Jason Winter (_poprocks) wrote in commandhq, @ 2018-05-05 23:46:00 |
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Entry tags: | jason winter, michael winter, p: lindsey, p: mena |
Who: Mike & Jason Winter
What: Another brotherly catch up - they do have a lot to talk about, after all
When: April 29th, early afternoon
Where: The Leisure rooms
Rating: PG
After their last round of beer and air-hockey - where Jason had thoroughly had his ass handed to him - the youngest Winter had spent a large portion of his time in the leisure area, trying to con anyone into playing any one of the two-player games with him so he could get better. He’d managed to play a few rounds of air-hockey with Aidan before Aidan had managed to convince him (and it didn’t take much) that a few pranks would be a better use of their time.
But here he was again, three or four beers down and he’d lost the third straight game against Mike in a row. At least this time the score had been 7-10, rather than the previous - miserable - 3-10. He had no idea how the guy kept his eye on the counter when it moved so quickly and it didn’t help much that his brain told his hand to move one way and he moved in the other, instead.
Finishing what was left of his beer, Jason chuckled and pushed his hand through his hair. “I think I gotta admit defeat - again.” He didn’t mind too much; Mike wasn’t an obnoxious winner and after having spent so long apart Jason was kind of just living for being able to spend this kind of time with his brother.
Ten years was a long time, but he was really glad that Mike was still… Mike. He knew he was probably different, but that was something that was to be expected, right? After all, he had been in a youth facility and then in the Regiment but he hoped he wasn’t that different. Ugh. Braining.
“I swear,” he said finally, “If I didn’t suspect that they tested you guys to make sure, I’d think you had some kind of enhanced… thing,” he waved a hand, “to make you so good at games like this.”
---
Mike was already on his fifth beer and not feeling it – beyond a very, very small uptick in his already rather exuberant positivity. The winning helped, but fortunately for Jason, Mike wasn’t a sore winner or loser. With every success, he merely grinned wide, clapped his hands together, and smiled broadly across the table. He wouldn’t have cared if Jason had won any of the games – it was just worth it to get to spend time with him again.
“Sometimes the only thing you can do is just walk away and accept the defeat,” Mike nodded. “Spare yourself the embarrassment, and so on.” Although they hardly had an audience – after a while, anyone in the leisure room seemed to be pointedly avoiding their little game corner of the room.
He put the paddle down and leaned against the table while he polished off the fifth beer. Mike narrowed his eyes and straightened up, opening his arms and nearly shrugging in disbelief. “What kind of enhancement drugs would make me good at table-top games, Jay? No, no; it’s just years of experience, natural talent, and you not being very good at holding your liquor, apparently.”
---
“It’s got nothing to do with me not being able to hold my drink,” Jason grumbled, “besides, I didn’t get to spend four years at college building up my tolerance to this stuff.” He eyed the empty bottles that were perched on a nearby table, a small collection that would probably only get bigger the longer they hung out and boisterously challenged each other in their own corner of the leisure room. “I’m not even sure if I can get drunk? I mean, my powers use up my energy, right? So I’m always hungry.”
He met Mike’s eyes and grinned, thinking about family cook-outs and how much the grocery bill would have been if he’d stayed home. “Mom would-”
He frowned a little, smile fading at the corner and he shrugged his shoulder, waving a hand. “Never mind. Besides, if I knew what kind of drug you were on, I’d be restricting your access so that you couldn’t cheat when we played. If someone invented that limiter thing that sits right in my brain and can make me think I’m freezing, someone can invent that drug from whatever that movie was, the really shitty one with the guy who accessed all his brain… Limitless?”
Hand waving again with a “whatever it was called, it was a crap movie,” he bent to pick up the puck from where it had fallen nudging the table more than a little bit as he did. A beer bottle that was on the air-hockey table on Mike’s side wobbled precariously, then started to tip. As it began to fall, Jason reacted instinctively and threw a hand out, freezing it in mid air.
“See, I could have been cheating the whole time,” he offered, trying to brush off the sullen thoughts of their parents.
---
I’m not even sure if I can get drunk?
Mike raised his eyebrows. The big brother and the engineer in him wanted to test that hypothesis – but plying his little brother, and an agent, with loads of hard liquor was about the least mature thing he could have presumed to do in that moment. He chuckled about the eating comment, shook his head, and pointed in Jason’s direction. “That explains a lot.” Not that Mike could talk; it was for very different reasons, but Mike had grown up with a bottomless pit for a stomach.
He noticed how Jason’s face fell when the younger Winter mentioned their mom. Whatever the end to that sentence was, Mike knew it didn’t have a happy finish.
Their parents, their family—all of it was a sore subject. What their mom did, or didn’t do, would never truly be a concern of Jason’s, unless by some small miracle she did a complete one-eighty and realized the hole she’d left in her life by essentially disowning her youngest.
