"I'm sorry, I don't know who you are."
Rogue just stared at him in disbelief -- she was pretty sure her mouth might be hanging open slightly too.
"John..." she began slowly. "It's Rogue. You sat in front of me in history class. Remember? We did a project together on Abraham Lincoln..."
She trailed off when she saw a woman with long auburn hair approaching them, pushing a stroller. There was a baby sucking happily on a pacifier in it. "Ben? Is everything all right?"
Ben? Who the hell is Ben?
"Uh...yeah, Jess, everything's fine," he said, setting the little girl down on her feet again. He straightened and looked at Rogue again with those same familiar eyes. "I really don't know who you are. I'm not this John guy you've mistaken me for."
"But..."
"Ben, we have to go. Andy's probably wondering where we are," the auburn-haired woman said, touching his arm.
"All right." He turned back to Rogue and said before leaving, "I'm really sorry. I hope you find him."
She watched, too stunned to move, let alone form a coherent reply. He took the little girl's hand into his and walked away. Rogue could see the woman lean closer to him, asking him something to which he just shrugged. The little girl looked back at Rogue, waving good-bye to her with her free hand.
I don't understand. He didn't recognize me. It's like he never knew me at all.
"Rogue?"
She snapped out of her daze to see Jubilee standing by her side, looking worriedly at her.
"Are you okay? You look like you've seen a ghost."
"I saw him," she whispered. "I saw him, Jubes."
"Saw who?"
"John."
"Rogue...it couldn't have been..."
"It was. It was him."
"Rogue..."
"No, stop looking at me like I'm crazy! I know what I saw. It was him! It was him! It was him!"
Jubilee put her hands on Rogue's shoulders, in an attempt to calm her. "Okay...okay... Let's get the kids and we'll head back. We'll talk to the Professor. All right?"
"Yeah...that's a good idea... He'll know what to do."
--
When they got back to the mansion, Rogue tore out of the van, leaving Jubilee to deal with the still rowdy children alone, and headed straight to the Professor's office. But all she found was an empty room.
It was just her luck. The one time when she actually wanted and needed someone to read her mind.
She just needed someone to confirm what she saw... It was him... It had to be... She wasn't crazy… She knew who she saw…right?
She was starting to seriously doubt her own sanity.
"Oh, hey, Rogue." Storm walked in, a pile of folders in her arms. "If you're looking for the Professor, he left about an hour ago."
"He's gone?"
"He went to Washington to meet with Hank about some things. He'll be back tomorrow," Storm said, setting the folders down on the massive desk. "Did you need something?"
"Um...no..."
Storm looked at her curiously, her hand holding the pile of folders in place. "Are you sure? I can put off filing these for another day. God knows I'm looking for a reason to."
Rogue hesitated, trying to decide if she should tell Storm about who she saw at the museum. Was Jubilee right? Was she crazy to think that he was alive? That he would show up at an art museum of all places? And besides that, he sure as hell didn't act like the pyromaniac she knew ten years ago. Then again, he didn't act like he was John Allerdyce at all.
"Rogue?"
She saw that Storm was still waiting for her answer. "I...I thought..."
"Yeah?" Storm gently prodded.
Rogue was just about to blurt out what and who she saw when the door slammed open and Kitty came rushing in.
"Sorry to interrupt," Kitty said, huffing and puffing and looking like she just ran a marathon. "But one of the kids thought it would be a good idea to flood his room with God-knows-what. We need some help."
"Oh, right." Rogue was turning to leave with Kitty when Storm caught her arm.
"Rogue?"
"It's probably nothing. I can wait until the Professor gets back."
"If you're sure..."
"Rogue!" Kitty yelled from the hallway. "Storm! Hurry! It's starting to leak into the library!"
They're startled by Kitty's cry for help and leave the office together. The files fall to the floor unnoticed.
--
Phoenix, Arizona -- five days later
--
He turned off the lights to the living room, carefully maneuvering around the sleeping dogs, and headed upstairs. He poked his head into a room that was painted pink, Barbie dolls and stuffed animals strewn all over the floor. He saw the little girl sprawled out on top of her bedsheets, holding a teddy bear loosely in her hand, one leg hanging over the side. He tucked her back under the blanket and kissed her forehead good night.
He then went into the smaller room next door. He leaned over the crib and saw the baby sleeping soundly. He turned on the Winnie the Pooh nightlight and made sure the baby monitor was on.
