His mother was right; he didn't like it but he learned. There was nothing he could do to take it away forever, so the only way to stop it was to learn how, and his mother wouldn't teach that to him unless he learned the rest too. He thought it was a cruel kind of lesson, but he wasn't surprised anymore. After a while, he learned to sleep soundly again without fear of bad dreams, and that was worth something, he supposed.
He didn't tell Heat. What could he say? Heat was still waiting to manifest, and to him the very idea of powers held all the promise in the world. Reaper envied him; he knew what he was getting into and he could afford to be excited about it. Fire was scary, and given the choice, it wasn't what Reaper would have wanted himself, but fire was simple. Fire didn't have strange rules and didn't wake you in the middle of the night to terrify you out of your mind.