Rogue had been alternating between sleep and being wide awake for the past four hours. Logan was lucky to arrive during a time in which she was actually sleeping; wakefulness seemed to be more the theme that night and when she did sleep is wasn't exactly peaceful. She was having dreams, nightmares about a life that had never been hers but felt like it was where she'd once belonged. For the past few days it had been with great intent that Rogue found extra hours to fill at work, or cleaning that really needed to be done before the bar could either open or close. Laundry needed washing, groceries had to be bought. She was avoiding Logan quite on purpose and she wondered if he'd noticed yet.
What happened just a few nights ago after leaving work was keeping her on edge all the time. It was a constant struggle between disgust and shame, and the need of an addict to want to feel that way again. She was afraid of this new ability of hers and wondered when or how it would effect her job, effect her relationship with Logan.
In memories clear as day, Rogue was the man she'd ultimately killed in that back alley. She was him when he first realized he had the power of suggestion. It was no simple magicians trick, this ability. All he had to do was say what he wanted done and it would happen. It wasn't just words, there had to be intent behind it. A soft-spoken command would be carried out without thought. His first time had been to his mother. He was thirteen and didn't want to go to school for fear of another bully attack. He demanded she turn the car around and bring him home. Without a word, she did. There were other times after that, and he realized the power he had. It made him feel a little less alone in life and a hell of a lot more in control.
One memory in particular woke her with a gasp for air and a cold shiver that had nothing to do with the temperature. The man had been a monster - this she knew now - who liked children a little too much. He wasn't gay, as his friends often teased. He was a predator. Rogue, awake now, rolled over onto her side and pulled the covers up over her body to clutch them tightly beneath her chin. Was it worth it? Was that temporary and too quickly fleeing moment of sheer extacy and passion worth the risk of the terror she would see in new memories? It was hard not to wonder if this was what the call of the Phoenix hadn't been like for Jean. If it was anything close to those feelings there was little wonder Jean had given in to them.
Without really thinking about what she was doing, Rogue reached for her phone on the nightstand and dialed a familiar number. She cleared her throat so as to be able to speak when the call was answered, but then realized the time and quickly hung up. "Shit," she whispered, feeling bad for a moment. She shut the phone off completely and put it back on the nightstand a little harder than she intended to. With a quiet whine, not wanting to wake Logan up in case he'd found his way back and crashed on the couch by then, she pulled the blankets up over her head and tried to push away the new and powerful memories.