It was never easy; being an only child. But when he'd wished for siblings, he hadn't expected the results. To begin with, there was his mutation. Jamie could go from one to ten faster than most people could blink -Pietro and Jean-Paul didn't count. It was alright most days, and for most things. He could eat ten times his favorite meals, simply by multiplying himself (although if he absorbed them right away, he was guaranteed a stomach ache) or study for five different classes at one time (though that tended to give him a head ache) or literally be in two places at once (which wasn't so bad, as long as he kept the numbers small). So, all in all, the first wasn't bad. But talking to yourself could get lonely really fast. And there was only so much you could accomplish, when your companion shared your every asset, complete with lousy math skills.
The second result he hadn't expected, came in the form of Xavier's Institute for Gifted Youngsters, and more importantly, it's inhabitants. It hadn't been bad at first. The Professor had started with six students, himself not included, which had grown to fifteen, himself included, then twenty, after Apocalypse was defeated, and on to thirty-four, at current.
The staff, had only grow in extremely short stints it seemed. Originally two, it became three, then jumped to five. The Professor and the sometimes in attendance Magneto, non inclusive, of course.
So, all together, Jamie lived with thirty-nine people. And if you think that's endurable, you ought to be reminded that these thirty-nine, like himself, were also mutants.
Furthermore, even with the mansion's rebuilding, team enrollment dictated shared quarters. And oh - how that could get annoying!
He was lucky, in that he only had one roommate, Davis Cameron a.k.a. Slipstream. As the two youngest members, they got along fairly well. They were both marginally neat, so at the very least, their room was enterable. You could move around, but sudden movements often caused a downpour of some random item or another. So, they didn't have guests often. Still, it was no war zone here, not like the second room to the far left of the wing. Warren, Jean-Paul and Remy either didn't take to one another well, or were really good friends and it just wasn't noticeable right off. If someone wasn't shouting, something exploding, or something hitting a wall, than you knew well enough to stay away from them. Bickering was normal. Pleasantries were a sign of impending battles, and if you were smart, you avoided them as a unit like the plague.
Sam, Bobby and Ray had the room across the hall. And if the Professor didn't know how bad an idea it was to put the first two together, Jamie sure wasn't going to be the one to explain it to him. He and Davis had to live between them and Doug, Calvin and Roberto. Things were usually quiet on their side of the wall, however. If they weren't sleeping in it, they weren't there. Jamie didn't know if they got along or not. They didn't speak to one another, so there was no way to try and listen for it. But, there remained a sort of civility between them, so they must have conversed a handful of times a the very least. Across the hall from his own room, were Shiro, Neil and Jono. What they were thinking when they set the international scales abounding in that room, Jamie really didn't want to know. They were quiet in their dislikes for one another though, and had the misfortune of being between two notoriously loud rooms. For on their other side, was Kurt, Evan and Forge. And when Forge wasn't inventing something they'd all rather not be a part of, spikes would jut through the door at random intervals, and no one but the room's inhabits knew why - they weren't telling either. In the last room in the male wing, and the only one with a door that was only a few steps from the elevator, were Scott, Alex, and Piotr. Jamie hadn't thought it wise to stick two brothers in the same room, and initially, he'd been right. Scott was a neat freak to the near point of obsession, and Alex was the laid back, toss it anywhere kind of tidy deficient. They'd fought horribly, until Piotr had been roomed with them, and whether it was to save face or otherwise, there was no more fighting occurring in the room itself.
Twenty teenage boys in one wing was enough to drive even Wolverine to the breaking point. So, generally, when he was patrolling the halls, they were right as rain.
The girls had it easier, seven rooms between the fourteen of them. Which, would generally lead one to believe two to a room would be the norm. But, while most of the girls were two to a room, Jean mysteriously maintained her own, while Rogue, Kitty and Danielle braved the life of three in one. They alone seemed to understand the bickering amongst the boys, even if they themselves rarely fought.
So, twenty in one wing, fourteen in it's twin, and the Professor and the senior members of the household took up residence in their own rooms, up above. Full house? Not hardly. They all knew there was an ever constant threat of more students being accepted, and so kept as quiet about it as possible. However, there were large bathrooms to be shared, which was a concept they seemed to despise unanimously, and only so many could fit. Mornings were a lot more pomp and circumstance than evenings. And it was not unusual to find a girl in the boy's wing bathroom. Usually, it was Rogue or Tabitha. Though Jamie had run into Amara once. Scott and Piotr were the most upset about the occurrences, when they happened. Most of the male wing didn't look twice at a female body trotting through the herd. That's not to say however, that they didn't take an abnormally long first look.
Jean-Paul was the only one to keep walking. Jamie wondered about that sometimes.
While Jamie didn't feel necessarily out of the loop when it came to being a card carrying member of the y chromosome, he was sure, he was by no means fit to stand tall with his mutant peers. Where they were a menagerie of talent and skill, charming, eloquent, attractive...He was your average vagabond, common, plain, and by no means an academic scholar. He had nothing to offer but his innocence, and really, who wanted that?
"Jamie, HEAD'S UP!!"
Snapping out of a profound daydream, he had just enough time to see the football before it hit him in the chest, knocking him over, and four multiples out. As they helped him up, he sighing the whole time, Davis ran over and collected the ball.
"Are you alright?"
"Yea..." he replied, absorbing his multiples and brushing at his jeans.
"I don't think Illyana saw," he whispered, and Jamie, moving slowly in abstract horror, leaned to one side to peer at the girl, across the lawn. He sighed, as he saw her laughing, face and body angled toward Paige. She hadn't. "What're you doing just standing over here anyway?"