He made his way back down the stairs to the master bedroom. She was already in bed, waiting for him.
"Home sweet home," he said, slipping in next to her.
She smiled at him, pressing her lips against his. "Home sweet home." She smoothed away a lock of hair from his face. "You start your shift tomorrow?"
"Yeah, first thing in the morning." He shifted slightly so her head was resting against his shoulder. "So what did you think of New York?"
"Big. Noisy. Too many people. Too many cars."
"You're the one who wanted to go see your friends," he chuckled.
She just gave him a disgruntled look before snuggling closer to him. "Are you going to tell me who she was?"
"Who what was?" he asked, distracted while she traced patterns over his chest.
"That girl...in the museum."
"I told you: I don't know who she was. She kept calling me John for some reason. She probably was thinking I was somebody else."
"Did you think she was pretty?"
"What?"
"Did you think she was pretty?" she asked again, trying to act nonchalant, her hand now idly stroking through his hair.
"Jess...you know you're the only one for me."
"You're not answering my question," she said, smacking her hand against his shoulder in mild irritation.
He grinned and kissed her until she was breathless and forgot what they were talking about in the first place.
--
He woke up with a gasp, breathing heavily.
It was that dream again.
He was younger, his hair was darker and slicked back, he was wearing track pants and a brown long sleeve shirt. He saw an older man with claws fall, a bullet shot through his forehead. There was another boy to his right and a girl to his left, both of them were lowering themselves slowly to the ground with their hands raised -- just as the police instructed them to do. But him...he was just staring at the two of them in disbelief. Like he couldn't believe they were giving up so easily. It was then he knew what he had to do.
He had to burn.
That was when he always woke. He never knew what happened next or who the other people were in his dream. A man with claws? It had to be a dream. He couldn't possibly know anyone like that.
He didn't know anyone who was a mutant...right?
There was something about tonight's dream though that was different. The girl. He recognized the girl. The white stripes in her hair...
I've seen her before. But where?
He was running a hand over his face, telling himself to stop being ridiculous, when he realized there were strange noises coming from the baby monitor.
"Shh...be quiet, fuckface."
"You be quiet."
"Do you want to wake the entire neighborhood, dickhead? I'm gonna grab the baby, you go get the girl."
"I'm not carrying her."
"Asswipe, you cannot possibly think you can hold a baby. Especially with those big, meaty hands of yours."
"I'm not carrying her."
"For fuck sake, will you keep you voice down?"
He didn't hear the rest of the conversation, he immediately went into emergency mode. All that training at the fire academy wasn't lost on him – now was definitely not the time to panic.
"Jess? Jess?" he whispered, shaking her awake.
"What is it?" she said groggily, her voice still thick with sleep. "Is it time to feed Jack?"
"You have to get up. There's somebody in the house."
Realization dawned in her eyes and she was about to scream, but he stopped her by putting his hand over her mouth.
"No, no, you have to be quiet. They're in Jack's room right now. You need to go get help."
"No, Ben..."
"Listen to me, Jess. No, just listen to me, okay? Go next door. Call the police."
She looked at him apprehensively.
He walked her to the back door, giving her a slight push out when she hesitated in leaving for the neighbor's house. "Call the police," he whispered to her again. She nodded and made her way hurriedly through the backyard and through the wooden gate to the house next door.
He watched her go for a moment before going back inside. He went back to the bedroom to listen the baby monitor again; they were still arguing over who was going to carry who.
He only had a few moments then to gather himself and plan what he should do. He searched through the closet and grabbed the closest thing to a weapon they had in the house -- he never figured he would have to use a baseball bat like this.
Maggie's screams pierced through the air.
Then he heard Jack start to cry.
"Shut her up! Shut her up!"
"I'm kinda busy, shithead!"
He hurried out of the bedroom and waited for them at the bottom of the stairs, hiding himself in the shadows as best he could. When he saw a tall, bulky man's face come into his view, he swung the bat.
It connected with the side of the man's face with a sickening thwack, the bones in his face audibly crunching under the force. Maggie screamed and jumped out of the man's grasp when he fell to his knees, holding his face in his hands.
"Maggie! Go! Run!" he yelled, holding open the front door for her as she ran out, still screaming hysterically.
"Get back, man. I still have your baby!" The other man was trying to maintain his grip on the squirming, crying baby and help his partner up to his feet at the same time. "You don't want to do anything stupid."
