Mean As A Snake [Sean]

[Jesse Adams]

The way Jesse operated, unfortunately, was a learned behavior, instilled in him at a very young age. He’d been taught that the way to the top was paved with intimidation and stepping on people. And Jesse had been programmed long ago to fight his way to the top. It didn’t apply in school so much, but that was born out of a general disinterest, and a bit of rebellion. His father didn’t even want him at Hammel. He didn’t really buy the whole “powers” thing. Too bad for him.

Consent. Jesse snorted and avoided Sean’s gaze. “That’s bullshit.” Blunt, as usual. He knew the rules. “Treat others as you want to be treated,” and all that. It really was bullshit in his mind. He didn’t like the idea of someone else being in his head, that much was true. But that didn’t stop him from using his abilities on others. It was a bit of an odd view of things, but it worked for him.

The blonde blinked. Spiderman. The old man seriously just quoted Spiderman. “If you’re reducing this to comic books, why do the villains get to do whatever the fuck they want with their powers, then?” Childish, yes, but a valid point. He just wanted to get the hell out of here. “Look, that’s fuckin’ bullshit. All of it. My abilities are like… programmed for what I use ‘em for. That ain’t my fault.” He actually had a sneaking suspicion he could do a great deal more damage with his nightmares than he was currently doing, if he trained hard enough. Of course, he could probably do the opposite, and heal, or some fluffy crap too. He just didn’t want to.

[Dr. Sean Neville]

Sean met Jesse’s eyes steadily during his little tirade. He would be a challenge, but he was also up to the task. He had to be, because he and Jesse’s trainers stood between the rest of the world and Jesse’s sadistic attitude. The boy could not be allowed to win this. But Sean also realized that with his attitude, this would be an uphill battle, and they would have to meet often. He prepared himself for that, while replying to the boy’s profane points.

“Villains lose. Their behavior can’t be tolerated because it’s inherently wrong; everyone has to take responsibility for his own actions. This is why people as large as I am don’t have automatic control of the world government. Villains lose and they – you – will be stopped. Allow me to make this perfectly clear to you, Jesse. If powers are programmed to be used, and beyond the moral control of those who possess them, then you will have to contend with Mister Kilbourne controlling you, with Miss Vasiliev denying you access to your powers, and with me. And I promise you that my awareness of consent is the primary reason that you even remember having powers. Whittle that away, and you can spend the rest of your life in a fugue state.”

Sean had learned quite early that personality was shaped by memories; if one changed enough memories, one had a new person on one’s hand. It was a particularly distressing and potentially sinister form of controlling another person, one he was loathe to engage in unless absolutely necessary. However, he could not, would not, allow Jesse to unleash his sadistic whims on the world without some form of counterbalance. He would hope that it proved unnecessary in the end, but now the boy knew potential consequences.

His lips curled upward in an utterly humorless smile, and he scribbled a few notes to himself, before looking back up at Jesse and deliberately meeting his eyes. His voice remained even, but he was firm to convey the seriousness of what he had to say, and that there would be follow-up and repercussions. “Twice per week, you will have sessions with me. I’ll determine a medication schedule, if traditional methods of anger management and therapy fail. Then, on medication days, you’ll receive your doses in my presence so I can monitor you personally. Push me, and it will become three times each week.”

“Welcome to a long association, Jesse; I’ll see you on Wednesday.” He made a dismissive gesture with his hand. “You’re free to return to class now. And keep your hands to yourself.”

[Jesse Adams]

Jesse wasn’t used to people not bending to his will. It was one of the many reasons he disliked Sean. He wasn’t giving in, and, like a spoiled child, Jesse was going to rebel against that. The rest of the world be damned, he wanted to win this battle. For the sake of his pride, if anything. He wasn’t going to go down without a fight, and he wasn’t afraid of fighting dirty.

Was the teenager really so wrong in thinking that perhaps, society was just a little skewed on the subject of right and wrong? Maybe the villains were the ones that needed help. Maybe it was a cry for help. ... Okay, that was bullshit, too. The villains were there because they wanted to be bad. Jesse identified with them in more than one way. But the threats Sean was now issuing was making him antsy. Not in the ‘oh no, I should straighten up and fly right’ sort of antsy, but something different. His temper was flaring up, just a bit. But he knew enough to know that an outburst would only land him with his powers stripped and his mind in full out shut down mode. Something he’d rather avoid, at this point.

Instead of snapping back at the threats, Jesse just glared in a hateful manner, his fists clenching. His teeth bit down on his lip, and he felt the silver ring push back against the pressure. He was angry. Anyone could see it. But sometimes, he knew better than to snap, no matter how badly his temper was flaring. The threats were effective, only in that they encouraged the blonde to keep his mouth shut. For now.

The idea of losing his power for good did not fly with Jesse. He had to find a way out of this. Preferably not through behaviour modification. He liked who he was. And this shrink wasn’t going to change that. He was resourceful. He could find a way out of this. Even if it involved running away from the institute. He could train on his own. Somehow. But he would find a way to get out of this.

Curiosity begged the teenager to ask what Sean was writing. He had the feeling it wasn’t good, whatever it was. And he was still trying to concentrate on keeping his mouth shut, simply for the sake of self preservation. The last thing he wanted was Kilbourne and Vasiliev down here. But what Sean said made him reconsider. What the fuck? Twice a week? The anger flared in his gaze again. Son of a fucking bitch. “Whatever. Fuck you.” Screw that. He already had plans to skip Wednesday. Perhaps all of Wednesday. Go hang in Pilot Ridge, or something. Just get as far away from the school as possible. He left the office, slamming the door behind him.