“I’m not a good person. Never have been. Probably never will be.”
Mason visibly relaxed once he said these words out loud.
It didn’t make the woman across from him any less confused, or worried. And though he noticed, he continued.
“It’s something my granddad always said. When my sis—When I… asked about his time in Vietnam, he’d always give me a tame story and end it with ‘remember son, let no one deceive you. There are no good people.’
The way he explained it, anyone who genuinely believes they’re a good person, that there’s not an ounce of evil and darkness in them, has never been put in an impossible situation.
Because anyone who walks away from one realises something about themselves; that they’re not as good as they think they are. That they have the potential to be as evil as the worst person they know.
Sylvia Siahs death obviously bothers me, and it will for the rest of my life. But not to the extent that the guilt eats me up from the inside.
First of all, taking that kind of responsibility isn’t my thing. Someone else made the choice to murder her. He’ll bear the consequences for his actions.
Second of all, like I said earlier, I’ve never thought of myself as good, so playing a hand in the death of an innocent person is par for the course for an evil piece of shit like me, am I right?”
Mallory was speechless. Not because this was a big revelation or anything. What he described is how most people who lived her way of life and survived to be her age thought of themselves.
What made it hard for her to respond was how sure, how certain he seemed in his assessment and outlook. His age and inexperience also didn't help.
Fossils like her were the ones supposed to have this perspective on life, not someone fresh off teenage hormones.
“That’s… no way to live.”
That’s the only answer she could think of while she brainstormed everything she knew about him. Surely there had to be more to do this.
The way he spoke about his grandfather, his condition, and how he grew up… something was missing from this equation. No way his grandfather would call him evil, especially with his diagnosis and leave it at that.
She was right.
“Obviously, my grandad didn’t say that for saying’s sake. He believed in actions and results, which is why I do too. He taught me to operate from this mindset of being ‘evil’ with the goal of overcoming it.
The point wasn’t just to acknowledge that you’re not good, but rather to keep this in mind in your day to day life and work towards becoming better.
After all, if I’m good, then there’s no need to work on myself. There’s no need to work on my character. There’d be no need to think before I act, because in the end I will rationalize anything I do as good.
If I had stayed the old me, I’d just be the Mason that hated myself for not loving my family enough to want to live for them. So yeah. That’s me. Mason Von Sloan. Climbing the ladder out of hell, one rung at a time.”
For a moment Mallory chose to tune out the side of her that was always working multiple angles and on the lookout for an opening in her interactions with people.
“Your grandfather… he sounds like a very wise man.”
Mason nodded and looked at the roof absentmindedly only to chuckle out of nowhere. “Yeah. He was.”
‘Though Maya might disagree with you.’
“I… this is gonna come out of left field but… I want to say, your grandfather sounds like someone who’d be very proud of the man you’ve become. What you did today… you prevented a tragedy. Let no one tell you otherwise. You were a hero. You are a hero.”
Chuckling even more and blinking away the beginning of tears, Mason took a second to collect himself.
“Hahaha… if he could hear you now. He’d probably tear you a new one about letting me join the military, because it’s one of the things he made me swear to never do. Thanks though, for saying that. It means a lot. Especially coming from someone of your esteemed experience.”
He exhaled and slapped the arm rests.
“All this talking and emotions has made me thirstier than anything. Don’t wait on me. I’ll be talking to the pilot.”
Faster than the older woman could even utter a reply, he stood up, patted the backrest of her seat and went toward the cockpit.
Now by her lonesome, Mallory chuckled and grabbed her phone, making a call to her successor.
“What’s the update?”
“We’ve got her schedule for the upcoming week and narrowed down her usual routes.”
“And the halothane?”
“...Are we really doing this?”
“You mean Butcher and the rest of them?”
“His life will be so much better if he never crosses paths with them.”
“We’re way past that. Vought tried to kill him. Twice. For all their failings, The Boys have a good track record of not dying.”
“You’re hopin—”
“That he’ll learn all he can from them. He’s got a good head on his shoulders. I trust that to cut through their usual bullshit.”
“...If you say so.”
“You’re right though. There’s another reason I’m setting up the meet: Rebecca Saunders.”
