Jean and Warren: Revelations

[x-jeangrey.livejournal.com]

Realizing she has no choice, Jean comes to Warren to ask for his help with finding out more information about Worthington Industries.



With the amount of rain and snow they were having in the last few days, New York and Seattle could probably have a competition. Climbing out of the taxi, Jean stared up at Warren's building from under her umbrella. He was there. She could sense it.

After leaving him a few days ago she had wanted to keep it at that: to never see him again. It would be easier for the both of them. But the information she had uncovered was far worse than she'd imagined. In order to figure out a way to stop the program from progressing any further she needed him.

She only hoped he would want to listen.

"Hello Wayland," she said, offering a smile to the doorman.

"Miss," the doorman said nodding his head. He remembered her from a few nights ago, when she'd come in with Mr.Worthington. She'd stood out as she hadn't seemed like one of his typical woman.

One of whom was currently upstairs with him right now. Wayland would be having a lovely chat with housekeeping later on.

"Is Mr. Worthington expecting you? I can call up for you."

Jean glanced away, shaking her head. "No, he's not. I...I didn't leave things on the best terms. I was hoping to be able to speak to him...But I know if you called him, he probably wouldn't buzz me in. I was hoping you might give me the chance to let him open the door himself."

It was another matter of importance. Destiny had a habit of not leaving well enough alone.

Wayland hesitated. "I don't know Miss...I could lose my job.."

"Please," Jean said. She didn't want that to happen, but she was hoping once she was able to speak to Warren he'd see reason. Worse came to worse she'd have to find another way to talk to him.

"If anything happens I'll take full responsibility."

This woman was genuine. He had no idea why he did this, but maybe she was in trouble. "Alright....but just this once!"

Jean's surprised smile blossomed across her face. She nodded quickly. "Thank you," she said appreciatively. "Really."

Once he'd opened the door she casually walked in, remembering the way up to his apartment. She'd only gone once but it was hard to forget that he was on the top floor. Only when the elevator neared the top did she become aware of the third presence in the apartment. She wasn't scanning for anyone else but him. As the doors opened, her stomach dropped in anticipation. This wasn't how normal people tried to resolve things, but the situation wasn't normal.

Luz heard the elevator doors open, surprised. Normally Wayland would have buzzed a person up, giving her ample warning. Drying her hands on a towel and walked towards the door,eyes opening widely when she saw who it was.

"Miss Jean....hello." She gave her a pointed look. "You are not expected. Can I help you?"

Lowering her eyes, Jean nodded. "I know. I...need to speak to Warren privately. It's very important," she said, her tone betraying an importance not regulated to something just between the two of them.

"I'm sorry to barge in like this. I know it must've been a surprise."

While all this was going on, Warren was in the study with one Bethany Stewart, Chief Financial Officer for Thompson & Stewart, another investment company who had a specialization in tourism. Normally Warren had little interest in that field but when a solid sounding proposal was made -- with the possibility of more personal endeavors -- he couldn't turn that down.

Now was the drinks and proposals part of the evening, and it was starting to look like a feasible plan could be made when he heard voices in the outer room. No one else should be here, other than Luz, and she preferred to work in silence. Excusing himself, he walked into the foyer and stopped short when he saw who it was. Jean.

Instantly his stomach went into knots, and he cursed his body's reaction. He'd tried to call her after their kiss, instead of letting her call him. He tried for a couple ofdays before he admitted to himself that she was clearly no longer interested. The drunk texting, he sorely regretted. Why was she here? Motioning to Luz that he could deal with this, he waited until there was some privacy

"Jean," he said cooly. "What are you doing here?"

Warren looked startled. That was to be expected. Sliding her hands into the pockets of her coat, Jean let out a breath. God, this was hard.

"Hi," she said. She glanced away a moment, trying to gather her thoughts. "I...wanted to apologize. I know you're busy right now, but...I need to talk to you about something. Something that's a matter of life and death. It can't wait."

He couldn't help himself. A sharp laugh escaped his lips. "While it was a good kiss, my dear, I wouldn't call it life or death."

Jean shook her head, unblinking. She could tell he had been wounded by her leaving. And to be the cause of that was something she'd never wanted. Still, she had to do what must be done.

"It has nothing to do with that," she said. Her eyes flickered behind him a moment. "And it's something I'd rather discuss privately."

Though they were out of earshot, she preferred knowing they had complete discretion. The potential for less people involved, the better. She'd rather not have Luz involved if she could help it. Or the woman in the next room.

He sighed and crossed his arms. "If this is where you blackmail me, then please, just get it over with. You're hardly the first to try this, and while normally I'd demand a DNA test, I hardly think that'll be necessary."

Rubbing her forehead, Jean tried not to groan. He was stubborn. But so was she.

"I am not going to blackmail you, Warren," she said. She slowly approached.

"Okay. You want to do this here. Fine," she said, her voice dropping to a certain whisper. "People are going to die. And your company is involved."

She studied him. "Do I have your attention?"

