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The Gym (Brooklyn, New York)
The heavy bag exploded off its chain like it had been hit by a freight train, sand spilling across the polished concrete floor of the Brooklyn gym. Steve Rogers stared at his fist, then at the destroyed equipment, processing what he'd just watched on the wall-mounted TV.
"So... he's the Doctor?" Steve asked, his voice carrying that slight Brooklyn accent he'd never quite shaken despite decades on ice.
Phil Coulson stepped out from behind a support pillar, tablet in hand, his expression carefully neutral. "That's him. Jay. Goes by 'The Doctor' apparently, though our files have a bit more detail."
Steve turned from the wreckage of the punching bag, sweat still beading on his forehead. "Files?"
"SHIELD's been tracking him for months. The homeless population in Manhattan started talking about an 'angel' who could heal anything. Bullet wounds, overdoses, hypothermiaâthings that could've been death sentences for people society forgot." Coulson swiped across his tablet. "Turns out he's been operating in the shadows, helping folks who couldn't afford to ask questions."
"And Fury knew?" Steve grabbed a towel, wiping down his hands with more force than necessary.
"Fury knows everything that matters in this city." Coulson's tone carried just a hint of dry humor. "Though judging by their last interaction, he and Jay don't exactly see eye to eye."
Steve watched the replay footage of Jay kneeling beside the Castle family, his hands glowing with soft healing energy while bullets flew around him. The kid couldn't be older than twenty-five, but he'd run straight into danger to save strangers.
"He helped get me out," Steve said quietly.
Coulson nodded. "Yeah, Fury called him in as a specialist."
Steve stared at the frozen replay on screenâJay worn down but resolute, speaking to reporters with conviction about protecting people regardless of their origin story. It reminded him of something. Someone.
"What do we know about his background?"
"That's... complicated," Coulson said carefully. "No birth records, no social security number, no school transcripts. It's like he didn't exist before two months ago."
Steve's expression sharpened. "How is that possible?"
"That's what we're trying to figure out. Either he's very good at staying off the grid, or..." Coulson hesitated.
"Or?"
"Or someone very powerful has been scrubbing his past clean."
 ooOoo
SHIELD Helicarrier
Nick Fury's forehead vein was doing its best impression of the Hudson River during flood seasonâprominent, angry, and impossible to ignore. Maria Hill maintained her professional composure, but she'd positioned herself just far enough away to avoid collateral damage if her director actually exploded.
"That kid," Fury snarled, jabbing a finger at the wall of monitors showing Jay's television debut from every conceivable angle, "is going to be the death of me. And I'm gonna die before some bullet gets the chance."
"Sir," Hill said carefully, "the public response has been largely positive. Social media sentiment is running sixty-forty in favor, with significant support from the medical community andâ"
"I don't give a damn about social media sentiment, Hill!" Fury's voice could've peeled paint off the bulkheads. "Mutants were supposed to stay quiet. Blend in. Keep their heads down and stay away from the media. Not hold impromptu speeches in Central Park!"
Hill pulled up a holographic display showing trending hashtags and public opinion data. "#TheDoctor is trending worldwide. #MutantHealer has over two million mentions in the last hour. The footage of him healing the Castle family has been viewed seven million times."
"Fantastic," Fury muttered, slumping into his command chair. "Just fantastic. Xavier's gonna have my ass for this. The kid just painted a very visible target on every mutant in America."
"Or," Hill said quietly, "he just showed America that mutants can be heroes too."
Fury shot her a look that could've sunk aircraft carriers. "Maria, optimism is a luxury I can't afford. That kid just declared open season on himself and every enhanced individual in the country. The Friends of Humanity are probably already planning their next rally. Senator Kelly's office has called three times in the last twenty minutes."
"Other agencies are going to start digging into his background," Hill said. "When they find the gaps in his recordsâ"
"We prepare a cover story. Foster kid, bounced between homes, records lost in system failures." Fury's expression darkened. "His alien nature stays classified. Need-to-know basis only."
"And the President's office called to ask if we can arrange a meeting," Hill countered. "Not to mention the dozens of hospitals requesting consultation on cases they can't handle."
Fury was quiet for a long moment, studying Jay's speech about judging people by their actions rather than their origins. The kid had balls; he'd give him that. Stupid, idealistic balls that were going to get him killed.
"Double his security detail," Fury said finally. "Quietly. And get me everything we have on anti-mutant terrorist organizations. He's a key part of my Avenger Initiative."
 ooOoo
Tony's Villa (Malibu)
Tony Stark lounged in his modernist living room like a cat, a tumbler of aged whiskey in one hand while holographic displays showed Jay's media debut from multiple angles. The late afternoon California sun streamed through floor-to-ceiling windows, but Tony's attention was entirely focused on the young healer on screen.
"J.A.R.V.I.S.," Tony said, swirling his drink thoughtfully, "run a full analysis on our new public healer. Medical background, power limitations, public speaking experienceâeverything."
"Certainly, sir. Shall I also compile data on his associates?" came the smooth British voice from hidden speakers.
"Obviously. And cross-reference his methodology with current medical practices." Tony leaned forward, studying Jay's exhausted face as he spoke to reporters. "The kid's got something, J.A.R.V.I.S. That kind of raw healing ability? We're talking about revolutionizing medicine, not just superheroics."
"Indeed, sir. Preliminary analysis suggests his abilities operate on a cellular regeneration level far exceeding any known medical technology."
Tony raised an eyebrow. "Which means?"
"Which means, sir, that he may be the most valuable individual on the planet from a purely humanitarian standpoint."
Tony was quiet for a moment, watching Jay run toward danger while bullets flew around him. "He's also got terrible tactical instincts. Running into active gunfire to save civilians? That's either incredibly brave or incredibly stupid."
