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Michael lifts a hand to shield his face from the cold wind. It isn’t really the temperature that bothers him, only the impact of the strong wind hitting his cheeks.
It’s freezing up here and every step he takes sinks him into a foot deep of snow.
But he’s never been affected by the snow or ice before. You tend to grow used to freezing temperatures when you spend your entire life hiding away because of them. His parents discovered his odd and mysterious powers when he was only a young boy.
Michael can’t actually remember a time ever not having his powers, but he’s jealous of the younger version of himself that lived a normal life.
Although his mother and father loved him, they feared him as well. Not because they thought he was dangerous, just his uncontrollable and unexplained powers. They tried their hardest to help him learn to control them, but every attempt seemed futile.
Objects in his hands would slowly begin to freeze and become covered in frost. He could turn a floor into a skating rink without even intending to. A glass of water would turn to solid ice before he even had the chance to drink it. Some people would think it was cool, but it only showed Michael how different he really was. And dangerous.
When he was still just a child, not understanding of the dangers his powers could bring, he threw a tantrum at his parents. Screaming and demanding that he be let outside to play with all of the other children. It was winter. What could be the harm in letting him out? The other children wouldn’t think anything of a little extra snow.
His parents were sympathetic. Not arguing back and only able to watch and listen as their son sobbed. They wished more than anything that he could be just like all of the other children and have a normal life. It wasn’t fair to their child to have this sprung onto him without any reason or purpose. It just seemed as though their son was doomed to be a ‘freak’, as Michael would so delicately put it.
The argument ended when his father came forth to soothe and comfort him. Michael wasn’t having any of it and put his hands up to shove him away, but instead struck him with a blast of ice. He didn’t even know he could do that, or what it was, but seeing his father fall to the ground was the most terrifying thing he’s ever had to witness.
His mother ran to his father, desperate to see if he was okay. But all Michael could do was stare down at his hands, the monstrous things that could have easily taken the life of another.
His father was okay though, a few weeks of constant care and he was alright. No serious or permanent damage done, except for to Michael’s conscious. He really was a freak. No purpose other than to hurt and scare those that he loves. It terrified him.
He couldn’t control this awful thing inside of him that wouldn’t go away. It felt like he was a ticking time bomb, and eventually he would go off and the entire town would explode into a flurry of snow and ice.
He hated it.
He hated himself.
Somehow he lasted the rest of his childhood years. So many years of just begging and praying that he could eventually learn to control his powers. It never worked. Wearing gloves was the closest thing he had to living his life normally indoors.
The simple pair of thin black gloves sometimes felt like the only that that made him feel normal. Without them he was a destructive and unpredictable monster that could ruin everything he’s ever loved. But with them he could actually hug his own parents without the overlooming fear of accidentally freezing them to death.
But even with the gloves he still felt dangerous. He’s scared that one day the gloves won’t work anymore. Slowly his powers will become immune to them and the cold will seep through. It’s all just fear inside of Michael’s head, but the chance that his nightmares could become a reality is enough to make him come to the final decision.
He has to leave.
And that’s now why he’s walking through the middle of nowhere, only the snow covered mountains surrounding the one he’s on to keep him company.
Although exiling himself in such an extreme way will upset his parent when they realize he’s gone, it’ll be better this way. They won’t have to be constantly worrying about him or pitying the fact that he can’t just live a normal life. He had no way to harm them or anybody else out here, because he’s all alone.
Michael doesn’t regret it even as the slow fear of being on his own is starting to catch up to him. He’s never been alone like this before. His parents have always been there to protect and guide him, always to make sure that his powers don’t get out of control.
He’s willing to deal with another lifetime of solitude if it means he can’t hurt anybody else.
"Hello there!" a loud voice chirps and pulls him out of his thoughts, "What are you doing way out here?"
Michael’s eyes widen and he looks all around himself quickly. He’d been walking for hours in a single direction, there’s no way anybody else could be out here on a goddamn snow mountain with him. It just doesn’t make any sense. They’d have to have a death wish considering how cold it is.
"Up here!" The voice continues, still sounding pleasant and upbeat. Michael follows the sound to see that it’s coming from above him.
