The Iron Savior...Senior (based on comic storylines)

Chapter 8: Concidence?

He got up, admiring (or what better be) it. "This feels...thinner."

I nodded, motionting to the targets on the wall. "I thinned the metel, traded the gauge on for a longer one and gave it heavier but smaller bullets for easier killing now will you shoot the damn thing so I can give the geeks their new techno stuff?"

"I did not understand a word of that." He informed me.

I gave him a flat look. "Shoot the gun."

He did, getting the bulls eye. He looked surprised. "Wow. It's quieter."

I nodded. "Yep. I silenced the over all boom, so the impact would be more of a surprised." I looked at his hands and swore. "Fuck."

I grabbed the gun. "What?" he asked.

Grabbing the ruler, I put it to his right hand. "I made the gun to small. And trust me, getting your fingers stuck in metal hurts like a bitch."

He moved his hands away, taking the ruler. "Mason, the gun is fine." He grabbed my hands and jumped a little.

"What?" I snapped. All I wanted was to measure his hands, and now he's going to judge mine?

He shook his head. "No, I'm just surprised. Your hands aren't soft and baby like I thought they would be."

I blanched at that. "I'm a mechanic, Iron Avenger and a genius- and you thought my hands werent calloused?"

My hands weren't as rough as they used to be- I guess me being dead will soften and heal hands.

"So your not going to try and keep them that way?" I looked up, surprised I actually said that.

Grant pulled a chair from beside me, sitting down.

I shrugged. "The first time I ever played with a tool, I was 4 and got a few stiches. I wanted to be become Dad and I just...I just want them to be back to how they were." My throat closed up, stinging.

He was silent. "You guys were close, weren't you?"

I pulled up the corners of my mouth, a half heart attempt to get a ghost of a smile. "We were. For the longest time, it was the Dad and Mason age. Pep didn't really get involved until I was maybe 8 or 10. " I shook my head and got up, steching.

"Why do you care anyways?"

He looked at me, not knowing what to say. "I saw you guys on the cover of a Newspaper when I was 8. I felt bad for you at first, because I had siblings and you didn't. But I kept seeing headlines and saw you be closer to your dad then I was with any sibling."

I picked up Wheezys water dish, getting some dog food out of it. "How close were you guys?"

He settled on the chair, blue shirt (was that Tardis?) streching along his shoulders. "Closer then Winchesters." his face turned red. "I mean-"

"No one is closer then Sam and Dean are." I said.

His face immediately brighten. "I wouldn't be to sure." Then "You watch Supernatural?"

I nodded. "My favorite season is 2, even if that basically starts all the shit."

He shook his head, getting up to help me put some tools on a few benches. "No, season 4 started it."

"That guy Jake killed Sammy in Season 2. If he didnt do that then Dean wouldnt have had to sell his soul, he wouldnt have gone to Hell and break the 1st seal. Jake started the apocalypse."

He brought up his hand where blood was coming down. "Saws are dangerous."

I picked up said saw with blood drops. "No, inexperienced babysitters in my workshop are dangerous."I yawned.