It was too much.
Rogue had too much chattering in her head as the violently pink wave of energy – crystal? – swam overhead in vibrating waves to leave a stark night sky. In the last moments, where it seemed all was lost and reality splintered, she and Gambit embraced one another for the first, and last time.
Except it wasn't the last time. Now Gambit was unconscious; the rest of the X-Men – these were the X-Men, right? – were stabilizing him. Rogue had answered their questions in short, distracted sentences: Yes, they had touched, no, she doesn't know what happened to all of them, and no, she wasn't alright.
She had Remy speaking to her in rapid Franglais, but it was lost in the din of a complete lifetime of memories that were completely foreign to her. Jean tried to psychically contact Rogue as she fell into a silence that mimicked Psylocke's ability to render a fugue state on a person. They were on the Blackbird by that point, returning home. Rogue hadn't given any indication about accepting or refusing Jean's help, but as soon as the telepath tried to make that initial contact, she left Rogue's mind immediately with a strained gasp.
"What happened, Jean?" Storm asked, watching her friends warily as Cyclops and Bobby flew them back towards Westchester.
"I can't…enter her mind."
"She is not letting you?" Storm turned a bit to look at Rogue, who was staring straight ahead with an unfocused gaze.
"No, Ororo." Jean looked extremely troubled. "There's something else, more than Remy. More than just two people, or even all of the psyches Rogue imprinted. The psychic noise is creating a barrier, it's impregnable, and…
Rogue couldn't hear anything else, she knew they were talking about her but she couldn't bring herself to care about it, really. They looked wrong, spoke wrong, and this plane was too clean, too new.
Why did she have Guido Carosella's memories in her head? Why did she remember going to space, watching Remy – Non, Cherie. That's not me. That's not me! – give up the part of his soul he loved her with to save their world.
Her own memories now. The desperate final fight assaulting Apocalypse's citadel. Her nearly frantic need to find her son, her husband now. The boy Nathan, who allied himself with Magneto, turning the tide. And Magneto, her husband! The Remy within her was shocked, hurt, confused, and…envious. Particularly for the child that she bore her then husband, though both evidently chafed him. He viewed this panoply alongside her in shock.
What was this reality? Years of living she never experienced filled her, sweeping her awareness of the rest of the world out of her mind.
A hand fell on her shoulder, and she jolted back to reality. Scott had his visor off, his opaque ruby sunglasses casting a blank stare at her. "Rogue, we've landed. Are you alright? Are you here with us?"
Reality fractured in her mind again; his clean-cut, trim self was superimposed with the one-eyed scion of Sinister's faction. Whatever face Rogue made in response elicited concern from the field leader. "Rogue? What's going o-"
He shouted her name a third time as she streaked out of the Blackbird and into the night sky. She was one of the fastest fliers ever on the team, and she left them all in a sonic boom as soon as she could. She had to get away.