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Chapter 18: A Visitor at the Mansion
🕑 Added 2025-08-07 16:18:02 +0000 UTCJay stared up at the ornate iron gates of Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters, trying to remember his first day in this world near this mansion itself. Guess R.O.B. itself has its own Machinations. Two weeks of phone calls, appointment scheduling, and polite persistence had finally gotten him here. The mansion beyond the gates looked exactly like something out of a postcard—elegant, sprawling, the kind of old-money architecture that screamed "definitely not hiding a secret mutant academy, why would you even think that?"
Of course, Jay's comic knowledge told him there were probably laser turrets disguised as decorative stonework and enough high-tech security to make SHIELD jealous. It was like Hogwarts, if Hogwarts had the budget of a small country and students who Die and come back as if it’s Tuesday.
The gates opened smoothly—no doubt after some kind of scan he couldn't detect—and Jay walked up the long driveway, taking in the carefully maintained grounds. A few students were visible in the distance, and Jay had to consciously keep his expression neutral as he spotted a girl casually floating three feet off the ground while reading a book.
"First time visiting? Try not to be afraid of my looks."
Jay turned to find a young man with blue skin and pointed ears approaching with a friendly smile. Nightcrawler—though probably not going by that name here at school.
"Yeah, I have a meeting with Professor Xavier," Jay said, extending his hand. "I'm Jay."
"Kurt Wagner," the young man replied with a slight German accent, shaking Jay's hand firmly. "I'll walk you toward the main building, ja? Though you might want to watch the grounds. Sometimes the students get... enthusiastic with practice."
As if on cue, a burst of golden sparks erupted from near the tennis courts, followed by teenage laughter and what sounded like someone shouting "Jubilee!" in exasperation.
Kurt chuckled. "See? Enthusiastic."
As they walked, Jay caught glimpses of the student body that made his heart do weird things. A girl with green skin sat under a tree, flowers blooming in her footsteps. Two boys were having an animated conversation—one with scales covering his arms, the other with small horns protruding from his forehead. None of them were hiding. None of them were afraid.
In the outside world, visible mutations were still dangerous. People stared, whispered, sometimes worse. But here, it was just normal. Jay found himself unexpectedly emotional about it. These kids had a place where being different wasn't just tolerated—it was celebrated.
"The Professor is in meetings for another few minutes," Kurt said as they approached the main building. "Would you like to wait in the garden? It's quite peaceful."
"That sounds perfect, thanks."
Kurt left him near a beautifully maintained hedge garden, and Jay was examining what looked suspiciously like roses that glowed faintly in the shade when a voice spoke behind him.
"You must be Mr. Jay."
He turned and immediately understood why Jean Grey had been described in the comics as one of the most beautiful women in the Marvel universe. Red hair that caught the light like fire, intelligent green eyes, and a presence that was somehow both warm and commanding. She moved with the kind of natural grace that made you think of royalty.
If he didn't have his Mind Shield perk, Jay might have wondered if she was unconsciously boosting her attractiveness with psychic influence. As it was, he just tried not to stare.
"That's me," he managed, extending his hand. "You must be Jean Grey."
She shook his hand, but Jay caught the slight furrow in her brow, the way her eyes studied his face a moment too long. There was something off in her expression—confusion, maybe? Like she was trying to solve a puzzle that didn't quite fit together.
"The Professor is looking forward to meeting you," she said, her voice professionally friendly. "Shall we head to his office?"
As they walked through the gardens toward the main building, Jay heard the sounds of a basketball game in progress. Unable to resist, he glanced over at the outdoor court and nearly tripped over his own feet.
There, playing what looked like a casual pickup game, were some of the most legendary X-Men in existence. Rouge was guarding Cyclops with the kind of intensity most people reserved for life-or-death situations, while Nightcrawler—who found a ball game more interesting than me, apparently—was teleporting around the court in a way that had to be breaking at least seventeen different basketball rules.
But it was Wolverine who made Jay's brain temporarily short-circuit. That healing factor—top-tier even by Marvel standards. Like bottled immortality wrapped up in a Canadian package. For just a moment, Jay felt the urge to activate his power absorption perk, to see if he could—
No. Absolutely not. That way led to way too many complications, and probably a very angry Wolverine.
"Some you know?" Jean asked, noticing his attention.
"Just... impressed by Kurt's powers," Jay said, which was true enough. "Shall we continue?"
Xavier's office was exactly what Jay had expected—floor-to-ceiling bookshelves, comfortable chairs arranged for conversation, and an overall atmosphere of quiet intellectual authority. Professor Charles Xavier sat behind his desk in his wheelchair, and when he looked up from his papers, Jay was struck by how genuinely kind his eyes were.
"Mr. Jay," Xavier said, rising slightly in his chair and extending his hand. "Thank you for your patience in arranging this meeting. Please, sit."
