A Second Chance

Once they were back in the car, Firefly spoke to his charge again, clearly not in the best of moods. "Who the hell do you think you are?" He was pissed about that stupid little illusion that he'd been maintaining ever since they'd left. He felt it was childish, and also a dangerous step in the wrong direction. Using ones powers frivolously once one step closer to using them for evil deeds. In truth, the two uses could rarely be related, but Firefly was not one to take these things lightly. He didn't tolerate people like Mist, as of course he had made known very early in their relationship.

Despite this cursory angry comment, Mike soon pulled out into the road, directing the car home without a word. He put on the radio for the first time in months, having decided that the terrible music coming from it was far preferable to the horrid sound of Mist breathing. When one is so used to living alone, it often becomes hard to adjust to the little noises of other people living, and that was the case for Mike. Unfortunately for him, once they reached his home again, there was nowhere to hide, and so he just hightailed it out of the car as quickly as possible. He spoke quickly to Mist though, "No illusions. If I catch even a sniff of one, you get the blindfold." It seemed fair to him.
 
Mist didn't quite know what was annoying Firefly so much. He didn't consider that it was his illusion. What was wrong with Mist making himself look more presentable? He liked looking good, especially after being in prison for so long. Part of him was glad he never saw what he looked like in those oversized prison clothes. It must've been horrible.

He looked down at his hands during the drive back to Firefly's place, inspecting the damage from earlier to pass the time. It wasn't too bad. Scraped up a bit, as he'd expected. They needed to be cleaned well, though. He'd take care of that as soon as they were back. Though once they had arrived, Firefly made it clear that Mist wasn't allowed to use any illusions. That did not sit well with him at all.

"Why?" he asked. "What's wrong with them? I'm not hurting anyone with them, including you." He'd used his illusions for small, cosmetic things all the time before he was in prison. It felt so natural for him to use the illusions. And now, after six years of not being able to cast any, it felt like he was allowed to breathe properly again. These illusions were very much a part of him.
 
Mike did not intend to show any compassion towards Mist. He did not deserve any, as far as he was concerned. Perhaps he was going overboard with the total ban on illusions, but he still felt he needed to lay down the law in this respect. The one thing he wouldn't admit, was the fact that he was actually a little fearful of these illusions. He knew that he would have no way of knowing if he was caught up in one, and the fact that it would be so easy to lose all control, that scared the living shit out of him.

"Because you can't be trusted. That's it." There, that was a good enough excuse. "Just, shut up about it, or I'll put the blindfold back on." It was a rather radical approach, but it didn't bother Firefly, the threat stood, whether or not he intended to follow through with it. Not thinking about it for now, he just headed inside, grumpy as always, throwing himself down in the living room, pretty much sprawling on the sofa. He sat there, almost visibly steaming.
 
Mist let the illusion drop after that argument, letting himself look unkempt again. He went into the house after Firefly, letting himself get a proper look around the place this time. There were plenty of comments he could have made about it, but he kept his mouth shut. He didn't want the man to have any reason to blindfold him again.

"Where is the bathroom?" he asked. "I need to take a shower." Desperately. He wanted to get himself clean. Desperately. He hated how dirty he felt, and there were plenty of memories that he wanted to wash away along with the dirt.
 
Good. Once the illusion has been laid to rest, Mike felt a little bit more at ease, though he was still tense. It was unlikely that he would truly relax for some weeks, he was an uptight man at the best of times, and with Mist around, it was simply impossible to let his guard down even for a second. For the time being, he sat, recumbent in his chair, looking quite like an alcoholic in a stupor, he was only missing the beer gut. Fortunately, he hadn't been drinking, for he was a pretty damn angry drunk, even moreso than his normal self.

"Find it yourself, you've got your precious eyes. Use them." It wasn't difficult to find, in all honesty, but it still would have been nice to give Mist a little help. Even so, seeing as it was the second door on the left, after Firefly's bedroom, a room that remained dark at all times of day, it would be hard to miss it.
 
