[84] Quick Escape

Chapter 84: Quick Escape

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By the time my room cleared, the morning sunlight streamed through the large bay windows of Xavier's sitting room, bathing the antique furniture in a warm glow that completely failed to match the atmosphere.

My body ached all over. Must be the consequences of having your consciousness get beaten up in some Omega Level telepath’s mind, I supposed. No instruction manual for that particular experience.

I slouched deeper into the overstuffed armchair, watching Gwen pace back and forth across the expensive carpet. There we go again. Her steps were sharp, and growing increasingly agitated with each pass. The room itself was the picture of old money – leather-bound books no one ever read, furniture too nice to actually use, and the faint smell of lemon polish that rich people seemed to think made everything better.

"Five, four, three, two..." I counted silently, waiting for the explosion I knew was coming.

Gwen stopped abruptly, crossing her arms and fixing me with the kind of stare that made supervillains reconsider their life choices.

"So, you return from my room, and then the entire mansion goes to hell," she said, her voice deliberately casual in that way that meant I was in deep trouble. "Are we going to talk about why that clone was in your room in the middle of the night?"

I sighed, rubbing my temples. The headache building behind my eyes wasn't just from psychic backlash, it was from knowing this conversation was inevitable.

"Well, that woman, Madelyne, was…" I said, emphasizing the name, "She was really confused. So she came to talk. She was disoriented, scared... you know, the normal reaction to finding out you might be a clone."

"And naturally, your bedroom was the most appropriate place for this heart-to-heart?" Gwen raised an eyebrow, her foot now tapping impatiently against the floor. The rhythm matched perfectly with the pounding in my head.

Before I could craft a response that wouldn't dig my grave deeper, Grandpa Max entered carrying three steaming mugs of coffee.

Despite everything that had happened – psychic attacks, demonic manifestations, the mansion being turned into a literal nightmare – he looked surprisingly refreshed. He'd even found time to change into a fresh Hawaiian shirt, this one adorned with cheerful yellow pineapples against a blue background that screamed of "tourist traps."

"Here you go, kids. Thought you could use the caffeine," he said, handing us each a mug.

The coffee smelled strong enough to strip paint. Exactly what I needed.

"Thanks, Grandpa," I mumbled, taking a grateful sip. Definitely not Xavier's fancy imported stuff – this was classic Max Tennyson brew, probably made with twice the recommended grounds.

Gwen accepted her mug but clearly wasn't ready to drop the subject. "Grandpa, don't you think it's inappropriate that Ben had that woman in his room last night?"

I nearly choked on my coffee, preparing for the inevitable lecture. Instead, Grandpa chuckled, clapping me on the shoulder with enough force to send the scalding liquid dangerously close to the rim of my mug.

"Now, Gwen, don’t be so mad at him. I'm actually proud of the boy. Always rushing to protect these lost souls." His eyes twinkled with something like pride. "That's exactly what a Tennyson should do. Reminds me of myself at your age, actually."

I couldn't help but cough, both from surprise and coffee going down the wrong pipe. "I don't think that's what Gwen meant…"

"I certainly was not," Gwen said simultaneously.

Grandpa waved us both off. "No need to be modest, Ben. Standing up to that Sinister fellow, defending a woman who needed help... good job! This is what heroes do."

I shot Gwen a glance, watching her face contort with frustration. She was caught in the perfect trap – wanting to call me out while not wanting to imply I should've left Madelyne to fend for herself against a psychic megalomaniac.

"That's... that's not what I was talking about!" Her cheeks flushed with annoyance.

"Then what were you talking about?" Grandpa asked innocently, though I caught the slight twitch at the corner of his mouth. Oh no, does he know? Nah, no way.

Gwen opened her mouth, then closed it again. "Never mind," she finally muttered, taking an aggressive sip of her coffee.

I couldn't help the triumphant smirk that spread across my face. Grandpa's misunderstanding had saved me from a lecture I definitely wasn't in the mood for. Gwen caught my expression and narrowed her eyes, promising retribution later.

The tension was mercifully broken when Storm glided into the room, somehow looking elegant despite everything. Her white hair was perfectly styled, her posture regal, and not a single wrinkle marred her outfit. Some people just had a gift for making chaos look good.

"I apologize for intruding on your family time, dear friends. But the Professor has called a meeting to discuss last night's events," she announced, her voice carrying that teacher-tone as well as a softness when she looked at me. Her gaze was thankful. "He'd like all of you to attend, if you're feeling up to it."

I stood, stretching my arms above my head until my spine popped. "Lead the way. Though I'm not sure how much help I'll be without sleep."

"You're an expert at functioning without sleep," Gwen muttered, but followed nonetheless.

