After enduring being under the knife, being hooked up with one tube feeding him and another one stuffed up his favorite body part, Hatchett's glares and cold ass hands, and BORING BORING recovery days. He'd made up his mind.
There were better places out there for him, this place was just too bi-polar. One second it was boring as all hell, and the next alarms are going off and his lung is getting punctured by one of his own splintered ribs.
Yeah, screw this place. As soon as Hatchett allowed him to leave the Infirmary he was in his room packing. It was a slow, painful process, because his ribs would still be sore for quite some time, but it was done eventually. He set the bags aside, glanced around the room to make sure he wasn't forgetting anything, then headed out into the hallways towards Xavier's office.
About an hour later, he was climbing into a taxi cab with a small ammount of cash in his pocket. Xavier hadn't made a big deal about it at all, like he'd expected,... But either way, he was out of here. His bags were heavy and his ribs screamed at him all the way out to the taxi, but now that he was inside, he just relaxed and took a good long look at the mansion. He wrote a few little goodbye notes to the few people he considered to be a friend, or at least friendly and left them with the Professor to have the "help" pass out.
They all said basically the same thing.
I thought I'd let you know I'm outta this place. I've got other stuff to do than get attacked in "my backyard".
Have fun with the assholes, kick their asses for me, I'm not sticking around to bother.
Hugs and kisses
And then he was gone, heading westward.