(no subject)

[un_gloved]

Rogue's room had the air of one that was unlived in. It had been almost half a year since she'd begun sleeping at other people's places. Mostly Spike's, a few times Wolverine's, but almost never in a room alone. She spent time her in her room, and kept things there, but it didn't feel the way it had when it had been constantly a mess and fully hers.

That kind of thing seemed to be going around. At least, her room wasn't the only thing that felt half-alien and unfamiliar.

After more than two hours of not moving, Rogue's eyelids twitched. Her lashes fluttered open and she took in the room with a calm, steady gaze. Not sedated- not any more- although a certain lethargy clung to her initial movements, turning her head and and shifting against the mattress, pushing herself up on her elbows and frowning a little as her head fell forward, heavy.

"Mnh."

Comments

[howmanylives]

He'd heard about the commotion in the bathroom. Even if he hadn't been on the IPD, he made a point of keeping an eye on the few people these days he could consider his own, and with some knowledge of Rogue's particular condition, it would have been remiss of him not to check in on her, both as a friend and what passed for a professional when it came to mutant problems, both former and current.

"Morning," said Jamie as she started to stir, though in reality it was fast approaching evening. He was sitting on the edge of the opposite bed, a pillow clutched to his chest to busy his hands. It was evident that he'd been waiting for a while. His coat was folded up beside him, and the sleeves of his black shirt were rolled up to his elbows. He'd slipped off his shoes. It occurred to him only as she woke that that might have been a premature move on his part -- he had, after all, no idea who he was about to be dealing with, and a quick getaway might be called for -- but walking for a month straight was enough to change anyone's definition of discomfiture. Worse came to worse, he'd be just fine in his socks.

Nodding towards the glass he'd put on the nightstand some time ago, he added, "You want some water?"

[un-gloved.livejournal.com]

She brought her hand up to drag the knuckle of her thumb across the space between her eyebrows.

"...Madrox," she murmured, dropping the hand and squinting over at him.

"You look comfortable."

[howmanylives]

"And you sleep like the dead," he said, and despite not getting an answer either way, he held the glass out for her to take, stretching himself forward across the space between the two beds instead of simply standing. "You're not, are you?"

It was a question worth asking.

[un-gloved.livejournal.com]

"No more than you," she said, accepting the glass, and it was clear in the gesture and the lack of any accent that someone else was behind the wheel. She drank the whole glass before setting it aside, and watched him with a sort of sarcastic, ironical tilt to her eyes and mouth.

"At the moment."

[notawastedlife]

Tony hadn't actually come into the clinic to see Rogue. He'd been hoping it was unoccupied, because he intended to stick a needle in his arm.

...to get a blood sample to check the palladium levels.

Once inside, though, he changed plans, because what was up with this?

"...flu? Sunstroke? Do mutants get the flu?"

[un-gloved.livejournal.com]

She dropped a hand from where she'd been running it over her face, and blinked at Tony just once, as though for a moment- only a brief one- she wasn't sure she was hearing things right.

"Tony?"

[notawastedlife]

"The one and-" Tony began, before realized that finishing as expected would sort-of rhyme, and be awkward. So instead he awkwardly trailed off. "Yes. You're in the clinic."

There was a hint of a question in that.

[un-gloved.livejournal.com]

"Am I," she said, finally taking in her surroundings. When she looked down at herself, her eyebrows lifted with mild surprised.

"...Right," she murmured, making a point not to linger on her own chest through her t-shirt, but gaze turning to her forearm, wrist, and hand. She examined her palm for a moment before looking back to Tony.

"On the... island," she ventured.

[neveraskedtwice.livejournal.com]

If Emma felt some small shred of disappointment in being here, it was assuredly only because she had failed to do better by Rogue yet. It had been, perhaps, an unrealistic expectation, that she could cure the girl so quickly when she was at such a disadvantage here, powerless, but she had not gotten so far as she had in life without pushing herself and those around her. Still, Rogue was strong and stubborn, and so were the people in her head.

Arms folded neatly against herself, she stepped from the doorway as Rogue stirred. "I suppose you were in need of beauty sleep."

[un-gloved.livejournal.com]

Rogue lifted her head, blinking a few times at Emma's outline. She realized she had no idea what day it was, or time. She didn't try to remember what had happened before she'd- fallen asleep? Not remembering loomed at her and she shied away.

"Emma?"

[neveraskedtwice.livejournal.com]

Being recognized was no real guarantee that it was, in fact, Rogue there, but Emma was fairly sure it was. Maybe whatever it was which had happened had exhausted everyone else for a while. Walking closer, she sat at the end of the bed. "I'm still me, yes," she said, "and rather hoping you're still yourself as well."