When he looks up, he sees a simple boy floating in mid-air. Not exactly level to him, just high enough that Michael has to crane his head a little in order to meet his eyes. He blinks a few times, trying to let his eyes adjust so that the probably-a-mirage can fade and he can continue on his way.
But instead the boy just continues to exist. Floating in the air with a smile on his face as he watches Michael with amused interest.
"Hi," he says, "My name’s Gavin."
Gavin. The name makes Michael furrow his eyebrows and glare at the boy. Figments of his imagination are not supposed to have names. Making up pretend friends was something he was very good at when he was little since his imagination was his only source of entertainment. But he stopped that when he was younger.
"Are you okay, mate?" Gavin asks, dropping a little in the air as the expression on his face grows worried.
Michael just continues to glare at him, stubbornly refusing to speak and humor himself into believing that the boy is real.
No way could anything other than his own brain think up somebody so physically appealing. He has hair the color of growing wheat, but the ends are frozen with ice, making them stick up slightly to keep out of his eyes. Talk about giving a literal meaning to the term ‘frosted tips.’ His clothing is just as casual as Michael’s own. No winter coats or boots to shield him from the temperature, just a simple outfit consisting of pants and t-shirt. He’s even barefoot. But the cold seems to have the same zero affect on him as it does Michael.
"Hmm, you don’t talk much, do ya’?" Gavin muses, "So, what happened? What’s your story? Run away from home?"
Michael ignores him and continues to walk forward, looking only ahead and refusing to watch as Gavin lowers himself completely to the ground and walks casually beside him.
"I’m assuming that’s a yes. So, what are you going to do? Just live out the rest of your days on these snow covered mountains? I mean, I don’t blame you, it’s a nice spot. I often come up here myself just to think. Which is actually what I was doing before you came ‘round."
This guy can really talk.
"Do you think you’ll live here forever now then? Because I have a friend named Jack that is really good at building houses. I could probably hook you up with a deal."
"Will you shut up?"
"Oh!" he practically squeals, "So you can talk. That’s good, not that you being unable or unwilling to talk is a bad thing either. I can appreciate silence just as much as the next guy. But it’s good news that you’re communicating because I was worried you were well on your way to freezing to death. Would suck a ton if you weren’t as immune to the cold as me and possessed the same abilities.”
That catches Michael’s attention.
"Same abilities?"
"Yeah, of course!" he beams, "You didn’t think I was just a simple traveler that happened to stumble upon you, did you?"
Silence passes between them as Michael tries to register the words, but the other boy’s grin doesn’t falter in the slightest. “You… You’re like me?”
Gavin smiles and hums in confirmation. He lifts up his hand and twirls around his finger playfully, a small but beautiful flurry of ice and snow dances around the air surrounding it and only comes to a stop when he puts down his hand again.
Michael can only watch with wide eyes, disbelieving that he’s actually meeting somebody with the same powers as him. He’d thought he was the only freak in the world.
That settles it, he has to be imagining Gavin. There’s no way that he’s actually meeting another person like him on a lonely mountain. But it’s nice to play along with it. It probably isn’t good for his mental health to go along with this, but at least it helps him feel less lonely.
"How did you know-"
"That you’re like this too? Who else would be crazy enough to come up here without any protective winter wear. And, I actually didn’t know for sure. I was guessing, but technically you just confirmed it."
Michael glares at him.
Gavin isn’t affected by it and instead focuses on staring down curiously at Michael’s gloves. The plain black material that covers and protects his hands from destroying everything in his path. It makes him feel self conscious and he takes a step back when Gavin moves closer toward him.
"What's with the gloves?" he questions curiously.
"None of your goddamn business."
He hums and takes the gloved hand in his. Michael’s breath hitches but Gavin ignores him, inspecting the gloves at a closer range to discover for himself the purpose of them.
"Take them off," he says, not in a demanding tone, but more eagerly.
That causes Michael to rip his hand from Gavin’s grasp and hold it near his chest. He’s positive he looks extremely paranoid and probably a little insane, but he doesn’t want to risk his gloves being pulled off. He came up here to save others from himself, not put another person in danger.
"No."
The smile drops slightly from Gavin’s face, “Why not?”
"Because I…" he trails off, unable to voice of a legitimate reason.
