GR: A long way to go

Summary: An underage red-head with anger management problems and a mad scientist providence agent walk into a bar...


He pulled up a seat at the far end of the bar. The only other people around were an annoyingly cheerful group of friends drinking at the other end, the bartender, and a fairly young looking Latino man sitting a few feet away. There was some slow, dreary sounding song coming through on the radio, but there was no way he would have recognized it even if he'd given the words any real attention. The lights were low and flickered from time to time, it was a cheap joint, but peaceful enough.

He rested his head in his arms. He'd only stopped to get an idea of where he was, but suddenly the thought of walking back out into the night sounded less and less appealing.

"Hey, kid." The bartender gave him an incredulous look. "We check ID here. Twenty-one and up only."

"I didn't come in to drink." he scowled. "I just needed a break, some food maybe."

"Twenty-one and up only, for anything."

"You're gonna card me for food?" This guy was just asking for a broken nose.

"Easy, my good man." the Latino said to the bartender, breaking the tension if only for a moment. He spared the youth a quick glance before pulling out some cash. "Get the boy some food, señor, he looks like he's had a long day."

The bartender looked the money over, then the man, before shrugging and walking away. The elder of the patrons smiled and took a sip of his drink, while the other just stared.

"Do I know you?" he asked the man. His face seemed familiar, and not in a good way. His presence alone made the irritable teen uncomfortable.

"I don't believe so. Why do you ask?" It was something in his voice, his accent, his hair, his posture, his... everything that seemed to warn him to just get up and go. But he stayed, if only to place this strange feeling.

"Just not everyday a total stranger offers to buy a guy food." He stared straight ahead, absentmindedly rubbing a carefully carved chunk of wood that hung from a string around his neck.

"Perhaps you've just been in the wrong company, niño." The man extended a hand, firm and slightly calloused from his work. "Caesar Salazar."

Grey eyes flitted over the man's grinning face and then his hand, which he hesitantly took. "Mask."

Caesar blinked. "Mask?"

"Don't ask." he yawned. "I'm to tired to explain myself to strangers."

The food came and Mask picked at it halfheartedly. Truth be told, he was much more in need of sleep than food.

"You should try and eat all of that." said the Latino. "You've got the look of a young man who's come a long way, but still has a long way to go."

The red-headed teen looked at him skeptically. "You a shrink or something?" This earned him a light laugh.

"No, a scientist actually. I work with machines, but some say that the human mind is the most complicated machine of all." He tapped the side of his head pointedly. "Besides that, you remind me very much of someone- mi hermanito."

What little high school education Mask had told him that Caesar was referring to his younger brother.

"Yeah? Is that a good thing?" he smirked.

The man's dark brown eyes looked suddenly distant, his smile less full of life. "Yes. A very good thing."

The silver-eyed teen may not have been a genius, but he could read the mood. "He hasn't been around much?"

A nod. "Things are... complicated at the moment, but you two really are similar. Both very independent, with some tough times behind you and a good deal more ahead of you I'd say."
There was a pause. It wasn't an inaccurate assumption the man had made, and that made the troubled youth wonder about him even more.

"You remind me of someone too, someone who bugs the hell out of me." Mask finally said.

"Is that a good thing as well?"

"Actually, yeah. He's annoying and he beats me out at just about everything, but he's a decent guy. I sort of screwed some stuff up with him the last time we met, but I think I'll see him again." He laughed bitterly to himself and shook his head. It must have been fatigue making him think those things. Why else would he still be dwelling on the past?

"It's really stupid actually, we were fighting because of a girl he- I mean we didn't even like that much." His thumb traced the edge of that old piece of wood around his neck, it was his anchor, his security blanket. "Next time around, I'm not gonna be as useless as I was. I only screwed it up last time 'cause I was afraid that he would always be better than me, so I just gotta get better than him and things will be fine."

In a strange way, Caesar felt that he understood. That desire to prove oneself boiled his own blood from time to time. After a moment, he finished his drink and stood up to leave, wishing the strange young man a final farewell. "Good luck. I hope you patch things up con su amigo."

Mask yawned again and nodded. "Good luck with your brother too."

It was a quietly nagging thought in the back of both of their minds, a wondering as to whether they'd meet again. It seemed doubtful to both of them, as their paths had only crossed this once at random, but of course neither knew that when one of them thought of a friendly rival and the other of a distant brother, their minds were with the same person.

A strange and amazing boy named Rex.