Rogue's legs went out from under her, and instead of trying to hold her up, restraining her even more, Steve let his right knee fold, tilting to the side before sitting on the floor, with Rogue essentially in his lap, one leg stretched out beside hers.

Listening to Rogue's sobs tore at Steve's heart as few things ever had. Not least of which because he knew he was partly to blame for them; he'd triggered this, but he'd felt he had no other option, besides letting her go, which was really no option at all.

He let go of her elbow and wrapped that arm around her too, rocking gently on the floor, as he listened to her words. He knew those words, or words like them, and he'd never known what to do with them. How do you fight someone who's not there? How do you get the ghosts to go away, or at least grant a reprieve?

"Rogue, it's me," he murmured, almost a whisper, in her ear. "It's just me. I'm not gonna make you do anything. But if you walk out that door right now, I think you'll regret it, and I know I will, so I can't let you do that. Okay? I just need you to calm down, and then I'll let you up. But I'm not letting you go, not tonight. Okay? It's okay. I got you. I got you."

Steve continued the litany of soothing words, hoping they would make a dent; hoping they wouldn't make things worse.