When he could open his eyes, Logan was in the infirmary; cold, soar, and very acutely aware that he couldn't hear Rogue's thoughts. His body wouldn't get up. All he could do was turn his head.
There she was, still asleep, Xavier's hands hovering next to her head. Jean tried to check his eyes, but he pulled away. When he looked back, Rogue was watching him. Their eyes locked together.
"Professor," Scott called, hurrying to the man's side as he slouched over in his chair.
"I'm all right," Xavier muttered. "Nothing a few weeks' rest won't cure."
Logan barely registered the exchange. He'd been ripped from her hold, from her very being, and now he felt so cold he was sure he actually was dead.
"Logan, can you sit up?" Jean asked, placing a light hand on his shoulder.
He jerked at the touch and bolted upright. Only Jean's quickened reflexes kept him from hitting her.
"Logan."
That soft voice made him freeze. His anger disappeared as Rogue sat up. She didn't say anything else, just sat there, watching him. He couldn't take that look. He stood.
"Careful," Jean cautioned, though she didn't try to touch him again.
He didn't care that his head was spinning. He had to get away from them. Anywhere was better than here. He let his feet take him where they wanted to go, and they wanted to go back to his room. No, not really his room. When he was in Rogue's body, he'd thought the room smelled like him. Now her scent, that sweet mix of New Orleans spices and New York apples, was everywhere. He couldn't help it. He stayed.
He closed the door and turned off the lights, crawling into the bed like a child seeking comfort during a storm. Let Xavier do what he wanted. Logan was tired, hurt, and wanted nothing more than to be back on that beach.
As if to answer his call, the door opened. Then it closed. He looked up to see her shadow-hidden figure. She came up to the bedside.
"What are you doing?" he asked.
"This is my room," she said.
He understood. Gently he moved to the far side of the bed. She settled under the covers across from him. They lay facing each other, a foot of bedding separating them. It was enough.
"Xavier wants you to move back into your old room," she said.
"He does?"
"I told him to go to hell."
Logan smirked. He liked her style.
"This isn't going to be easy," he told her.
"I know."
"We can't go back."
"I know."
He studied her shrouded figure for a moment before nodding. "Goodnight, Rogue," he said and closed his eyes.
"Goodnight," she returned. Then, "I love you."
He smiled as he drifted off to sleep.