Maybe he’s just grown so used to the gloves that he’s been trained to think that life without them is wrong somehow. He’d only just met Gavin and he doesn’t want to do anything that could hurt him, even if it did make him shut up for a second.
"You should take them off. It isn’t like they serve any real purpose, right? They aren’t to protect you from the cold, and judging by your choice of clothing they aren’t exactly a fashion statement either," he teases.
Michael glares at him again, “Shut up. I wear them to try to contain this fucked up magic winter bullshit.”
"But why would you ever want to do that?"
"Because I’m dangerous! I don’t want to hurt people because I don’t know how to control all of this shit! I’m sick of being so different!"
Gavin eyes widen in confusion, “What’s wrong with being different?”
"Well, for one thing it leads to a life of solitude and loneliness."
"No it doesn’t!"
"Look at where we are, Gavin!" Michael practically yells, "On the top of a fucking mountain all alone. Able to make snow and ice out of thin air. That isn’t fucking normal. We’re just a couple of freaks."
Michael allows himself to calm down and tries to catch his breath after getting so worked up.
"Come on, Michael," Gavin smiles softly, "You can’t just live in fear of your own self forever. Everybody has something that they’re ashamed of or trying to hide, but you don’t have to hide this. This is good, this is what makes you unique. Being different isn’t a bad thing. Sometimes it makes you special.”
"But I don’t want to be special. I want to be like everybody else."
"People wouldn’t hate you. You don’t have to be alone."
"No, I don’t have to, I need to. If I’m around other people I’m just going to end up hurting them again, and I don’t want that to happen.”
"You haven’t hurt me yet.”
"That’s because I’ve got the gloves on."
"Well, I trust you. So take them off."
"No. Go away."
He lets out a whine and stomps his foot like a child. “Come on, Michael. It’ll be fun,” as if to prove this he waves his hand over to the side and easily conjures up a simple snowman, “Look, see! Fun!”
"I can’t do stuff like that," Michael glares, jealous at Gavin’s ability to control his powers into something amazing, "All I can do is scare and hurt people that I care about."
"I can teach you!" Gavin bounces so much that he practically lifts himself off of the ground again, but he somehow manages to keep himself within gravity’s normality, "We can be freaks together. So, do it. Just take them off and throw them away. Stomp on them and bury them deep into the ground. You aren’t going to hurt anybody, I swear."
"If I take off the gloves will you shut the hell up?"
Gavin smiles, “Yes.”
Michael glares at the boy before looking down at his hands. He’s worn these stupid things for so many years that he can’t really remember ever not having them on.
He clenches his hands into a fist, just to try and erase his nerves, before slowly pulling off the gloves from the fingers. The cold air hits his bare hands but it doesn’t bother him in the slightest. He’s more focused on the fact that his dangerous hands are now free of the only protection he’s had.
But nothing happens. There’s no instantaneous ice or snow threatening to harm either of them. It’s just his normal hands. Relief spreads throughout his entire body and he almost wants to let out a breathy laugh.
"There, that wasn’t so hard," Gavin says, and Michael feels comforted by the kind look in his eyes.
He takes a deep breath before tossing the gloves to the ground, finally feeling like he’s in control for once in his life. He’s out here able to do anything he wants, and if he wants to take off his gloves then he’ll damn well do it! Nobody can stop him, he isn’t going to become a victim to his own powers anymore.
"Yeah, it wasn’t," he agrees, genuinely smiling for one of the first times in his life. It’s been so long since he’s actually had this much freedom. It reminds him of being a young child, with no freaky and dangerous ice powers.
Gavin’s laughs out loud, giddy with excitement over how happy Michael seems without his gloves. He knew getting him to take them off would be a good idea.
"There, isn’t that better? Now, let’s try this again. I’m Gavin," he reintroduces with a toothy grin.
The smile almost slips off of Michael’s face when Gavin holds out his hand to shake. Taking off his gloves in one thing, but actually touching another person with his bare hands is another.
Michael stares at the outstretched hand, both concern and worry spilling into his head.
He’s spent so many years trying to avoid any contact with people. Even now thoughts of Gavin instantly receiving hypothermia or turning into a solid chunk of ice is enough to terrify him into never interacting with another person again.
