Her auburn hair was tangled and matted around her pale face. Her green eyes held the memory of tears in their blood shot and puffy appearance. Her lips were parted slightly. The pathway of the salty drops which fled from her eyes still glistened beneath the light of the infirmary.
Her shoulders were slumped forward in a weakness that was new to the residents of the manor. Her knees were pulled up to her chest and her arms rested down at her sides.
Her sight drifted off into the distance, reaching for something that wasn't there.
"Rogue"
The name. Rogue. Was that who she was? Was that her identity? Were there actually people in there talking to her? Or was it more voices from her mind? Was it Eric taunting her again?
Was it Logan trying to dig deep into her like he had so many times before? Was he trying to save her now?
"Rogue"
Who was calling to her? Was it the professor? Was it Hank? Was it Scott?
Rogue, someone's hailing you. The now familiar voice of Carol Danvers shot a snide remark into the depth of Rogue's thoughts. She had no barriers to break through. If she so desired she could push past them and cut right into Rogue's heart.
Come on Rogue-y, you can't ignore me forever. Or at all really, come on Rogue-y. Say hello to your friends.
Rogue's eyes drifted out of their sleep and into the eyes of Hank McCoy in his blue fur form leaning over her with a stern look of caring on his face.
"Beast..." She muttered out before sliding onto her side on the floor, more tears falling from her stinging orbs.
Oh for my sake please don't start crying again. You always try to have some sort of deep revelation when you cry. It'll never happen Rogue. You'll never get rid of me and I'll never be rid of your weakness so just suck it up and stop crying!
Carol had already developed a deep hatred for Rogue's softer emotions.
Come you big baby. Sit up, go to your room, put on some clothes and let's get drunk.
Heeding her orders, Rogue-oblivious to the others in the room including her dear Scott Summers- stood from her spot and walked out of the room as if possessed.
Good girl, now let's see what you've got…
They reached Rogue's room and walked to her closet. Looking in, Rogue could feel Carol smirk beneath her own skin.
That one.
Grabbing up a pair of tight jeans and a black tube top, Rogue slipped them on over her form and donned herself with a pair of black gloves. Brushing through her hair she grabbed up a dark green trench coat and made her way to the door.
Scott was there.
Ignore him, we don't need him.
"Rogue, are you alright?"
Rogue looked up to him, but he couldn't see her in her eyes. It was so different. Frowning, he placed his hands on her shoulders.
Tilting her head she looked at his hands. They seemed so far away, she could not grasp them. "Rogue, you shouldn't be going out right now. Stay with me and we'll try to figure something out."
Tell him you don't need him Rogue, you have me, you have good ol' Carol.
"Carol says no…" Rogue whispered, voice cracking under strain. Turning away from him she pushed past him into the hallway and was not followed out of the door, out of the gate, or down the road.
She wasn't followed at all. By anyone.
I told you, you have good ol' Carol. You don't need any of them. They don't know what we've been through. And you and me? We're one person now. So you've got all my bad times and I've got all yours. Isn't that great? I hate you for it though. Don't ever forget that Rogue, I hate you.
"I know."