AN: New story! Romy this time! Enjoy!

I do not own Marvel, the X-Men, or the X-Men movies

(Italics=Rogue's conversations with her psyches)

Easy to Run, Hard to Stay Gone

Prologue:

Dear Storm,

I want to thank you for everything you have done for me. You were more than my favorite teacher; you were also my friend. I'll always consider you one. You believed in me and you weren't afraid of me and you wanted me to be all I could be. You're the woman I've looked up to the most in my whole life and you've made me a better person…I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner.

I also want to thank you for what you said when I found out about the Cure because what you said is one of the only things that stopped me. I went to the clinic to get it but when I was about to step inside I heard what you said again and really listened this time. Usually it's Logan's voice that stops me from doing something stupid but this time it wasn't- this time it was yours. You're right; I don't need fixing no matter what. No matter how much it hurts, my mutation is who I am and it's my burden to bear.

I decided not to write a letter to Logan simply because I couldn't figure out what to say. He's my best friend and I owe him so much…I couldn't figure out how to say goodbye to someone like that. I hope you can tell him goodbye for me and also tell him I'm sorry and I love him. I always wanted to be strong like him but I never have been and I'm not sure I ever will be. And that's why I had to leave.

I didn't leave because of not being able to kiss my boyfriend or hug my friends. I didn't leave because of Jean's death, Scott's death, or even because of the Professor's death. I left because of how happy I was with you all. And I know that doesn't sound reasonable but it is. I can't be somewhere that makes me so happy that I think I can have a normal- or mutant version of normal- life with lots of friends and family. My gift doesn't want me to.

You were right; I can't change who I am and I shouldn't but that also means I can't forget what I am. My gift is the gift of a murderer, Storm. It wants to take life and gain power- that's its nature. And I won't let it. My gift may be that of a murderer but I never will be so the only option is to stay away and remember that who I am is a person meant to be alone. If I try to live a normal life I forget how dangerous I am. So I have to say goodbye.

Don't worry about me; I'll be alright and I have a plan. I was on the run for seven months, remember? I can do it again and this time there was someone who helped get me started so I'll be fine.

Tell Logan not to come after me. I know better than anyone how good a tracker he is- after all I have him in my head- but it won't work this time. Trust me on that: It Won't Work. I know he'll try anyway because that's who he is so just give him an "I told you so" for me when it doesn't pan-out, okay?

Please tell Bobby that I love him and I'll miss him every day and I'm sorry and tell everyone else that I love them and I'll miss them too. You were the best family I could have asked for and I won't forget any of you or what you've done for me.

Love always,

Rogue.

"Like hell it won't work." I look up from the letter to the snarling Wolverine. I sigh.

"Logan, she's eighteen years old- an adult- we can't make her stay here."

"Maybe not legally but that's never stopped me before."

"Don't you think maybe she'll just…come home on her own?" asks Kitty.

"It's very possible Kitty. If we don't provoke her," I add pointedly.

"'Very possible'? Jesus fucking Christ. Did you not just read that letter?! She's got some bullshit idea that she's gonna kill us all! Ya really think she'll come back on her own?!"

"Logan's right Storm," says Bobby sadly. "I know Rogue; if she has her mind set on something she thinks is important she won't change it. If she thinks she's a danger to the people she loves there's no way she'll stick around. She's stubborn like that…it's one of the things I love about her."

"Fine, but that doesn't mean you should go after her. She obviously doesn't want you to."

"So we're just going to abandon her like her parents did?!"

"Of course not, Bobby. We'll try to find her but we won't make her come back. We'll do what we can to make sure she's alright but we can't force her into anything."

"Maybe 'we' won't, but I will," growls Logan.

"Logan, I said no. You promised me that you'd stay here and help out and be a part of the team. You promised Charles that."

"And I'll keep my promise after I find Rogue."

"She isn't sixteen anymore, Logan! She isn't a scared, starving teenager hiding in a trailer asking for help. She's an adult with a completed high school diploma and a good head on her shoulders."

"I don't give a fuck, Storm! We just lost Scooter, Chuck, and Jean again! I ain't gonna lose that girl too." I rub my forehead before answering.

"Fine. School starts again in three months. You have one and then you come back whether you find her or not. Deal?"

"We'll be back in a week." With that he leaves the room. The rest of us stare after him. Eventually Hank speaks up.

"You're thinking what I am, aren't you Ororo?" I nod and look at my friend.

"He won't find her."

"Why not? He's a feral, Storm. Who'd find her easier than him?" I smile sadly at Warren.

"It's like Rogue said; she's got him in her head."

…

(Rogue's POV)

I examine the woman in the mirror and wonder how long it will take to convince myself she's me. The short, straight, platinum blond hair and blue eyes are such a stark contrast to what I'd seen in the mirror for eighteen years. That coupled with being six inches shorter, having glasses, and wearing more business attire than jeans is odd. And seeing a thirty-five-year-old when I'm eighteen doesn't help the weirdness factor. Still, the strangest thing for me is when I talk. My voice is just so damn high and quiet. Maybe changing into so many people is how Mystique went psycho. Oh well; time to get to work.

Before heading out the door with my purse and laptop I take off the key hanging from around my neck and walk over to my desk drawer to get out what looks like the insulin things diabetics have. It's very convenient for my charade that the real Lisbeth Abrams actually does have diabetes. No one questions why I carry these things around that way. Right before I give myself the first injection of the day his voice comes up again.

"Don't do this Marie. I can't fucking find you this way!"

"That's the point, Logan; you'll find me if I don't change my scent."