Jean settled into a chair to the side, still watching Jay with that puzzled expression.
"I appreciate you taking the time to see me, Professor," Jay said. "I know you must be busy."
"Never too busy for someone seeking to understand their gifts," Xavier replied smoothly. "From your phone conversations, I understand you have some questions about your abilities?"
Jay nodded. "I've been able to heal injuries—mine and others—for about a month now. But I'm starting to think there might be more to it than I initially realized."
"Would you be comfortable demonstrating?" Xavier asked gently.
Jay had prepared for this. He pulled out a small pocket knife and made a shallow cut across his palm, ignoring Jean's sharp intake of breath. Then he concentrated, letting his healing power flow with its green glow, and watched as the wound closed seamlessly within seconds.
Both Xavier and Jean leaned forward, fascinated.
"Remarkable," Xavier murmured. "The efficiency is extraordinary. Almost... too efficient."
Jean asked excitedly. "I was wondering if you might know whether you could help with... older injuries." She glanced meaningfully at Xavier's chair.
Xavier's expression grew thoughtful. "You're very kind to consider it.”
Jay had practiced this explanation. "The stamina cost scales with the severity and age of the injury. Something like spinal damage that's been established for years..." He shook his head. "I'd need stamina reserves far beyond what my body could handle without causing permanent damage to myself. I'm sorry."
He watched disappointment flicker across both their faces, followed immediately by understanding and acceptance.
"Of course," Xavier said gently. "The thought is appreciated nonetheless."
"If you're curious about the extent of your abilities," Jean said, "we could arrange some tests. Our colleague Dr. McCoy has excellent facilities for power analysis and can confirm if you have the X-gene."
"That would be incredibly helpful," Jay replied.
Minutes later, Jay found himself in what could only be described as the most advanced laboratory he'd ever seen, even putting Reed’s lab to shame. Dr. Henry McCoy—Beast, a fascinating contradiction. Brilliant, articulate, and enthusiastic, with the kind of barely controlled energy that suggested his mind was always racing ahead to the next fascinating problem.
"A healing mutation with unusual efficiency parameters," Beast mused as he prepared various instruments. "Fascinating! The cellular regeneration rates you demonstrated suggest something quite remarkable indeed. May I collect a blood sample for analysis?"
"Of course," Jay said, rolling up his sleeve. Also, to test his DNA-Lock Perk.
Beast drew the blood with practiced efficiency, immediately transferring it to various testing apparatus. Jay tried to look casually interested while internally hoping his perk would interfere with any readings that might be too revealing.
"The initial scans are quite intriguing," Beast said, studying readouts on multiple screens. "Definitely mutant physiology, but there are some unusual—"
The lab door opened, and Jay looked up to see a young woman enter. His breath caught slightly. Anna Marie D'Ancanto—Rogue—was even more striking in person than any comic had ever captured. The distinctive white streak in her brown hair, those arresting green eyes, and a natural beauty that was somehow both approachable and ethereal. But as he looked at her, an uncomfortable memory surfaced from the comics—her relationship history. The way she'd eventually cheated and then left Gambit for Magneto, breaking the heart of one of Jay's favorite characters.
She was also holding her left elbow, which showed a nasty scrape and what looked like the beginnings of a spectacular bruise.
"Hey, Hank," she said in that distinctive Southern accent that immediately transported Jay to memories of Saturday morning cartoons. "Y'all got any of those fancy bandages? Had a disagreement with the basketball court."
"Of course, my dear," Beast replied, already moving toward a medical cabinet. "Basketball can be a treacherous opponent indeed."
Jay saw his opportunity. This was his chance to test his Power Protection perk, to see if Rogue's absorption abilities would work on him.
"I might be able to help with that," Jay said casually. "I have a healing ability—might save you some bandage time."
Everyone in the room froze.
"Wait, don't—" Beast started.
"Sugar, that ain't a good idea," Rogue said quickly, backing up a step. "My skin, it ain't safe to—"
But Jay was already reaching toward her injured elbow, deliberately making contact with her bare skin.
Silence.
Rogue stared at where Jay's hand touched her arm, her eyes wide with confusion. "That's... that ain't right."
"What's wrong?" Jay asked, feigning ignorance while concentrating his healing power on her injuries.
"I ain't feelin' nothin'," she said quietly, wonder creeping into her voice. "Normally when someone touches me, I feel everythin'. Their pain, their fear, their whole life just pourin' into me. But you..." She looked up at his face. "You feel like... nuthin'. Like touchin' air."
Jean had stood up, moving closer with obvious fascination and concern. Xavier's wheelchair hummed as he approached, his expression intent.
"Rogue's abilities are quite dangerous," Beast explained to Jay, his voice careful. "She absorbs life energy, memories, and in the case of mutants, their powers through skin contact. For her to feel nothing..."