With Jason trying to pick the mood back up, and a slightly buzzed Mike all too happy to join in the effort, Mike scoffed and waved his hand dismissively. “That movie was utter garbage. Don’t take pointers from movies like that, Jay. We can do better.”
When he began to notice the beer bottle starting to topple, Mike—without lightning fast reflexes—had no hope of catching it if it fell. Fortunately, Jason was a little more on the ball; stopping it from tipping and spilling.
After a moment, Mike smiled. “But that would be unsportsmanlike, and you were always a fair player,” he reminded him. Mike then picked the bottle up and held it up in a cheers salute.
“You know… if you wanted to talk about them, we can.”
---
“About who?” Jason asked, kind of already knowing what the answer was. If he wanted to talk about their parents. Their other siblings. The possibility of knowing what he had missed over the last ten years or so, hearing gossip and kind of getting caught up.
It was tempting. But he was also worried; what if he was right in his assumption that they wanted nothing to do with him. Mike, he thought, was the exception. Even then sometimes he thought it was too good to be true.
“Mom and dad? Yeah…” he rubbed the back of his neck and looked away. “I’m good, I mean, I’m guessing nothing’s changed. And it won’t make me feel better, right? I mean, to have my assumptions validated and shit?”
He cleared his throat. “But they’re well, right? I mean, everyone’s okay?”
—-
Mike picked up the beer and walked around the table until he was standing next to Jason. He leaned back against the air hockey table casually, but kept his head bowed down, and he listened intently. He didn’t push. Didn’t interrupt. He let Jason get out what he needed to, at the moment, until he was sure that his brother was done.
“I don’t know, man; I never really thought the whole ignorance is bliss thing is true. Sometimes it is better to know. How else do you move forward?”
He placed a hand on Jason’s shoulder and patted it. “Everyone’s good. Everyone is okay. Living their lives. I haven’t been back to Florida in a while and although I miss the place, I must admit I’m becoming a lot fonder of the people out here. And it’s especially nice to have you back around, even with the situation as it is.”
Washington was becoming a much better place than the Everglades had ever really been, at least in terms of working for Regiment. He’d been reunited with his brother, he had an exceptional partnership with Hazel, and the one thing he might have missed most about Underworld had actually followed him across the country to Limbo.
“But if you ever want to write them a letter or anything, I’ll be sure it gets to them. Trying to open the lines of communication—you never know what could happen.”
---
“I dunno, kinda never figured I’d know- if I got released eventually I kinda just figured that none of you would ever want anything to do with me. I mean- I know you were at college but I heard mom and dad in the hospital…” Jason swallowed, wishing he hadn’t finished his own beer, so he just twisted the air-hockey striker in his hands.
He reached up and squeezed Mike’s wrist, offering his brother a grateful smile. “I’ll think about it, bro. But- I- do you think they’d wanna hear from me?”
He cleared his throat, “And this place is better than Inferno, too. I mean, you’re here, Scott’s here, hell even Aidan’s here and so I got friends, I got my brother. It could be worse.”
Jason scratched the back of his head and reached over to open another beer from the collection they had. “So, did you read my file yet?” If their positions had been reversed, Jason would have read Mike’s file within minutes.
---
Mike furrowed his brow. He understood why Jason felt that way – their parents feelings hadn’t exactly been hidden before Jason had turned out to be a Super, let alone what their reactions must have been upon discovery – but it still broke his heart to hear it from his younger brother’s own mouth.
“I can’t guarantee either way,” he replied, regretfully. “But it couldn’t hurt, right? Especially Mom?” Their mother hadn’t always been so conservative, after all; and if there was anyone else in the Winter house who would miss Jason as much as Mike had, he believed it was their mom.
He smiled warmly. At least Jason was able to see the positives, the silver lining. “And,” Mike added, “You’re no longer underground, so that’s a significant bonus, too. But I agree, I am the main draw here—lucky you!”
He clapped Jason on the back and laughed warmly and deeply.
“The thought occurred to me,” he admitted. “To read it. But it’s not very cool to read the file of another Handler’s agent. Why?” He feigned sudden alarm. “Is there something I should read? What kind of shit were you getting up to in Inferno, huh?” He playfully shoved his brother’s shoulder. “Come on, fess up.”
---
Jason nodded, “Yeah- I- I’ll think about it.” And he would. He’d spend ages later ruminating on what he could say to their mom if he wrote her a letter. How he’d tell everyone that he wouldn’t care if she read it and cried, or if she burned it and ripped it to pieces. How he wouldn’t somehow pin a small part of his hopes to the wall and just wait for some kind of communication back from his mom - who he’d always adored (but not as much as he’d adored Mike who had always been his favourite person in the world). But he knew he would. He knew he’d be crushed if she decided she wouldn’t want to see him if he ever got out.
