Rogue sat at the edge of her bed, clutching her head in her hands. Tears rolled down her face and she bit her tongue. It was the dead of night, and the rest of the mansion was asleep. But of course Rogue couldn't sleep.
Not with the voices in her head. All yelling, all shouting, all screaming and all accusing her. Using the little they know about her against her. But that was not the worst of it. All of these people were her friends, people she respected and loved.
She couldn't take it. She could have gone to Xavier and gotten help, but he was going to be in Scotland and wouldn't be able to help her for a good three weeks. She tried to contact him, using the tiny bit of telepathy that she had.
But he never heard her. Or he never had the time to respond. Either way nothing was done to help her.
Hear it calling from afar. Gentle voice brings words unspoken.
The yelling got louder. She heard Mystique saying how she was nothing but a useless tool, and that she ought to know that by now. In fact Rogue did know that now.
She had put her trust in those people. She had foolishly believed that they would not ever hurt her. She let them get to know the real her.
Little Angel learn to fly.
Everyone had used her.
Mystique, Mesmero, Apocolypse, Gambit. All of them had used her, probably not even caring how broken they had left her when they were done.
Whether if it was because when they left her she knew she had almost killed someone or she had thought that she had a friend when she really did not. Each of them had used her for her powers, her curse.
And they dropped her like a bad habit when they were done with her.
She fell down her wings were broken.
She was emotionally on her knees after that. A girl could only be used and played for so long before she breaks. Rogue was breaking. The fact that she was not getting sleep because of the voices was not helping much at all.
It was giving her head ache. The pain was creating tears that blurred her vision. She needed pain killers. She needed the psyches to be locked up again.
Every day she dies inside.
Shut up. Shut up. Shut up.
Rogue screamed at the voices again and again to no avail. They would never listen to her, without Xavier she had no control over them.
Can't close her eyes and shut it out.
Jean's psyche reminded her about how she was nothing compared to her. How she Jean was the favorite of everyone, not Rogue. Scott backed her up, along with Kitty. They all nit picked her flaws.
Her colour taste. Her clothing. Her makeup. Her grades. Her mistakes. Her everything.
They told her how everything she liked, wanted or stood up for was wrong. They reminded her about how useless she was to the team when they were fighting Sentinels because her power was touched based and you cannot steal a robots soul.
Rogue made her way through the hall way, silently crying and clutching the wall for support. Begging the psyches to act like their normal selves. The people that she knew.
Little angel hear her cry. She's calling you.
They reminded her that when she absorbed someone a part of them stayed in her head. So they were acting like the people she knew. That was what they really thought of her.
Scoundrel.
Theif.
Liar.
Stupid.
Useless.
Her heart is broken. Is it you? Is it you?
Rogue clambered into the kitchen. She was not able to walk anymore. She was too drained. he fell to the cold tile floor and lay there, wrapped in her own misery.
But then again one day, when she gets control over her powers she could prove them all wrong. When she got control she could do that.
When….if.
If she got control.
Never let the fire burn out. The spark of hope is all she's got
Wolverine and Kurt reminded her about how she had been trying for the past four years to gain 'control' if it was going to happen it would have happened already. They told her she had to face it.
There was no way out. Her powers would keep her from touch. Married life. Love. Having kids. A family…a normal life.
Her powers were her cage. A cage without a key and a million locks.
Little Angel tried to fly. She fell down her heart was broken.
Rogue needed the pain killers, badly. She hauled herself off of the floor and went to the fridge, pushing back the rest of her tears.
The pain would be over soon enough.
Is it you?
Rogue took out the bottle, and uncapped it, dropping the cap on the floor carelessly.
Just a little longer.
Is it you?
Rogue took the full bottle, a glass of water and downed the whole thing.
Just wait for it.
Is it you?
Rogue did not wake up the next morning, or ever again.
Is it you?
The pain was gone.
Authors Note
The song is by Ana Johnsson, its Little Angel. It's a good song check it out. And yeah review if you feel like it. If you don't well then…review anyways.