Mist frowned at that, but he didn't argue or correct the one little mistake Firefly had made. He just went on a hunt for a bathroom with a shower, finding it upstairs. With that found, he picked out a fresh outfit consisting of another t-shirt and pajama pants and went into the bathroom. Figuring out how to work the shower was a challenge for a few seconds, but he succeeded.

He took as long of a shower as he damn well pleased, greatly enjoying the feel of the hot water running down his skin. He'd closed the door to the bathroom, but he hadn't locked it. Somehow he doubted Firefly would take too kindly to Mist having a locked door between them. Still, so long as Firefly didn't come into the bathroom, Mist felt free to use his illusions. Just in the shower stall, and only small ones. Like making fun little designs in the soap bar.
 
Due to being quite an impatient man as it was, it didn't take long for Firefly to start making his way up the stairs. He was worried that Mist might have run, although this was a bit farfetched. If he had intended to run, he would have done so by now. Logically, he did know that, but he was still pretty damn paranoid about being taken in by this criminal. He couldn't allow Mist to get one up on him, and so he just gave no slack whatsoever.

"Get the fucking hell out of there!" Firefly bellowed, intending to just jiggle the handle a bit, having assumed that it would be locked. Unfortunately, he ended up flying into the bathroom, very nearly falling over, though thankfully he caught himself before he faceplanted on the floor. What a lucky guy. "What the hell was that?!" He snapped, of course blaming Mist for this accidental mishap.
 
A shower curtain was all that separated a very angry Firefly and a very naked Mist. That made Mist feel extremely uncomfortable, but at least the curtain was still there. If Firefly touched that, then they'd have a problem. Mist didn't exactly feel up to being nude around that guy. Speaking of that guy, he was blaming Mist for something that was both stupid and not Mist's fault.

"It was unlocked," he answered with a frown. "Not my fault you assumed otherwise. Do you think I'd be stupid enough to actually lock the door? Considering how you'd been with me so far?" He hadn't turned off the shower yet, still trying to enjoy the hot water for as long as possible.
 
Mike reckoned that was an awful excuse, not that he had a leg to stand on. Deep down of course he knew that it was all his fault, but he had far too much pride to actually admit that, or even begin to think to himself that it was true. It was an unfortunate and probably unhealthy state of affairs, but nothing could be done to change that. Well, nothing that wouldn't involve alot of coercion and then a helluva lot of soul searching. It was unlikely to ever happen, so at least Mike wouldn't have to think about it any time soon.

Rather than arguing any further, he just settled on saying, "Just get out. You're using up all the hot water." That was good enough. He was still pissed off, but he didn't pursue his anger, instead just turning and storming back out of the door. He crashed back down the stairs, and once again began to stew in his seat. He was uncomfortable with the situation, and it only seemed to be getting worse.
 
"Whatever," Mist said with a sigh. He let himself enjoy the hot water for another minute or so, then he turned the shower off. Without the hot water, the room was still plenty steamy and warm. Mist was definitely enjoying that. Most of the showers he'd had in prison were either way too hot or way too cold. There was no comfortable setting there, and it didn't help at all that the showers were not private. Sure he couldn't see anyone else, but the fact that they could see him had been unnerving to him. He could think of not reason that he'd ever want to share a shower with someone again.

He grabbed a towel--probably Firefly's, but Mist didn't care that much right now--and dried himself off before stepping out of the shower stall. His clothes were right where he left them, and he put them on in a hurry. He didn't like being naked. It just didn't sit well with him. The sooner he was wearing something, the better.

Once dressed, he put the towel back on the rack and went downstairs to see what Firefly was up to. The sight of the man just sitting and stewing made Mist feel a bit uncomfortable. He didn't know if it was some kind of warning sign, and that made him nervous.

"Um..." he started, breaking the silence. "You mentioned something about food?"
 
