Starring:
Date: March 3, 2010
Summary:
Hope is like a wish. Wishes don't come true.
"Hope Is Like a Wish"
Battery Park — NYC
It's just after lunchtime in Battery Park. It had been a hub of activity only a little earlier. Micah likes it here. It's a pretty park and it's a different meeting spot than last time. The Rebel drums his finger on the bench where he sits humming quietly to himself. It's been a few days since the 'rescue' of Jason Graham and his awesome monkey, but Micah hasn't settled much since then. No, he's been busy making plans. Being more aware of what the Protocol is doing is enough to leave him unsettled and determined to gather the troops.
Tracy looks out across the waterfront and its view of New York Harbor as she approaches, but her focus is quick to hone: she takes a straight line to Micah, from behind, spying his head of curls and approaching the bench. She's dressed much the same as she was during heir last meeting, in black, though this time she has a pair of sunglasses and, with the evasive hints of spring in the air, her peacoat's buttons are undone and atop a pale grey shirt. No smile greets the teenager, another similarity with their last encounter. All she does is move quietly around the bench and sits down next to him.
"You're not… nice, are you Tracy?" Micah avoids using the word aunt on purpose. He shrugs a little before he unzips his own black coat. "Just so you know, you're nothing like mom. I actually can't understand why anyone would mistake you." He shrugs while pursing his lips together. "We rescued that guy I told you about. He's…" Odd? Different? Strange? All are descriptors that come to Micah's mind, but instead he chooses a more diplomatic word. "…safe. But there's probably more like him. Working on the formula."
Maybe she isn't nice. "Nice" isn't exactly a word that's been used to describe Tracy in the past — certainly not in her career. Beth is a recent exception. Looking over at Micah, she notes the difference in perception between he and the girl with a small frown. Hurt? Not exactly; only thoughtful. "Hello to you too." Never mind that she was the one who sat down without saying hi. "You're right, I only get mistaken for your mom because I look like her," she says before planting her hands on her knees and leaning stiffly against the back of the bench.
Tracy has a number of things to say during this little meeting, but she follows Micah's subject lead for now. "What're you gonna do with him?"
"Give him a new identity, I think," Micah says with furrowing eyebrows. "I'm not sure yet. He's staying with … " and then deciding he shouldn't reveal too much he's as cryptic as ever "… a hero." He shrugs again as he sighs heavily. "It always seems like we're a step away from total trouble. Even with him safe, we're close to trouble. There's always something else. But at least we make progress, you know?" He arches his eyebrows.
Tracy's eyebrows arch as well, but her expression is more skeptical. Has progress been made? In the end, and a purse of her lips later, she nods to Micah's assessments. "Speaking of trouble…" she starts off quietly, a monotone murmur. "I found a place— somewhere safe enough for now." Didn't she have no access to funds just recently? "Decided staying wherever you are isn't the best idea. That man — Sylar…"
"You're one to judge. It's not like you bothered to tell me you were alive until you needed my help," Micah quips back. "Look. I'm an orphan. And I'd rather not hurt more people I care about," namely Molly and Cam, "and I have enough freedom to get done what needs to be." And then with a sigh he adds, "Mister Gray saved me. And I made a promise to help him. Promises mean something to me. They meant something to my family; there are some things a person has to honour. And I honour my word."
"He saved you… After he took you and used you as bait." Change the circumstances around slightly and it feels familiar. On that note, Tracy goes on to admit: "I know I'm not one to judge." To her credit, she doesn't even sound defensive. "But… I mean, if the guy's some kind of serial killer who … steals people's abilities…" she trails off, not entirely understanding the concept and certainly not comfortable with the notion of learning firsthand.
"Maybe he's changed, or maybe you oughta look out for yourself now 'n' then, Micah. 'M' not… saying to take a page out've my book… " She knows. It's spoken cynically. She hasn't been the epitome of selflessness and generosity, save for a brief few shining moments. Tracy shakes her head with a faint sway of blonde. "You're a smart kid, you'll figure it out."
"You baited me. You caught me and Cam without finding anything about what you were doing! And yeah, he has changed. He… looked out for me after I crashed a car he risked himself and rescued me from them at the hospital. You don't know what happened; you weren't there." Micah cringes at the memory. He electrocuted agents. On purpose. That still haunts him.