A loud, confused sigh came over. “Butcher’s wife. You think he can find her.”
“Nope. I just wanna show him the footage and hear what he has to say.”
“Could be a waste of time.”
“True. But there’s no harm in trying.”
“Butcher’s not gonna like that.”
Mallory pretended she didn’t notice the glee. “Yep. But if the kid does find something…”
“He’s gonna have to suck it up and listen. Speaking of, is he there with you?”
“Mason?”
Mallory looked over her seat and found the door to the cockpit open, the subject of conversation standing behind the pilot and crowding the visible part of the small room with his stature.
“He’s chatting with the pilot. I think he wants to learn how to fly.”
“Somehow I am not as surprised by that as I should be.”
“Same. It’s like someone built a supe and left all the rotten parts out.”
“Well. Let’s hope he stays that way.”
“You know that’s not up to us.”
“I know. Gotta go. Let me know when you land.”
“Mmhm.”
After carefully setting the phone down, Mallory continued examining the footage she procured for Mason. She’d kept a copy and started doing this the same time he did, his request having prompted her to do so.
Naturally, since they were in close proximity on this flight, he’d noticed and pointed out the three strange instances with Neuman. She admitted it was concerning, but definitely not enough to make major moves over.
However, as if by some cosmic joke, she noticed the fourth instance soon after, and it was perhaps the most telling of them all.
During the chaos when she grabbed the young woman to pull her to safety, Neuman stopped and spun around to look at another woman who ran past her screaming.
What happened to that woman the next second didn’t need to be said.
When you piled this snippet on top of the other three and showed it to anyone who could a few brain cells together, it’d give them pause and bring up multiple questions and red flags, like a man in a night club wondering if the woman he was chatting up really had a snake in her pants or if his mind or the lights were playing tricks on him.
Anyway, just like Mason, Mallory preferred decisive action, even though her many years of doing this had made her more cautious and less eager for it.
Things rarely went as planned when wildly irresponsible adults with inbuilt instruments of death were involved.
Thank goodness they had one of their own. And thank goodness he wasn’t a fuckup in any sense of the word.
.
.
.
.
A small bag slung over his shoulder, Mason dialed Lexi as soon as he stepped through the door and saw the private hangar. He hopped down the short steps and joined Mallory near the car waiting for them.
If there was one thing he did not dislike about this new life, it was the seeming high class treatment he experienced anytime he dealt with Rayner and the old lady. Which was almost all the time.
It almost sounded wrong when he calculated how long his stay here had been. So much couldn’t happen in a mere three weeks could it? The day’s events were the answer he didn’t ask for.
In a single day, he’d flown from a safehouse in New Jersey to a hijacked plane over the Atlantic, beat up a couple of terrorists, met some agents from the F.B.I., been to their headquarters for questioning, and then finally boarded a plane back to Manhattan.
Oh, and let’s not forget his trip to the nation’s capital to testify in congress. Sure, it didn’t even start for it to end horribly but that was just life being life and evil freaks being evil freaks.
While he handed over his bag to the chauffeur who asked politely, he dialed Lexi’s number again.
He’d thrown himself into this ‘enjoying life to the fullest’ thing with no plans whatsoever. Originally, the money from Vought and Maya’s obvious desire for him to be a superhero gave him some ideas.
However both seemed to have been unintentionally scrapped by recent events.
His ambiguous draft into the military had put a nebulous pin in the traditional superheroics he had in mind.
Vought’s blatant actions at congress had instilled in him a healthy amount of fear for the corporation and whoever called the shots.
He wouldn’t be touching their tower with a pole even if it extended all the way to another continent. At least, not until they rooted out that head popper or he grew strong enough to withstand their powers completely.
The only thing worse than dying was being trapped in an inescapable prison.
He didn’t know exactly how long it would take his invulnerability to reach the needed threshold or what even said threshold was. But he’d have some concrete clues a week from now since the end of it would mark a full 30 days since his rebirth.
A full thirty days he’d lived here. A full month where he hadn’t missed a day of training. If Muscular Growth wasn’t a total hoax, he’d notice a tangible difference in his strength.
As for durability, that was already covered. So long as his ability to lift heavier things and hit harder improved, his ability to withstand all kinds of damage would improve as well.