He snorted, letting the conversation move on to lighter subjects. “Being not-underground is definitely my favourite part of being here.”
“Man, if I’d been in your shoes I’d have read your file the moment I could get my hands on it,” Jason answered honestly, with a grin, leaning to the side a little with the gentle shove. He shrugged, leaning back beside his brother and nudging him in return. “Just figured you’d be curious, is all. You’d wanna know how much of a badass your baby brother proved to be in the field and all that.”
He was a capable agent; he’d done a lot of good with powers that had terrified him in the beginning. His hand came to fiddle with the nullifier that he still wore around his wrist. It was inactive; he didn’t really need it anymore but having it on was a comfort to him. His powers were destructive, remarkably so, and if he lost control he could blow up a wall here pretty easily. He could cause more devastation than he would want to.
“Plus you never really asked what I could do save for blowing shit up, I dunno, you always were pretty nosey. Didn’t think that’d change all that much.”
---
“I admire your honesty,” he chuckled. He wasn’t surprised that Jason would have gotten his hands on his own file—should he have had one and their roles had been reversed—and after this conversation, Mike was more or less convinced that’s exactly what he would do, too. Might as well, right?
Mike scoffed and rolled his eyes. “A badass,” he echoed indignantly. “Let’s not get too carried away.”
And while Jason had always been confident, he had never been needlessly cocky or arrogant. If he was expressing that he’d had success as a field agent, Mike was inclined to believe him. It just didn’t mean he couldn’t give him a tough time while they were at it.
He thought for a few moments and scratched at the scruff underneath his chin. “I’m not nosey, excuse me. I’m curious. There’s a big difference.” Or a very subtle difference, but a difference all the same. “Look, we’ve just kind of been getting back to being in each other’s lives. I didn’t want to grill you. I figured the stuff you needed to tell me… you’d tell me in your own time.”
After a second he cleared his throat and pushed off from the table so he could pluck another beer from their collection. “But since you brought it up, yeah I wanna know what else you can do!”
---
Jason grinned. “You’re right, badass probably isn’t… awesome enough.” He had been a good field agent, he respected the handler that he’d had in Texas, who had worked with him and built up his confidence and control in his powers until Jason was pretty much in absolute control of what did and didn’t blow up and when. It was just when he was taken by surprise that it slipped but that was to be expected; most supers had powers that were at least a little bit linked to their emotions.
He rolled his eyes and lifted a shoulder. “I’ve been on more than a few missions,” he said, this time sounding less confident and more sort of awkward, like talking about achievements that were power related were different to boasting about a well-earned basketball or hockey win. “And- uh- I dunno what counts as stuff I need to tell you versus what I wanna tell you, y’know? Plus I kinda assumed you woulda interrogated Scott. He was my handler in Texas. Taught me to control my powers and stuff.”
He rubbed the back of his neck and pushed out a breath, reaching into his pocket for some change that he’d found lying around and claimed as his own. “So you kinda saw one of them earlier, when I stopped the beer. I mean, hang on.”
He stepped away from Mike and threw the change in the air. As it started falling, he flicked his left hand outwards, fingers stretched towards the change and it just stopped in mid air, frozen in place. He turned to look at his brother and smiled a little, almost sheepish, as if he were worried about what Mike would think.
“They call it molecular immobilisation?” he said, “Though I just kinda call it freezing.”
---
Mike slapped his hand over his face. “No, no—stop,” he groaned. “The ego, it’s just—,” he let out a low whistle. “How do you get that head through the door?”
His easy grin and jovial tone mellowed when he noted the change in Jason’s demeanor; from feigned arrogance to something a little more awkward and sheepish. He nodded, unsurprised that Jason had been in the field more than his fair share. But with what had recently happened to Will’s kid – well, that made him bristle in a way that it might not have a few months ago. “Frankly, you don’t go around interrogating your superiors, no matter how curious you are. Besides, like I said, if there was something important… I guess I assumed you’d tell me. But since it’s been so long, maybe I shouldn’t have assumed that. And hey,” he added, trying to lighten the tone again, “If you want me to start getting intrusive, I most certainly can do that.”
For a moment, his lips tightened, and he sighed. “I am glad though. That Scott was there. That he helped you out.”
With a power demonstration on the horizon, Mike settled comfortably against the table with the beer in his hand, but his attention was focused. He’d had many Supers come through his care who needed to do something very similar to this – albeit in a more professional manner, not typically with beers.
Mike watched as the change tossed into the air started to descend and was caught mid-way and stuck in the air. His expression turned into a grin that spread from ear-to-ear as he stepped closer to investigate.
