Jean, Warren, Scott, Xavier: Decisions

[x-jeangrey.livejournal.com]

Jean and Warren arrive at the mansion to talk to Charles Xavier about Warren's company. They also meet his right hand man, Scott Summers.



The gates were new, shiny, displaying an 'X' up at the top that proclaimed their owner. They opened up with a tiny squeak due to the heaviness of the metal, and Jean, driving a rental car, headed inside, making the long, winding drive up to the top of the hill. She'd been here before but it had been awhile. The last time had been to drop off someone after a X-Corps mission. She never stayed. It was perhaps an old habit. Xavier's was a forbidden realm. Her father had been against it, for reasons more than just safety. But by the time he had gotten over his minor squabbles Jean had already grown up, too old for schooling.

She glanced to Warren as they drove, and wanted to say something, but he still wasn't talking to her. Just like the last hour and a half. North had taken a separate car.

The car came to a stop in the circular driveway, and Jean climbed out, propping her sunglasses on top of her head. She stared up at the mansion. It seemed to emit grandeur, yet held a certain comfort to it. A belonging.

"It shouldn't take too long."

What Jean had perceived as anger was actually a sense of anxiety on Warren's part. He hadn't spoken simply because he didn't trust himself to speak.

Part of him was thrilled that North was in another vehicle though.

When the car pulled in, Warren wasn't phased by the manor. It was another mansion, albeit a nicely landscaped one but ultimately nothing special. Getting out after Jean, he straightened his tie, and brushed off a non existent wrinkle from his suit.

"I thought you said they were expecting us?"

Scott pushed off the wall he had been leaning against observing the two of them, Warren and Jean together back at the mansion. It brought back such strong memories, like part of him was watching the mansion become home again, although it still wasn't. "We have been expecting you, Mr Worthington, Dr. Grey, I'm Scott Summers. Thank you for coming in to see us today, if you follow me Professor Xavier is waiting in his study."

Studying the new face, Jean smiled warmly. "Nice to meet you, Mr. Summers. I've heard a lot about you. All good things, of course," she said. He seemed a bit stiff, but it was likely just due to formality.

She glanced to Warren. "Are you ready?" she said, then added in quiet assurance.

"He's a good man, I promise. One of the best I know."

Warren almost said he didn't need her assurances, but he decided against it. To be honest, he was tired and more nervous than he cared to admit.

Clearing his throat, he extended his hand to Scott. "A pleasure. I look forward to meeting with the professor. After you, I suppose."

"Well he has the big office at the end of the hallway," Scott allowed with a small smile as he pulled open the door for the other two, "it's kind of hard to miss it, not that we don;t get the odd student or two who try. It's almost like a right of passage."

The trip to Charles' office was a short one, Scott just lead the two to an otherwise obtrusive door at the end of a well-used pathway. "Professor, Charles Xavier," he announced with a flourish as he pushed the door open and indicated the others to precede him in.

Charles was behind his desk, but he directed his chair out to meet the group half-way. "Thank you, Scott," he told the 'guide', and then smiled at the red-head. "And it's good to see you, Jean. You look well." His attention then went to the new face. "And you must be Mr. Worthington. I'm Charles Xavier."

Warren wasn't expecting what he saw, although if he was honest, he had no idea what mental image he had made for Charles. It wasn't someone in a wheelchair though.

Extending his hand, he gave a sharp nod to his head. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Xavier. I apologize it's under such dismal circumstances; however, I was given the impression that it was of the utmost important that we meet as soon as possible."

"'Professor' Xavier, please." Charles' correction came with a smile and a firm handshake. "Please, all of you, make yourselves comfortable. I took the liberty of arranging some tea.

Scott waited for the others to sit down before settling himself in his favorite chair and glancing over at Warren and Jean. "So, we know roughly what happened, but why don't you fill us in on the details?" he asked curiously.

Studying Charles' office as Jean took a seat next to Warren, Jean decided Charles's office suited him. It was a mixture of old world grandeur, with rich wood inlay, and the contemporary touches of a forward thinker. She'd been here before, but it was so long ago that the details were still hazy. Mostly she'd remembered thinking it was like something out of the movie Annie, stepping into a place that was usually meant for the upper echelon. Jean was by no means poor. Her parents made a healthy amount of money, being a professor and editor, but they worked for what they got. It wasn't inherited. And they made sure she and her sister lived the same way.

"Well..." she said, casting a glimpse at Warren before looking back to the two men. "I met Warren at an exhibition opening sponsored by his family. The newspaper got a picture of us and one of my friends in the mutant underground saw it. She had been contacted by an employee at Warren's company, a fellow mutant who suspected they were working on mutant capture or eradication technology. My friend had been trying to find a way to get more information when she saw me with Warren. She knew I worked with X-Corps and thought I could find a way in."

