Of course it was similar for her. Whenever Steve wasn't in bed beside her, Rogue found it difficult to sleep at night and achieve any measure of actual rest. She'd toss and turn, plagued by disquieting dreams and memories that weren't her own, and eventually it just seemed easier to throw in the towel and get up. A fresh cup of coffee helped brush aside the cobwebs, and sometimes she'd catch a nap if her schedule allowed in the afternoon, when the sun was high and she could see the sky through the windows.

That morning wasn't any different. Being so attuned to his presence, she shifted around for a short while after he left before finally checking the clock, frowning at the numbers that informed her it was ungodly early even by his standards. She'd noticed that he'd been a bit more restless the night before, but to be bothered enough to throw off his usual routine... That meant something, and it sent off all her alarms.

She was out in the living room when he returned, perched beside an open window with a half-empty mug in her hands to watch the sky slowly brighten. Only the kitchen light was on, and she waited until he'd moved further into the apartment before glancing over her shoulder to carefully, almost hesitantly ask, "Everything alright, sugar?"

If she was being honest with herself, she was a little afraid of the answer.