Maybe that was one thing Motorcity had over Detroit- its smells were so much more unique and hard to place. Detroit's scent was always easy to place because absolutely everything was supposed to be one hundred percent spotless. If one piece of dust was found floating freely through the air, it was eliminated not so quietly. Kane had always been a neat freak, and he made sure to let others know that.
Motorcity, though...so many scents wafted through Mike's nose. Motor oil and gas, liquor and spray paint, exhaust fumes and gun powder. They tickled Mike's nose and traveled across his brain, stirring vague memories of transportation on a black, endless road.
Road? No, that couldn't be right. Mike had lived in Detroit Deluxe his whole life...wait, that's a lie. Mom said he'd been born in a place called Mayfair...then they moved into Detroit. But their car was confiscated as soon as they reached the border of Michigan. How did he even remember that? He couldn't have been any older than two...
Mike grunted, forcing himself back into the present. He wasn't running through Motorcity to reminisce his past, he was trying to escape it. But it sure was doing a hell of a job catching up to him.
He needed somewhere quiet to rest. Some place where he could just gather his thoughts and plan his next course of action. He was never useful when his mind was in a scramble, nor was he pleasant to talk to. Not that he wanted to talk to anyone. What if the next guy he ran into was just as decietful as the last man he trusted?
Mike gazed at his surroundings, taking in the exotic sights that matched the unique scents. There were no blindingly white skyscrapers that rivaled the Empire State Building, nor were there levitating square chambers with brainwashed passengers. Everything was layered with the grime of an unknown substance, neon bright lights flickered on and off near shops in a poor attempt to attract customers, every home had its own strange collage of colors, and most importantly, there were cars. Engine running, gas consuming, freedom fighting, life threatening thrill rides.
Cars usually meant that people were nearby, but all of the machines were lifeless, and not a soul decided to trudge through the filthy streets in the middle of the night. They'd all retreated to their homes, or alley ways, long ago.
Alley ways...how many more people joined the homeless after that incident?
No, he shouldn't have thought of that. He had saved them. It was all he could've done...no, he was fooling himself. If he had just realized how much of a dictator Kane was in the first place, he could've stopped it. Could have fought against his soldiers. God damnit, how could he have been so blind?!
Mike grinded his teeth together and tried to regain his focus. He needed some time alone. Some time to get his thoughts straight. What was he supposed to do now? There was no way he could show his face in Deluxe again. Not after the scene he pulled. Kane probably already had Mike's face plastered all over the data base as public enemy number one. Maybe there were some cadets down in Motorcity, hunting down former Commander Chilton so they could bask in Kane's loving approval.
Had Mike really been one of those obedient drones not even two days ago?
He looked ahead and, to his delight, found a lifeless restaurant. It wasn't lighting up with neon colors like all the other bars and stores across the street, so Mike assumed it was closed. Perfect.
The inside was as deserted as the streets outside, and it was dark enough to hide his silhouette. Even if there was someone out there, be it a mischievous child sneaking out after curphew, or a rotten teenager waiting to TP some poor soul's house, they wouldn't be able to spot him underneath the cloaks of night that enveloped the building.
The exhaustion from lack of sleep, food, and water finally caught up to him, and Mike collapsed against the ordering counter at the end of the room. He was starting to wish the place was open after all. At least then he could've choked down some day old pizza. But he couldn't let himself indulge in those pleasures just yet. He still had to make plans. He could focus now that no one was there to bug him, or talk to him, or console him, or hold him, or tell him everything was going to be okay...
With a sigh he tilted his head upwards, enjoying the coolness of the counter tile against his sweaty neck. He wondered with amusement why all of the lights were turned off but the ceiling fan was still aloud to whirl around hypnotically. Not that he was complaining. Considering how far below the Earth Motorcity was, it was a wonder no one was melting like wax candles. A little ventilation would do the place a lot of good.
A wave of drowsiness overwhelmed Mike and he blinked heavily. He stifled a yawn and widened his eyes, refusing to give in just yet. He still had to plan. He had to think of way to stop Kane before anymore innocent people lost their homes, or worse. So help him God, he would hunt down the dictator in his sleep if he had to.
Mike halfheartedly tried to push himself up, only to flop back against the counter like a lifeless ragdoll. The darkness seemed to push against his body like a deadweight, forcing him to stay in place. Well, there went the "pacing until he left a dent in the ground" idea.
He focused back on the fan, figuring that keeping his gaze on a solid object would get his brain back in control of his body. But that only succeeded in making him dizzy and sleepier. He shook his head, blinking. Once. Twice. Three times. The fan kept invading his sight. His thoughts were getting tangled around each other. Meaningless memories leaped out of his mind and danced before his eyes in swarms of mesmerizing color. All those images seemed to be attracted to the fan, as they attached themselves to the wings and appeared quite content with whirling around and dazzling Mike with their brilliance. He lifted a heavy hand, feeling an unusually childish desire to touch it. The bright light looked so warm and inviting to the lonely boy...
