Interim Ep 3: Winning First. [COMPLETE]

[Bannon]

Victorious warriors win first and then go to war, while defeated warriors go to war first and then seek to win. – Sun Tzu

 

Early Saturday Morning, before ‘Unusual Request’

Gareth Bannon was still abed when Hank came by to pick him up for the weekend get-together.  Jason had gone upstairs with a mug of coffee and woken his dad, then come back downstairs.  There was no breakfast cooking today – the two men would be stopping at a place on the way to the militia campsite.  And so he and Hank were hanging out on the porch as the dawn mist slowly evaporated over the fallow fields, lean youth and grizzled veteran alike nursing a mug of black coffee against the rail.

“You got more honeys comin’ round?”  Hank asked with a sly smile.  “Or the same one, perhaps?”  He glanced sideways at Jase, who sipped from his mug as his eyes roamed the dawn landscape.  “I mean, whooo, I’d invite her around more than once – if I was twenty years younger.”  He paused a beat.  “Eh, mebbe ten years.”

“She’d chew you up and spit you out.”  Jase deadpanned, a faint gleam of amusement in his eyes.  Not for the first time, Hank assessed the collected youth.   Jason’s lips twitched as something funny occurred to him.  “Apart from the head.”

“She’s a spitter, then?”  Hank prodded, trying to see if he could faze his verbal sparring partner.

“I wouldn’t know.  And if I did, wouldn’t tell.”  Came the response.  Hank laughed.

“Good for you, kid.  Good for you.  Watch it, though.  Girl like that – that’s a lot of trouble for a young man.”

“Lot of trouble for any man.”  Jase agreed, smiling a little.  “I like her, though.  She’s interesting.  And jokes aside, we’re just friends.”

“Just friends, or just friends.”  Hank inquired as he rested both elbows on the rail.

“I mean neither of us date, and we share some interests and a sense of humor.  I’m not even sure if she likes me in the way you mean.”  Another teen would have said that line with perhaps a downcast air – Jason stated it in the same way he would give a report that the weather was uncertain.

“Eh.  Friends is good, kid.  No need to read more into it, or less either.”  Hank shrugged his burly shoulders, then laughed.  “Fuck, don’t listen to me anyhow.  If I was an authority, I’d not be hanging out with your dad this weekend.”

“Well, I do have four or so girls coming round later.”  Jase stated with a sly sideways look.  Hank blinked and looked at him.  “Group project.”  Jase clarified, smiling a little.  “No hanky or panky.  At least, not unless I’m completely reading them wrong.”

“Guess the whole ‘take the brakes off, let the world see you shine’ thing is paying off, huh?”

“Guess so.”  Jase was silent a moment.  “Hank, I need a favor.  You going to be staying at the Sons camp, or at your cabin as usual?”

“Cabin as usual.  Some of those boys like to stay up late and drink and party – I like my quiet.  Your dad will be staying at the camp though.”  Hank studied the lanky teen anew.  “What do you need?”

“To talk to you about some stuff.”  Jase stated calmly.  “And, if you agree, training.”

“What kind of training?”  Hank narrowed his eyes, Jason turning his own gaze to meet the older man’s without any sign of hesitation.

“The kind I’d only come to you for.”

[Bannon]

Sunday Morning, early.

Hank’s cabin was on a large plot of acreage, mostly undeveloped scrub and sparse woodland about an hour’s drive north of Shelly, close to the town of Milk River.  If you didn’t know where the turn off was on the backroads once off the highway, you’d sail right past the track leading to his home.

Assuming you found the track, you weren’t home free yet.  A large steel gate crossed the track roughly a quarter mile up, with an intercom mounted on a post and a large red sign that stated very clearly that the land was privately owned, unannounced trespassers would be considered hostile, and warning against straying from the track.

Hank liked his privacy and security.  It was part of his charm.

Even friends had to buzz the intercom before coming up to the house, and even then only during the daytime were they allowed to come in without express permission, to prevent accidents.

Did we mention that Hank really liked his privacy and security yet?  He also didn’t have many friends.  Acquaintances, yes.  People who listened to and respected him when he spoke, sure.  Friends?  Not so many.

As Jason’s Charger, rumbling like a contented lion, came to a stop outside the cabin, the teen could see Hank sitting on the porch step, pulling on a pair of boots.  The yard, boundaried as it was by the treeline, was neat and tidy.  Workshop over there on the left, a shelter beside it under which was parked Hank’s pickup.  To the right was a makeshift range with targets set back amongst the trees, a sandbag wall in the distance to prevent stray rounds going too far.  Hank took range safety seriously: one of the only times you’d see him be anything other than relaxed at the militia get togethers was when someone was clowning with an unsafe fiream.  The kind of dressing down the ex-Marine gave the offender was, in part, where Jason had learned his own acid brand of critique.

