(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

[un-gloved.livejournal.com]

"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."

[leftwithmybones]

"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."