There's nothing left so say! Stan Lee own Rogue, and i can own Rogue too, he told me that i can feel free to make up plot lines, songfics, and even write my own Rogue comic, that if i send it and it is good they might consider it. So, no disclaimer, sorry :P
Epilogue
Everyday Rogue has followed a routine.
The voices lure her to sleep in their incessant questions and demanding phrases.
Rogue has learned to bear with these.
The psyches produce dreams that are not her own,
these also haunt her sleep, until the voices wake her up again.
She's become a reclusive identity,
someone that none look to.
Her life is slowly fading, a few people can see that.
The voices cloud her understanding and great things are to be expected of her when she is in control,
but she never is.
Her gift is her curse, no touch, never:
Touch is natural to every beings;
Touch is contact between any two things.
Just to be able to touch…
Oh, she yearned it so much.
thanks to everybody that got this far, i can't express my appreciation, but i can try.
thanks to the readers that liked this