As we trailed after Storm through the mansion's elaborate hallways, I noticed the aftermath of last night's psychic storm. Claw marks gouged the wood paneling, water damage from burst pipes stained the ceiling, and several windows had been hastily covered with plastic sheeting. Students clustered in small groups, whispering amongst themselves, falling silent as we passed.

It was quite the sight, and I didn’t mean that in a good way. I'd read about Jean Grey and the Phoenix Force, about Madelyne Pryor and the Goblin Queen in the pages of comics. But reading about cosmic entities and genetic manipulation in comic books was vastly different from experiencing it firsthand. With the Omnitrix pulsing in my wrist, I always reminded myself that this was not some video game but reality.

Haah.

At least the coffee was good.

****

The meeting dragged on for what felt like centuries. Xavier's study was packed with X-Men, all with opinions about security protocols, student safety, and what to do with “Madelyne.” Scott Summers was particularly vocal about placing her in some kind of power-dampening containment, while Jean Grey – the original – advocated for rehabilitation.

I'd tuned out somewhere around the third hour, slouching in a chair outside the study where I'd been banished after telling Cyclops to "pull the stick out of his ass and try some human compassion." Not my finest diplomatic moment, but that stupid bastard was seriously getting on my nerves with his black-and-white thinking.

I realize Cyclops wasn’t shown as a bad guy in the comics and movies, because ultimately, he does save lives. But if you really nitpick, especially his character as shown in comics that weren’t X-Men, he’d always been a rash person.

Imagine Captain America, but with anger issues. And worse.

Morning light filtered through the mansion's windows, casting shadows across the polished floor as I yawned. My eyelids drooped, head nodding forward as exhaustion finally caught up with me. Just as I was about to surrender to sleep, my phone vibrated in my pocket.

I fumbled for it, squinting at the bright screen. Jessica Jones' name appeared with a message.

[Jewel ?: Sorry for bothering you, Mr. Tennyson. I've been working on this one project right now and wondering if you could come help.]

Suddenly more awake, I replied immediately.

[Me: Mr. Tennyson?]

Her response came quickly.

[Jewel ?:  Yes? What else do I call you? Since we aren't close enough to text each other for days, aren't we just work colleagues?]

I winced, feeling a pang of guilt. With everything that had happened – Charmcaster, Limbo, the Goblin Queen situation – I'd completely failed to check in with her.

[Me: Um... You know how busy my life can get, right?]

[Jewel ?: Yes of course. Same dude who ran two thousand miles in 5 seconds but can’t find five seconds to send me a text asking ‘Hey, hru?’ Yes, I know.]

A smile tugged at my lips. Even when she was pissed, Jessica had a way of cutting through the bullshit that I appreciated.

[Me: I did all that for you, if you remember.]

There was a pause before Jessica responded with just ellipses:

[Jewel ?: ...]

I quickly typed:

[Me: Anyways, what are you working on? Actually never mind, you can tell me once I reach you. I'm in Westchester right now, it's a whole situation. I'll tell you why I was busy, it's reaaaaly crazy, and you'll tell me about this job you've been working on. Wait for me for a bit, I'll be there soon.]

The coming response made me grin.

[Jewel ?: Mwah, alright. I'm waiting.]

I pocketed my phone, feeling lighter than I had since arriving at the mansion. A day away from mind-controlling villains and identity crises sounded perfect. Plus, if I were being honest with myself, I'd missed Jessica.

There was something refreshingly straightforward about her that I needed right now.

First, though, I needed to inform Gwen and Grandpa Max about my plans. No way was I getting another lecture about disappearing without notice.

I found them in the mansion's massive kitchen, where Gwen was helping several younger students clean up breakfast dishes while Grandpa Max regaled them with heavily edited Plumber stories. From the kids' wide eyes and occasional gasps, he was making alien diplomatic incidents sound like action movies.

"...and that's when I realized the ambassador wasn't trying to poison me – those were actually ceremonial greeting eggs!" Grandpa was saying as I walked in. "But by then I'd already locked him in the supply closet with a bag of fertilizer and a broken communicator."

"Grandpa," I interrupted, "hate to break up storytime, but Jessica just texted. She needs help with something in the city."

Gwen's eyes narrowed suspiciously as she set down a stack of plates. "Uh-huh. And this sudden 'emergency' has nothing to do with avoiding cleanup duty here?"

"Pure coincidence," I insisted with an innocent shrug that fooled absolutely no one. "Nothing serious like last time, just standard PI stuff."

Grandpa Max studied me for a moment, his expression shifting from entertainer to seasoned Plumber. Those eyes had stared down aliens with god complexes – they saw right through my half-truth.

