PART 1
Time passed without a care, and that was fine because Michael didn’t care either. He was first taken to the hospital where he spent most of his time sleeping while the old wounds on his foot and hand healed back up again. Or so he was told, it felt good not having to pay attention. Not to worry.
He was released a couple of days later.
The ride home took a long time. His parents tried talking to him, but he was groggy and in a daze. It felt like he hadn’t rested for years, so now he couldn’t get enough of it.
Still, half-way there, he woke up to his parents arguing. It was a heated conversation concerning Michael, and what had happened.
“You’re always saying not to protect him. Not to coddle him. To let him make his own choices.”
“That’s what we should do,” his father said, impatiently.
“Is it? He almost died! And not just once, Mark. A lot of times. And that poor girl…”
Michael pretended to be asleep. It was better than getting involved and having to answer questions. To answer for what he did.
“These’re crazy times for the whole world, Sonia. Griffin’s insane and–”
“Stop it,” Michael said, despite what he had decided.
His mother turned around in her seat, to face him.
“Michael…you were listening?”
There were more important things than their argument.
“Just…it’s Kaneda. He can hear you talk through your phones.”
They both glanced down at their thighs, surprised.
“How do you know?” His father asked, appalled.
“We all know the systems are in place to listen in, dad,” Michael said, sitting up straight. He really didn’t want to face the judgmental questions that were coming right after those functional ones, much as he might deserve them, but he certainly couldn’t let them badmouth Griffin like that. “So he can technically do it. I dunno if he is, but it’s the only way Griffin could have known we were going to try and stop him.”
“I thought your friend Walter was the problem,” his mother said.
“Griffin sent him because he guessed we were going to try something,” Michael said. “He did know I cared about the Energetic Avenger, he saved Matt and John. That’s probably why he had him listening in…Kaneda.” Michael shook his head regretfully.
Sighing, he bowed his head again. “I really…I’m really sorry.”
“Son, an apology loses its impact every time you repeat it.”
Ashamed, Michael cowed and leaned back.
“Mark,” his mother complained, but his father shrugged.
“I’ve heard it a hundred times, I get it. Why don’t you try saying what you’re sorry for, Michael.”
In response, he could but let out a soft, searching breath as he failed to find words.
“I…I just…”
He glanced at his mom and noticed she was about to let him off, but his father cleared his throat before that could happen.
“Yes?”
“I’m…sorry I hid my intentions from you. It was a big deal, and I should’ve talked to you.”
“That is a good start,” his father said, compassionately. “What else?”
“C’mon, dad,” Michael pleaded. “It’s obvious. I shouldn’t have done it. I got…she’s dead because of me.”
“Is it obvious?” His father asked, and Michael sensed his eyes were being summoned. He knew where to look and met his father’s stare in the rearview mirror.
“I think it is, I mean. I almost died.” Michael gulped. “Ellie died,” he said in a low voice.
“Oh honey,” his mother called, reaching out for him.
“This is hard, Michael. On the one hand, we don’t want to see you hurt. Goes without saying, we don’t want to see you in any kind of danger.”
Michael saw his mother bite her lip in unspoken agreement, grabbing on to his father’s hand in an effort not to break his stride. His father continued to talk.
“On the other…” His father was struggling. Michael had never witnessed that happen, even if common reason would indicate that it did. He was struggling to say something he knew he should but didn’t want to. Struggling to do the right thing, Michael sensed. “Do you remember a long time ago, Michael. You asked me why we sinned in the first place.”
Michael raised an eyebrow. His parents hadn’t given him a religious speech in a long time. Before he could remember what had been the last time, his father continued.
“He’s perfect. God made us perfectly, and then we rebel to the point we need to be destroyed. How does that make sense? Remember that?”
Michael racked his brain. Theological understanding was so far away from where his mind was at that he had trouble even remembering the question, let alone what the answer had been. His face frowned, and his mother gave him a sad smile.
“A good decision does not guarantee good results. Definitely not immediate ones. That’s what we can learn from that.” Michael saw his mother bow her head in pain, and then was urged to look at the rear-view mirror again, to face his father’s meaningful glare. “Another way to look at it is that, simply put… failure doesn’t mean you didn’t do the right thing.”
His mother squeezed Michael’s hand and let go, visibly putting a lot of effort into staying out of that moment. Swallowing dryness, she turned around to sit properly. “Lie back down, sweety,” she said instead, compassionately. “Rest.”
“And think about what I said,” his father said, looking back at the road. “We’ll talk again later.”
Michael did want to lie down. He was shocked. Either he was crazy, or his father had practically told him he and his friends had done the right thing.
Was that was he was saying?
Michael’s eyes drifted ahead to look out the window and think.
His father had referenced genesis and one of the big questions Michael had had about the whole concept of Adam and Eve sinning, back then. Real or not, what did that story say about the perfection of God that he created humanity, which had in turn brought about untold devastation and destruction? All of it unjust and evil. Sinful.
So in a way, the question was why God had created evil.
Usually, Michael would have dismissed it all, but this was his dad asking him to think about it. He had to believe that somewhere down that train of thought was something which would make him feel better.
Now that he was not falling asleep, that was the best he could hope for.
Mach 