[hr][h1][i][color=Gray]Quentin & Cassius Taylor[/color].[/i][/h1][hr]

Working for NEST was tiring, especially given recent events and after a long day out Quentin wanted nothing more than to grab a shower and a cool drink to wind down, maybe refresh himself with another session of Terminator. Heading back home, he was just about to twist the key in the door to his apartment when he realised it wouldn’t turn any further. “Huh,” he muttered, fiddling with the handle. Oddly enough, it opened. Quentin quickly paused, looking over his shoulder, then listened carefully for any noise coming from inside. Nothing, though the kitchen light was on.

Silently drawing a pistol out from beneath his jacket, he slowly stepped inside, wedging the door open to avoid alerting anyone who might’ve been inside. He hugged the wall, weapon at the ready - these fuckers wouldn’t get the drop on him this time. It was only when he spotted the faint reflection in the window across the room that he recognised the old man.“Oh, fuck-” He quickly holstered the gun back under his jacket before he was noticed. “Cass? How’d you get inside?”

“You don’t call for months and that’s how you want to say hello?” Uncle Cassius had helped himself to a bottle of coke out of the fridge and had an eyebrow arched as he grilled his nephew. “Yeah, yeah, it’s good to see you, but - you didn’t answer my question.” Cass snorted, amused at his nephew’s apparent short-term memory and dangled a blank key above his coke. “You forgot you gave me a spare? Nevermind. I know you’ve had a lot going on, working for NEST takes its toll, just like my work, huh?”

Quentin didn’t even care about how Cass had found out - probably through one of his well-informed colleagues in the VPD if not by himself, but the look on his face told that he’d not expected it. [i]No point hiding anything now, it seemed.[/i] He grabbed a beer from the fridge, pulled up a chair and popped the cap off with a firm twist and almost broke it in half in the process. Shit, he’d forgotten his own strength lately. “And you know about what I am? Did you ever figure out I was one of them?” Cass took a moment to answer that, swigging from his own bottle for a brief moment.

“....I don’t know. I heard rumours but I didn’t want to believe any of it. It was a different time back then, y’know? NEST, metahumans, it was all new and frightening to people back then. People didn't understand it like they do now. Look, Quentin, I wanted you to have control over your own life and make your own decisions. Why the hell’d you think I was so rough on that punk who had you working on the corner when I found out what happened to your mom?”

Quentin swilled from his bottle, shrugging. “Guess it didn’t make much of a difference in the end. The alternate to joining NEST would’ve probably been worse. Besides, I guess I get a couple benefits out of it. The pay’s pretty good for what it is and it saves a lot of legal legwork.” 

“Like weapon permits?” Cass snorted with amusement. “I’m almost jealous. Remember when Dwight tried getting that StG Fourty-Four grandfathered in whilst searching through his old man’s attic?” It’d been a while, but Quentin vaguely remembered Cass’ old partner who’d often stopped by and headed to the range with him for some downtime every other week. “Yeah, a real shitshow,” he chuckled “How’s he doing, by the way?”

“Still working at the academy as a training officer. Actually, we’re meeting up at the range next weekend to pit his P08 against my C96 to try and end our career-long argument over which is better.” Both of them chuckled at that one. “Shit, when’s the last time we spoke like this? Just a good, long conversation, man-to-man. I just wish your brother was here, too. I know you and Reed have your differences but he's still your family-” 

Quentin was quick to cut him off. “I've tried enough times to settle shit with him yet he's always got that judgemental tone. Look, Cass - I've always been grateful for when you took us in. I know it wasn't easy - but he was too young to understand that I was the one who practically raised him whilst Mom spent her last days in and out of consciousness. [I]I'm[/i] the one who made sure he was fed and clothed whilst half our money was blown on booze. [I]I[/i] at least brought [I]something[/i] to the table. It’s convenient for him to act self-righteous when he’s never had to deal with any of that shit-”

It was Cass’ turn to cut in. “That’s not true. You know he means well, even if he doesn’t always show it. But... yeah, you’re right. He never had to deal with that and I’m grateful that he was too young to remember any of it now. No kid should have to go through that shit, nevermind hold the weight of it above his head like you did.” He finished up his coke and left the empty bottle and the table as he drove his palms into his knees to stand up. “Look, I’ve gotta head back out soon but think on what I said.” As he approached the exit, he arched an eyebrow. “I assume you’ve seen the news - or checked the report - about that little ‘incident’ on the beach?” Quentin was no fool. “Yeah.” Cass nodded. “Just remember that Reed has things on his own plate, too. Don’t forget that and don’t forget us, either.” With that, he bid his nephew farewell and headed back out into the night.