He amused himself for a while with a rather unhealthy train of thought. He simply envisaged the demise of his charge, inventing new and interesting ways in which to kill him. It was a pretty twisted thing to do, but one filled with as much hate as Firefly was almost guaranteed to feel such things. In another life he might have been a great criminal, it just so happened that his morals were just on the side of the law, and as such he was painted as a hero, though this title was dubious at best.

A few minutes later, he was disturbed by Mist. It was at this point that he lost it. Well, not completely, but it was enough for him to leap out of his chair, whirling on Mist without even a second of warning. "Do you think I am your servant?! Do you really think you are free here?" He marched towards the other man, intending to grab him by the throat, though thankfully he was not quite so maddened that he would try to burn the prisoner. He was stressed, even if the reasons for this were a little bit pathetic.
 
Mist was completely caught off-guard by Firefly's irrational reaction to a simple question. Surely Firefly had realized Mist needed food. Wasn't the guy being compensated for the expenses of taking care of Mist? Food, clothes, and the like? Why was he so angry?

Seeing the man approach him with such anger and what Mist could have sworn was murderous intent, Mist reacted rather poorly himself. Out of fear for his own life, he ran. He fled like a scared dog, running up the stairs and taking refuge in his room. The door was promptly locked behind him, and Mist sat down with his back to it as he gasped for breath. His heart felt like it would fly from his chest from beating so hard. Was Firefly going to kill him just because he'd asked about food?
 
Now that he was well and truly in a rage, Firefly didn't even think as he pursued Mist. He charged back up the stairs once again, immediately trying the door, which the damn awful criminal had so foolishly locked behind him. But unfortunately, Firefly had that trick up his sleeve. Flame burst from him, beginning to work its way through the bulk of the door.

"Don't you dare run from me! You've no right. You are evil." And that was what he truly believed. It was possible that the true reason for his anger was the fact that he knew he was the worst of the two, but that would never come out, if indeed the excuse even existed. Firefly was one messed up person, and the truth of the matter was that he only got by unscathed thanks to the fact that he had started off relatively level headed, and had therefore earned respect and money early on. Without that, he'd be a mass murderer, or dead. Or both.
 
Mist felt the door heating up behind him, and he was quick to scramble away from it. "Are you fucking crazy?" he yelled at Firefly through the door. "You'll burn your fucking house down!" Wood burned, after all, and that's what the door was made of. Along with a decent bit of the house. It was a wonder the place was still standing, given Firefly's temper and fire-manipulating abilities.

He looked around his room in a hurry, trying to find some way out of this. He felt sure Firefly was going to burn him alive, which sounded like such an awful way to go. But something the man had said seemed so wrong that Mist had to correct it.

"I'm not evil!" he insisted.
 
Luckily, Firefly had enough sense to halt the spread of the fire before he had engulfed the entire door. At this point, he simply bashed the remainder of it into nothing but splinters, and once that was done the fire would undoubtedly struggle to find fuel enough on which to thrive. He was still down a door, but those were far easier to replace than the entire contents of the house, not to mention the house itself.

Thankfully for Mist, his assailant had used up a good amount of energy in battering down the door, and as such was no longer in such a psychotic state. He could hardly be termed defused, but he wasn't quite as volatile as he had been a minute or two ago. He spoke, instead of charging in to kill Mist, thank god. "You were in prison for a reason. You killed innocent people." He stated plainly, his voice gruff and unmistakeably tense. He made no effort to hide this, he saw no reason to. "You will never reform, people like you are born evil, and you stay evil." And by that logic, that meant he would stay good. That made sense, right?
 
"Those deaths were accidents," Mist said, looking up at Firefly with obvious fear in his expression. "I hadn't meant to kill anyone. Sure I was responsible for their deaths, but still..." He deeply regretted those deaths, and he knew the families of the people he killed would never forgive him. He had no right to even ask for that forgiveness.

He looked down at the floor, resigning himself to the fact that Firefly was probably going to insist on blindfolding him again. "Haven't I been punished enough?" he asked quietly. "Yes, I stole from people. I robbed banks. I ended up killing a few people. But haven't I been through enough to make up for all of that?"

