She was grateful for the space, even if she couldn't say it. The time was spent washing the dishes, using as little water as possible because he'd essentially said there wasn't much on the ship, and putting things away. Dishes were returned to their cupboard, knives to their drawer, spices to the pantry. It was methodical, easy, and gave her time to pull herself together.

She lingered a little at the spices, investigating the ones she hadn't tried earlier. Some she didn't recognize, some where identical to spices from Earth, including... cinnamon. Wonderful, pure cinnamon, sweet like candy with a familiar aroma that made her eyes sting with tears she refused to let fall.

Remy had loved cinnamon. He'd always been sneaking it into her baking, their coffee, anything he could get away with. She shut the jar tight, clutching it between her hands, and whispered to the air, "God, I miss you, sugar." Whispered it to the echo in her mind, the one that was him and wasn't, that was both a comfort and a painful reminder of just how much the war had cost her.

When she stepped out of the pantry and closed it up behind her, Rogue was fine again, as fine as she ever was. Her heartache had been pushed back to where it was normally kept, and she finished her meal amid what she could hear of the conversation from the other room.