"Perhaps both, sir?"
"Yeah, probably both." Tony drained his whiskey and stood up, but instead of dismissing the displays, he expanded them. "J.A.R.V.I.S., I want a full workup on potential applications for healing technology. If this kid can do what I think he can do, we need to be ready to support him."
"Support him, sir? Not recruit him?"
Tony paused, watching the replay of Jay's passionate speech about mutant-human coexistence. "Let's call it 'strategic friendship building.' Besides," Tony's expression grew more serious, "a kid that powerful is going to need all the friends he can get."
 ooOoo
Queens Warehouse
"Look at our boy go!" Bobby's voice boomed through the converted warehouse space, cigar dangling from his lips as he bounced on the balls of his feet like a proud father. "Tellin' those reporters exactly what they needed to hear!"
The team was crowded around Bobby's ancient TV. Maria leaned forward from her spot on the couch, arms crossed but smiling. Linda sat beside her, the diamond on her forehead catching the light as she analyzed Jay's vital signs through the screen out of habit.
"Kid's got backbone," Maria said approvingly. "Look at him, dead on his feet from healing three people and still taking on the press like a champ."
Max looked up from his laptop where he'd been monitoring social media reactions. "He's trending worldwide. #TheDoctor, #MutantHealer, #CentralParkMiracleâthey're all going viral. The responses are actually pretty positive, all things considered."
Tom nodded, his silver-ringed eyes reflecting multiple viewpoints as he processed the situation from different angles. "The way he handled that question about dangerous mutants was brilliant. Turning it back on them about judging people by their actions, not their origins."
"And that girl of his," Bobby added with a knowing grin, "Domino's handling the attention like a pro. Look at her there in the background, calm as anything while chaos explodes around them."
Linda chuckled. "She's good for him."
"Speaking of which," Maria said with a sly smile, "remember when you thought she was too dangerous for our Doc, Bobby?"
Bobby had the grace to look slightly sheepish. "Yeah, well... maybe I was wrong about that. Girl's got his back, that's clear enough."
Max stood up abruptly, heading toward their makeshift kitchen. "This calls for a celebration. I've been working on a new deep-dish recipe, andâ"
"Max," the others said in unison, "it's not even dinner time."
"So?" Max grinned, already pulling ingredients from their improvised pantry. "Our Doc just told the whole world who he is. If that ain't worth pizza at three in the afternoon, I don't know what is."
"Just don't burn it this time," Maria called after him.
"That was one time!" Max protested. "And technically, the oven was broken!"
Their family had just gotten a lot more famous, and a lot more dangerous, but they had his back.
That's what family was for.
 ooOoo
Xavier's Mansion
The recreational room at Xavier's School felt thick with tension. Nearly the entire team was gathered around the large-screen TV, absorbing Jay's public declaration with expressions ranging from hopeful to horrified.
"This could be a turning point," Dr. Hank McCoy said, adjusting his glasses as he analyzed the crowd's reaction. "The public seeing a mutant as a healer rather than a threatâit's exactly the kind of positive representation we've been working toward."
Kurt Wagner nodded enthusiastically, his blue skin and pointed tail making him stand out even among the assembled X-Men. "Ja, he speaks well. With conviction. The people, they listen to him."
Logan grunted from his position leaning against the wall, arms crossed over his chest. "Pretty words don't stop bullets, elf. Kid just painted a target on his back and every other mutant in the country."
Ororo Monroe sat elegantly in one of the leather chairs, her white hair catching the light from the TV screen. "Perhaps. But silence hasn't protected us either, Logan. Maybe it's time for a different approach."
Scott Summers stood behind the couch, his ruby quartz glasses reflecting the screen's glow. "He's not trained for this kind of exposure. The media attention, the security threatsâhe's going to be overwhelmed."
"He handled himself well enough," Jean Grey observed quietly. "His responses were thoughtful, measured. He didn't let them bait him into saying something inflammatory."
But it was Marie D'AncantoâRogueâwho seemed most affected by the broadcast. She sat curled up in the corner of the room, her gloved hands wrapped around her knees as she watched Jay speak with painful intensity.
The camera caught Jay in an unguarded momentâexhausted, vulnerable, but still standing strong. It was exactly how she remembered him, that quiet determination that had drawn her to him in the first place.
When the camera panned to show Domino at Jay's side during the Fantasticar evacuation, Rogue felt something crack inside her chest. The easy familiarity between them, the way Domino settled onto Jay's lap without hesitationâtold a story that cut deeper than she wanted to admit.
"They seem close," Rogue whispered, so quietly that only Kitty heard her.
Kitty Pryde phased partially through the sofa beside her, offering quiet support. "Hey," she whispered, "you okay?"
"Rogue..." Kitty settled more fully into the room, her hand hovering near Rogue's shoulder but not quite touching. "You know maybe if you had made a move..."
"Jay always had this wall around him." Rogue's accent carried all the pain she was trying to hide. "His smile looks natural with her."
On screen, Jay was answering questions about mutant-human coexistence, his voice carrying conviction despite his obvious exhaustion. He looked older somehow, more mature than when Rogue had last seen him.
"Maybe you should call him," Kitty suggested gently. "You know, just to... check in."
Rogue was quiet for a long moment, watching as the Fantastic Four formed a protective circle around Jay and Domino, helping them escape the media swarm.
"Maybe," she said finally.
As the broadcast switched to analysis and commentary, the X-Men began to disperse, each processing the implications of Jay's public reveal in their own way. But Rogue remained in her corner, watching the replays and wondering if she'd lost her chance at something she'd never quite had the courage to reach for.