2010-08-07: Resolution

Starring:

Micah_V5icon.png

Date: August 7, 2010

Summary:

I don't need a witness to know I survived, I'm not looking for forgiveness


"Resolution"

There's a lot that I don't know

There's a lot that I'm still learning

After rounding the corner from the hotel, Micah peeks around the building, pressing against it as the ambulance pulls up. His eyes clamp shut as he fights against the tears welling in his dark eyes. His lams press against the building. He gasps for breath, his running finally coming to an end only to recognize he needs to run again.

As the ambulance pulls away, Micah pushes off from the wall and then tightens the backpack around his shoulders. His fingers clasp the arms of the object carrying all he owns, every earthly possession he has, that feeling of loneliness creeping around him.

For the first time in a long time, he's truly alone. The technology he used so easily with the touch of his fingers no longer abiding by his rules, there's a strange feeling of insecurity that builds within him before he steps away from the curb, knowing full well he needs to find somewhere he can survive before Cam can get back in touch with him.

He needs to get to the bus station and find a ticket out of this city as quickly as possible. Hopefully the paramedics buy Cam's story, but there's no way to know. In the meantime, he needs to keep himself busy finding some semblance of life and normalcy.

When I think I'm letting go

I find my body it's still burning

The cool air-conditioned air of the bus station nips at Micah's cheeks as he waits in line weight shifting absently from one foot to the other. The station itself leaves him leery. Shifty types line its walls; strangers he can't identify with an almost automatic switch in his mind. For the first time in years he feels truly vulnerable.

Finally its his turn. Shuffling to the window, he leans forward. "Uh…" he begins as he stares at the man on the other side. "…one ticket to… wherever you're leaving for…"

"That would be New Orleans," the gruff voice cuts in as he accepts Micah's debit card — linked to the Rebel account. A paper trail. One he'd never had before.

Eyebrows furrow at the notion of New Orleans, but the teen nods. Some things just come full circle. And maybe, just maybe, he's destined to be there. Just for now, to find some sense of direction again and perhaps connect to the past and who he was before.

And you hold me down

And you got me living in the past

Come on and pick me up

Somebody clear the wreckage from the blast

Yeah I'm alive

Here, the night air is far from cool. It sticks to Micah's skin like melted candy, especially with the humidity. He'd abandoned the jacket long ago, stuffing it into his already too-full backpack before. The house is familiar; of course, it would be. He spent Christmases here. Holidays. Extended breaks. The smells, the air, the chipping paint, all of it has that edge of familiarity, but something remains amiss; he's different.

But I don't need a witness

No one sees him. In all of his difference, the house is quiet, at least through the window in which he peers. No one looks back; no one expects to see Micah Sanders standing there. As far as anyone in this house is concerned Micah is missing. Dead, maybe. He's been out of contact for a long time.

To know that I've survived

I'm not looking for forgiveness

Yeah I just need light

I need light in the dark

As I search for the resolution

His finger press against the glass as he peeks inside… a snippet of a memory flooding his consciousness along with a song that he'd played. It's been so long since he's played.

Eyes flit to the piano. He can almost feel the keys under his fingers. The looseness of middle C compared to the others. His lips twitch. The last time he was here, they all were; all of them. One happy family. It was Christmas. Absently, he frowns, sliding away from the window. An odd feeling pulls him away; he doesn't belong here. Not anymore.

This isn't his home.

With a quiet whisper, he apologizes through the window. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry for everything. I. I promise I'll… I'll just…" he glances down at the ground before silencing.

And the bars are finally closed

So I try living in the moment

For the moment it just froze

And I felt sick and so alone

In the pit of his stomach the nausea eats him, drawing him to back to the bus station to try somewhere else; some place that he can find that sense of peace he craves, particularly as his thoughts drift to his mistakes: his parents, his friends, the government… Wireless. It seems he has more failures than successes as a hero, making him a hero wannabe rather than an actual hero.

Having no signs that he's found what he's looking for, Micah shuffles backwards, going back from whence he came.

I could hear the sound

Of your voice still ringing in my ear

I'm going underground

But you'll find me anywhere I fear

A week later he finds himself in Vegas. Trying to find some semblance of self, some remainder of the Micah that was. He lost a lot of who he was in the scuffle with the government, the loss of his parents, and now the separation from Cam.

Head buried in his hands, he sits on a bench just outside the school he attended way back when. Before their lives changed so much. Before Jessica. Before Gina. Before any of it.

Impatiently, his feet shuffle as he kicks under the bench. Wriggling in his seat, his head shakes before he presses firmly on his thighs and rises to his feet.

Yeah I'm alive

But I don't need a witness

To know that I've survived

I'm not looking for forgiveness

Yeah I just need light

I need light in the dark

As I search for the resolution

Niagara Falls.

Late July.

Peaceful.

Quiet.

Not home.

For the fourth time this week he walks around the outside of the home that was theirs, lingering in front of it.

Nothing about it looks like his family. Nothing about it has glimmer, shine, or appeal. Instead, this place just makes him feel lonelier. Quieter. Emptier. And without.

Except… that noise.

In his head. Almost like a voice it rings true, but the words are indiscernible. Constantly indiscernible.

The resolution

The resolution

And you hold me down

Yeah you hold me down

Another week passed and a significant day looming, the voice has only gotten louder, but still muffled. Murmured by something he can't quite comprehend.

He hasn't tried to use his ability; no effort has been made since that night he apparently killed Wireless. What's the point?

Sitting on the bed of the hotel room he closes his eyes, longing for something he'll never have. With no bodies, no graves, and no funerals, how can he let go of them?

Yeah I'm alive

But I don't need a witness

To know that I've survived

I'm not looking for forgiveness

Yeah I just need light

I need light in the dark

As I search for the resolution

Arizona.

Early August.

The hot weather didn't keep Micah away. He came here because it had no reminiscent feelings.

The bench on which he sits is just in front of the campsite he'd managed to book for the week. Dusty. Dry. Hot. Even moreso with the road only feet away.

The dryness does its job, sucking all moisture from every inch of his skin.

Parched.

He needed something, anything. It's been weeks since he bothered trying to use his ability, especially with that disembodied voice in his head. With his mother's mental health issues, there could be only one logical conclusion in his own mind. And perhaps, somehow it was related to the loss of his ability. That hum that he hears remains low. Empty. Like a head ghost; there but not. Present, but not. He can't make out what she says, no matter how hard he pushes himself, but with an inevitable mental health issue… why try?

Staring blankly at the road in front of him, Micah twitches. He needs something. Anything.

Something to fill the void.

Something to remind himself of his lofty goals of herodom.

Or something to help him grow up.

Something.

I need life

I need life

(Lying in the dark as I search for the resolution)

Resolution

(Lying in the dark as I search for the resolution)

Resolution

(Lying in the dark as I search for the resolution)

Unless otherwise stated, the content of this page is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 License