Categories > Movies > X-Men: The Movie > I'm Not Like Everybody Else
Jubilee tilted her head, still watching Bobby.
"Okay, you're officially creeping me out." She glanced at Rogue, hoping for an explanation, but got only a tired shrug in return.
"You didn’t see him," Rogue said quietly. Jubilee just continued to stare at her.
“See who?”
“John,” Bobby answered. “He was here.”
That shut her up. For once, Jubilee didn’t have a joke to deflect with. She looked between them, her expression softening as she understood.
“Damn,” she said under her breath. “That’s…that sucks.”
“Yeah," Rogue nodded. No one said anything for a moment.
Around them, the mall buzzed like nothing had happened. Kids ran past with giant pretzels and slushies. A pop song thudded from a nearby store. The world moved on, like it always did. But something had shifted.
“He looked different?” Jubilee asked eventually.
“Completely,” Bobby said. “He’s not the same. He’s not him anymore.”
Jubilee was quiet again, which was rare. Then;
“Guess we all changed, huh?” She kicked at a stray receipt on the floor, then looked back up. “But there’s changing…and then there’s burning the whole damn bridge behind you.”
“He lit the match himself,” Rogue said. “We were just hoping he wouldn’t.”
Bobby looked like he wanted to say more, wanted to fight for the old version of John he’d loved like a brother, but the words stayed locked behind his clenched jaw. Rogue reached for his hand, gave it a squeeze. He didn’t pull away.
“Ms. Munroe’s gonna kill us if we’re late,” Jubilee said, her voice softer. She motioned ahead with one of her shopping bags. “Come on, let’s move before we end up doing Danger Room drills ‘til our hair falls out.”
As they walked back toward the fountain, Rogue glanced over her shoulder, one last time, toward the store window where they’d seen him.
John, Pyro was gone, swallowed up by the crowd. But something about what he’d said still echoed in her mind.
“You still don’t, Rogue. You don’t have any idea what I’m capable of.”
And that scared her.
_________________________________________________________________________________________
Rogue didn’t sleep that night.
Even after lights-out, the mansion was still alive with the usual life of the distant whir of Cerebro’s systems, the muffled laughter from the younger students down the hall, the soft, rhythmic tap of rain against the windowpane.
However, her mind wouldn’t quiet. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw the mall again that half-smirk on John’s face, the way the lighter clicked open and shut like punctuation in a conversation that had gone too far. She sat up, tugging her blanket tighter around her shoulders. Bobby was down the hall, asleep, probably dreaming of anything but this.
Jubilee had tried to cheer her up with some dumb movie before bed, but even Jubes could tell Rogue wasn’t really there. She wasn’t anywhere. She was stuck in that moment, when John looked at her like she was still the same scared girl who’d run from home and found herself at Xavier’s doorstep.
The way he’d said it, like he pitied her. Like he was free and she wasn’t. It pissed her off. But beneath that anger, something colder was coiling in her chest; fear.
Because when he said she didn’t know what he was capable of, part of her had seen it, the spark in his eyes, the control in his hands, that confidence that used to just be swagger and now felt like danger.
She got out of bed and padded quietly to the window. The rain had stopped, but the clouds still hung low and heavy over the mansion grounds. She could see the training field from here, the scorched patches from the last session with Logan, the faint shimmer of the lake beyond the trees. And she remembered Alkali Lake.
The jets. The chaos. The ice. The fire. John’s fire.
A voice broke the silence behind her.
“You’re awake too?”
Rogue turned and saw Storm standing in the doorway, wrapped in a long robe, her white hair loose around her shoulders. She’d always had that calm, ageless presence. The kind that made you feel like she already knew what was wrong before you said a word.
Rogue nodded.
“Couldn’t sleep.”
Storm stepped inside, arms folded loosely.
“Jubilee told me what happened today. That you and Bobby saw him.”
Looking at the floor, Rogue's fingers gripping the blanket tighter. “Yeah. We saw him.” Storm waited before Rogue took a deep breath and kept explaining. “He’s different. Not just…older or anything. It’s like he’s-”
“Gone,” Storm finished for her. Rogue nodded again. Storm came to stand beside her at the window. “Sometimes,” she said quietly, “people change so much, we can’t recognize the person they were. But that doesn’t mean they’re lost forever.”
Rogue shook her head.
“I don’t know. The way he looked at us, Ms. Munroe…” She sighed. “He wasn’t angry, or sad. It’s like he already decided who he is, and there’s no room left for who he used to be.”
Storm studied her for a long moment.
“That frightens you.”
“Yeah," Rogue swallowed. "Because he’s right. I don’t know what he’s capable of anymore. If Magneto’s got him that deep…maybe he doesn’t either.”
Storm’s eyes softened.
“Then we be ready. That’s all we can do. Be ready, and hope he remembers what he was before the fire consumed him.”
They stood in silence for a while, watching the rain start again in soft, uneven sheets. Finally, Storm touched her shoulder.
“Get some rest, Rogue. Tomorrow will come whether you’re ready or not.”
When she left, Rogue stayed by the window a few minutes longer. The lights of the mansion reflected faintly in the glass; warm, steady, safe. Beyond that, in the woods and the storm, there was a different kind of light flickering far off.
A glow that pulsed like a heartbeat, then faded again.
Fire.
She couldn’t tell if it was lightning, a trick of her tired eyes, or something else entirely. She whispered his name anyway, just to break the stillness.
