Day Twenty-Seven

Week 12 of Pregnancy

Utopia/Asteroid M

Off the coast of San Fran

Bobby woke up later than usual the following morning and Christ, he was sore. He dragged himself out of bed and checked the mirror. Yep. Big-ass bruise on his back, just like he'd predicted.

By the time he staggered out of his room, it was around the time people started eating lunch. Walking into the cafeteria, Bobby found that it was, in fact, full. A waving of hands in the corner of the room caught his attention and he made his way over the table where Rogue, Storm, and Gambit were sitting.

"Hey guys." He said, stopping in front of them. "Do any of you know where Jean-Paul is? I need to talk to him about something."

They shook their heads.

"He'll probably be down here soon." Rogue said, "No doubt he's starvin' by now." She shook her head, "High metabolism and a baby. Whew."

Bobby blinked. "Yeah. Sure." About that. Baby? No. Babies? Yes, it would seem to be.

"There he is now," Storm announced, spying the Quebecois entering the room.

Bobby whirled around and headed over to meet him coming in. "Hey, Jean-Paul,"

"Good morning,"

"Quick question before this becomes a group thing."

"Yes?"

"Did you … last night you said we were having twins. Is that true?"

"It is."

"Oh. I thought you were maybe… just tired and confused or something. Just a little."

Jean-Paul paused and gave Bobby a strange look. They were only a few feet away from the line for food. "I don't confuse easily." He snorted.

"Yeah, I mean but twins. For real?"

"Yes, Robert –for real." Jean-Paul sighed exasperatedly. "Hank says we will know what gender in a few weeks."


"Bobby! I was just going to call."

"Hey Mom…"

"You haven't called in a week! What if something happened?"

"Um…"

"How's Jean-Paul? Is that how you say it?"

"Yeah, Mom, and he's fine. He uh, had his first ultrasound yesterday. It's a little late, yeah, but um… Hank –um, remember Hank? He told Jean-Paul there are twins."

"Twins?" Madeline Drake practically shrieked, overjoyed. "Is he there? Can I speak with him?"

"Mom, um… are you sure that's…"

"If he's there, give him the phone, Bobby. I have to tell him about some pregnancy-related issues. You wouldn't understand."

"Okay, okay. Just a moment." Bobby put the phone to his chest to block the mic and walked into the Recreation Room. Several of the X-Men were lounging inside, watching television and chatting. Jean-Paul was sitting right in the middle of it all, holding the remote to keep anyone from changing the channel from Sixteen and Pregnant, which he watched with a strange mixture of anguish and obsession.

Bobby leaned against the arm of the couch and held the phone out to Jean-Paul. "My mom wants to talk to you." He explained with a slightly pained expression.

The Quebecois raised his eyebrows in surprise but took the phone. "Hello? This is Jean-Paul."

Bobby carefully watched Jean-Paul's face for any emotions. After a moment of listening to whatever Madeline was saying, he smiled a little. "Yes, I know. It was terrible."

What was terrible?

"I was sick for days."

Oh. Yeah. Of course. Duh.

"Oh really?" Jean-Paul grinned.

"What?" Bobby whispered, "What's she saying?"

Jean-Paul glanced at him and smirked slightly, waving a hand at him in a gesture of shush, I'm trying to hear something amusing that your mother is telling me and you probably won't appreciate.

Bobby sat back reluctantly but silently and settled for watching Jean-Paul nervously. By the fifth minute of their conversation, it was evident that his mother and Jean-Paul were getting along like old friends.

It was strange, considering how much she had disliked all of his previous girlfriends… all two of them that he had ever brought home. Thank God she never knew about Mystique. She'd probably have a heart attack. Bobby figured it must've been Jean-Paul's charm. It was really the only plausible explanation…


"Hank, do you disapprove of my current situation?" Bobby wondered. He was sprawled out across on of the examination tables, staring up at the ceiling. He had given up on waiting until his mother finished talking to Jean-Paul, and had wandered over to the lab Hank was working in.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean… Jean-Paul's pregnant. We're not even dating. It was one time. And he's pregnant. Do you think I screwed up?"

Hank didn't even look up from his work, "Bobby, people are impregnated from one-night-stands all the time. It's not up to me to judge you for it. You're surrounded by people who are being very supportive. But it's obvious that you believe you have 'screwed up'."

Bobby sighed, "Yeah, I mean, of course I feel like that… Jean-Paul doesn't really say anything, but you know, who wouldn't be kind of pissed off? I just feel like, I don't know, I have to redeem myself or something. Getting him pregnant was kind of a stupid thing for me to do."

"Have you talked about it?"

"Yes. Well, not in depth. He's okay with it, for the most part. We're all pretty tolerant of strange things. But still. This probably wasn't part of his life plan. I feel guilty."

"Then I suggest you do something about it, my friend," Hank said pleasantly.

"Yeah. I should. I will." Bobby fell silent. "Hey Hank?"

"Mm?"

"It's good to have you back."

Jean-Paul remained sitting in the Recreation Room even after everyone else suddenly rushed away after being called for an emergency mission. Outside, the sun was just setting. Jean-Paul got up and headed to the cafeteria.

The hallways were quite deserted except for the occasional mutant refugee on some business in the X-Men building.

He paused as he heard a crash echo through the halls, originating not far from where he stood. Jean-Paul recognized the sound to be that of glass shattering. He hurried down the hall towards the sound only to stop upon hearing unfamiliar voices and whispers.

"Hurry, hurry," someone was ordering, "Someone probably heard us."

Jean-Paul's eyes narrowed and he edged closer to the corner.

There was some snickering and more shhs.

Teenagers. Definitely teenagers.

Jean-Paul stepped around the corner to find several teenagers dressed in black with ski masks on. They were each holding garbage bags, and one was in the midst of taking a bottle of spray paint out of his.

"I do hope you're here to take out the trash for us." Jean-Paul said coldly, crossing his arms.

"This place was supposed to be empty!" One of the teens yelled as another whipped out a gun and pointed it at Jean-Paul. "You said the muties were all out fighting bad guys! You said it was on the news!"

He stared down the barrel of the gun with amusement and slowly unfolded his arms and held the up in surrender.

"Shut up, don't move!"

"You have the weapon," Jean-Paul replied calmly. He looked into the eyes of the person holding the gun.

They were dull, brown, and glazed over.

Stoned.

Jean-Paul sighed internally. "What do you intend to do?" he asked.

"None of your business, mutie," the teen spat. He nodded at the others, "Get going," he ordered.

"Unfortunately for you," Jean-Paul said, "I can't let you damage the building."

Then, before they even knew what was going on, Jean-Paul zipped out of the gun's range, knocked out the leader with a well thrown punch and proceeded to take out the other teens. It was all over in less than a minute.

Jean-Paul came to a stop and cringed, feeling nauseated. He immediately realized why Hank had banned him from training and using his powers.

Rubbing his temple, Jean-Paul pulled out his cellphone and dialed someone to take care of the situation. He tied up all of the teens (six boys and one girl, he discovered when he took off their ski masks) and then continued on his way down the hall.