He’s still not completely convinced that Gavin is actually real, but he also doesn’t want to risk it.
"I’m not gonna bite," Gavin teases, "Except for frost bite, but I don’t think you’ll have to worry about that."
He purses his lips in concern for a few moments, “…I don’t know.”
"Do you not want to shake my hand? Because I understand if you don’t. We have just met and all of that, so I’m still practically a stranger to you. But handshakes are usually customary between two people that have just met, right? I’m not really sure, it’s been a long time since I’ve met any new people. Most of my friends I’ve known almost my entire life. I can’t really recall shaking any of their han-“
Michael takes Gavin’s still outstretched hand in his, acting on impulse only because he really wanted the boy to shut up. But once he realizes what he’s done all he can do is stare down at their entwined fingers with wide eyes.
He’s actually touching another person. Holding their hand. He looks up at Gavin to confirm that he’s actually okay. The boy just smiles at him, amused at his worry.
The feel of Gavin’s palm against his own is gentle and soft. He can also feel the warmth in Gavin’s hands. Not temperature wise, because his fingers feel just as chilly and cold as Michael’s does.
But he can feel the genuine warmth behind them, the intention behind such a simple interaction such as a handshake. It’s like he can feel the fondness in it and the warmth from it spreads throughout his entire body.
And when he meets his eyes again, he decides that Gavin is very much real.
"I’m Michael," he murmurs.
"Perfect. I like that name. And, see, I’m still alive," Gavin grins cockily, "You can’t get rid of me that easily."
Michael rolls his eyes and lets go of his hand only to shove him back roughly into the snow.
Gavin gasps and lifts himself up, using his unexplained powers of flight to get himself up quicker. Once his bare feet are perched back onto the ground, he conjures up a snowball in his hands quickly, and then throws it directly at Michael’s face.
Michael’s laughs and does the exact same thing, ignoring all of the fresh and clean snow around him in favor of making of his own, then throws it at Gavin.
During their ridiculous snowball fight, Michael can’t help but wonder if this is what he was missing out on all of those years. Is this what it would have been like to play with all of the neighborhood kids?
"Michael!" Gavin cries when Michael actually tackles him to the ground. They end up toppling a little down the mountain, snow scattering around them, but all they can do is laugh.
But he isn’t sure if it’s just because he’s having so much fun, or if it’s finally because he’s met someone like him. Someone who understands what it’s like to have these powers. But Gavin doesn’t let them get him down, he accepts them and understands that they’re a part of who he is. And he’s willing to help Michael understand that too.
But he’s doing more than that, he’s being the first person to openly accept Michael for who he is. He doesn’t care that they’ve only just met, it’s like he’s able to see all of Michael’s bottled up emotions and he actually wants to help him open up and embrace everything that he’s ever hated about himself.
Gavin’s the first one to stand up, and he offers a hand to Michael. Being the skinny twig that he is, he actually has to lift himself off of the ground entirely in order to help Michael back up to his feet. It’s cute, it’s like he’s a small child that’s just so excited to make a new friend and wants to do everything for them.
"You know, you don’t actually have to live up here on this mountain. If you want to then it’s no problem, I’ll stay up here and keep you company if you want. But I think you’d really enjoy living with my and my friends. We live in a small and tiny village just a few miles South from here."
Michael nods. He’ll worry about things like his family, future plans, and accidentally harming Gavin’s friends later. Right now he’s just content to continue holding hands as they walk.
He doesn’t feel lonely anymore. He finally feels like he belongs somewhere, and he just wants to laugh about the fact that it’s with this ridiculous man-child who can fly and possesses the same abilities as him.
"I think you’d like them, they’re all really funny and you’d get along well with them. I mean, you’re grouchy and kind of mean, but in a charming way. If that makes any sense. But, they’d like you. I already do.”
Michael smiles, letting the boy chat his ear off and not even thinking about telling him to shut up again. Instead when there’s finally a short pause in Gavin’s words, he works in a simple, “You talk a lot.”
"Get used to it, love." he smiles cheekily in response. His eyes widen in playful horror when he sees another snowball being thrown his way. “Michael!” he cries out as he lifts his hands up to shield himself from the impact.
Michael just lets out a loud laugh again, never feeling so much relief and freedom in his entire life.