20 ❄ ( VIDEO )

[wintershepherd]

[ Jack's voice is quiet, nearly monotone and there are dark hollows under his eyes. ]

There's something you should know about the snow in the open areas between the domes. Some of the snow I make has magic in it, and what it does is make people more open to loosening up and playing around in it. It has to do with my center being Fun, it was never intended to hurt anyone but... it did.

Even though this time was an accident... it was also in the big snowfall last March. If you spent a lot of time outside that weekend, you probably got at least a little dose of it. A couple people already knew about this but I'm the one who should have said something before this. Long before, I was just--

I've already tried to break as much of the effect as I can between the three main domes, it should be mostly clear now and back to regular snow.

[ Which might explain the ill effect it seems to have had on him; he's been literally trying to undo the very essence of himself he expended into it. He takes a breath as though to add something else then apparently thinks better of it, reaching over and turning the console off. ]

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[wintershepherd]

[ Jack would rather like to be considered normal company, but he understands a lot about extenuating circumstances. He settles himself more comfortably on his chair, long legs crossing so he could rest his elbows on them and lean forward, fixing Bruce with an attentive gaze. ]

Whatever you tell me will stay between us, I promise.

[ a pause and, finally putting into words the elusive slip of half-knowledge he'd been holding for months, he said slowly: ]

... that was you, wasn't it? When the specters came out of the satellite wreckage.

[angermanaging]

[It's not that he's worried about Jack spreading it around. The cat's really out of the bag on that one. His habitual secrecy is just something Bruce has never lost, and he feels safer that way. He's an instinctively private man and that's not about to change, but with someone he's known as long as he's known Jack (nine months or nearly, he realizes) it doesn't matter so much anymore.

The subject itself still matters, very much. But Bruce is taken aback by that astute observation.] Yeah, [he says in faint surprise, straightening his posture a bit from where it'd been slumping.] It happened then. What gave it away?

That's-- that's what I'm always trying to prevent. My 'condition'. [He conceals the hint of bitterness as well as he's able.]

[wintershepherd]

[ The fact confirmed against probability, Jack takes a moment to digest that. Invariably he ends up replaying that meeting in his mind, how he'd almost been flattened by a lamppost and a metal door-- but that the green one had chosen to attack the specter Jack hadn't seen instead. ]

It was the wind. When I woke up, after everything...

[ Like getting possessed, then getting electrocuted twice, then having his staff broken purposely... that had been a rough week. ]

I asked it to make sure everyone was all right, to find if there were any more specters left or any other [ a split second hesitation ] threats. The wind said it couldn't find anything but it brought me your name and I didn't understand why. I thought it had made a mistake.

[angermanaging]

[This is news he hadn't known. Good thing he knows he can trust Jack. Someone with the ability to hear things on the wind back home could've made his life a nightmare instead of a depressing travelogue.]

No, it-- it wasn't wrong. [Bruce quiets. The mechanics of how Jack listens to the wind are secondary to the real matter at hand, and he knows it. One hand creeps up to rub at his neck, an unthinking gesture of self-consciousness. His voice is level, composed, but there's a softer note of mourning sustained beneath it.] That's me. Or it's, I don't know, I thought for a long time that it wasn't me. That I couldn't be that, that mindless, destructive... [He trails off, amends,] Maybe it is.

[Bruce gives a short sigh, eyes dropping.] I can't tell anymore.

[wintershepherd]

[ The spirit's tone is likewise calm, if a little thoughtful. There isn't anything judgmental in the way he's clearly trying to put the pieces together. ]

I get the destructive part but... I didn't see mindless. You-- [ a brief hesitance at the pronoun, unsure how to approach that ] --could have gone after anything, not just the specters.

But that's not what happened.

[ Okay there'd been a small thing with the lamppost but other than that. Which Jack had technically started by flying into him. On the flip side, so much of Bruce's avoidance behaviour made more sense now and Jack could tell this was not a recently acquired condition. He didn't know what had gone on in Bruce's world with this. ]

Not from where I was standing, anyway.

[angermanaging]

[Bruce doesn't protest the pronoun choice, though his expression tightens faintly. He tends to own the Hulk's actions only in those circumstances where he's admitting to the guilt he feels for them. Other times, he expresses complete and total denial of them being his responsibility; but these days that line is getting further and further muddled.]