"Mikey? Were you listening?"
"Michael, pay attention!"
Mike jumped, turning his gaze away from the silver ceiling fan and back onto his mother. She frowned at him, her brown eyes boring holes into his soul. Man, he hadn't meant to upset her again. She'd already yelled at him earlier, he didn't want another fit.
"Sorry, Mom..." The four year-old squeaked, studying the floor with great interest.
He heard her sigh, and felt two skinny arms wrap around him in an awkward but loving hug. "No, I'm the one who should be sorry. I should know about a kid's tiny attention span by now." She laughed uncomfortably.
He didn't know what she meant, but he laughed along anyway, relieved that she wasn't really angry.
"But really, Mike, it's important that you listen to me right now, okay?"
Mike nodded intently, his expression hardening into determination...he hoped. His mom didn't have the heart to tell him that his puckered lips made him look more adorable than serious.
"Let Mommy do all the talking. If they ask you any questions, don't answer them. I'll do that for you, alright?"
"Okay." She pecked him on the cheek. "That's my boy. Our turn should be coming soon."
"Ms. Chilton?" A voice rusted with age called.
"Speaking of which..." Mom took Mike's hand and lead him down the chrome hallway. Mike looked around, trying to make out any sort of difference in texture or color. He was getting sick of silver and smooth. The texture was in his food, on his clothing, and on the buildings. A splash of green or red would do Detroit some good.
A tall, lean man greeted them at the end of the hall. "Ah, nice to meet you Ms. Chilton. Oh, and you must be little Michael Niccals." Mike shyly averted his eyes, hiding behind Mom's long legs.
"Chilton." Mom interjected harshly. "His last name is Chilton."
"Not according to his profile." The man responded pleasantly. Mike grimaced. Mom and the word "Not" or "No" didn't go well together. He'd learned that it was best to agree with her, whether she was right or wrong. He braced himself for an explosion.
"Look, I never married that man, therefore Michael should carry MY last name. He is in no way to be associated with him or I will choke you like a puppy-,"
"Ma'am, unless you want me to call security, I suggest you calm down." How could the man stay so nonchalant? Mike always had to hold back tears when Mom was like this to him!
Mom took a deep breath before stating, "Fine, just let me fill out the forms."
"Not just yet. There are a few questions I'm required to ask. I suggest you have a seat over there." He gestured to a small room with three chairs sitting in a row. Mike was guided by Mom once again, and the two sat down quietly.
"Now Ms. Chilton, from what I gather you have a well paying job, a fine home, and are just above middle class living. Not to mention, Kane co.'s mandatory security installment ensure's safety and health for both of you. Why, then, do you want to give your child to the orphanage?"
Mike gasped like he'd just been stung by a bee. "Mom, you want to give me away?!" He looked up at her fearfully, his heart pounding in his ears. Was he hearing things? His mom loved him-she told him so-why would she do such a thing? She was the only friend he had!
"No, Mikey. Believe me, this is the last thing I want to do." She avoided his eyes guiltily. Mike noticed some tears sliding down her cheeks. He climbed into her lap and tried to wipe them away, some salty liquid trailing down his own face. She smiled wobbily, holding his tiny arms gently. "It's okay, Mike...why don't you stay in here for a bit? I think Mr. Chatterbox and I need to talk alone."
"Why can't I go with you?" Mike whined, still shaken by the man's question.
"Mikey, this is something that only adults can talk about. If you were older, you'd understand better."
"I am older! Yesterday you said I was your little man!"
She giggled, a haunting sound when combined with her crying. "You are my little man. But this is a job for a big man, and you haven't outgrown your shoes yet, have you?"
Mike sniffled and stared at his little white and blue sandals. "No..."
She kissed him on the forehead. "Don't worry, Mike. This will only take a few minutes." She gently placed him back in his own seat, then glared at the man with the plastic smile. "Sir, can we continue this in another room?"
"Certainly, ma'am." The two adults shuffled out the room, Mom blowing Mike a kiss before closing the door.
Mike was all alone again, an uncomfortable silence stretching across the room. He watched the red hand of a clock tick by, each click it made pounding against his head. He counted the seconds, losing interest after hitting five hundred. At least, he thought it had been five hundred. He could only count up to thirty, so he'd had to guess some numbers and skip a few times.
The ticking and tocking of the clock was nothing compared to actual voices. Mike sighed impatiently, wishing that someone was in the room with him. Even if they spoke nothing but nonsense, he wouldn't mind so long as he had company. What was taking Mom so long? She said it would only take a few minutes, not a few years.
