was a knowledge in his gaze that made me look away. He knew.
“Marie?”
I held my breath, waited to see what he’d say. Or do. My father had never been a violent man, but I knew well enough about his aversion and distrust of the emerging mutant community. I even agreed with him on some points. Or I used to. I wasn’t one for self-loathing and now that I was one of them, it’d be awfully hypocritical of me to dislike others for an affliction I suffered from myself.
My father took a step closer and I winced, bracing myself for the inevitable strike.
It never came.
I opened my eyes and was shocked to see him staring at me with an unexpected tenderness. He tentatively reached a hand towards me and I flinched away.
“Don’t.”
He didn’t listen, instead laying his hand on my covered shoulder and slowly guiding me into a warm hug. A sob wrenched itself from my throat and a flood of tears began to pour down my cheeks as I held onto him. My father rubbed my back soothingly, telling me it was all right, that we’d figure everything out. We both knew it was a lie.
At some point, my mother joined the hug and I sagged against the both of them, filled with relief. We stood like that for God knows how long before she suggested coffee, to which my father and I both heartily agreed.
In the kitchen, sipping on bitter ambrosia, I finally asked the question we’d all been thinking. “So what now?”
My father’s eyes were as serious as I’d ever seen them. “This doesn’t change a thing, Marie. You’re still our daughter. This is still your home. And we’ll deal with everything else as it comes.”
I’d never wanted to believe anything so badly in my life. But as I mulled over the last few hours, I knew that in fact everything had changed. I could still hear David’s voice inside my head, threatening me with retribution if he ever awoke from the coma I’d put him in. And I knew that, while most people were still on the fence about mutants in general, very few had any sympathy for the most dangerous ones. There was no doubt that poisonous, soul-sucking skin would be considered dangerous.
As my father and mother debated about the practicalities of the situation (if we should hide my mutation until David woke up, where we could go if things turned for the worse), I quickly realized there was only one option. The determined look on my father’s face and the reassuring squeeze of my mother’s hand let me know that, if it came down to it, they’d fight for me. And I knew with a terrifying certainty that they’d lose.
David was the golden-boy of Meridian, Mississippi. The star jock and inevitable prom king. The community would be in an uproar over what I’d done to him, accident or not. At the very least, we could expect bricks through our window and graffiti at my father’s local deli shop. But other images flashed through my mind as well. Being chased down the streets by mutant-haters wielding baseball bats and worse. My courageous father trying to fend them off, buy my mother and me time to escape. I could almost see his broken body lying on the ground, could almost feel our once-friendly neighbors ripping me from my mother’s arms.
My heart wrenched and I knew what I had to do.
After a while, the talking died down and my parents walked me to my room to say goodnight. My mother carefully smoothed down my disheveled hair and gave me a loving smile. “Sleep sweet, angel.”
I nodded and responded softly with, “I love you, Momma.” I tried not to dwell upon the thought that it could be the last time I ever got to tell her that.
When it came time to say goodnight to my father, I had to resist the urge to throw myself in his arms and welcome the protection they offered. My whole life he’d been strong for me, taken care of me. But now it was my turn.
“I love you, Daddy. I’m so, so sorry.”
He gave me a quick hug and a gentle kiss on top of my head. “Don’t be, Marie. We’ll figure it all out. Things will be just fine. You’ll see.”
He was right. Things would be fine. I kept reminding myself of that as I shoved some clothes and toiletries into an old duffle bag. I’d waited until midnight, when I was sure they’d be sound asleep, before starting to head out. I walked through my childhood home one last time and finally let go of the tears I’d been holding back.
With shaky hands, I left a letter on the kitchen table. I begged my parents not to try and find me, to understand why I had to do this. I gave them every logical reason I could and told them one last time that I loved them.
I hoped they’d follow the advice I’d left them in the letter, telling them that the best course of action would be to pretend they’d kicked me out when I revealed I was a mutant. The community wouldn’t blame them for my shortcomings. They’d accept that I’d run away and be glad of it. I could imagine the outraged look on my father’s face at the very suggestion that he’d disown me, but I was hoping my mother (who’d always been the more sensible of the two) would be able to make him see reason. I needed them safe. It was the only thing that mattered now.
When I walked out of my home for the last time, I dried my eyes and resolved never to cry about it again. I was running not to protect myself, but to protect my family. And there should be no shame or sorrow in that.
The walk to the closest ATM took less than twenty minutes. I took all the money out of my account ($1,217 worth of walking dogs and mowing yards) and got a cab to drive me to the nearest Greyhound. I bought a one-way ticket to Orlando and went out of my way to flirt with the ticket seller so he’d have no way of forgetting me. Then I called another cab and followed the same process at Amtrak, except that ticket was to Los Angeles. If my parents did try and find me, they’d be looking in the wrong two directions. I wasn’t heading south or west. I was going north.
By the time the third cab dropped me off at a rather large truck stop in Jackson, Mississippi, I had just over $500 left, which would last me a month if I was lucky. It took me three hours to find a trucker who had all the qualities I was looking for (headed north and not a horn dog) and when I slid into the passenger seat, I started wondering for the first time just what the hell I was doing. Me, who’d never been out of the great state of Mississippi, who didn’t know diddlysquat about defending herself, and who had just found out she had killer skin. And here I was hitchhiking across America. Alone.
My life had become a soap-opera in under twenty-four hours and it was all so ridiculous that I couldn’t help but laugh.
The trucker I’d snagged a ride with eyed me curiously. “So what’s your name, honey?”
I opened my mouth to reply, but abruptly stopped when I realized I couldn’t very well give him my real name. Especially if my parents started to look for me. But what would I call myself? What name could possibly fit one such as me?
A memory sprang from my subconscious. It was from science class last Friday (quite possibly the last science class I’d ever take – strange to think I’d miss something so mundane). Mr. Thompson had been talking about plants, in particular one’s that showed “undesirable variations from the standards.” He said there was only one term for such organisms. With a bittersweet smile, I knew what my name would be.
“Rogue,” I answered softly. “My name is Rogue.”
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Story Notes:
Will incorporate bits and pieces of X1, but not all of it.
Author's Chapter Notes:
I live for feedback! And it motivates me to update faster. :) Please let me know your thoughts!
Chapter End Notes:
Next chapter: Enter the Wolverine