Still, this method was a bit too time constrained, that’s why rooting out the head popper had been added to the day’s already hectic to-do list. Neuman was not going to be happy in the coming hours.
“Hey.” Mason beamed when his girlfriend finally answered. He joined Mallory in the backseat of the car and gave the driver a thumbs up.
“Is everything okay? I called you a few times. We just landed at the airport.”
“No, everything's fine. I’m just at a friend’s. She just had a baby. It’s you I’m worried about. Are you okay?”
She must’ve seen the posts of him on the plane. Good god. Everyone must’ve seen them. They all saw him kill that wom—
“Mason?”
“Yeah.” He broke out of it. “Yeah. I’m fine. I will be. That’s actually why I called, to let you know that no matter what you see, don’t worry. I’m okay.”
“A woman died, Mason. That shit will fuck anyone up. You don’t have to pretend. Not with me.”
That was moving a bit fast but well, who cared. This life, he was all about big leaps.
“Heh…” He laughed, searching for words that would convince this stubborn woman. “Remember what I told you back in your apartment? When you were drooling over me?”
“I did not drool!”
“Uhh… I cleaned that dirty ass place. I’m pretty sure of the stuff I mopped off your floors.”
“Mason! Stopppp!” She did a mix of a whine and moan at the last part, and he was not ashamed to admit it revved up his engine a tiny bit.
‘Damn. I’m really nothing but a horny teenager now.’
“Fine. But you’ll also stop worrying about me. I know how that sounds, so we’ll talk more about this when I get home. Okay?”
“...Okay. What time will you get here?”
“Umm… I don’t know. I have to talk to some people about what happened. Government oversight stuff. It shouldn’t take long. I’ll let you know when I’m coming.”
“Okay. I’m at my friend’s place, so if you can pick me up here…”
“Great. That’s great. I’ll swing by then. Later.”
“Later. Kisses.”
Mason ended the call and looked to his right. “When did you say the stuff would arrive?”
Mallory kept her legs crossed and eyes on the flashing scenery. “A day. Two days. Let me guess, money problems?”
“I need a car. Guess I’ll have to borrow one from you guys till I can afford one.”
“If your suits can do what you say they can, money will be the least of your problems.”
He shrugged in acceptance and relaxed in the soft seat. Even with the extra space that had been created for his tree trunk legs, the ride still felt more comfortable than any he’d had prior to this.
For the flight, he had no frame of reference since his first time on a plane was the trip to D.C., which also happened by way of private jet.
‘What a life.’ He lowered his head back and took full advantage of the adjustable neck rest, closing his eyes and uttering a comfortable sigh. ‘I could get used to this.’
He didn’t fall asleep per say. His mind just stayed devoid of coherent thought for the rest of the journey. This didn’t count as rest, not that he needed it. It just felt nice to not have his neurons firing at full speed all the time.
“We’re here.”
That’s why he sat straight and went from zero to hundred with no discomfort upon Mallory’s prompt. A glance around filled him in on their new location and the time of day.
The sun had dipped and disappeared, leaving this dingy alley? Was this even an alley? There was a dumpster and buildings looked busted as hell. Nobody should be living in this place, with the damaged roofs and non-existent windows.
He joined Mallory on the ground, kicking away trash as he followed her to one of the dilapidated buildings, which were all constructed of red brick.
So far, she’d given him vague answers on the people she insisted could help him with Neuman. He didn’t think he needed help but the old woman had been in this job longer and likely had another motive, so he gave in.
At the metal door marked with spots of rust, they heard creaking and the sound of locks moving out place before the hunk of metal swung open with a whine.
The guy at the door was no one he recognized. However, a voice he did recognize uttered a “holy shit” and drew his attention. Deeper into this house stood Hugie and Butcher, the duo who beat and kidnapped Translucent.
What were the chances he’d meet these two here? And what happened to that pervert by the way?
“Madame Mallory…” Whoever this guy receiving us was, there seemed to be some bad blood between him and Mallory. He looked like he’d committed the gravest sin against the old woman and sought forgiveness for it.
As for said old lady, she barely even looked at him. “Serge… are you gonna let us in?”
“Of course madame.”
Not weird at all. That French accent was fire though.