Simple thing, right?

Wrong.

Freedom is relative.

There is nothing holding me here. Nothing at all. Nothing but loyalty to the dream and my friends.

Wrong.

There's something here. Something that won't let go.

There's a binding here I don't understand. A tie. Something that overrules my head.. my heart..

Something that takes away my choice...

Do you think I *want* to stay here? Live this stagnant life? I have been in the same place since I got here. Don't move, don't change. Retain status quo or die. Everything is for the good of the team, the good of the dream. Push past the pain, past what you want. You're needed.

That's what they say.

I can't do it anymore. I stopped being able to do it in the middle of a cold desert waiting for the end of the world. When the world didn't end, I left. Most thought it was because of what happened with Remy. Yeah. That was part of it. The rest...

I had a reprieve. A break, if you will. The tie stretched. It didn't disappear, but it gave me room to move. Room to become aware of it. I walked away.

But it was too good to be true. The tie... that *thing* snapped me back. And there I was, marching off like a good little soldier. Yay, status quo.

Then we were in space.

Well, technically, we're always in space. But this... this was *outer* space. I never knew the stars could be so big, or so bright. The tie felt weaker there. I could be... more myself. Something I hadn't been in a long time, and it felt good. What's more, they listened to me out there. Hank, Bishop, Remy, Trish... They looked at me to lead. ME. They saw something I didn't know was there. I'm pretty sure it surprised them too.

I did a good job too. That's what was even more shocking, at least to me. I was right. My instincts were sound. I was in charge, and I could handle it. I guess nearly a lifetime of battle experience comes in handy in those type of situations.

But then we came back.

And we were in Antarctica...

I still don't know what happened. It was like when my powers got turned back on, the bond, the tie... it snapped on again. Everything was so strong, so wrong. I felt it. The thing I hadn't been able to name when I returned the first time. Emotion.. bond.. pull.. push..

Remy... everyone... God.

And then... dear God.

And then here I am again. Here in my room, staring at the wall and begging to know why I'm here. This place holds nothing for me. The people... Of them all, the only ones I trust right now are Kitty, Kurt, Peter... and Remy. After all I, *WE*, have done. They do it again. THEY pull me down and force me. IT pulls me back and makes me accept it.

A long time ago, I tried to resign myself to rape. My rape of others, and their rape of me. When I touch someone, everything they are comes to me. EVERYTHING. Bad, good, wrong, right. They're in me, a part of who I am.

I hate it.

Everything.. so tight.. I can't breathe.

God... the things that *happen*. Someone is in my skin and touching everything. But what's worse is that I'm doing the same to them. In the end, we walk away. Their soul a little dimmer, mine darker.

Someone promised me help once. A long time ago. It seems so strange. It was before the tie. Back when I could still leave. Someone asked me if *I* needed someone.

I need someone. Something. I need help.

I don't know how to ask.

I want to go. Away.

I need to feel... me.

I want...

I want to choose.

I want the choice, the reality to be mine and not something that's expected of me.

I can still feel it. Tugging. It's straining tonight. The thing that keeps me here. Tied to these people. This place. It's tight. I need it gone. Then, maybe I can breathe.

A journey of a million miles begins with one step. Oddly enough, so does the journey of a soul.

I'm tired tonight. I want this to end, but I know it won't. It can't. As bad as it is... as hard as it gets... there *were* good times. Times when a smile came easily. Times when I was.. happy.

These people are my family. I won't say they accept me. They don't. They don't know me. They, outside a few, have never really tried. But they're THERE. An entity unto themselves.

Hmph. This whole situation is about as clear as a crystal window caked in mud. I know I have to leave. If I don't... But I can't go. I can't walk away.

I just don't know what to do.

Author's (post-story) notes: Hm. Well. This one blind-sided me. Remind me to keep a picture of a Mountie near me at all times. Seems to entice the muse. Truthfully though, I really don't know where this one came from. I've never written Rogue before. I've loved her for a long time and, being a fan, been completely pissed at the way her character has been handled by TPTB. Things are too.. stagnant is a word I use in the story.  She's taken for granted as a team member and blown off as being emotionally dramatic. But what keeps her *in* that situation? Why the hell does she stay? I'd like to say that if it were me, it'd be different, but I'm not too sure.

I've gone back to my early X-issues (and yes, I admit it, the ones at my store) and re-read her tenure with the Xmen. Subtly, she's been brainwashed into staying with a team that, in the first, hated and feared her, then grew to take her for granted. Hmph. It really pisses me off. Well, I hope this wasn't too confusing.  What now?