Chapter Text
"Stop it!" Jean dropped her purse and book bag as soon as she walked into the mansion she called home. All she saw was blue fur and a man, but she could feel the man's confusion about the fight. She hadn't even walked to the front door before their rampant emotions plagued her mind. Her shoes clicked along the hardwood floor as she ran at the two men. Her hand outstretched in front of her as she concentrated on Hank's body, pushing him away from the stranger. His back hit the stairs as glass showered down from the chandelier, caught in the cross fire of her still wild powers. Strands of stray fiery hair fell into her face, getting loose from the tight bun she had it in for her waitressing job. She stood between Hank and the man, panting from exhausting herself with her display of power. "Stop it and talk the situation out... right now..."
Hank rose from his ungraceful fall, wiping glass from his clothes. Having heard the commotion, a cranky Charles descended from the stairs in a robe, which told Jean it was not a good day, not that it ever was anymore. "Jean," he questioned, "What is going on and what did you do to my chandelier? And just who is that?"
"A guest."
"An intruder."
"A friend."
Jean, Hank, and the man all responded at once to the question before Charles started descending the stairs. "A friend? I don't have those."
A pang of hurt emanated from Hank and Jean felt her heart reciprocate the feeling. She hated how much he devalued her and Hank. To him, Hank was his dealer and she was the maid.
"I was sent here by you." There was a strange sense of comfort and familiarity pulsing from this man as he spoke.
"By me?"
"Yeah, about fifty years from now."
"Jean?" And now her job as a personal lie detector came in. She closed her eyes for a prolonged moment as she probed at him.
"He's telling the truth..."