"I already have it figured out, Tracy. Sometimes people do bad things in bad circumstances. Yeah, he kidnapped me. But… they took the one person in the world who mattered to him. And unlike you, I know what that feels like." Micah begins to rise from the bench. "They killed my parents. It's the truth. Thanks to a new ally, I know that now. And while it's my fault… they.. pulled the trigger and made that building fall. They didn't think about who it would hurt."
He narrows his eyes at Tracy. "You think you know what you're talking about, but you don't. They literally took everything from me. My parents. My home. My freedom. My cousin." Conveniently, Micah doesn't mention that Monica is now free. "My childhood. And any innocence I could've claimed. I want justice. And if Mister Gray is going to help me get it…" he shrugs.
Though Micah elicits a few flashes of anger with his barbed words (otherwise known as the truth), Tracy doesn't seem to have it in her today to argue at every turn. Instead, she's quiet; stoically so, but it doesn't last. She looks down for a moment, seeming to consider, before leaning ahead ever-so-slightly and looking up at him, hair spilling off the squared shoulder of her coat.
"Then… I hope you get it, Micah." Tracy may not smile, but in a way, her eyes do; there's sincerity in those blue eyes that usually hold a very different spirit than that of Micah's mom. While still very different, Tracy is being genuine. "I'm sorry," she says quietly; after a fleeting pause, she finishes, "about your parents. You obviously had more to lose…" She lost all she knew. Her normal life, her career, but what's all that compared to what Micah lost?
Clasping her hands together, her brow furrows, moving into dark territory as she decides now is the moment to clarify her own stance on losing everything all the same. The woman's voice is fraught with emotion that's normally reigned in. "But you should know— that night on the roof when I told you to run… even if that agent hadn't shot me… Micah, I didn't know that I'd come back."
"I used to hope for things. But a hope is like a wish, and in the real world, wishes don't come true," Micah says levelly. "I can't cling to hope anymore, justice is more than that. It's all of the fight and determination I have left in me. And I'd rather die fighting for justice than let all of this go." He shrugs a little at Tracy. "Beta Protocol killed them. And would've killed Cam and I too…" and then with a small scoff-like sigh he observes "…and it makes me angry. But the cherry on the sundae is the fact I'll never know. There was no funeral. I never saw the bodies. I can't make myself believe they're dead no matter how many times Molly can't find them. No matter how many times I look through the satellite images and search. And I was there. But I can't make myself believe it, even if somewhere in my mind I know it's true."
He purses his lips together as he takes a step away from the bench. "Even if you didn't know you didn't find me." Beat. "But I don't need your pity. There are people looking for me. People who actually care. I just can't let them get hurt. I can't lose more."
After unclasping her hands, Tracy gets to her feet to tower slightly over Micah — but at least she's not looking down her nose at him. "I know," she admits gently, glancing away, down once more, momentarily disgraced by the things he says, reminding her of her conscience. "I don't have an excuse for not looking for you." And by the sound of it, she's not proud of that fact and is waiting impatiently for Micah to stop reminding her of her character flaws. She got it the first time around. Frowning at him openly, she adds, "I was dealing with— you know, I don't… really want to talk about it. Look," her brows lift, "fight with whatever you have. I'm— trying."
This would be a bad time to ask about her accounts, then…
Hastily, Tracy starts to turn away. "I should go.
"Fine. I've gotten used to you disappearing. You're really nothing like her," Micah says coolly. And for an instant his eyes glisten before he shakes his head again. "I'll be in touch soon. I'm gathering people like us. If we're going to stop them, we need to break people out of wherever they're being held and we need to do it soon. Gra — our contact — isn't the only biochemist they had on staff. That means… we need to act fast. They might already have this control stuff made…"
"Goodbye Tracy." That said, Micah begins to trudge away, shaking his head at his own naivety. Sometimes he wonders how he could've been so stupid. Silently he longs for the days when his mom beat up the bullies when his only problems were public humiliation. That was so easy compared to this.
Tracy very nearly snaps back a reply — she is poised to do so, in fact — but cuts herself short. It's not worth another butting of heads with the genius fourteen-year-old, she decides, and so she forgoes saying what's on her mind, considerable statements though they may be. "Bye, Micah," she calls out — not exactly cheerful, but pitched slightly as if she made an attempt at enthusiasm and fell short. Sighing, she offers a dismissive shake of her head her own head to the boy's retreating form and moves off in the opposite direction.