The explanation was practiced and careful. She knew she'd be asked, but it was harder to talk about in Warren's presence. Sometimes she thought it easier if she had no emotions, and was able to dissociate between the two. If he had been a bastard she would have. But he wasn't.

"I wasn't sure how deep Warren's involvement was. And I knew if I asked him, and he was working with his father, then it would risk drawing dangerous attention. So..." She glanced down. "I kept quiet until I could get the information. I managed to get into Warren's office and used some hacking software provided by my contact to get into the Worthington Industries servers. All of our suspicions were confirmed, and... it was worse than we thought. We discovered that Worthington Industries not only has been working with a company called Biotech to develop anti-mutant technology, but they've already started on prototypes. After talking more with Warren I realized he wasn't involved, and that he could potentially help us. So I talked to him. And here we are."

Warren couldn't even hide the emotions on his face. This went deeper than he'd thought. Mutant underground? What?

With a blank look on his face, Warren crossed his arms, annoyed that he'd sat down. It was easier to be stoic when standing. Sitting, he simply looked annoyed. He tried to give a blank look on his face.

"Once Jean brought this information to me, I went and spoke with my father," he continued. "While he didn't confirm anything in particular, I was able to gather that he has some strong anti-mutant sentiments. He sees nothing wrong with potential deaths of mutants and I can only assume he is actively working with Biotech. He has reshuffled my portfolio, and I have very minimal involvement with the company. He's made it his own personal project, which is unlike him."

Warren sat up, and tried to put his hands in his suit pocket, leaning slightly forward. "I don't want any deaths on my conscience. There's been enough lately, and I want no part in it. I can't believe that mutant sentiment has gotten so bad that the ongoing deaths of mutants would be acceptable."

"Unfortunately, this M-Day event, as they're calling it, has people frightened and angry, and even though mutants were hardest hit by it, we're visible and easy to blame." Charles met Warren's eyes with his own, penetrating gaze - even without the bulk of his telepathy, he was still a great reader of character.

"Tell me, Mr. Worthington, why not simply bring this information to your stockholders, or the public at large? Anti-mutant feeling is on the rise, but biological weapons of the type Jean is describing would still raise enough concern that the project would be the subject of official inquiry."

Warren swallowed thickly. He had been prepared for this question but that didn't make it any easier. "Because this world isn't ready for a mutant CEO. I can't, in good conscience, allow my father the opportunity to decimate mutants further nor can I turn a blind eye. But," he added, looking right at Professor Xavier,

"I can't see how I can help by being out. I can do more good behind the scenes while my father still trusts me. He doesn't know my secret." He cleared his throat. "No one does. At least. No one did."

The comment confirmed Jean's suspicions, but she didn't comment on it. She glanced between Charles and Scott, the other man in the room. "So what's the next step? This doesn't seem like something that's easily fixed."

"Legally no," Scott allowed, his voice neutral, "we have to respect Warren's wishes and can't out him, but now that we know what his father is doing we have an idea of where to look," he continued exchanging a glance with Charles, "We can use that information to throw a spanner in the works."

"And I can help," Warren added. "I'm not going to sit idly by while this happens. I want to help."

"Yes, Warren, you are correct - you will be able to assist more, for now at least, if you keep your secret." Charles nodded at the blonde man with one of his small smiles. "I appreciate your confidence, and we'll do all we can to help you. With our combined resources, we have a greater chance of dealing with the situation, after all, although it might take some time."

"Anything I can do," Jean said with a resolute nod. She had heard that he was folding all the X-Teams together to be at the mansion, but it never quite occurred to her that X-Corps would be one of them. It had always been such a global organization, though mostly based in Europe. It would be difficult to operate from the US, given the commute. But she kept forgetting that the people they tried to help were pretty much all but decimated, and that changed things.

"I guess I'm moving in."

Scott's eyes momentarily shot open at that before he got himself under control, "I'll set up a suite for you," he told Jean, you had to know him very well to catch the hitch in his voice as the spoke to her, "And you too Warren, if you'd like a suite at the mansion as a retreat?" We can certainly use any help either of you can you offer, especially dealing with a threat like this. We've dealt with this before, but you're more up to date on the situation than Charles or myself."

It would make sense. Warren didn't think he'd use it often -- or at all -- but the offer made it all more genuine. He should feel happy.

Instead, he felt like he was going to throw up. Sharing his secret had been difficult, and then to be encouraged to share it with more people.....even though logically he knew it was a measure of good faith, it was still terrifying.

"Thank you for everything and for your generous offers. I appreciate it all, and I assure you, you have gained an ally in myself. Now, if you'll excuse me, this has been a lot of information, and I could use some fresh air." He provided a forced smile as he stood up, and bowed his head slightly. "Until the next time, which I hope will be under more positive circumstances."

Without waiting to be excused, he rushed out of the room until he was outside, where he could hyperventilate in peace.