Patent Pending - Jean and Cecilia: Safe Haven

[x-jeangrey.livejournal.com]

After patching up Matt and telling off Los Tres Amigos, Jean heads back to the mansion to get herself patched up, and gets an earful herself from Cecilia.



Climbing into the taxi with a wince, Jean pulled out her cellphone after giving the driver the address to a motel midway between here and Salem Center. In the meantime, she texted Cecilia, knowing she was on medlab duty.

Hey, so...question?

As the cab sped on, a minute or so passed before Jean's phone pinged back with a reply.

Yeah. What's up?

Jean glanced at the cabbie. She would've preferred to have this conversation on the phone but she didn't feel like wiping yet another person's mind.

What's the protocol if you're targeted for death by a cybernetic-enhanced assassin? I think Arnold Schwarzenegger is a little too busy making unnecessary Expendables sequels to help play bodyguard.

Letting out a breath, she rested her head against the back of the seat out of sheer exhaustion.

I was thinking going back to the mansion might not be a good idea. I get the feeling they probably know where I live already though. I'm headed to a motel.

Her work in the mutant underground meant she knew how to hide someone if she had to, but she didn't think she'd be using it on herself.

The texts came in rapid succession.

Safe here.
Lots of protection.
Wtf happened and are you hurt

By then they had passed the New York City city limits sign. Jean glanced behind her a moment to make sure they weren't being followed.

Remember when I got information on the anti-mutant tech from Warren's company? Yeah, they didn't like that. Apparently the tech specs were sold to another company and they traced the original theft back to me. Whoever my contact in the mutant underground got the infiltration software from must've copied the information. Anyway, they sent someone after me when I was on my way to help out a friend after my shift. It didn't go well but I psi-blasted him so bad he crapped his pants and ran away. I managed to wipe his mind too. Hooray for telepathy, I guess.

Staring at the text a moment, Jean then sighed and added.

And yeah, I'm hurt. Not life threatening, though. I just need to make sure I didn't break a couple of bones.

It was not something she enjoyed admitting.

I don't want to get anyone at the mansion hurt if they come looking. Especially the kids. This is my screwup for not being careful in the first place.

There was a longer silence than Jean might have expected. And then the phone rang.

Jean made a face, eying the cabbie. This was why she wanted her own car. She really didn't want to wipe another person's mind tonight. Her head was already killing her, along with everything else. She pressed answer.

"Hey," she said. "This is kind of a bad time to talk about the business meeting. I just got a cab to the motel."

"These texts are epic poems," Cecilia said flatly, "so I"m assuming you're not dying." Nothing in her voice suggested she'd actually listened to a word Jean said. "But if you're not coming home, you better take that cab straight to a hospital."

"I can't really do that. Not sure how I'd explain it," Jean said. She rubbed her forehead.

"And no, I'm not doing that thing you said. Thank God. I feel like I'm probably gonna pass out soon, though."

There was silence on the other end of the phone, and then Cecilia sighed with a breath so heavy that it was almost as if she were in the cab rubbing her temples and wrinkling her brow. "Where the hell are you going?"

"Other than the motel, not sure. I wasn't planning on....meeting up with that client so it wasn't like I had time to talk to any of my colleagues about accommodations," Jean said, briefly meeting the cabbie's eyes a moment. She could tell by now that he figured something was going on, considering how she was covered in dirt and blood and walked with a limp.

Eventually it was her turn to sigh. She was so freaking tired, physically, emotionally. Screw it.

"Are you sure it's safe there?"

"Yes." Cecilia's curtness suggested exactly how stupid of a question she thought this was. "You understand what happens here. We've got security. And doctors."

Which was exactly what Jean was trying to convince Matt and the others about and yet she caught herself asking the same questions they did for the sake of protecting the mansion at large. Somehow the irony of that seemed incredibly amusing to her at the moment.

"Alright...I've had enough people talk to me with that tone of voice today...I'm on my way, Should be there in a half an hour. Talk to you later," she said, then hung up and glanced to the driver.

"Change of plans. Can you take me to 1407 Greymalkin Lane in Salem Center instead?"

The drive to the mansion took about the same time as Jean had planned, and eventually the cabbie pulled up. Warren had given her a wad of money like it was nothing, so when the driver proclaimed the bill to be in the triple digits Jean was able to pass him the correct amount.

"You need some help, sweetheart?" the driver said as Jean climbed out, trying her hardest to maintain her balance. The moments of sitting had allowed her adrenaline to wear off.

"I'm fine, thanks."

Eying Jean uncertainly, the cabbie nodded. "You uh....have a good 'business meeting,'" he said, then drove off.

Staring up at the mansion at large, Jean keyed in the access code to the gate and began her slow ascent toward the building. It felt a million miles away. In the mean time she pulled out her cellphone and dialed Cecilia's number.

It was an unnecessary phone call, since Cecilia had been parked on the steps leading up to the mansion door since she and Jean had ended their conversation. Despite her curtness on the phone, she wore a look of concern that came quite naturally to her, all things considered.

At the vibration of her phone, she picked up and answered without so much as a greeting. "Stop moving." Then she stood and placed her hands on a wheelchair she'd brought with her from the medlab.

In a manner of a minute or two, she'd wheeled the chair down to Jean. "Sit down," she said, her eyes scanning Jean for any sign of major injuries but not revealing any assessment of what she saw, "and tell me how you're feeling."

