With her hand cleaned and taken care of, Rogue offered a smile of thanks and wiggled her fingers. "I'm pretty sure he came in here a suicide mission. You know how every now and then you hear about people doin' suicide by cop? Got the feelin' it was somethin' like that. He hated who he was an' figured if he pissed enough people off, someone would do him a favor." She glanced at the door, out through the small circular window into the bar. "If Remy hadn't knocked him out an' the cops showed up, I might have done what he was lookin' for someone to do."
She wasn't proud to admit it, that much was obvious. But she'd tapped into anger that didn't belong to her. Add to that the memory of someone else's childhood, she could only figure some of the rage came from the dormant Wolverine in her. She'd taken him in twice and both times nearly did him in. If anyone had a stronger hold in her head than anyone else it was him.
Rogue was missed. Why was that so hard for her to accept? "I need to really think about it, Ro. To be honest. I just need a little time to really think it over." She looked up at her, half smiling. "I ain't askin' you to stay while I do it, either. I know you gotta house full of crazy mutants to worry about." Though she wanted very much to ask Ororo to stay. She was familiar and comfortable. And safe.
Doing something completely uncharacteristic, she moved suddenly, pushing herself away from the desk to envelop Ororo in a tight embrace. It was a moment of thinking she might not get the chance to do it again that drove her to it. Right now there was no worry about what could happen if their cheeks brushed or anything. She closed her eyes, feeling like that seventeen-year-old child for the briefest moment. "It's so good to see you."