2010-03-22: The Perfect Time To Panic...

Starring:

Micah_V4icon.pngTracy_V4icon.png

Date: March 22, 2010

Summary:

…is now.


"The Perfect Time to Panic"

Tracy's Safehouse — New Jersey

A narrow, three-story house sits in the middle of nowhere, New Jersey. In actuality, it isn't far from the bustle of cities, but it seems desolate, especially on this grey day in March, the drab sky and faintly cool air making it seem like spring was just a dream.

The door is locked, the curtains of plain, Spartan design pulled shut in every window, and there is little sign of life from the driveway.

Behind the building, however, in a backyard that stretches toward a slightly snow-trimmed treeline, a young man in a sweatshirt runs around with two children, kicking a soccer ball. The older of the two, a Hispanic boy, repeatedly picks up the ball and tries to throw it at the adult. It's a weird game of soccer, if that's what it's supposed to be.

At the edge of the house, by the back door, Tracy stands very still, watching, her dark peacoat buttoned up over her frame and her long hair touched slightly by the breeze. Her gaze seems thoughtful, focused.

Down the back lane comes a dark haired figure in a black jacket and blue jeans. His steps are rushed, like there isn't time to waste, even after how long it took him to get here. He needs to empty his mind. One way or another. And then the all-too-familiar blonde woman comes into view. As usual he has that reaction — the one in his stomach, itching to know that if somehow this woman is actually Niki. She's not; the teens knows it, but the instinct is still there.

Micah sends Tracy a weak smile upon his approach. His eyes are encircled with dark lines. Something is amiss. "Tracy," is his greeting. He grins a little broader before sighing. It's been a crazy month and he's only starting to see all of it is connected. Somehow.

The approach of Micah is quickly realized by Tracy, her head swinging to watch him, and take note of his tired eyes, but she doesn't return the greeting. Yet. Instead, she steps forward and calls into the backyard with a raised voice. "Focus! Visualize it lifting and feel it. You have to let yourself feel it!"

The older boy with the ball stops before throwing it back for the man to kick, this time. Grimacing, he tosses it a small ways in the air and, cupping his hands, it floats there.

Tracy narrows her focused gaze and gives a slow, considering nod before she turns away, instinctively glancing beyond Micah, the way he came, before looking down at him. "Hey."

Micah can't help but smirk at the instructions she gives the boys. "You seem… busy," he says as he stands next to her and peers at the game the crew is playing. This isn't what he'd expected to find here. But then, he hasn't exactly been trying to keep tabs on Tracy the last few weeks. Instead, he's been, trying to put puzzle pieces together; something his teenaged brain is exhausted over.

"I'm sorry to drop in like this…"

Tracy doesn't mind the drop-in, or at least she doesn't make a comment on it; she simply turns to open the back door, striding calmly into the house. Calm might just be an illusion, given the whirlwind of things going on, the things she's trying to figure out, to work on, to stop. The back door leads into a small kitchen. "This place isn't exactly my style, but … any port in a storm." She stands behind the table, arms folded. On the table is a laptop opened to a website with a distinct blue and green logo: LANE INDUSTRIES. Tracy's voice is faintly curt, but there is legitimate curiosity and even concern in her eyes. "How can I help you Micah?"

Quietly the teen follows Tracy into the house without comment. Micah flinches at the logo and the website. In fact, there is a very momentary scowl. "You… you know about Lane Industries?" his brows furrow some before he shakes his head. "I… I have too much in my head and I can't make sense of any of it. I need to tell someone who can help me put the pieces together if any of it will be of use."

He watches her intently. "I'm not stupid, but I don't understand politics. And I think… I mean, I know… this is your thing. Maybe… maybe you can put the pieces together?"

Makes sense that even the genius teenager might need help sorting through things, given the pure scope of what's going on. Tracy accepts it and moves to sit down at the table, gesturing for Micah to do the same across from the laptop. "No harm in trying, it is what I do," she says. She's been trying, but she hasn't had all the pieces. "I know of Lane Industries. They're based out of D.C.. Most people who've worked on any defence contract in that last few years have crossed paths with them. I heard they're involved with buyers for what the Protocol's selling: us."

"You heard right… I hacked into their computers…" Micah frowns. "But it's more complicated than that! Tracy, it's much more complicated!" He runs a hand through his curly hair and shakes his head. "I told you about them wanting to control us, right? That's what the collars are for — Lane Industries made them so they could turn on and off our powers at will and dose us with different things. Something to control us… and…"

He shudders at the memory. "I hijacked a transport van with a friend and a bear. And we got what we thought was the drugs they would use to control us with, but… it made her go haywire…"

"And… there was this woman named Lilian who was responsible for my parents' deaths, but was a test subject… so I don't think she did it really or like wasn't responsible… and Thaddeus Jensen — he is all confidential and de Souza recommended him and he's working with this guy to like sell people like us… he's bad news! They paid a bunch of money to buy Peter Petrelli! AND Emily Caufield! AND… Zeta protocol — for the 15th they are going to use Lilian again… we need to find her… I can't figure out what's what… I'm so confused! AND… no, that might be everything. OH! And they have Mister Gray's friend Zelda. We need to find her. And Lilian. And stop this. But I don't even really understand what's going on!" None of this is making much sense. There's so many pieces to the puzzle.