The two men circled around him, warily watching the bat still tightly grasped in his hands.
Sirens were wailing outside, getting closer and closer, distracting the two men.
It was his opportunity -- he released the bat, throwing it out of everyone's reach, and charged toward them. He managed to kick the already injured man in the gut, hurling him back on his knees, groaning. He blindly grabbed for his baby, shoving the other intruder hard against the wall, and running out the still open front door with Jack in his arms.
"FUCK! Come on, man! We have to get him back!"
When he turned slightly to see if they were following him, he saw the two men standing in the open doorway. The injured man was still holding his broken face in one hand and with the other hand pulled something out from inside his jacket. The streetlight glinted off the barrel of the gun.
"Ben!"
"No, Jess! Get back!"
He then heard the shots being fired. He felt something pierce his shoulder and then his thigh. Somehow he managed to maintain his balance, holding tightly to the crying baby. He was moving on pure adrenaline, not daring to stop until he knew they were all safe and away from the danger.
"BEN!" she screamed, running toward him. More shots were fired. He felt something graze the side of his face and another piercing pain went through his side.
"Stop shooting, asshole! They're no good to us dead! We need them alive!"
--
Westchester
--
They had just finished watching yet another late night viewing of Gladiator, courtesy of Jubilee who thought it was the greatest movie ever made.
"Let's all agree never to let Jubilee pick a movie. Agreed?" Peter asked everyone in the room.
"Agreed," they all said together, with the exception of Jubilee who gave them all a look of outrage.
"Hey! It's an awesome movie! And awesome movies deserve to be watched again and again!"
"We're not saying it's not a good movie," Peter replied. "It's just that we think you should give the disc a rest. And we start to worry when you start mouthing the dialogue along with the characters during the movie."
"I can't help it -- and you can't say that 'At my signal, unleash hell' isn't an awesome line!"
"Stop saying awesome!" Jones and Siryn said at the same time.
"Hey, turn it to the news, will you?" Kitty asked.
Bobby held the remote in his hands. "What for?"
"I like to keep informed. Now will you please turn it to the news?"
"Fine." He flipped through the channels until he found a local news broadcast that was still on.
"We have some breaking news coming out of Arizona tonight. There are reports about a failed kidnapping plot involving a Phoenix firefighter and his family."
At the words 'Phoenix firefighter', Rogue became alert and began paying attention to what the newscaster was saying.
She had almost convinced herself that incident at the museum was probably just a bad case of mistaken identity. The Professor didn't need to be bothered with her weird visions – didn't they say there would be some side effects to the cure? Maybe she just thought she saw him. No, it wasn't John at all -- just someone who looked remarkably like him. No, it couldn't have been him. Nope. It wasn't him. No way.
But her sudden rapt attention to something that might or might not have anything to do with him said otherwise.
She couldn't help it. Phoenix Fire Department was written on his shirt that day -- it was something that was now permanently seared into her memory. Ever since then, whenever she read or heard anything to do with Phoenix and/or a fire department, she became a one-woman audience.
"We've just received word that there were also reports of gunfire... We'll go live now with reporter Maria Gutiérrez from our Phoenix affiliate KNXV for more on this breaking story. Maria?"
"Yes, Don, I'm standing in front of the house right now where the incident occurred about three hours ago. As you can see behind me, there is still a flurry of police activity. We've receive some information from one of the detectives on scene that two men broke into the house, planning to kidnap the two children who were sleeping inside..."
"Turn it off, Bobby. I hate watching stories like these...they only depress me," Siryn said.
"No! Wait," Rogue said, grabbing Bobby's hand when he started reaching for the remote again.
"Police have released the name of firefighter. His name is Benjamin Sullivan. Do we have his picture?"
A collected gasp went through the room as the picture flashed on screen.
I wasn't crazy. It was him.
"We've also learned that Mr Sullivan, who many residents of this quiet neighborhood have described as a 'good family man', has been shot multiple times and is in surgery right now at Phoenix Memorial Hospital..."
Just as Jubilee was about to say something to break the tension in the air, they could hear the motorized whirr of a wheelchair coming into the room.
The Professor, Logan, and Scott came into view. All three men glanced at the TV briefly, the picture of 'Benjamin Sullivan' still on the screen. Then the Professor said in his quiet calm voice, "We're going to Phoenix."