His eyes narrowed. "Those are strong words and heady accusations." It wasn't something he could ignore though. Still. He glared at her for a little while longer before giving a curt nod. "You can wait in the kitchen. I have a guest to see out. Help yourself to a drink."

Without waiting, he turned and started determining how he was going to extricate himself from this. Bethany had made it very clear that she expected his undivided attention. He toyed with the idea of continuing as planned but that was far too cruel. Instead, he came up with an excuse regarding a cousin, and rescheduled for the next day, which she didn't look too pleased with.

Once she left, he poured himself a drink and drank it in one gulp, for fortification purposes of course. Then, he went and fetched her from the kitchen and brought her to the study.

"I'm all yours. What is so important that you couldn't use the phone? Oh! Wait, is this where you tell me you lost it,or some other lame excuse?"

Jean had chose to go dry. Alcohol hadn't helped her last time. It wouldn't help this time. She remained standing, staring out at the city from the windows. The style was different than the rest of the house. It had moved away from the clean, yet industrial feel and evoked the idea of a traditional library, complete with wood paneling. It reminded her of the Professor's office.

She folded her arms, and caught herself starting to pace before she stopped herself. His words stung, but she ignored them.

"It's better to say in person," she said, brushing a few strands of hair out of her eyes. She glanced down.

"I know about Biotech. I know what they're working on....and who they're working with. And it's not what you think," she said, letting out a breath.

"It's worse."

He chose his words carefully. "It seems to me that confusion is an emotion I shall have to get used to around you. Worse than what exactly? It's a security company that I have had zero thoughts about since acquiring."

A flash went off in his memory. "Wait a second." Anger went off in his eyes. "You are a reporter! All those questions, I should've seen it. How stupid of me. Get out, I'm not wasting any more time on you."

Putting her hands on her hips, Jean didn't move. Her gaze locked with his. "I am not a reporter, Warren," she said firmly, with all the boundless patience of a mother talking to a child.

"I am a doctor. I am everything I told you I was. And when I met you the first time...it was innocent. But then someone saw a picture. Someone I knew. And they thought I could help them. They'd heard rumors, something about Worthington Industries working with the government through Biotech, providing them money and resources to create a special project...one that helps hunt people. People with special abilities. Mutants," she said.

"They claimed it was for SHIELD...and some of it is. But some of it is meant to disable mutants, to disrupt their abilities, or stun them, or...in some cases...kill them. Illegal contracts, mixed in with the legitimate ones. But there was no way to know if it was true or not without getting proof. And as you know, your company is in the biosecurity business. The only way to get that is to get inside."

"And I got in," she said. She broke her stare, studying the bookshelves. "And I found out the rumors were true. They're working on biosuits, something they call Sentinels, that incorporate the technology. They've moved from just concepts...they're starting on prototypes."

She rubbed her forehead, then steepled her hands.

"I had to tell you. I...didn't think you knew. If you did...I'd probably be dead."

She shook her head. "I never wanted to hurt you, even though I know I would. I just didn't want to keep doing it...so I left. But I had to come back. It's so much...so much bigger than I knew."

Anti-mutant terrorism. His company heavily involved. Espionage. It was more than his head could take.

Getting up abruptly,he headed for his liquor cabinet. Thoughts were swirling his mind and he couldn't make sense of any of them.

It also didn't help that he still thought she was highly kissable.

A quick shot and he felt a bit better. "So. What you're saying is that my company -- my father's company -- is responsible for financially spearheading an anti-mutant security measure, intended on killing mutants. All of them. X-gene humans." He paused and shook his head. "Impossible."

And then something hit him. "Wait -- you got in? What are you talking about?". Another rifle through his memories and he felt instantly stupid. "I invited you in. I did this. Wow. Good to know that absolutely nothing between us was real."

"No," Jean said reflexively, her face twisting in pain. She frowned. "I do...like you. Like I said, the exhibition was before I knew anything about all of this. I wanted...I wanted more. I wanted to be with you. But I knew once you found out about all of this you'd think like you do now. And I had to think of bigger things than us."

She finally walked over to a chair, sinking down in it, almost in defeat.

"The tech will capture or kill. I don't know when they're intending on testing it, but I know what that means. That's why I need you. You can get more information. Your father trusts you. You can figure out when they'll finish the prototypes, when they'll start using them. And we can stop them."

She stared down at her hands, hoping the good feeling she had about him was warranted. Otherwise she might have to get creative.

"There's a group I work with...they can help. The man who started it, I want you to meet him. So we can tell him about what's going on."

"Nothing is going on!" Now he was firmly in disbelief. He threw his arms up in the air. "This is crazy! Do you honestly expect me to believe this, just because you say so? My father doesn't hate mutants. Why would he do something like this?"

He rubbed his face with his hands and blinked furiously. Pieces were slowly coming together but none of it made sense. "And you work with who? Why would this group care? Are they pro-mutant? What are they going to do with this technology? Use it against humans? God, why can't people just get along?" Gone was his usual calm and collected self. So many emotions were going through his mind, and he had no idea what to do anymore.

"I'm so confused..."