His gaze lifted, setting on Firefly again. "You have no idea what I've been through. I wasn't born evil, like you seem to think. I could have ended up a perfectly normal, law-abiding citizen. I wanted to be normal. I wanted to be good. But we don't always get what we want, now do we? At least I have a chance to make things right for myself now..." No, not right. It would never be truly right. But he could make things better.
 
Firefly really didn't know what to do. He talked a big game, but he knew that killing Mist was not an option. Should he show any signs of rebelling, he was to be returned to the prison, and Mike was more than capable of apprehending a criminal without killing him. It had been made clear that the prisoner was not to be harmed, else he be dragged through the mud. So, how to vent his anger? How to keep Mist under his thumb?

"I don't believe you." That was one of the most obvious and stupid things he had said all day, and that was saying something. "You took those lives, and you should pay for the rest of yours." He believed in an eye for an eye - two eyes for an eye in alot of cases - and so he reckoned Mist should pay for his accidental crimes for the remainder of his sad little life. It seemed logical to him that this would be the case.

"You should go through more pain, I would inflict it myself, but that is the right of the prisons. But don't think I won't if you force my hand." He was attempting to be reasonable, as well as maintain some level of threat. He was doing a delicate balancing act that was unlike him, though thankfully it had occurred just in time to avoid the destruction of the house, Mist, and Firefly's credibility.
 
Mist looked very sad as he gazed up at Firefly. "What happened to you to make you so cruel?" he asked. He knew that some people were just born bad, if they had some manner of mental issue. Like a sociopath, which he'd seen some examples of in prison. But others went wrong due to things that happened in their lives. And Firefly was wrong.

He could see that arguing with Firefly wasn't going to do him any good. The man was too set in his rather extreme ways. How Firefly himself had kept out of prison was beyond Mist. The man seemed worse than most criminals Mist had worked with before prison.

"You don't want all of this to work," he stated the obvious. "You want me to fail so I can go back to prison, where you think I belong." He fell silent for a moment, choosing his words carefully. "If you do decide to take away my one chance at having a normal life and return me to prison, please just kill me instead. Preferably in some humane manner. I can't go back to prison for the rest of my life. I can't go through all of that again, with no hope of it ending..."
 
This was the first time he had been challenged. Firefly had never had to provide reasoning behind his actions, and this sudden onslaught of seriously valid points had knocked him sideways. It was a source of yet more anger for him, but this was countered with a feeling of drowning. He had just had his feet snatched from under him, and he was floundering now. "I'm not cruel. I make sure the innocent are saved, that's all." That wasn't true, he hardly gave a care for them anymore. When he had started his work, that had certainly been the truth, but the years had warped him. He had lost many innocents, his anger had been nurtured, his faith in humanity rocked until this was the shell of a man that was left.

"Don't tell me what to do. Just count yourself lucky you're not dead yet." Firefly snapped, not really listening to what Mist had to say, simply reacting to it without thinking. He didn't leave any time for Mist to answer this time, instead stalking away once more, letting out a strangled shout of rage that would make even the most hardened man jump. He decided to make himself some dinner, as he hoped to take some of his anger out on mashing something, or perhaps bludgeoning it.
 
Mist watched as Firefly walked away with that shout of rage. It seemed like Mist had won this argument, but it didn't feel like a victory. He felt like the man was going to take it out on him later. For now, though, Mist was alive and not burnt to a crisp. That was good, at least. Still, he was scared of Firefly. The man was unstable, and Mist was too afraid of what might happen if he reported Firefly's instability. Would he be put back in prison until they could find a different supervisor for him? Mist couldn't take that risk...

He stayed in his room, though in time he started to smell something cooking downstairs. His stomach grumbled in response. Their argument had started with a request for food, and Mist was definitely still hungry. He didn't dare go downstairs, though. He didn't want the man to snap at him again.