Jamie had the grace to blush. "Just...you know...looking."
Davis smiled, and hit him in the shoulder with the football. "Well, take a closer look, mate! I'm sure Pete won't mind."
Jamie rolled his eyes. "Ha. Ha."
"Well, look at it this way," replied Davis, tossing the football between his hands. "He knows you, he can keep an eye on you - we'll let him think that - and if he needs to beat you to a pulp, you're just down the hall."
Jamie scowled as Davis smiled.
"Davis!" shouted Alex.
"Any time now, man!" called Evan.
"Yea, I'm coming!" he called over his shoulder. "Hey, Jamie, why don't you play with us?" He bounced the ball off the brunette's chest, and Jamie had to hold his breath to keep the multiple in. "Relieve a little post flatten depression."
"No thanks."
"You sure?"
He nodded. "Yea, I think I'm just going to go study or something."
Davis' nose wrinkled as he pulled a face. "Jamie, you're starting to sound like Shiro. Even Scott doesn't advocate studying as much as you do now a days. Come on, a few runs won't hurt you."
"Davis!!"
"Yea!"
"Come on, Jamie...Come on..."
He sighed. "Alright..." After all, what harm could it do?
"Jamie can you breathe?"
"Jesus, Bobby! You didn't have to freeze half his face!"
"Well, I didn't see you doing anything to help!"
"Shut up, both of you!"
"Jamie, Jamie, can you breathe?"
Jamie nodded, and wished he hadn't, because his head swam. Warren was a distorted blur, which really wasn't a bad look for him; made him more celestial actually, with his head and wings blocking out the sun, glowing like some descended god - damn him. He pulled Jamie up into a sitting position, and the younger boy's head dropped forward.
"Should you be sitting him up? What if it's a concussion."
"He didn't even get hit, Alex. His multiple did."
"Well, I thought it was clear, his multiples and he share a physical congruent."
"And in English, that would mean....?"
Jamie groaned. They were all talking at the same time, and it was making his head hurt. "No, worries, Jamie," came Davis' cheerful voice. "A quick trip to the Infirmary, and-" The group laughed, as Jamie peddled backward out of his roommate's grasp, tumbling into Roberto's shins.
"I think that's a no thank you, Davis!"
Jamie blanched, as they laughed some more, but then two hands were on his shoulders, strong hands that lifted him to his feet. "Leave him alone, guys," said Warren, and his voice sounded far away. That's when Jamie realized he didn't feel the ground below his feet, but it mattered little, because everything went dark after.
He'd managed to break his nose - well, his multiple had managed to break his nose, and it was truly a most unpleasant sensation. He'd have it out with himself, if he didn't know that splitting himself would take half the pain killers away. Sighing, he trudged down toward his bedroom, humiliated enough for the day, and in pain besides.
At first, he was sure he was imagining the sounds floating down the hall, but as he turned to open his bedroom door, he noticed a slightly open door, and decided to look into it. He was careful not to let the door creak, as he pushed it slowly open. Mindful of his breathing, and whose room he was invading, he leaned in around the door, and nearly fell over in shock.
Jean-Paul had Alex pushed up against a dresser. The blonde's shirt was spread open, and his head tilted back, as the older boy did something to the juncture of his shoulder that made him gasp, and buck his hips, the wooden drawers rattling slightly. His fingers were tangled in the Canadian's hair, and he bit his bottom lip, tugging the silken strands. Jamie would have wondered why Jean-Paul didn't have a sharp remark for so heinous an offense, if he hadn't noticed that Alex's knees were just about the only part of his lower body Jamie could really see.
Everything else seemed to disappear, as he watched Alex writhe - and that wood had to be digging into his back something awful - beneath Jean-Paul. Jean-Paul's arm seemed to be working at something, the way his elbow was sliding back and forth hypnotically, and it wasn't until his body began to rock along with it, that Jamie realized just what. He gasped and bit his lip, trying to back out of the door, but he couldn't take his eyes off them.
Luckily, they didn't seem to notice.
Alex was cursing at the ceiling, voice heavy and thick with something that made Jamie's...something...quiver. He was doing a good job at keeping the noise to a covert level, yet it pounded in Jamie's ears, as if his very heart needed to be swallowed down, to keep himself from...something....
He was trembling more than Alex, by the time the other shouted out, hands gripping Jean-Paul's shoulders tightly. And he bit into one, as his body jerked and twisted. Jean-Paul didn't seem to mind. Jamie wasn't sure just what he did, but Alex moaned, and Jean-Paul melted into him, merging them both with the hard furniture.
He backed out, afraid they'd discover him, and tripped, as he turned and darted into his room. His door all but slammed, as it connected with the frame, and he pressed back against it, panting hard. Not a few moments later, he heard Warren's voice say calmly, "Oh, hello, Alex." And the bedroom door closed.
Oh God, what should he do?! He'd come across two of his teammates...doing...being...having...!!! He flushed, and squeezed his eyes shut. He couldn't even think about it! And- Oh no! Warren didn't know! He'd walked in after, and- But should he tell him? Would it be right? It was his room after all, but then, it was Jean-Paul's and Remy's too. He gasped and covered his mouth quickly. Should he tell Remy?! Would they even believe him?! He was thrown forward as his bedroom door opened, and terrified he'd been caught, froze to the spot. Davis wedged in, looking at him curiously.
"Jamie....? All right there, mate?" he asked, waving a hand in front of his face.
Feeling relieved to the point of sickness, he turned and raced for the bathroom, eyes widening in shock when he collided with Remy. The Cajun looked down concerned, but he only turned and hurried off. If he could just make it to the bathroom! He could hide in there!