Ten Years Later.

[heywilma]

A 'Ten Years Later' scenario for Wing, previously a pup of XA.

 

Jason sat by himself and stared ruefully at the glass of red wine in front of him, not daring to look up and meet anyone’s eye. The quiet clink of silverware, the curious gaze of the waiter, and the polite buzz of conversation, all these things made him uncomfortable. The fact that he was sitting in a fancy restaurant, when he couldn’t, and hadn’t eaten for the past 11 years, that also made him uncomfortable.

 

The straps on the Kevlar bind he wore around his body were starting to dig into his back, but he was forbidden by law to remove it, or even loosen it at all. His image inducer had started to beep discreetly, meaning that it needed to be recharged soon.

 

He hoped Carrie would arrive quickly, get whatever she wanted over with, so they could both leave and live their own separate lives, as they had done for such a long time. A small part of him wished that he wouldn’t think like that, but then, it was the same small part of him that thought he and Carrie were still as close as they used to be.

 

Denial wasn’t so bad, really, said the small part of him.

 

A little while later, Jason’s image inducer was starting to beep with more alarming frequency. His nose twitched, or rather, the inducer made it look like he was twitching his nose. It was to his great relief that the waiter announced that the two guests he was waiting for would be joining him.

 

He didn’t meet Carrie’s eye as she sat down opposite him, and it was only after hearing her manager, Gwen’s impatient clicking of her tongue that he tore his gaze away from the wine glass.

 

“Hey,” Carrie said awkwardly.

 

Hi. It looked and sounded like he had actually said the word.

 

“How’ve you been?”

 

Not bad. Could’ve been better.

 

Gwen yawned. “Couldn’t we all? In fact, that’s why we asked you to come here today, Mr. Ether.” She gave Carrie a darkly significant look, then summoned the waiter to order a glass of champagne. Carrie waited until Gwen’s drink arrived, and leaned forward slightly.

 

“Jason,” she spoke carefully, but the lack of hesitation convinced Jason that she had rehearsed the speech before she came. “I have a favour to ask.”

 

When Jason remained silent, Carrie took that as an invitation to speak more. “Work’s been slow lately,” she said with an uneasy smile, “even the paparazzi aren’t bothering me as much as they used to.”

 

That was followed by a dry laugh and a nervous twist of the napkin. “Well. I can’t blame them- I haven’t exactly been newsworthy lately.”

 

Gwen chose to interrupt there. “Carrie,” she said in a stern tone, “I’m sure Mr. Ether doesn’t want you to dawdle.”

 

The now not-so-discreet beeping of the inducer made sure that Jason had no choice but to agree with her. He gave a slight noncommittal jerk of his head, indicating that he was waiting to hear what Carrie had to say.

 

A pause, then Carrie exhaled deeply, as if finally making up her mind. “I’m writing a book.”

 

Before Jason could wonder about the significance of this, Gwen elaborated. “It’s going to be called ‘Living Dangerously: My Life With A Mutant Foster Brother’.”

 

Carrie ignored her. “I need your permission, Jason.”

 

“She’s not bound by law to do it, but she thinks it’s unethical if she doesn’t ask you.” Gwen shrugged. “You’ll say yes, won’t you? Carrie’s career is at stake here.”

 

“Please, Jason?”

 

---

 

Jason.

 

That name still stung. He could remember the exact day that he had stopped being Wing; stopped being a Flint.

 

The situation had been uncannily like this night, the only difference being that it had been in the Flints’ Minnesotan home, and at that time, he and Carrie were still close.

 

He had just turned 18 a few days ago, and was taking some time off from Xavier’s to be with his family. Technically Cindy and Owen were no longer his legal guardians, but they were family. Perhaps they were not related, but in this case, water was perhaps thicker than blood.

 

It had been him, Carrie, and the same manager, sitting in the kitchen, having a few laughs. Maybe at the time he had wondered why Gwen was there intruding on their personal spaces, but he didn’t give it much thought.

 

The conversation had quickly turned to Carrie’s new starring role in an upcoming teen movie. He had barely finished his congratulations when the manager asked him to change his name.

 

Confused, he asked why.

 

Gwen started explaining all the intricate details of Carrie’s new career, and the importance of good PR word, and how his being a mutant could eventually damage Carrie’s image.

 

And Carrie, she wasn’t as confident about it at that time. Maybe she didn’t to do it, but she asked him nonetheless. “Please, Wing?”

 

It felt surreal, but he said yes, he’d change his name as soon as possible, and try to approach the family less from now on.

 

Carrie had pulled him into a hug, looking slightly guilty as she did so. “Thank you, Jason.”

 

And everything had changed.

 

Three weeks later, he became Jason Ether. Some time after that, Carrie Flint became the teenage sweetheart of American cinema. He never broke his promise not to approach the family. They all exchanged Christmas cards, nothing more.

 

He saw Carrie’s first movie, and as his chest swelled with pride, he remembered that fairly, she was no longer his sister. That thought had left such a bitter aftertaste in his mouth. The importance of good PR, he supposed…

 

---

 

“Jason?”

 

Carrie’s voice pulled him back into the present. He looked up at her, and realized with a pang that she really needed this. The cynical part of his brain reminded him that she was, after all, an actress. Yet, he found this cynicism very easy to ignore.

 

You’ve gotten a lot thinner, he remarked lightly, masking his concern.

 

That dry laugh again. “I’m overworked and underpaid.”

 

She had meant it as a joke, perhaps, but it wasn’t funny. At least, not to him. They sat in silence while Gwen looked uncomfortably between them like watching a silent tennis volley. She cleared her throat. “Well, I-”

 

Yes.

 

Gwen looked a little taken aback. “What?”

 

I give you permission. To use me in the book.

 

He found it very hard to say ‘no’. He had rarely said that word to other people, least of all, Carrie. Maybe it was just a habit that was very hard to break.

 

Gwen’s face just split into a huge smile. Jason was half wondering how the top of her head was staying attached to her jaw, when her mouth ran straight across the equator of her face, from West to East. “Knew you’d say that, Mr. Ether. Wonderful man.” She beamed, then feinted shock as she glanced at her watch. “Oh will you look at the time. Carrie?”

 

The manager rose to leave, but Carrie stayed where she was. “I’ll be right with you, Gwen, just give me a minute or two.” There was a frown on her face.

 

As Gwen practically skipped out of the place, Jason and Carrie sat in silence, no one moving, or looking at each other.

 

“Thank you,” Carrie spoke first. She kept her gaze fixed on the napkin in front of her.

 

Jason willed himself to smile, but as his image inducer strained to keep up with that command, it finally exhausted its battery life, and with a sad little wailing beep, died. The illusion of Jason’s normality flickered once, twice, then decided that it wasn’t worth it, and went away completely.

 

Carrie’s mouth formed a little ‘o’ of surprise, maybe? He couldn’t tell.

 

Feeling suddenly exhausted, Jason excused himself with a small nod of his head, and ignoring the waiter’s look of disgust, retrieved his coat. Carrie was left sitting at their table. She said something as he opened the door, but he didn’t quite catch it. It didn’t matter now, anyway.

 

As he walked away, he wiped something uncannily like tears from his face. But they couldn’t have been tears, could they? Because everyone knew that mutants weren’t human enough to cry.