"Be back by dinner," he finally said. "And call if anything comes up."

"Always do," I replied, choosing to ignore Gwen's snort of disbelief. I gave her a nod in the end. After our talk last night, I could tell this bothered her a little, but as she’d admitted, she didn’t really mind it. She’d accepted it.

I planned to tell Jessica about Charmcaster, too. I didn’t want to continue leading her on and betray her trust in me.

With their reluctant blessing secured, there was one more person I needed to see before leaving. I asked several students before learning Madelyne had been placed in one of the mansion's guest rooms – not in Jean's room as I might have expected. The news made me frown.

The room was in the east wing, far from the main student areas. I knocked lightly before pushing the door open. Inside, the room was sparsely furnished but comfortable. Madelyne lay on the bed, still wearing clothes from last night, staring at the ceiling with an expression so blank it hurt to see.

"Hey," I said softly, stepping inside. "How are you feeling?"

Madelyne turned her head slowly, recognition dawning in her eyes. "Ben. I... I'm not sure. Everything feels foggy." She attempted a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes.

I pulled up a chair beside the bed, frowning as I took in her isolation. "Why didn't they let you stay in Jean's room? It bothers me that they've got you tucked away here like some dirty secret."

"Hey, they didn't make me," Madelyne replied, her voice stronger than I expected. "I asked to be placed here. That room... Jean's room... it doesn't feel like mine anymore. Maybe it never was."

I nodded, understanding her need for separation. "What happens now? What do you want to do?"

She sat up slowly, tucking her knees under her chin in a protective gesture that made her look younger, more vulnerable. "First, I want to thank you. For everything." Her voice dropped to almost a whisper. "For seeing me as... someone. Not just a copy."

"You don't need to thank me for basic decency," I said, meaning it.

She took a deep breath. "As for what's next... I want to leave. Start fresh somewhere new. Build a life that's mine, not Jean's hand-me-down existence."

"Nah," I said gently but firmly. "Your mind is still weak to Sinister's control, you know that. You might be good now, but if left alone, he might get full control over you. Stay here for a bit, yeah? When Grandpa, Gwen and I leave, we can figure something together. How does that sound?"

A soft look crossed Madelyne's face. She reached out, gently grabbing my shirt and pulling me closer. I recognized the intent in her eyes immediately – the mixture of gratitude, confusion, and desperate need for connection that had nothing to do with genuine attraction. After all, she’d done this exact thing to poor Logan in the show. How cheap. But in her defence, her mind wasn’t quite clear yet.

I stopped her with gentle hands on her shoulders, looking directly into her eyes. "I wouldn't mind kissing a top beauty, but I don't think you really want this kiss other than your confused emotions. Rest for now, alright?"

“....”

Then I leaned forward and placed a soft kiss on her cheek – my choice, my initiation, nothing that could be misinterpreted as taking advantage of her vulnerable state.

"I'll see you later. I gotta go meet a friend in Manhattan," I said, standing up.

As I reached the door, Madelyne called after me. "Ben… Thank you for stopping me. You're right." A genuine smile finally reached her eyes. "Maybe I do need to figure out who Madelyne is before I start kissing random heroes."

I grinned back. "Random? You’re hurting my feelings, after all we’ve been through together.”

“Oh please,” she smiled, and it wasn’t forced.

“Yes. Anyhow, I'll be around when you figure it out."

I closed the door behind me, already planning my route to Manhattan. Maybe I’ll try Stinkfly? The flight would give me time to clear my head. Nah, the last thing I needed was more attention after what happened at the mansion. I didn’t want to risk going XLR8 either. By now, police must have found Killgrave’s body, and if that report piqued SHIELD’s interest, they probably checked all CCTVs to find the killer. It might be me overthinking, but it didn’t hurt to be careful, even with the Plumbers looking out for me.

Everything in the Marvel universe seemed to be accelerating around me, and not all in the predictable way. Madelyne Pryor was supposed to be pregnant with Scott's child by now, according to the comics I remembered. Instead, she'd broken up with him and was trying to forge her own identity. I wanted to avoid more problems.

Right now, I had a private investigator waiting for me in Manhattan, and I was looking forward to whatever case she had – anything to take my mind off cosmic entities and genetic manipulation for a while.

I went Ghostfreak, going invisible and pushing my speed to the limit. Yes, there was a chance that overusing Ghostfreak wasn’t wise, but I recently decided on something. If Zs'Skayr was inside the Omnitrix somehow, even in this universe, it was better to bait him out fast and kick him out, rather than keeping him in there to learn more about everything.

In short…

I didn’t care. I just loved the wind.

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