Chapter Text
Isobel was not the only one who had discovered new powers in the last two weeks.
Michael had been exploring the dreamscape world ever since Caulfield. He’d made a connection with his mother before he bl— before she di— before he lost the connection.
He just couldn’t fucking handle that though so after all the shit had gone down with that bastard Noah and “Max Almighty” and A— everyone, Michael had vacuumed the bejeezus out of the bunker through the air ducts to rid himself of that nasty yellow pollen and holed up down there. Then he went walkabout.
That’s where she’d been waiting for him.
To say he was overwhelmed when he felt her presence brush up against his consciousness was kind of like saying that A— some people thought Danger! At the Picture Show was an okay band.
Michael still had a mother. He was pretty sure he’d never cried this much in his life, but he didn’t mind because they were tears of joy. Of relief. Of love. Michael still had a mother.
Her name was Mara. And his was—
“Hello, Giliath.”
“Hi, Mom,” Michael couldn’t help smiling as he entered the dreamscape that night after Mr. Scumbag’s funeral. Even after the shit day he’d had she could always make him feel better. He’d been kind of consistently buzzed for the past two weeks straight, mostly acetone with a whiskey chaser at night, but that helped him get to sleep so he could come visit his mom.
“Oh, that bad, huh?”
On the other hand, not being able to really hide his thoughts or emotions from her in here was not exactly optimal. They seemed to get amplified or something. It was a little disconcerting to say the least. He sat down at her knee. The landscape was different each time he came here. Tonight, they were stretched out on a grassy hillside under a weeping willow tree. The sky was awash in color and both moons were rising in the west as the sun dipped down below the eastern horizon.
“What? No, it was a funeral, I was appropriately sad. Sad for Izzy losing the one thing she’d been so proud of all these years. Blending in with the humans,” Michael replied.
“I wasn’t talking about the funeral.”
Michael wanted to groan but figured that was in poor taste when talking to his mother. He was still so new to even having a mother and when he’d said he wanted to be good for somebody, he meant it. He could be good for different people in different ways, right? And he wanted to be the best alien son he could be. Didn’t mean he couldn’t also play dumb. “I uh, don’t know what you’re talking about?”
She just raised an eyebrow imperiously at him which absolutely did not help because it only reminded him of—
“Yes, you do.”
“Mom”, he whined, elongating the vowel sound. Okay, so maybe he wasn’t the best alien son. Yet. But he was working on it.
“He sure is a cute one, your human. Those cheekbones alone…”
Michael’s face felt like it was on fire suddenly. “Oh my g— you did not just— what, he’s not my— Mom!” Dammit, why did he feel like he was going through puberty all over again right now?
“Well, you certainly seem to think so, I’m just going off of your thoughts, you know, no need to get so flustered, Giliath,” she said with a barely contained straight face, her eyes aglow with mischief.
“I told him no, Mom,” Michael wanted to pull his shirt up over his head and hide from her but he didn’t want to act like an actual child. He had some dignity left, surely.
“Good for you, love.”
“Wait, what? You’re not mad at me?”
“For standing your ground? No. I’ve seen the way you two look at each other,” she ran her fingers through his curls and his eyes closed of their own accord. “You two were put in impossibly difficult situations when you were far too young and had to deal with everything by yourselves, something you never should have had to do. He’s still working on himself, love, and you are, too.”
Michael hugged her calves and reveled in her warm touch. “But why do humans have to be so cruel?” He asked in a small voice.
“They’re just scared, Giliath. And people do awful things when they’re scared. But some humans know exactly what they’re doing, and those are the ones to watch out for.”
“He joined up again. He was so close to getting out. And now because of me and what I did he’s going to put himself at risk again and I don’t think I could handle it if-if he…” he couldn’t finish the thought.
“Shh,” she pulled his chin up with a slender finger under his jaw. Her eyes were shining in the twilight dusk, all purples and blues and greens, a warm breeze rustling her blonde hair. “First of all, you need to stop blaming yourself. It was never their intention to let us out of there alive. You found me. That’s the most important thing. You freed us. The others have found their way back to the Collective Consciousness. They’re with their loved ones. I’m here with you.” She placed a tender kiss on his forehead. “Secondly, your human is entrenched in the worst kind of battle there is: kin vs. kin. He’s a strong one but he’s going to need your help.”
Michael didn’t realize he was glowering until she pressed her thumb into the furrows of his brow and smoothed them out. “Why should I help him after everything his family did to us? To you?” He sounded like a petulant child at this point but he didn’t fucking care. “He tried to give me a folder full of all the horrible things they— I just couldn’t.”
“Oh, heart of mine,” she soothed as night fell, “you’ll see.”