Rogue started rambling to herself, laughing a little hysterically, her southern accent gone. "Dead? Who's dead? I'm dead. You're dead. He's dead. We're all dead. She's not dead. She can't be dead. You touch me and we all die because I'm death." Looking back and forth at the two men, she practically challenged them to try and make her do anything. "I will not sit. No sitting. No more sitting. I sit long enough in here. I sit just fine. I'm not- I can't-." Shaking her head as if to get the cobwebs cleared, she laughed again. "Who's sick?"
As soon as Logan spoke up though, her eyes were back on him, narrowing at him in an all too familiar sense. "She ain't gone. Ya brought her back once. Why the hell can't ya do it 'gain? I'm wastin' time with ya here. She needs help. I couldn't help, but I am now. She needs it, dammit. She needs me." Her eyes burned something fierce and she was feeling so incredibly tired. Why was it so hot in here? Then cold? "I don't care what'cha lookin' for. I shouldn't have come here. I shouldn't have brought her. Didn't trust ya." Her accent back and all too thick, but she was fighting the dizziness. She was fighting the darkness that poured into the edges of her vision.
Her head was in an uproar as she tried desperately not to lose consciousness. Dropping to her knees she clenched her head with her hands. "Don't trust. Make it stop. Don't trust. Make it stop." She kept repeating over and over in ragged breaths before falling over and losing consciousness.