“Hey kid.”  Hank called as Jase shut the Charger’s door.  The burly soldier stood up, stamping his feet into his boots, and regarded the gleaming car.  “She’s a beauty.  And I see you’re not letting the dust build up on the black.  How’s she running?”

“Like a dream.”  Jason smiled slightly.  “Thanks again for helping me get her put together.”  He walked over to his friend, who handed him a cup of coffee.

“Not as good as your gourmet shit, but it’s black and it’s got caffeine in.”  Hank nodded toward the step.  “Tell me what this is about?” he not-quite ordered.  Jason sat down, cradling the mug between his hands, and pondered where to start.

“I nearly killed a man on Friday night.” He got right to the point.  “Deliberately.”

“Deliberately?”  Hank studied him levelly.  “You mean you attacked him on purpose, or you deliberately ‘nearly killed’ him.”  Hank was sharp, and years of talking with Jason gave him a certain insight into the way the kid used language.

“I mean I purposefully left him with a pulse and breathing.  Probably brain activity too.”  Jason clarified, as though discussing sports scores.  He met Hank’s dark eyes with his own pale gaze.  The older man nodded slowly.

“You have a reason for it?” he asked calmly, eyes narrowing a little.  He’d always suspected this might happen someday, ever since he’d come to assess the kid back when he was scrawny little nothing with eyes too large and grave for his young face.  He’d tried to encourage positive outlets for that fierceness, but with young adulthood arriving…

“He attacked a friend. Hit her a few times, tried to rape her.”  Jason relayed calmly.  Hank slowly sucked in a breath over his teeth, then let it out.  Jason studied the man, trying to read the craggy face.

“Yeah, that’s a reason.” He muttered, sitting down next to Jase.  “Not legal, maybe not wise, but it’s a reason.  Is your friend okay?”  Jase thought about Lona, how she’d been yesterday.  He wasn’t sure he wanted to talk about that yet.

“No permanent harm done, I think.  She’s tough, though.”  He hedged, then went on.  “My friends all know I did it.  Most of them at least, by now.”

“Right.”  Hank said, gazing out into the trees.  “You worried they’ll turn you in?”

“No.”  Jason admitted.  “They can’t, really.  There’s no evidence, and it’d be their word with nothing to back it up.”  He pondered.  “I don’t think they would, though.  They are pretty pissed… I might even have lost some friends over it.” He said without much more than a twinge of regret in his tone.

“How’d you hospitalize a man without leaving evidence?”  Hank enquired, looking sideways at the skinny youth.  “No bruises – he didn’t fight back?”

“I guess he tried to.”  Jase stated after a moment’s thought, picturing Liam clawing at intangible hands.  “That’s another thing I wanted to talk to you about.  It’s strange, but I want you to not freak out.”  Hank have him a quizzical glance, and Jason took a breath then held up his mug of coffee.  Without using either hand.

“So.”  Jase began, as Hank stared at the floating mug, then reached out and waved a hand around it.  “Seems puberty isn’t the only change that I'm going through right now…”

[Bannon]

He'd taken it well, after the initial shock.

Hank had remained quiet as Jason laid it all out.  The party, the sabertooth tiger, the trailer, the weird starfish-monster (the adopted name of 'cephalogina' got a snort of amusement).  Then the growing weirdness since - Jason's discovery of his telekinesis, the fact that some of the others had been showing gifts, the uncovering of a conspiracy with Etienne as it's apparent spy and the secret history of Shelly with it's twenty-seven year cycle of violence and horror.  The naming of the Dark, the presence of the Tree.  The increase in power, Jason's discovery that he could freeze or excite molecules... The hunt for Cody, the fight with the beast, the other teens exhibiting powers of teleportation, healing, shapeshifting and other weirdness a mere two days ago.

"You set yourself on fire?"  Hank blinked then.

"Not really.  I set the air around me on fire.  And I might even be able to do the reverse - create a frozen protective barrier."  Jason had explained.  "I think I can control it so that the protective sheathe goes over my clothing next time, though."

"Bet that caused some red faces."  Hank said with a slight smile.  Jason smiled back, nodding, then continued.

