WINGS

CHAPTER THREE

Mason didn't say anything after Michael walked in, and he hated that they were already arguing his second day back. It wasn't supposed to be like this, they should have been laughing, they should have been out getting a Christmas tree by now.

His book lay open on the table and Mason was scribbling down notes. Nothing specific, just anything to make him look busy. Michael liked to see him studying which usually meant he would have left him alone. But it appeared it wasn't going to work this time. Michael sat down at the table. His strong and hovering presence hard to ignore. "Can we talk?"

"Why? You've made it clear that I'm supposed to be a robot and I don't need anyone." Mason kept writing.

"That's not fair."

"Oh, really? It's like I'm not supposed to have needs and as far as you're concerned, I'm not grown up enough to make my own decisions."

Michael reached his long arm across the table. His thick fingers splayed over the top page. "Talk to me, kiddo. Please. I promise we can work this out."

The pen in Mason's hand dropped to the table. He sat back with his arms folded across his chest. "Michael, I just want more in my life besides, books and tests. I get that the military has trained you to be disciplined, but I'm not like you." He shrugged and began to mumble, "Maybe if you had let me join too..."

"That is not up for discussion," Michael ordered, soundly, "So, talk about what it is that's really bothering you."

"See? What's the use in talking to you? You're acting like I'm still that little kid and I don't know any better. I'm a grown man. God, you're such a control freak."

Michael sighed, pausing at the truth. "So, I've been told. Listen, Ace," he said, sincerely. Mason kept his eyes elsewhere. "Hey, look at me."

Mason rolled his eyes as they landed back at him. "Sir," he said with a hint of attitude.

"Ace," said Michael as kind and as thoughtful as he could. "You know I'm not any good at this whole heart to heart thing. But I know because of who you are, you're more in touch emotionally than I am. And just because I can't always control my temper, doesn't mean I don't feel guilty for getting angry with you. Especially when I know I'm wrong." A crooked smile spread over Mason at his admittance. "It just takes me a little longer to figure it out than you. That's all."

"So...," Mason said, looking hopeful and sat up in his chair. "Are you saying that my dating and going out isn't going to bother you?"

Michael cringed. "Not ex—actly," he spilled in syllables. "But I am willing to meet you halfway. Look, I just don't want you to get distracted. You've worked so hard to get where you are now."

"What am I not understanding, Michael? Please tell me, because as far as I know, people study and date all the time."

"True, but then they get distracted, emotionally. They fall out of routine and sometimes...they don't get back on track. Then where does that leave you? Uneducated with no future and alone."

Mason's mocking laugh implied that very thing without saying so. "You mean like you?" Michael's silence held the room under a stunned look that made Mason quickly regret his words. He hadn't realized what a blow he'd dealt. "Oh god, I'm sorry. Michael, I didn't mean it. I'm grateful for everything you've sacrificed for me, honest. Please, I didn't mean it."

Michael's arm withdrew and he sat back. Mason saw the thought draw on him. "It's okay. I deserve that."

"No, you don't. Shit. I was just mad. You didn't ask for the responsibility..."

"Ace, you don't ever have to defend me. And I may not have asked for it, but I sure as hell don't regret it. I love you, kiddo. You're my life, my family, and there's not a thing in this world I wouldn't do for you."