DC/Marvel: This Guy is Insane

"May I have your name?" Charles began, following standard procedure. His brief, traumatic foray into the man's mind had already told him one thing: this was no ordinary human. Ordinary people don't have mental fortresses. He just needed to understand the nature of Alan's abilities before deciding on a course of action.

"Name's Alan. As for the gender…" He paused, glanced down at his crotch, and added cautiously, "Male, for now. The future is a mystery. Age is probably under nineteen. I grew up in an orphanage, and then at thirteen, I began a five-and-a-half-year research position at Westwood Psychiatric Hospital."

"Research at thirteen? In what field?" This caught Charles's attention, his eyes lighting up with genuine interest. A thirteen-year-old researcher was a prodigy, plain and simple.

Alan looked down, a bashful expression on his face. "I was the subject of the research."

"…" Charles's face instantly darkened. So, he was involved in research, just not in the way he'd implied.

"What are your mutant abilities?" Charles pressed on, guessing it had to be something psychic or mental. Given the man's blatant insanity, he was leaning heavily toward the latter.

"Oh, I don't have any 'abilities.' I'm a Priest. A healer, as the kids say." Alan patted his chest and sighed dramatically. "The malnourished kind, unfortunately."

"Show me." Charles had no hope of getting a clear explanation from a madman. A demonstration was the only way to know for sure.

"Oh, I couldn't possibly. I'm not prepared at all," Alan demurred, looking down with a coy shyness.

"Don't worry," Charles reassured him. "This office is protected by a defensive field. It's not easily damaged." The Headmaster's Office was one of two safe rooms in the entire school, second only to the Cerebro chamber. He was confident he could activate the defenses in an instant if anything went wrong.

"Well, if you insist. Don't mind my manners, then." Alan stood up. He glanced at Charles's full head of medium-length hair, stifled the urge to call him "Professor Baldy," and settled on a compromise. "Professor X, prepare to face my ultimate attack!"

Whoosh…

Alan spread his arms wide, making his own sound effects. Seeing this, Wade immediately scrambled into a corner to avoid any potential collateral damage. Charles's expression grew serious. He could feel a strange energy gathering in the room.

"RAY OF HUMILIATING FAILURE!"

Alan struck a pose like a child eagerly raising his hand in class. A brilliant beam of white light shot from his palm, striking Charles before his finger could even twitch toward the defense system's activation button. But a second later, Charles relaxed. A warm, revitalizing current washed over him, sweeping away the last vestiges of fatigue from his earlier psychic ordeal.

"A healing ability!" His entire demeanor shifted, the suspicion on his face melting away into sheer delight. "That's enough, you can stop now," he said, his voice warm and gentle. A mutant with healing powers was an invaluable asset. The school's X-Men teams were often injured on missions. A dedicated healer would not only boost their combat effectiveness but also drastically reduce the risk of fatalities.

"Alan," Charles said, his voice like a parent coaxing a child, "would you be willing to enroll in the Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters?"

"Nope." Alan tilted his head, rejecting the offer with a look of pure disinterest. He had never been one to accept charity. If he wanted something, he took it himself.

Nope!? Then what in the world are you even doing here? Charles's smile froze on his face. He was completely at a loss, unable to comprehend the man's thought process. But while Charles was baffled, someone else in the room understood perfectly. It takes a madman, after all, to know a madman.

Wade sauntered over to Charles's side, a mischievous glint in his eyes. He leaned in and whispered a few words into the Professor's ear. A look of sudden realization dawned on Charles's face.

"Alan," Charles said, adjusting his posture and leaning back in his chair with an air of renewed confidence, "if you don't enroll, I'm afraid you won't be able to stay at the school. And that means you won't get to see Magik anymore."

"Hah! You dare threaten me with my little Illyana?" Alan jabbed a thumb at his own chest with a swagger. "Go on, ask anyone on the street. They'll tell you Alan is a glutton for punishment!"

Thump.

He dropped to his knees without a second's hesitation. One moment, he was the pinnacle of defiant bravado; the next, he was the picture of groveling submission. The transition was flawlessly smooth. "Professor X! It's been my lifelong dream to attend a school like this, to learn and study like a normal kid, so that one day I can get into a good college and make the world a better place!" Alan proclaimed, tears of gratitude streaming down his face. "Thank you for this precious opportunity! I love to learn! I adore books! Reading makes me happy! Knowledge is bliss! As the old saying goes: to be a winner, you've got to eat a chicken dinner! To get rich quick, you have to do the trick! To be the man, you have to have a plan—"

"That's enough," Charles cut in, a vein throbbing in his temple. The man's rhyming drivel was endless. If he didn't stop him, he felt Alan could go on forever. At least it proved one thing: Alan wasn't an idiot, just completely unhinged.

Well, Charles thought with a sigh, we already have one madman on campus. What's one more? His gaze drifted to Wade, who looked back quizzically. "What are you looking at me for? I'm not a student here."

"Could you please help him with the enrollment paperwork and get him settled into a dorm?" Charles asked, deftly changing the subject.

"Let's go, little lunatic," Wade said, clapping a hand on Alan's shoulder.

"Right behind you, big psycho," Alan chirped back.

The two resident geniuses walked out of the headmaster's office.

"You know," Wade said with a tone of genuine admiration, "I'm starting to see your appeal."

"Really?" Alan twisted around, trying to look at his own back. "Is something glowing back there? I don't see anything."

"I absolutely have to find a way to kill you," Wade said with grim determination. "Otherwise, you're going to steal all my popularity."

"Correction," Alan said with a dead-serious expression. "This is a novel. You can't kill the protagonist."

The enrollment process was simple enough. They went to the Vice Principal's office, where Alan was given a form to fill out and assigned a dorm room. The choice of classes was entirely up to the student, a core principle of Professor X's educational philosophy. But as Alan stared at the form, he didn't write a single word.

"What's wrong?" asked the Vice Principal, Henry "Hank" McCoy, also known as Beast. He looked at the hesitant young man with concern. "Is there a problem?"

"I'm trying to decide on my superhero name," Alan announced with grave importance. "It's a very big decision. Do I go with something cool and mysterious, like 'The Shadow Healer'? Or something more direct, like 'Captain Band-Aid'?"

"…" Hank, one of the most intelligent minds on the planet, simply handed Alan a pen and pointed to the lines for his name and personal information.

Assigning him a dorm, however, turned into another problem. Respect for the students' comfort and wishes was paramount at the school. Hank had to ask around to see if anyone would be willing to accept a new roommate. The moment he mentioned the new student was, to put it mildly, eccentric, every single student declined.

"As if I'd want to live with a bunch of boring side characters anyway," Alan scoffed.

"Hey, why don't you come to our dorm?" Wade suggested, slinging an arm around Alan's shoulders. "It's where all the A-list heroes hang out. I feel like my own status drops just by being in the same hallway as these guys with no screen time."

"I wholeheartedly agree," Alan nodded. "While some might accuse us of leeching off each other's fame, the truth is, we bring our own popularity to the table."

Beast watched the two of them, arm in arm, and wisely chose not to interfere. Anyone who could get along with Deadpool was destined to be an outcast anyway.

Birds of a feather flock together, he mused. Maybe putting them in the same room is for the best.

(End of Chapter)

***

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