He explained about the secret Project under the control of Doctor Cook, and the presence of another player - Mr Black, who seemed to be tired to the Dark itself more directly.  He told of the attack on Liam.  And finally he relayed the general overview of what the Fellowship had tracked during their brainstorming session the previous day.

"I'm telling you this for three reasons."  Jason said at last, meeting Hank's eyes.  "Firstly, so you can keep yourself and Dad safe.  You know enough now to steer clear of trouble and watch for it.  You see Mr Black, avoid him.  You see Cody Sikes, probably best to avoid him too.  You don't Shine, I don't want you getting hurt."

"I'm not helpless, kiddo."  Hank protested mildly.  Jason shook his head.

"Hank, if Mr Black has my gifts, he could kill you without thinking.  I'm assuming he's at least on my level, if not way beyond it.  Best you do too.  You don't Shine, he's not likely to bother with you unless you get on his radar.  Same with Cook and his black project - you probably could make life hell for a black ops team, but why risk it?"  Jason explained calmly, his eyes still on Hanks.  "If I need you, I will call.  You know that.  But I don't have many friends, and you... you're the only one I feel gets me.  Second reason is so you know why I want you to train me.  I need to learn to fight, not school bullies, but as a warrior who is part of a small elite team, or even finds himself on his own."

"And the third reason?"  Hank asked soberly.

"Because I need guidance.  Hurting Liam felt good to me, righteous, like..."  Jason hunted for the words.  "He deserved punishment, and it felt good to give it to him."

"Do you think you'd have enjoyed hurting him if he hadn't hurt your friend?"  Hank studied Jason calmly.

"No.  No, I'd have seen it as pointless, cruelty for it's own sake.  Beneath me.  But the others-"

"Kid, people are always going to have a problem with you being you."  Hank interrupted.  "You have rules you live by, and it doesn't seem like you broke them.  People got upset - Lona got hurt because she felt you didn't consider her feelings on the matter, right?"

"Right, only I did.  That's why I didn't kill him."  Jason answered, causing Hank to nod and put a large hand on his shoulder.

"Right.  Let's address that first, kid.  What that punk did, it didn't warrant death. Got that?  A beating, sure.  The beating you gave him?  Ehh, I wouldn't have gone that far."  he said levelly.  "You've got to cut in some lines of proportion to that code we've been working on.  Cause it does feel good, administering a deserved ass-whupping, but you've got to make sure you keep it relative.  He roughed Avalon up, so break a bone or two and leave it there.  What you did was over the line, and not because it was 'wrong', because it was too much energy being wasted on a rat.  You're better than that. Smarter.  So be smarter."

"And if he'd raped her?"  Jason had asked.

"Kid, we don't, we can't, punish people based on 'what they might have done'.  We deal with them based on what they did, with maybe a little extra for the intent.  Lona was hurt and shaken, but she was otherwise fine.  All that extra you did - it scared the fuckin' bejeezus out of people who need to trust you."  Hank's hand squeezed firmly on his shoulder.  "If he'd have raped that sweet girl, then you bet I'd not give a single shit about what you did - but killing him would've still been too far.  Bottom line - keep it proportional.  That rage you have, the instinct - I know it too, Jase.  People aren't gonna like it, but you can at least not scare the shit outta them with it."

Jason nodded, his eyes on his cold coffee.  With a flicker of an eyelid, steam began to rise from the mug once more and he took a sip.  Hank chuckled, dropping his hand from Jason's shoulder and offering his own mug, which likewise started to steam.

"That's better than settin' fire to monsters or tossing shitbags around."  Hank smiled as he took a sip, then sat in silence for a long moment, thinking.

"Alright. I'll train you."  he said at length.  "We'll work on your sense of proportion too.  Sounds like your control extends only until you let yourself off the leash, rather than controlling yourself after.  So we're going to teach that instinct of yours to come to heel rather than run itself tired."

"Great."  Jason said, standing.  "Where do we start?"  Hank had looked up at the lean, gangling figure and laughed.  

"Discipline, conditioning, and strength."  he'd said with a grin.  Jason looked at him flatly.

"You mean PT."

"I mean PT."  Hank grinned.  "You run, it should be a breeze for ya.  We need to get some muscle on those arms though."  He set the mug aside and stood himself, stretching.  "First rule, no powers unless I say.  You pull any of that Jedi whupass on me without my say-so, and we are done.  Save that X-Men shit for when you're playing with your Fellowship.  Got it?"

"Got it."  Jason nodded with a small smile.  Hank sized him up once more.

"Alright.  We've got some fucking work to do, and no mistake, kid.  Lets get to it."