“John…” The light winked out. In the darkness, she wasn’t sure if she was hoping to see it again or praying she wouldn’t.
"Okay, you're officially creeping me out." She glanced at Rogue, hoping for an explanation, but got only a tired shrug in return.
"You didn’t see him," Rogue said quietly. Jubilee just continued to stare at her.
“See who?”
“John,” Bobby answered. “He was here.”
That shut her up. For once, Jubilee didn’t have a joke to deflect with. She looked between them, her expression softening as she understood.
“Damn,” she said under her breath. “That’s…that sucks.”
“Yeah," Rogue nodded. No one said anything for a moment.
Around them, the mall buzzed like nothing had happened. Kids ran past with giant pretzels and slushies. A pop song thudded from a nearby store. The world moved on, like it always did. But something had shifted.
“He looked different?” Jubilee asked eventually.
“Completely,” Bobby said. “He’s not the same. He’s not him anymore.”
Jubilee was quiet again, which was rare. Then;
“Guess we all changed, huh?” She kicked at a stray receipt on the floor, then looked back up. “But there’s changing…and then there’s burning the whole damn bridge behind you.”
“He lit the match himself,” Rogue said. “We were just hoping he wouldn’t.”
Bobby looked like he wanted to say more, wanted to fight for the old version of John he’d loved like a brother, but the words stayed locked behind his clenched jaw. Rogue reached for his hand, gave it a squeeze. He didn’t pull away.
“Ms. Munroe’s gonna kill us if we’re late,” Jubilee said, her voice softer. She motioned ahead with one of her shopping bags. “Come on, let’s move before we end up doing Danger Room drills ‘til our hair falls out.”
As they walked back toward the fountain, Rogue glanced over her shoulder, one last time, toward the store window where they’d seen him.
John, Pyro was gone, swallowed up by the crowd. But something about what he’d said still echoed in her mind.
“You still don’t, Rogue. You don’t have any idea what I’m capable of.”
And that scared her.
_________________________________________________________________________________________
Rogue didn’t sleep that night.
Even after lights-out, the mansion was still alive with the usual life of the distant whir of Cerebro’s systems, the muffled laughter from the younger students down the hall, the soft, rhythmic tap of rain against the windowpane.
However, her mind wouldn’t quiet. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw the mall again that half-smirk on John’s face, the way the lighter clicked open and shut like punctuation in a conversation that had gone too far. She sat up, tugging her blanket tighter around her shoulders. Bobby was down the hall, asleep, probably dreaming of anything but this.
Jubilee had tried to cheer her up with some dumb movie before bed, but even Jubes could tell Rogue wasn’t really there. She wasn’t anywhere. She was stuck in that moment, when John looked at her like she was still the same scared girl who’d run from home and found herself at Xavier’s doorstep.
The way he’d said it, like he pitied her. Like he was free and she wasn’t. It pissed her off. But beneath that anger, something colder was coiling in her chest; fear.
Because when he said she didn’t know what he was capable of, part of her had seen it, the spark in his eyes, the control in his hands, that confidence that used to just be swagger and now felt like danger.
She got out of bed and padded quietly to the window. The rain had stopped, but the clouds still hung low and heavy over the mansion grounds. She could see the training field from here, the scorched patches from the last session with Logan, the faint shimmer of the lake beyond the trees. And she remembered Alkali Lake.
The jets. The chaos. The ice. The fire. John’s fire.
A voice broke the silence behind her.
“You’re awake too?”
Rogue turned and saw Storm standing in the doorway, wrapped in a long robe, her white hair loose around her shoulders. She’d always had that calm, ageless presence. The kind that made you feel like she already knew what was wrong before you said a word.
Rogue nodded.
“Couldn’t sleep.”
Storm stepped inside, arms folded loosely.
“Jubilee told me what happened today. That you and Bobby saw him.”
Looking at the floor, Rogue's fingers gripping the blanket tighter. “Yeah. We saw him.” Storm waited before Rogue took a deep breath and kept explaining. “He’s different. Not just…older or anything. It’s like he’s-”
“Gone,” Storm finished for her. Rogue nodded again. Storm came to stand beside her at the window. “Sometimes,” she said quietly, “people change so much, we can’t recognize the person they were. But that doesn’t mean they’re lost forever.”
Rogue shook her head.
“I don’t know. The way he looked at us, Ms. Munroe…” She sighed. “He wasn’t angry, or sad. It’s like he already decided who he is, and there’s no room left for who he used to be.”
Storm studied her for a long moment.
“That frightens you.”
“Yeah," Rogue swallowed. "Because he’s right. I don’t know what he’s capable of anymore. If Magneto’s got him that deep…maybe he doesn’t either.”
Storm’s eyes softened.
“Then we be ready. That’s all we can do. Be ready, and hope he remembers what he was before the fire consumed him.”
They stood in silence for a while, watching the rain start again in soft, uneven sheets. Finally, Storm touched her shoulder.
“Get some rest, Rogue. Tomorrow will come whether you’re ready or not.”
When she left, Rogue stayed by the window a few minutes longer. The lights of the mansion reflected faintly in the glass; warm, steady, safe. Beyond that, in the woods and the storm, there was a different kind of light flickering far off.
A glow that pulsed like a heartbeat, then faded again.
Fire.
She couldn’t tell if it was lightning, a trick of her tired eyes, or something else entirely. She whispered his name anyway, just to break the stillness.
“John…” The light winked out. In the darkness, she wasn’t sure if she was hoping to see it again or praying she wouldn’t.
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