Some of this is new to Tracy; much of it is not. Listening intently to the barrage of information, she takes the radical news the same as the old news: with focus. First things first, she lifts a hand. "Slow down," she cautions gently with a lift of her brows before addressing even one thing. "Firstly: a bear?" She squints at Micah but winds up waving it off with that same hand. Not important in comparison. She's not sure she wants to know.

"The drug. Are you sure it was for control? What… if it wasn't. They want to use people as weapons, they need something to make them go on the attack." Tracy purses her lips, jaw edging with tension as she quickly thinks over the mass amount of info. She leans in, voice suddenly dire. "You're not telling me they… have Petrelli, are you?" Again, that is. "Who's Caulfield?"

Micah sighs heavily as his shoulders slump downwards. "My friend like talks to animals and the bear helped us stop the van," Micah tries to explain as he slumps down in a chair at the table. "The guy developing the drug said it was for control — he got it to work and then just fed the AP bad information, but the one we got… it couldn't have been! It was like all over the place! Tracy, what if they're different drugs?! Or if someone just tampered with what they were doing with the drug?! Like someone wants to hurt people…"

"I don't… I don't think they have Peter. I should go visit him…" Micah's face turns pale. "What if they have him?! Then we're screwed! There's a special collar for him! It like kills him all of the time… because he can come back from that…"

"AND EMILY! Well — she possessed my … " What is Charlotte? "… Charlotte. The lady I was staying with at the orphanage in Germany. Emily is a body possessor. She can possess anyone. Why? Why would the terrorists want her? I need help putting this together so we can stop it!"

Tracy immediately looks as though she's been hit by a ton of bricks. If she was dire before, there isn't a word to express what she is now. "Micah." She gets to her feet, leaning against the table's edge as she looks down at the teenager, eyes fierce, but what's more … alarmed.

"Stop and think about it. You just said it yourself. She can possess anyone. Anyone. Any… adversary. Any government leader. Any world leader. Micah. Someone's gotta make sure Peter's still on the outside and find this Caulfield woman. We have to stop this now."

Micah stops and thinks. His eyes close as he ties these things together. "The president? They… they want to possess the President?" His eyes widen and eyebrows raise. "What if… what if it's … Tracy what if there are two drugs… like… one to control and one to…."

Now the teen feels unduly nauseated. His face pales before he runs to the kitchen sink and literally hurls while running water into it, washing down the contents of his stomach.

Tracy — at first bewildered — launches to her feet after a moment's delay. Behind Micah, she raises a hand, hesitant; cautiously, faintly reluctant despite her well-meaning intent, she lays it on his back. "I know," she says. "Micah, just— sit down, take some deep breaths, we'll figure this out." While it comes off as a command more than a reassurance, encouragement isn't completely missing. She frowns and her hand falls away. She retrieves a glass out of a cupboard near the teenager. "Start with the basics. Find everything you can on Caulfield and … Lilian, and see if you can't get in touch with Peter."

Micah relaxes some under the touch. With a slight nod, he takes a few deep cleansing breaths while slowly walking back to the chair he'd been in before. With a few more deep breaths, his colour begins to return. "Emily and Lilian." He looks up at Tracy, "Lilian Marshall. She made glass shatter. Was an early test subject and is supposed to make something happen for Zeta on April 15. I… I can keep searching."

"And Emily. She was delivered today. And she was on a camera. She possessed a cop and killed people." He twitches a little. "They labeled her KAPPA 13. Peter is KAPPA 00. Lilian didn't have a number, but Zelda does. KAPPA 03." He blinks up at her. "I … can talk to Peter. I know where he is. And… my cousin is with him. I need to visit anyways… Tracy, I need help, I'm only fourteen. Whatever they have planned for April 15 can't happen… " And there's the admission he's avoided for so long.

"You're right." Running water sounds before a glass of it is placed without comment in front of Micah. "It can't. April 15th — no way that's random. Specific date like that's gotta mean something." Tracy doesn't seem to be in the mood to it back down, and instead paces through the kitchen. Her mind is racing a mile a minute, but unlike her nephew seems to do today, she doesn't announce every synapse. But she does announce one. "I'm going to look inside Lane Industries."

The glass is gratefully accepted as Micah brings it to his lips and takes a sip. The cool water is soothing as it goes down. "It has to mean something." Biting his bottom lip, he eyes Tracy carefully, "Just make sure security doesn't find you. The collars were designed by Lane. They'll explode if they're removed without being deactivated. I have schematics for them. And I think I could deactivate them, but… I'd have to get close to anyone wearing one… I mean close enough to touch it. The chances of that happening seem slim." He takes another deep breath and sips at the water again. "What are you going to look for?"

"You tell me Micah, you were the one in their computer system." Tracy drifts to the edge of the table by her abandoned chair. "I won't get caught. No one'll see me." She raises a hand — it alters into water, the rippling shape of her hand spilling onto the table until it solidifies. "You can't put a collar on water."

"Right," Micah nods a little. "I bet my friend Molly could find Zelda if Mister Gray has a photo of her. And then maybe we'll know where to find her and Lilian Marshall… if they're together… and maybe she can find Caulfield…" His eyebrows furrow. "Assuming she's willing to help still."

"I guess, I need to go visit Peter." He nods a little. "We'll stop them. We have to." It's not really resolve, there is no other option.

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