“Freezing,” he nodded. “Sounds like a more straightforward name, if you ask me.” Mike reached out towards one of the coins, intending to poke it. “That has to be incredibly useful. About to get punched, dropping your beer, awkward flirting that you just need to run away from…”
---
Jason ignored the fact that even though Mike might not have meant it as a guilt trip it felt like one: Besides, like I said, if there was something important… I guess I assumed you’d tell me. But since it’s been so long, maybe I shouldn’t have assumed that.. He just shifted on the spot a little, the only outward sign that the conversation had strayed into territory that was genuinely uncomfortable for him. He hadn’t meant it like that but he had gotten used to keeping things to himself.
Besides, did Mike really want to know everything? The history behind the burn scars on Jason’s wrists and up his arms? Or the ones across his back? Probably not. But it would be in his file, he was sure, along with detailed medical reports because that was how this place rolled. They put you in the field because you were useful and eager to prove yourself as worthy of something to someone and patched you up when you fell but made you do it all over again.
Demonstration underway, Jason smiled a little watching Mike approach the frozen coins. As it got poked, it just moved a fraction but didn’t fall, just turned in mid-air with the touch. He chuckled, eyes watching it before he waved his hand and they unfroze, falling to the floor and bouncing all over the place, rolling under machines and wobbling to a halt a little way away from them.
“Mostly useful when I’m about to get shot,” he pointed out, “comes in really handy for bullet-timing stuff that’s flying at my face.” He wet his lower lip, “It’s neat though, I mean, I haven’t used it on many people, kinda weirds me out that I’m just- freezing them. On like, a level of their molecules or some shit. They tested it once in the youth facility. That was weird.”
He might have been nearly thirty, but the look of delight on his face from the fact that Mike was interested in his powers - that his big brother was interested - was plastered all over his expression. Even a blind person would have been able to see just how much it meant to Jason.
---
Mike may not have been the most sensitive guy in the world, but he was fairly astute when it came to social cues – and Jason’s discomfort was something he picked up on, even with just the faintest gesture.
Placing his hand on Jason’s shoulder, he gave it a squeeze and offered his brother a genuine, kind smile. “I’m sorry if that made it seem like I wasn’t interested or concerned. I am. But I want you to know you can tell me anything – everything. I know this…,” he lifted his hand from Jason’s shoulder to gesture around the room, indicating the building, the institution, and all that came with it, “Is something we still must figure out. I care about my job. But you’re my brother. That matters more.”
The demonstration of Jason’s freezing ability was quite extraordinary, and Mike was enthralled by the coins moving by his touch, but not falling. When Jason finally let them go, Mike laughed warmly and loudly as the coins clattered on the floor.
He winced when Jason mentioned just why the ability was so useful – his brother getting shot at was something that made his skin crawl and, perhaps not inexplicably, his blood boil – but he tried to maintain a neutral mask. “Yeah, that’s probably something you only want to do with express permission,” Mike agreed. Especially if, not under properly controlled conditions, Jason’s opposite power ended up taking the reins…
Mike hopped up onto the pool table (it shifted immediately under his weight) and grinned. “So! Molecular Immobilization and Molecular Acceleration. Curious, scientific, and highly intelligent minds – that’s me, by the way – want to know what else you’re capable of.”
---
Jason didn’t comment, again, but he felt the stirring of a warm fuzzy that made his lips curl up a little in the corner. He honestly hadn’t thought he’d hear that again. The novelty hadn’t worn off, yet. Though he wasn’t sure it would; before his powers had manifested he’d taken his family for granted. He’d taken a lot for granted, actually, and a culture shock, a change to everything he’d known and in some ways Jason had matured immensely. In other ways he’d totally regressed (his pranks, for instance, were just as childish as ever).
“Yeah, plus I’m always worried I’d not be able to unfreeze someone. That’d be messed up.” He wrinkled his nose a little and rubbed the back of his head, fingers scratching through his hair as he looked at the last of the wobbling coins as it fell over.
The pool table shifted a little and Jason bit the inside of his lip to avoid making a joke about that, instead focusing on Mike’s other question. “Uh, some plasma thing,” he added, holding his hand out and focusing. The air around them became very, very warm, his hand glowed a bright pale blue, a small ball of what looked like ball lightning - sort of - above his hand, flickers like a plasma ball licking outwards.
“Easier to show you somewhere I can break stuff,” he said, making a fist quickly and shaking his hand against the residual heat that he could feel stinging at his skin. He picked up a beer quickly and even though they weren’t chilled, the cool glass felt good against the overheated skin. He tried to be casual about it, but he probably failed miserably. “We can go to the hologym some time if you wanna see properly. I mean, it’s pretty cool but- I mean it breaks a lot of shit.”
But this, right here, felt like everything to Jason, and if it meant he could get Mike to look at him like this for a little longer, he’d take the burns.