Starring:
With special guest appearance by Ursula Beeches
Date: October 24, 2009
Summary:
Even Heroes have a bed time.
"Welcome to the Teen Years"
Orphanage, Germany
It's approximately six in the morning local-time at the orphanage where Micah is staying, but only midnight in New York. Most of the orphanage is still silent as the orphans and caregivers continue their slumber from the night, but Micah has been up since two, working away on his computer. He'd got up before the proposed rescue-time and had been tapping into the satellite feeds long before the adults actually went to take down the train.
He'd have worked in his room except he didn't want to wake Cam and so he works in a sitting room of sorts. He's laying on the couch, his laptop propped up on his bent legs. His cheeks are extremely flushed, his skin hot to the touch, and his darkly encircled, tired eyes are wide with a near look of horror. It's not the glazed-over expression he gets when playing video games too long. This is different entirely.
"You know," an old, crackly voice, laced with a German accent, says from behind Micah. The thump, thump, thump of a cane methodically tapping on the floor while a person walks can be heard as well. She walks right past Micah to ease herself down painfully on an easy chair across from him. "I do not sleep much anymore, but this is because I am old, and have pain." She sighs as she's finally comfortable, looking over at the boy. "Pain you will have if you stay up all night staring at a screen."
Uh-oh. Busted. Maybe. Eyes shift away from the screen towards the familiar German voice, that same wide-eyed horrified expression in Micah's eyes. His lips curl downward involuntarily into a frown. Quickly Micah slams the laptop shut. "I-I wasn't… I didn't… Frauline… I only just… just woke up. Time zones and all." He still clutches his cell phone. And clutches his laptop to his chest. If she decides to open it, the satellite images are long gone, and Zombie Killer XI is loaded on the screen. His eyes are still wide.
She doesn't change, her face remains stoic, but her voice becomes lower. "Boy I've walked past this room three times, you've been here a very long time. Do not try and fool me." She nods, once her point has been lowly made, her voice resumes it's natural…pluck, perhaps? At least it seems a bit lighter. "Charlotte says you are smart, yes? This is true?"$e
Eyes are narrowed at the German woman as Micah considers her. "Really? I didn't think I'd been up that long.." He shrugs a bit, "I'm advanced for my age. So… I guess so?" He shrugs again. At least she's not yelling at him or anything.
The Frauline leans forward, tapping her fingers lightly on her cane. "Then you know that it is important that all boys follow the rules. Not following them could lead to lots of problems for everybody." She nods once more, sitting back. Still, some glint flashes in her eyes, some taste of mystery, something interesting. "What is so important that a smart boy must be up at all hours? It is not anything he could not do in the day, unless…I wonder what time it is in New York…"
Micah nods a little and uncomfortably shifts on the couch. "I follow the rules ma'am. I would've stayed in my room, but I didn't want to wake Cam." He really should have told Cam, then this conversation could be avoided. "Um… just couldn't sleep. Happens sometimes. Too much… thinking." His cheeks flush further at the mention of New York but that could easily be dismissed as nothing. His tone is non-chalant, "Honestly, past my bedtime." He flashes her a forced smile."
The Frauline nods - weather or not she belives him isn't easily discernable, but at the very least she seems to be willing to follow the train of conversation. "And what is it you are thinking about, then, that will not let you sleep, or lay in bed trying to sleep?" She sits back, groaning softly, trying to get a bit more comfortable. "Really ought to hire a maid or something…."
"The same things I always think about," Micah answers easily. "Promises. Life. Getting chased. How we got here." And then he adds with a mischievous smirk, "Molly…" The smirk fades into a frown, "Family." He swallows and shrugs again. "Things that keep me up."
The Frauline nods. "All good things to think about during the day. It is a pressing thing that keeps a boy with such bags under his eyes awake. And you are sick - or will be, I can tell from here." The woman's eyes narrow, scruitinizingly. "I think it is too much computer. Overly-fancy contraptions." She pauses, tapping her chin as she looks over him. "You think much of other people, but you must remember that by thinking of yourself too, you are helping other people who are helping you. And you must remember that, in this house, there is a time to think of others. But when that time is over, you think of yourself. Do you understand?"
Does she know? "I feel fine," he lies. His face is hot with fever. He's pushed himself further than ever before today. Even now his eyes are starting to feel heavy. "Computers aren't bad. And I wasn't like typing and stuff," he counters. "Just playing a game." Micah wrinkles his nose, but nods slightly at the idea of helping himself. "I'll try, Frauline."
She stares at him, her voice going low and serious again. "You look like shite," she informs him. "And I will hand over my left foot to the Gestapo if you can prove me otherwise." She's old, and therefore allowed to use dated references. "To make you look like that, it is not a game. It is very real. Now, you are going to leave those things," she points to the computer and phone with her cane, "here with me. I expect you'll be spending all day tomorrow in bed anyway."
And now the objections begin, Micah leaps to his feet, "But Frauline I need them!" She doesn't know how important it is that he has access to these things! But after a few seconds of standing, the boy wearily returns to a seated position. "You can have the laptop… I won't play anymore. Done for today. I promise." And then he purses his lips together, "But the phone… I can't do anything with it anyways." Lying is becoming all too easy. He hasn't owned up to his ability to anyone here (except Molly and Cam who already knew). "It's not a fancy cell phone, no games. I promise not to play on it. Scout's honor."
"I do not care what you promise. What good is any of this…" she gestures to his electronics, "…if you cannot even hold your head up? Besides, you have no need for them." She holds out her hand, waiting for him to hand the items over. "Unless there is something more you should be telling me. If there is not, then you must hand them here and go to rest and I shall decide when you are well enough to have them again."
"Fine," Micah sputters through a clenched jaw. He'll just pilfer some other kid's cell phone to warn Peter's contacts. He purses his lips together as he studies her. He drops the cell phone and just frowns, but despite his apparent anger and irritation, he can't suppress the yawn that escapes his lips.
Frauline takes the items and sets them aside. She smiles as he seems angry. "Whatever it is you are hiding, you must remember that we are all hiding here. Exisiting alone on an island is a very dangerous thing. It makes an island very difficult to live on, especially if you do not trust those you are with." She nudges her head. "Now you go upstairs. Tomorrow, I imagine, you'll spend all day in bed. Once you are better, we'll talk again."
Eyes are narrowed at the Frauline, but Micah says nothing; his expression says it all. He stands to his feet and stomps upstairs to his room.