"I don't know why. Fear, perhaps?" Jean said, studying him. She'd asked that question so many times. And Charles always had an answer, a way of making her feel comforted even in her darkest times. It gave her hope.

"People fear what they don't understand. Fear makes one feel helpless, so they trade it for anger, and hate. I hope maybe someday that will change." She rose from her chair, walking over to the window again. The world was vast. It spoke to her behind heavy walls.

"I know it's hard to believe, but I can show you what I found. Or you can see yourself....you have the access. We don't want to use the technology. We don't want it to be used by anyone."

Falling silent for a few moments, her attention focused on a stack of books on the table. One of them floated up, then came to rest in her hand. Her green eyes flickered up toward him.

"We care because we're mutants."

He couldn't help it. He stared at the book, almost willing it to move again, anything, so he could disprove what he just saw.

In his entire life, he'd never personally witnessed a mutant use their powers. It was part of why he was so scared when his wings grew in, when he realized he was a mutant. It had never been painted as something positive in the media, and he'd had no one to guide him through it. All he had were half truths.

Part of him wanted to cry with joy. There were other mutants, ones who weren't hellbent on world domination. If she hadn't told him everything else, he probably would've stripped his shirt off and shown he too was a mutant.

But he couldn't forget how she used him. How she went behind his back and stole information.

It was easier to say nothing. He continued to stare at the book.

Jean watched him and the cavalcade of emotions that had went across his face in those few moments. The silence was almost deafening. "I didn't know how you'd react. I was afraid if I said something earlier...and you were anti-mutant...It wouldn't go very well. I can pass. But some of my friends aren't so lucky," she said. She didn't read his mind. She believed a person's thoughts were sacred. It built trust to know she never would. Even if he didn't even know she was a telepath. If he did, he'd probably think she read it anyway. She'd already betrayed him.

"We can't do this alone. If Biotech is allowed to get those prototypes online...they'll be hunting us down in the streets."

I can pass. But some of my friends aren't so lucky. . He could pass. His life was one truth away from crumbling down, something he'd always known since those first days his wings grew in, but at the end of the day, no one knew he was a mutant. Not a single person in his life.

He wasn't sure if he could give that secret up.

"I'll talk with my father. That's all I can promise at this point." He leaned onto the cabinet, his drink now empty in his hand. "And if this is all true, that my father is so anti mutant, he'd rather them all dead...what will your friends do with him?"

"I don't know. That's not my call," Jean admitted. "But they won't hurt him. That's not what we do. We try to help mutants who are in danger. And we try to foster some hope that someday humans and mutants will live together in peace. It may not be today, but the journey of 1000 miles..."

"It's an impossible dream," he said idly, staring out the window. Warren had lived his life in the upper echelons of society and he knew what they thought of mutantkind.

And those that had the gold, made the rules.

He repeated himself. "I'll talk to my father. I can't promise when, but I'll do it as soon as possible. That's all I'm willing to commit to right now."

"It's a dream worth fighting for. I would rather try, and fail, than to live my life in fear," Jean said. She glanced down.

"Thank you. I know...there are no apologies for this that will make you feel better right now. I only hope one day you can forgive me. I was trying to save lives. And I didn't know you. I didn't know how you'd react if I asked you. I didn't think you'd believe me." Even now she still wondered if he had his doubts.

"Be careful, and...please don't tell him about me. If the people he's working with find out I could be in danger. There are ties within Biotech that lead to the Friends of Humanity. If they find out who I am..."

He pursed his lips together. That statement bothered him. "I'm not vindictive. Just because you don't return my affections doesn't mean I'm going to hand you over on a silver platter."

A heavy sigh escaped him. "Your secret is safe with me."

"I--" Jean started to argue with him. She did like him. She did want to get to know him better too. But after this, maybe it was better to leave things alone and let him sort things out on his own. It probably wouldn't happen now. She'd messed up. Better to just own up to that.

Turning away from him for a moment, she closed her eyes, then composed herself. "Thank you," she said finally. She folded her arms, hugging her stomach.

"I should go."

He gave a tired nod. This conversation had exhausted him. All he wanted to do now was lay in bed and replay this conversation. In actuality, he'd be spending the rest of the night scouring every piece of information he had on Biotech before speaking with his father.

"Probably," he said finally. "I'll have my driver take you home." Before she could protest, he added, "It's raining and it'll take you forever to get a cab. Just take the ride."

"You don't have to," Jean said softly. She was going to say it anyway.

Letting out a breath, she finally nodded. "Thank you." She had forgotten how they had stubbornness in common.

"Yeah." He looked down and sighed again. "Are we done now? I'd like to be alone."

It was like being stabbed in the heart and twisting the knife. Jean stared at him for a few moments, as if that might do anything, then slowly turned away.

"We're done," she echoed him, walking toward the elevator as she clutched her stomach tightly.

"Goodbye."

He said nothing as he watched her leave. Warren was so much happier when he thought she wanted nothing to do with him. But this new information....

He poured himself another drink and stood at the window, watching the rain, trying to figure out how he would talk to his father.

And wonder if, after that conversation, he would even still have a father.

Jean was the last thing on his mind.