un_gloved | (no subject)

Entry tags:

(no subject)

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."

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

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."

"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."

"When I came in," he says carefully, not wanting to presume that he knows the full story about this, seeing as he only came into the middle, "you were acting pretty crazy. Not sure of yourself, slightly confused, your friend Gambit seemed to be pretty concerned."

"Gambit," she said, looking blank, then her eyebrows worried together and she looked back at McCoy.

"Remy was there, but...? Ah can't remember. Why were we in the bathroom?" She tugged at a fistful of white hair.

"I remember... I remember bein' scared. For him. But not why."

"You were screaming a lot about how you'd hurt us," he admits, easing the water closer as he uses his other hand to try and pry that hand off her hair. No use having her pull it out. "You thought that you had your powers back, Rogue," he says quietly. "Do you know why you'd think that? What might have triggered it?"

Rogue shook her head, unconsciously drawing her knees up and looping her arms around them, letting McCoy guide her hand away from her hair.

"No. Ah was readin' a book in the rec room an' fell asleep. 'n then..." She squeezed her eyes shut.

"Lordy, I can't. 'n then.... I can't remember."

McCoy keeps his arms forward, trying not to alarm her with any kind of talk about how bad she was. Hell, he's not sure she even wants to talk about this, yet. "Rogue, back home, I talked to a lot of people about feeling trapped in the prison of space. I want to know if you feel trapped."

Rogue held his gaze, taking the question in, turning the idea of trapped over in her mind. When she spoke, it was with tremendous effort and her voice was thing.

"...not.... right now?" She ducked her head to hide the way her expression broke.

"Not even in a general sense?" he asks, because if she had been, maybe he'd have some kind of (and he hates to use this word) logical explanation for why she had gone crazy like she had. "It doesn't have to make sense, I just need to know for future reference."

"...." Rogue twisted her fingers around each other and curled her toes against the bed sheets.

"when I got here, I felt trapped. I used t'be able t'fly, so 'm not used t'bein' grounded. Or bein' hurt, I was pretty invulnerable, to physical injury. It... so I used t'feel trapped, sure. But I also..."

She frowned at her knees.

"The mutation in mah genes Ah was born with prevented me from havin' skin t'skin contact with anyone. If Ah did, Ah'd... absorb their powers, or their energy, Ah guess, 'n their memories 'n personalities 'n sometimes physical traits along with 'em. Depended on who they were 'n how long Ah held on. So here, Ah could... allova sudden Ah could touch people, 'n that... helped," she finished, lamely, she thought.

"Ah always wanted t'be normal, so the trapped feelin' mostly went away. But... lately, Ah guess, knowin' Ah was... havin' trouble, managin' the side-effects of mah powers, that's... I guess Ah've been feelin' that way some, sure."

"My thoughts here, and just remember that I've never had to deal with genetic mutations in either psychology or the medical side," he prefaces, not wanting to take his words and keep them as the only advice she takes. "If you've been feeling trapped on some level, maybe something snapped out of your body's need to escape the metaphorical prison that your life's created for yourself."

"Somethin' got jogged loose," she said, all in agreement. "I knew it months ago. But it ain't... Whatever it is, a mem'ry or a person, it won't let me see it. Or Ah don't want to. Either way it.... things've been slippin' for so long now." She rubbed a hand tiredly across her eyes.

"Wish Ah was imaginin' it, that it was somethin' Ah was doin' mah own self. Plenty o'folks gone through stuff like that, plenty o'doctors know how t'deal with it."

"Well, until you feel comfortable, just know that I've got a steady supply of sedatives and a trigger-happy finger," McCoy says wryly, giving her a fond smile as he settles back into his chair, not intending to go just anywhere. "I need something to do besides be a complete waste of space around here."

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only