[un-gloved.livejournal.com]

"Yeah," Rogue said, frowning and dragging her fingertips across her forehead.

"Think so, anyway. Lordy, 'm tired- how long've I been out?"

[leftwithmybones]

McCoy's been sitting at her side every since he got back after leaving for two hours to pick up books, food, and blankets. He's got his forearms on his thighs and he leans forward, almost pitching out of the chair. Still, she's waking up and he wanted to be here for this. "Careful now," he coaxes, reaching for the glass of water, sliding a straw in. "Have some water, Rogue."

[un-gloved.livejournal.com]

Rogue looked, first at the glass, then at Leonard's face.

"Doc," she said, blinking a few times and haltingly reaching out to accept the glass, "thanks- what-?"

[leftwithmybones]

McCoy feels the slightest flash of guilt as he wonders how much she remembers and whether he'll be able to tell her the truth. That subsides damn quick enough. He knows better than to linger and so he eyes her carefully, ready to tell her everything. "How are you feeling? I had to sedate you, things weren't looking so hot a bit ago."

[un-gloved.livejournal.com]

"Sedate me?" she repeated, looking confused and suddenly concerned.

"Oh Lord, what..." She ran a hand back through her hair, then over her neck to cover it.

"Oh, God, what'd Ah do."

[thedevilhisdue]

I know it's only been a couple of hours, but I can't quite believe it, not when I'm on what feels like my thousandth circuit of de floor, pacing and smoking (it's an empty basement, who's around to yell at me for it?) and waiting for somet'ing, anyt'ing.

I'm not sure what I'm expecting. I'm not even sure what I'm hoping for. She knows. Rogue knows, and I'd gotten so used to treating dat like such a non-option, I don't know what to do wit' it. I'd run if I could, but dere ain't nowhere to go here, so I just start another lap down de hall and keep waiting.

Eventually, finally (even if de first t'ing to cross my mind is Already?), I hear a noise from behind de curtain and I'm at her side fast enough for all my carefully built-up illusions of purely professional interest to go up in so much smoke.

"Rogue?"

[un-gloved.livejournal.com]

She peered up at him, frown gently deepening in confusion at his presence.

"Ah... Remy?" She pushed herself up a little further, leaning back on one hand and one elbow so she was facing him, more or less.

"Feel like Ah got in a fight with a sentinel'l lost," she mumbled, dragging the backs of her knuckles across her forehead.

[thedevilhisdue]

Would dat it were somet'ing so easy to fix. Mostly I'm just glad to know who it is I'm talking to for de time being.

"You better not have. I'm pretty hard up for fun dese days, no fair if you been hogging it all," I say, light as can be given what's been going on dese last few hours. Hell, dese last few months. "How you feelin'? Beyond lousy, I mean."

[missingthekeep.livejournal.com]

The Compound may still not be Sean's favourite place on the island, but if there's one thing to be gained from spending so much time there between the IPD office and the clinic, it's that he doesn't miss out on much. He's been hanging around Rogue's room ever since hearing about her little... whatever the hell it was some time earlier, and with so much of his concern these days being set aside for Meredith whenever bad things inevitably befall the people she cares about, it's been easy to forget how heavily it sets in when something happens to one of his.

"Easy lass, how's it goin'?" he asks when he pokes his head in to find her slowly coming out of it. Not the first time, from what he's heard.

[un-gloved.livejournal.com]

Rogue was still for a long moment before she lifted her head, just enough to get Sean in her sights. She watched him, as though her eyes were adjusting, and then she seemed to shake something off.

"Ah... hard t'say. How long've Ah been out?"

[missingthekeep.livejournal.com]

"Most o' the day now, from what I hear tell," Sean says with a small, hopeful smile, heading over to the side of her bed. "Gave a whole lot o' people quite the start, ye did. Glad ta see ye're alright."

[dreaming-cowboy.livejournal.com]

He worries about history repeating, and notices that he worries about things. That's a sign, and he knows what it's a sign of, and he tries to ignore it. Sometimes, though, it just comes and hits him in the face.

This isn't quite history repeating, though. It's new, sitting here, and he's not exactly convinced it's the good kind of new.

He wonders if he should be singing. Humming, at least. It seems traditional, for the person in what has not, until now, been his seat. He doesn't, though.

[un-gloved.livejournal.com]

Rogue sighed herself further awake, noticed there was someone beside her, and looked confusedly in their direction. After a moment her vision seemed to clear, and she blinked at him. He was in a pretty serious posture, for Spike.

"...Spike."

[dreaming-cowboy.livejournal.com]

"Good dream?" he asks, because it's an easier question to start off with.

Hell, he's not even sure what the other questions are meant to be. He's not in this sort of situation very often.