Kerosene. Cooper always came home smelling like kerosene. Is was ingrained in his skin, perfumed his clothes. The smell absolutely refused to wash off of him. It was something that seemed to follow him everywhere. He never told anyone why. William Cooper never told anyone about the obsession. The need that tingled just under his skin. His delight when he had his job to use as an excuse. Excuses don't last forever though.
Cooper's been away from the Agency for three months when Frank Moses and the others manage to track him down somewhere in the mountains of South Dakota. It was winter. The best time for his work, he thinks. The light just seems to dance so prettily across the snow. Frank and Marvin manage to sneak up on him. They give themselves away, actually, but Cooper doesn't feel the need to point that out.
The moment Marvin tries to touch him, though, that was the end of ignoring them. Before he can even realize it, Cooper has his customized 9mm Glock to Marvin's forehead. He had seen the crazy man's hand creeping for his lighter and, well, that's just not something Cooper can have. Frank talks to him slowly, trying to get him to let Marvin go. Marvin actually looks scared, and Cooper supposes that something in him has finally snapped pertaining to his natural talent and that it must show in his face.
Frank asks what's wrong with him. Cooper tells him that nothing's wrong. He just hasn't felt this kind of freedom in years. He has no one to go home to. His wife left him and took the kids when she finally decided that his job and lifestyle was too dangerous. He loves his kids, don't get him wrong, but he doesn't even see them anymore. No point in just living with a normal 9 to 5 job. Not with the things he knows. The things he's seen.
Marvin wants to know why the hell he does it and Cooper can't formulate a reply right away. He explains it the best he can. He tells them about the tingling, the need. The voice in his head telling him how to get away with it. He tells them about every urge he's ever acted on. And while he rambles on he looses himself in the beauty of it all and Frank manages to get his gun away from him.
Cooper doesn't mind that he's unarmed. It's a relief actually. A weight off his shoulders. Leaves his hands free for the Zippo lighter in his hands. He flicks the lighter open and closed and tries not to get wrapped up in the action. Frank sends Marvin back to the van and approaches Cooper. The ex-agent doesn't feel a bit frightened though. He lets Frank wrap is hand around his wrist and tug him back to the van.
The blonde woman, Victoria, his mind supplies, is waiting with a medical kit. She treats Coopers injuries. She's rather gentle for a woman so skilled in killing. She asks him about his family as she works and even though he doesn't answer she still chatters happily away. A Russian man watches him from the front seat as he converses with Frank in some kind of Slavic language. Cooper's too wrapped up in the lighter in his hand to really care to decipher the words.
They take him back to their base, a house only a few minutes away. Apparently that's how they tracked him down; they could seethe results of his work from their balcony. Cooper doesn't regret it though; he never does. Victoria escorts him though the house, a small hand wrapped around his arm as she guides him to the kitchen an Frank begins to pull food out of the fridge.
He doesn't object when they feed him, or when Victoria forcefully insists that he down a few pain pills, but he draws the line when they try to take his lighter. He doesn't try to take their guns, Cooper says, they have no right to take his lighter. Frank concedes and leads his to one of the spare bedrooms. He gives Cooper clothes he can wear for the night and still Cooper has no objections. Just before he leaves, Frank asks why he does it. Why he burns things. Why he feels the need to set things aflame and watch them wither away to nothing.
And Cooper can only come up with one truthful answer.
"Because I don't know how not to burn."