Distracted by the sheer act of actually making it to the door Jean hadn't really noticed Cecilia sitting there until she stood up. Jean herself was wearing her scrubs from work but appeared to be covered in dirt and tiny patches of blood where she had been cut up by glass. She walked with a heavy limp, and clutched her sides tightly like she were holding a newborn infant.

Her face was slightly ashen and covered in sweat, and her hair looked like she'd gotten in a fight with a Tasmanian devil. Judging by the way she set her jaw, it was easy to tell she was in a fair amount of pain.

Jean eyed the wheelchair mainly to make sure she could ascertain distance before slumping into it with a heavy grimace.

"Like shit," she said. Being the day from hell, she had abandoned her usual propriety. She tried to rest her head against the back of the chair but found she was too tall and sighed.

"If I didn't crack a rib I most certainly bruised it judging by the way it's hard to breathe. Guess that happens when you're thrown through a window and dropped from the ceiling," she murmured.

Cecilia failed to prevent the inadvertent facial twitch. "Well," she said dryly, "that tends to be the case. We'll need to do an X-ray, obviously," she began to think aloud as she started rolling Jean inside. "And we'll clean you up and make sure nothing gets infected. Probably ought to check for internal bleeding and a concussion." There was a pause as her mental processes shifted from those of a doctor to those of a friend. "Who threw you through a window? A robot death merchant?"

Jean listened to Cecilia's explanation of procedures with little surprise, pulling her medkit bag in her lap a little closer to her. The wheelchair made her feel a little like an invalid, which, to be fair, she was at the moment.

"Yeah. The miracles of science. He clearly had quite a few enhancements, probably Biotech issued. Called himself Crossfire....or at least that's what I read from his mind. He was the strong, silent, psychotic type. Without my powers I probably would've been able to give a great Q&A during one of Amanda's occult series lectures on being a ghost," she mused.

Face falling, she glanced away thoughtfully as the full impact of what happened finally hit her. She thought she could sneak into a Machiavellian-esque corporation to gather information like James Bond without consequence and her short-sightedness almost cost her her life.

What did you think would happen? It always happens like that in the movies. It's what evil organizations do .

"Well," Cecilia said declaratively, even though she was declaring nothing. She was glad Jean's back was to her; she would have hated the other woman to see her pursed lips and clenched jaw. "I'm glad you're okay," her voice softened and she placed her hand on Jean's shoulder in an effort to be reassuring. "I don't — I really do think you'll be okay."

Cecilia wheeled Jean into the elevator and hit a button, and they began their descent toward the medlab. "Sorry you had to put yourself in danger like that, though."

Steepling her hands and resting her head against it, Jean nodded. "Thanks. I didn't have to, though. I needed to. Because I knew that information was important and I was the only one who could get it safely at the time. I just thought I could get away with it without no one knowing. Silly rabbit," she said, then glanced around the elevator for a few moments.

"You don't what? You were going to say something."

"Nah, not really." Cecilia shrugged. "Just thinking out loud. This is me in full-on doctor mode. A rare sight around here, frankly." The elevator stopped, and she pushed Jean out and wheeled her toward the medlab. "Would I be out of line to tell you to consider being more careful? Or less reckless?"

Pausing, Jean suddenly burst out laughing and then grabbed her side. "Ow...ow, laughing...bad...bad idea," she mumbled, sucking in few gulps of air to wait for the sharp pains to pass.

"I don't think it's funny!" Cecilia frowned. Had she not been wheeling Jean, she would have crossed her arms. "I don't get the death wishes that half of you seem to have - like life's something to be laughed off, or like you've all got unstoppable healing factors, or like you've got nothing to live for."

She just shook her head. "And don't say it's for the greater good, and it's fine, because you know what you're doing, because, hello. Look at you."

Jean held up her hands, even though she was still kind of smiling. "No...that's not what I'm....I've just never heard reckless used to describe me...ever. I'm pretty sure it's mostly been the opposite. This is kind of like being in the Twilight Zone."

Cecilia snorted. "Reckless is relative, and I don't tend to do things that have a 1-in-3 shot of me getting killed." A part of her wanted to laugh, since apparently Jean Grey was Jean Grey no matter what universe you put her in. "Here." Cecilia wheeled Jean into the medlab and toward an exam table. "Let's check you out first before we do some scans. Can you get up?"

Making a face, Jean grabbed the sides of her chair. "Can I? Yes. Does my body want to? It's pretty much giving you the middle finger on that question, to which my rational doctor brain sends its sincere apologies," she said, pushing herself up out of the chair with a small grunt as she hopped over to the exam table. At this point she was just wanting the good drugs and to sleep for at least a couple of days. Oh, and a shower. God, a shower sounded nice.

"And isn't being an X-Man generally an exercise in perpetual recklessness?" she then mused. She completely understood where she was coming from but knew they were in a precarious situation as medical professionals patching up people who fought terrorists and other n'er do wells on a regular basis. Admittedly, she did find herself more open to taking risks than she was willing to admit, which she herself found curious since she wouldn't describe herself that way.

"Wouldn't know," Cecilia shrugged, "but it certainly seems that way from the outside." She turned away from Jean to grab some hand sanitizer. "But congrats," she said with a wry smile, "you've officially survived a near-death experience. Welcome to Xavier's, I guess."

"Oh yay. Do I get my 'near-death-experience' merit badge?" Jean said, waiting for her hospital gown to change into. Getting her clothes off was going to be fun .

"Or is there some sort of punch card where if you survive 10 you become immortal?"

Cecilia laughed. "Unclear." She pumped some hand sanitizer on her palms and rubbed them together. "But I'm not encouraging you to find out."