"Oh," Jay said, trying to look appropriately surprised while finishing healing Rogue's elbow. "Should I not have done that? You all seem pretty alarmed."
"No, sugar, you're fine," Rogue said, flexing her now-healed arm. "It's just... I ain't been able to touch another person safely since I was fourteen. This is..."
The lab door burst open again, and suddenly Jay was surrounded by X-Men. Wolverine stalked in first, followed closely by Cyclops, with Storm and Jubilee bringing up the rear. Apparently, the commotion was too loud.
"Heard there was some kind of situation," Wolverine growled, his eyes immediately focusing on where Jay was still touching Rogue's arm.
"No situation, Logan," Xavier said calmly. "Though we may have encountered something quite extraordinary."
Jay reluctantly released Rogue's arm and faced the assembled heroes, trying to project casual confusion rather than the excitement he was feeling. His Power Protection perk had worked exactly as hoped—Rogue's absorption abilities had been completely nullified.
"I should probably explain," Jay said. "What I showed you earlier—the healing—that's not the whole story."
Xavier's eyes sharpened with interest. "Oh?"
"There's another aspect to my abilities. Something... reactive. When I touch someone, I can suppress their powers." Jay paused, letting that sink in. "I didn't realize how significant that might be until now."
The room erupted in quiet murmurs. Cyclops and Storm exchanged glances, while Jubilee whispered something to Wolverine that made him grunt thoughtfully.
"That's quite a significant secondary mutation," Jean said carefully.
"I'd like to verify this claim," Xavier said, rolling forward slightly. "Would you mind if I attempted a light telepathic scan? Nothing invasive, just—"
"Professor," Jay interrupted, then paused as he felt Xavier's mental probe touch the edges of his consciousness and slide off like water off glass. Xavier's eyes widened slightly in surprise.
Jay smiled internally and allowed himself to look confused and then increasingly agitated. "Did you just... try to read my mind?"
"I apologize," Xavier began. "I simply wanted to—"
"That's private!" Jay snapped, putting real heat into his voice. "I came here looking for answers about my abilities, trying to find a place among my OWN people, and your first instinct is to go poking around in my head?"
The temperature in the room seemed to drop. Everyone was staring, some shocked, others defensive.
"Now hold on there, bub," Wolverine said, stepping forward with his hands curling into fists. "The Professor was just—"
"The Professor was just what?" Jay demanded, letting his voice rise. "Violating my mental privacy? Reading my thoughts without permission? You call yourselves educators, protectors of mutant rights, and this is how you treat someone seeking help?"
He turned back to Xavier, genuinely angry now—though not entirely for the reasons they thought. "How can anyone trust you if you go straight to MIND-RAPING everyone you meet? exactly the kind of thing that makes people afraid of mutants in the first place!"
The silence that followed was deafening. Xavier looked genuinely stricken, while several of the X-Men shifted uncomfortably.
"I... you're absolutely right," Xavier said quietly. "I apologize. That was inappropriate and a violation of your privacy."
But Jay was already moving toward the door, making a show of being too upset to listen to apologies. "I need some air," he said shortly. "This was a mistake."
As he stalked out of the lab, he made sure to 'accidentally' drop a couple of his business cards near the door—by Rogue's feet.
Behind him, he heard Rogue's voice: "Well, that went well."
Jay allowed himself a small smile as he made his way through the mansion toward the exit. Phase one complete.
By the time he reached his car, Jay could already imagine the conversations happening back in that lab. Jean would be explaining why she couldn't get any stray thoughts from him—how he'd seemed completely silent to her telepathic senses. Beast would be staring at test results that showed definite mutant markers but blood samples that degraded too quickly for thorough analysis. Xavier would be questioning his own methods while grappling with the implications of meeting someone completely immune to his telepathy.
And Rogue... Rogue would be holding his business card, thinking about what it meant to touch another person without causing them harm.
Jay started his car and pulled away from Xavier's School, feeling surprisingly satisfied with the afternoon's work. He'd established himself as a mutant (which he finally confirmed) with useful abilities, demonstrated that he was immune to both telepathic intrusion and power absorption, and left them with just enough questions to ensure they'd want to contact him again.
More importantly, he'd planted the seed of a possible solution to Rogue's isolation. When they eventually reached out—and they would—he'd have the upper hand in any negotiations.
The drive back to the city gave Jay time to think about what he'd learned. His abilities worked exactly as he'd hoped against both telepathy, DNA analysis, and power absorption. The X-Men were every bit as noble and well-intentioned as their comic book counterparts, but also just as prone to the occasional lapse in judgment.
Jay smiled as he merged onto the highway. Sometimes the best way to help people was to make them think it was their idea to ask for help in the first place.
