Revelations

A small army of hazmat suit wearing mutants flooded into the room. They grabbed Storm and hauled her away. She started coughing, and Professor X looked at you with anger in his eyes as she was led away.

“How could you?” he said quietly.

“I didn’t mean to. Jean wasn’t responding to physical contact anymore. I had to turn off the containment device, and Ororo was standing too close.” I said truthfully.

“It’s true, Professor.” Jean managed. She was snuggled against my chest, my arms wrapped around her, trying to pump more of the chemical into her.

“Well, I’m glad you’re recovering, Jean. But I’m quarantining you again. Perhaps Hank can take a more in-depth medical examination.” Charles nodded, and I turned back on the containment device and I held Jean close to me as we walked. She was shivering and pale. When we entered the quarantine room, I immediately laid down Jean, turned off the containment device and let it engulf Jean.

———

Thirty minutes later, a robot wheeled in. It waved hello at me and Jean. The voluptuous redhead was slowly recovering now that she was in the chemical’s airborne field. She was under a blanket, laying against my side, my hand on hers.

“Hello, there. I’m Hank, and I’m going to be using this drone for the medical examination.” the robot explained.

“How’s Storm?” I asked curiously.

“I’m afraid she’s suffering hard from detox. There’s talks of simply giving up and bringing her in here. Though it seems that Jean has become more reliant on the chemical, and you can no longer produce enough to keep her healthy.” Hank explained.

“How do we fix that?” I asked worriedly.

“We have to bypass your restrictor. I’m hesitant to do so, considering how unstable you are now, but if Jean and possibly Ororo need you at full strength so they can survive, we might have to.” Hank sighed.

Over the next twenty minutes, Hank’s drone scanned me a million different times at a million different angles. It backed up a little and made a chirping noise.

“That’s puzzling.” Hank’s voice came.

“What is?” I asked.

“It appears that your sperm have an insanely high concentration of the chemical. More so than even your touch.” Hank explained.

“What are you saying?” Jean groaned, and I rubbed her back comfortingly.

“I’m saying you might have to consume some of Dean’s sperm to survive.” Hank sighed. The wall panel sprung open and Scott was standing there, pounding on the glass.

“Jean! Don’t you do it!” he roared. Jean looked up at him miserably.

“I’m dying, Scott. If I don’t get my fix, I will die. If that’s the way to do it, I’m ok with it.” Jean steeled herself.

“Well, I’m not!” Scott threw up his arms. Hank’s drone rolled forwards holding a complicated tool.

“What the hell is that?” I asked. Hank chuckled dryly.

“This is going to extract your sperm. Just strip down and clench your buttcheeks.” Hank instructed.

———

Ten very awkward minutes later, we had seven vials of sperm, measured out carefully by Hank. He claimed a dose of this and Jean should be able to move away from you for 6-8 hours. I knelt beside Jean, and handed her the vial. With shaky hands, she fumbled for the cork, and I popped it open easily. She gave me a grateful smile, and turned her attention to the vial. She swirled it around a little, then put the glass to her lips.

“Bottoms up.” Hank’s drone urged. Jean did, hungrily drinking down every last drop of my sperm. I was fascinated with how enthralled with it she was. Hank’s drone rolled forwards and took the empty vial. Jean visibly got healthier, her skin regaining its color, her eyes vibrant again. She bounded across the room, and instead of buckling, she stood there proudly.

“Seems to have worked. Dean, other corner.” Hank ordered. I did, and Jean didn’t react to my distance at all.

“Now, you’re going to stay like this until Jean shows withdrawal symptoms, so we can measure the duration of the dosage.” Hank explained.

The next few hours were boring, just crammed into a corner with a robot for company. And Jean, but she was far away enough I had to get quite loud.

It took three hours before Jean’s legs buckled and she fell forwards. I started moving, and she gave me a wry grin as I knelt over her, while she breathed in deeply.

“Interesting. So the effect of independence only lasts about three hours. But she seems healthier than she was regardless.” Hank mused. Just then, the doors swung open, and two hazmat wearing men dragged a limp, pale, sweaty, unconscious Storm between them.

“Professor says save her.” one of the men, Scott, ordered. I nodded and crouched beside her, putting my hand on her cheek, and my other one on her arm. She barely moved, but her eyes started fluttering.

“My scans indicate your lips are also quite concentrated.” Hank said helpfully. I leaned down and kissed Storm’s forehead, and not long after, she stopped looking so flushed and pale, losing the weird albinism effect. Once she was once again a dark-skinned beauty, she woke up slowly, and I realized abruptly that I had Storm sprawled across me, my arms wrapped around her torso, holding her top half up off the ground.

“Don’t let go. I feel so sick.” Ororo begged, and I pulled her closer, pressing a kiss to her cheek.

“You’ll be OK.” I assured Storm. She nodded wearily, and started drifting off. I gently rocked her and she gave me a sleepy smile before she drifted off. Jean cuddled closer, drying to drink in more chemical, probably.

When the doors opened again, it was Professor X.

“Mr. Wayne, I would like to speak with you telepathically, if you consent?” he offered. I nodded. Suddenly I was in this strange barren room, and Charles Xavier STOOD before me, and he pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Dean Wayne, you are a catastrophe. Within your first week, you’ve already gotten two of my strongest mutants addicted to whatever chemical is in hour body. That’s why you’re being placed in permanent quarantine. I’m very sorry, Mr. Wayne, but I just can’t, with good conscious, let you out.” he apologized. Then, a sharp alarm cut through the mind room, and I was back in the quarantine room, while an alarm was going off.

“An attack!” Scott yelled.