Title: Noble As I Declare Myself

WARNING: RECKLESSNESS, EXPLICITNESS!

The fan fiction writer's poem
Maybe, there's a world where we don't have to run from
Tribune Entertainment
Maybe, because the characters of Mutant X are not my own
Writing slash for free, in harmony, in majesty
Not my own, the characters are not my own

Notes: Fragment, therefore not beta-ed.

Noble As I Declare Myself
by Electra Complex

It must have been a little too rough for him. It must have. Armed with some sterile cooling ointment and the healing accelerator, I head for Jesse's room.

Asked for the greatest invention - left aside the governor and the stasis pod - that has ever sprung from my gifted mind, the public might say it's the sequencer. Actually, it's the healing accelerator.
It already helped so many people and yet, for it, never will I receive my two lines in the Encyclopedia Britannica. In fact, when I created it, I had no idea how much I would make use of it.

Jesse may have come from a loveless family, but his father has been one of the brightest minds in the Genomex surroundings. I knew Noah personally. Jesse's smart, smarter than me, he is a perfect organization talent, which allows me to fly the heights of my medical skillfulness without bring disturbed; and he has some real style I could never buy despite all the money I amassed.

His only weak point is Noah, and that's my point of attack. Yeah, Brennan has been much more in trouble, but Brennan is hard to kill. I could have gone for Brennan instead, but I did not want to. A leatherjacket, a commendation, a car. Brennan is so easy to satisfy. If Brennan only awoke, if he insurrected, he could beat the shit out of me until there is no more left. But this won't happen, because Brennan is stupid.

It's a bit hard to be lover and father at the same time.

Reaching the door, I think about Jesse and it goes through my mind how burning-hot his entrance was when I reached for him with my fingertips. He has not come for breakfast this morning, although I prepared it with the same devotion I always do.

The door has a security override programmed to the chief of the Sanctuary, but I knock.

"Jesse".

No answer.

The smooth rod of the healing accelerator glows in my hand. For obvious reasons, I can't treat him in the lab, so I will stretch him out on his bed, caress his boy butt and let him make friends with his new friend the friendly healing accelerator. I am not a cruel man.

Presumably he has cried, so I'll take a blanket and pull it over the length of his body while the end of the accelerator is sticking out of him. I've been a doctor for quite a long time. Most people don't like to be taken temperature - the accelerator is a good deal bigger than an average thermometer - and they find it most unpleasant is if you accidentally nudge against it.

That's why I do my best to pull up the blanket all over his body up to his shoulders as slowly as I only can.

Poor Jesse. Keeps running my Sanctuary all alone just to get respect. Even prepared himself for me. He's really a good boy. I know myself that this is no excuse but I think if he hadn't this wouldn't have happened. If there's one thing that I adore more than prying apart my kids' hips by burying myself as deeply as I can, it's treating and teaching and taking care of. When I am deeply in a rush the only thing to make me sober up is the thought that I actually might hurt them. I remember my first night, balancing a sausage of gel on my middle finger, resting my other hand on the spot between Jesse's shoulder blades, pushing him down gently, assuring him again and again that This Is Not Dangerous until his shoulders gave in to my tenderly but constantly pushing hand. All nights for the except for the last one began with a long and complicated preparation ritual, which I cherished as much as I cherish the ferocity of the act. I do care. If you don't believe me consider all the good I've done to you since you have been sheltered here in the Sanctuary. His silent readiness signalized me a acquiescence which, at least like *that*, wasn't there. He must have believed the long time it usually took me to get him ready left me annoyed. Jesse doesn't like to be the source of trouble. He thinks people love you most if you function silently. This is wrong. If he had only whined or shivered in my arms, expressing me in some way that he was afraid of pain, don't you think I would have run to get him some relief? I would have plundered my medical cabinet for him. Back from my lab, I would have filled him with more Jell-O than he can probably eat. If he can't hold it, the better. It would have assured me that what I am doing is right.

But if I am really so noble, you may ask, why haven't I shown consideration for Jesse?

Well, I can't tell you why, but the point is that I haven't, and that's why I am standing here, knocking at Jesse Kilmartin's door, holding a sterile ointment and a healing accelerator in my hand.

end