I didn't just go after the specters, [he corrects, a bit more coldly, directed at himself. Refusing to give in to the crushing sorrow at the haunting memories of those kedan he'd killed (he'd killed). Bruce doesn't know whether the flashbacks he'd had later were real, or a result of his guilt fabricating events to remember. Either way, the incident hasn't left him.]

He didn't. Whatever you want to call it. [A short breath out, still looking away.] Anyone that he spared got lucky. Believe me. Don't trust him. Just go the other way if it happens again.

[wintershepherd]

[ Jack makes note when Bruce refers to the Hulk by "he" and defaults to that from here on, unless he's told otherwise. A tentative outreach of his hand, though he stops just shy of laying it on Bruce's arm. Not fear which stills the gesture, nor caution, but trying to understand what the man wants and how it jives with what's being said. ]

If you want me to run then why did you want to know if this would work on you?

[angermanaging]

[He stills, quiet, doesn't move. Bruce has been alone for so long that he doesn't react to Jack reaching out, doesn't know how to accept it or even if he wants it. Ordinarily he's careful to show Jack only the kind side of him, the aspects that feel guilt and calm determination to help others.

Now some of the darker, lurking resentment toward his entire lot in life comes through, though concealed as well as he can keep it.]

I don't always get what I want, [he says, voice pitched low.] You have a better chance of stopping me and preventing more... [more deaths] more casualties than most anyone else. It's a logical risk.

[Not one that he's happy about.]

[wintershepherd]

Well... logical or not, it seems to me that if this is something that you do want, I've certainly got no objection. Not that I'm the smart one to ask when it comes to risk but that's never stopped me before.

[ "And it won't, if that's what you need." ]

[angermanaging]

[For a moment, the dilemma catches in him, no one side winning out over the other. Is it selfishness vs. selflessness? Is it isolation vs. connection? Bruce has no clue. There's a lot tied up in his refusal to allow others to help him, and it's so much more complicated than wanting to be alone or fear of hurting others. He doesn't understand it any better than he imagines anyone else could if he tried to explain it, and eventually, after a few seconds, he gives up entirely.

His hand slides up from his neck to rub at his eyes, mind strained at the internal conflict.] I just don't want you to get hurt, [he settles on. That's certainly true enough.]

[wintershepherd]

[ Jack smiles at that, though it seems far older and wiser than should be seen on a teenage face. He unfolds long legs from his seat and stands, heading for the kitchen and calls over his shoulder. ]

I'm going to get something to drink. You want anything?

[ Jack doesn't need anything but it's a polite way to give Bruce a few moments to get himself back to sorts without kicking him out of the suite. ]

[angermanaging]

[He sees immediately through to the real motive behind getting a drink, and raises his head to smile wryly at Jack, not denying that he needs that moment.]

Sure. Whatever you're having.

[wintershepherd]

[ Bruce remains forever the smart one between them and Jack just smiles to himself as he ambles to the kitchen. He keeps tea on hand for the frequent times that Zatanna drops by and that's the thing he has that takes the longest to prepare so by the time he returns with two mugs (one steaming warmly and the other, not) and sets the hot one before Bruce, it's been several minutes. ]

[angermanaging]

[Since he tries to avoid caffeine (it seems like a stupid risk to take) Bruce appreciates the tea. It’s relaxing, and he always needs relaxing. By the time Jack has returned, he’s gotten himself level again, almost imperceptibly different from normal and merely slightly more open.

He accepts the mug, idly toying with it as he waits for it to cool. Since he likes to take the conversation off of himself, he asks,] Feeling better? [That had been his real intent behind coming here.]

[wintershepherd]

[ Jack's smile is slightly rueful but he nods; though in truth it's more like, he doesn't feel worse. If Bruce has deemed that his magic could possibly help him, Jack will hold onto that. He feels better about that, though it is different from how he feels about himself. ]

Thanks, Bruce.

[angermanaging]

[He'll take that as mission accomplished. It's not his business if Jack has reservations he's not telling him-- it's only his business once he's told.]

No problem. [And he means it. Bruce distracts himself with his hot chocolate, sipping, mulling things over in silence with no apparent urgency to talk.]