Saying Michael Guerin was difficult at first would have been an understatement. He'd been through a foster home that left him with new scars and even less affection for humans. He'd learned how to talk while he was there, but it was difficult to tell, since he was withdrawn and all but silent, resentment all over his expressive face over every little thing. He snuck out repeatedly to try to get to the siblings he could feel but not see, and he always watched with big, wary eyes when Kyle's parents came near him, as if waiting to see what they'd do.
With Kyle at least he'd been more openly disdainful at first. The screaming fight a few weeks in had still mostly been on Kyle's side, but Michael HAD called him an asshole, which had oddly been progress.
Still, since then there'd been movement. Michael started to bend, a little. He started to answer out loud when he was asked things - briefly at first, but gradually to talk. When Jim caught him going through an old text book, idly penciling in answers to the match questions, Michael was obviously tensed and ready to be yelled at, and seemed startled and then slowly a little flustered when he was praised for being smart instead, the same way Kyle was. He tried to come across as sullen and angry, and sometimes he was. But Michael was alone and he'd been hurt, and sometimes the fear came through just as much. The little startled flashes of wary appreciation when he was appreciated or praised showed the same way, despite his best efforts.
He stopped hiding away when he did his homework so much, and didn't deliberately get things wrong anymore. And one weekend Michael and Kyle both ended up staying up all night, watching reruns on TV and trading comics and the remote back and forth and talking, they came out of it friends. Or at least something closer to it than Michael had ever had before, excepting his siblings. He'd found them again, once he'd gone to school, since they went to the same school as Kyle and him. Seeing them again had been a massive relief that made things easier, even if he'd still tried to push them away a little too, at first - despite how hard he'd tried to find them. And the Valentis didn't refuse to let him go anywhere or see anyone, so he stopped trying to sneak off and escape so much, instead spending time after school or on weekends with them - much to the dismay of the Evans who didn't want him influencing their perfect kids.
Michael isn't entirely settled. He's not sure he knows what that feels like. But he's starting to feel like the Valentis, at least, he can trust some. Like Sanders, even if he's a crank. And Kyle's smarter than he seems and not entirely terrible. He's even funny, sometimes. His friend Alex is, too. Michael still feels the distance between him, Max, and Isobel like a physical hurt, and he still can't help but push sometimes, just to see what happens when he does something wrong. But so far, no one's tried to exorcise him or throw him out or beat the hell out of him. And he still dreams - the lamps have shaken more than once. But no one's blamed him yet, even if he's seen a few odd looks.
The trip should have set off warning bells, but Michael had actually tried NOT to freak out about it, even if the distance still made him edgier.
He's surprised that it's ... kind of neat. It's an old house, cool by design as much as by air conditioning. There's nooks and crannies for Michael to poke his nose into, and something about it just feels ... calm to him.
So he's trying to just zone out Kyle's drumming feet and feel the calm and not the distant hum of Isobel, clearly annoyed about something. It doesn't work since Kyle starts talking, and Michael cracks open his eyes from where he's sitting, head tipped back and unusually still, for him. Michael's hands are at least almost always busy moving. "HOW is that my problem?" he asks, but gives in with a grunt, sitting up and stretching his neck a little. "Want to go look through the library again?" he asks, even though he knows if Kyle wanted to do that, he wouldn't be here complaining.
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With Kyle at least he'd been more openly disdainful at first. The screaming fight a few weeks in had still mostly been on Kyle's side, but Michael HAD called him an asshole, which had oddly been progress.
Still, since then there'd been movement. Michael started to bend, a little. He started to answer out loud when he was asked things - briefly at first, but gradually to talk. When Jim caught him going through an old text book, idly penciling in answers to the match questions, Michael was obviously tensed and ready to be yelled at, and seemed startled and then slowly a little flustered when he was praised for being smart instead, the same way Kyle was. He tried to come across as sullen and angry, and sometimes he was. But Michael was alone and he'd been hurt, and sometimes the fear came through just as much. The little startled flashes of wary appreciation when he was appreciated or praised showed the same way, despite his best efforts.
He stopped hiding away when he did his homework so much, and didn't deliberately get things wrong anymore. And one weekend Michael and Kyle both ended up staying up all night, watching reruns on TV and trading comics and the remote back and forth and talking, they came out of it friends. Or at least something closer to it than Michael had ever had before, excepting his siblings. He'd found them again, once he'd gone to school, since they went to the same school as Kyle and him. Seeing them again had been a massive relief that made things easier, even if he'd still tried to push them away a little too, at first - despite how hard he'd tried to find them. And the Valentis didn't refuse to let him go anywhere or see anyone, so he stopped trying to sneak off and escape so much, instead spending time after school or on weekends with them - much to the dismay of the Evans who didn't want him influencing their perfect kids.
Michael isn't entirely settled. He's not sure he knows what that feels like. But he's starting to feel like the Valentis, at least, he can trust some. Like Sanders, even if he's a crank. And Kyle's smarter than he seems and not entirely terrible. He's even funny, sometimes. His friend Alex is, too. Michael still feels the distance between him, Max, and Isobel like a physical hurt, and he still can't help but push sometimes, just to see what happens when he does something wrong. But so far, no one's tried to exorcise him or throw him out or beat the hell out of him. And he still dreams - the lamps have shaken more than once. But no one's blamed him yet, even if he's seen a few odd looks.
The trip should have set off warning bells, but Michael had actually tried NOT to freak out about it, even if the distance still made him edgier.
He's surprised that it's ... kind of neat. It's an old house, cool by design as much as by air conditioning. There's nooks and crannies for Michael to poke his nose into, and something about it just feels ... calm to him.
So he's trying to just zone out Kyle's drumming feet and feel the calm and not the distant hum of Isobel, clearly annoyed about something. It doesn't work since Kyle starts talking, and Michael cracks open his eyes from where he's sitting, head tipped back and unusually still, for him. Michael's hands are at least almost always busy moving. "HOW is that my problem?" he asks, but gives in with a grunt, sitting up and stretching his neck a little. "Want to go look through the library again?" he asks, even though he knows if Kyle wanted to do that, he wouldn't be here complaining.