Remy made a lot of noise to announce himself - more than the dramatic Cajun even usually did. He was still working on putting one foot in front of the other properly. He'd been drinking and smoking very contentedly not five minutes ago, and he hadn't quite sobered up yet, and he had gone well beyond where his tolerance ended. Some part of him hoped that he didn't alert Jean, but most of him wasn't thinking enough about consequences. He just wanted to make sure Rogue was...
What? Caring that much, Remy? He rubbed his forehead as he stumbled into the infirmary. He knew how scared Rogue was of her powers, and it sounded like she'd really used them tonight. Carol, coma? He was frowning as he neared Rogue's bed. He didn't want Rogue to close off even more - it was hard enough already.
"Roguie?" Remy called - he meant it to be soft, but it came out at a normal tone. Not that he noticed. He slipped into his mangled version of French without even noticing. "*Are you all right,* cherie? *What happened?*"