What if...what if she was in trouble? Mike's eyes widened at the possibility. The man from earlier, what if he was some evil-doer who wanted to suck the life out of Mom? What if Mom forgot her pepperspray and couldn't fight back? She'd always said the world was full of cruel people. People as cruel as his father, who she often described as a "No-good, lying, smelly, bastardly man-whore". He shivered and imagined if the man in the room with his mother was as horrible as Dad. He pictured his skin melting away, revealing chewed off flesh, sunken in yellow eyes, razor sharp teeth, and a voice that could peel his ears off. And then he imagined his mother, screaming in horror as she hopelessly awaited her doom.
"Mom!" Mike could wait no longer. He would fight to the death to protect her if he had to! He looked around for a weapon, smiling in satisfaction when he found a bottle of hand sanitizer. It wasn't as good as a sword, but he remembered how much it could sting when he had cuts on his hands. If the monster's flesh was peeled back, then he'd be in for a world of pain when Mike splashed it on him.
He unscrewed the bottle and leaped for the doorknob, rushing down the hall, his ears perked up for his mother's screams. Some other kids and adults watched him. The kids looked curious, the adults looked disgusted or confused. Mike paid them no mind. He had a mother to save.
"How many times do I have to tell you? I CAN'T take care of him!"
That sounded like Mom, and she sounded angry, but not frightened or weak. Mike kept his guard up just in case. He leaned against the door, squeezing the bottle like his life depended on it. And any minute, it would.
"Ma'am, I can't allow you to give him up unless you have a legitimate reason for doing so." Hmph. The man's voice didn't sound distorted. But Mike had to wait a little longer...
"You don't understand. I TRIED to raise him, I really did. But...but every time I look at him, I see that man. He has his eyes, his face...whenever I look at Mike, I want to strangle him for his father's crimes, and I keep worrying that someday I'm really going to do that. Michael is a good, sweet boy, and he deserves someone that won't yell at him when he did nothing wrong. I just...I can't do it." He could hear her crying, and Mike loosened his fighting stance. Was she still talking about giving him away? But she said earlier she didn't want to, and she was crying now, so did she still not want to? What was going on?
"...Well, are you on some sort of medication?"
"Why don't you have that sort of information in those Goddamn files?"
"I just have to confirm it with you. It's mandatory that I-,"
"Okay, okay, yes, I'm on medication."
"In that case, your fear does sound legitimate. I suggest you fill out the forms now. Just be sure to let the child down easy."
"He'll be safe here, won't he? This isn't one of those terrible orphanages with the rotten teachers and bullies?"
"Mr. Kane would have my head if one child wasn't happy here."
"Okay. Hand me the papers."
Mike had heard enough. With a strangled cry, he fled back to the tiny room, running into various passerbies. He ignored their annoyed grunts and shouts, his own sobs overpowering them. He was starting to wish that his imaginery thoughts had been real. Then he could've saved Mom, and she would hold him and thank him, and the two could just go back home and play together like they always did. This was worse than any monster he could think of.
He curled into a small, olive and white ball on the chair, wiping snot and tears onto his clothes and not caring that Mom might scold him for leaving stains. He just wanted to go home. Better yet, he wanted to wake up in bed to find out that this was all a terrible nightmare. Then he would tell Mom about it, and she'd laugh and say that that would never happen because she loved him, and that she needed her little knight in shining armor to protect her from the bad guys.
"Mikey? I have to-," Mike heard his mom gasp, and suddenly he was lifted up and placed against her slim shoulder, blowing bubbles of bugers into it. He held onto her and sobbed noisily, a painful lump in his throat preventing him from forming actual words. The only things he managed to say were "Don't leave!" and "Please!".
Mom remained silent and just rocked him until his earsplitting sobs dissolved into wavering sniffles. He could feel hot liquid on his back and realized that she was crying again.
"Oh, Mikey...do you see why that was something only adults could handle?"
"M-Mom, you're not really going to leave me, are you?" He looked up at her with such hope and innocence in his watery eyes. Her own eyes were glassy and empty.
"I'm sorry, Mike, but this is for the best."
"No, it's not!" He pounded weakly against her chest. "You can't leave!"
"Michael Niccals Chilton, listen to me." Her voice developed the stern edge that she saved only for when Mike did bad things like stealing an extra cookie or accidentally breaking her favorite vase in an attempt to show his fighting skills. But she never liked to use his other last name, Niccals. She must've been angrier than ever before.
"You can't understand why I'm doing this now, but you will when you're older. For now, all you have to know is that I'm doing this for you, and that if I'd kept you with me any longer...I don't think you would've made it through. You'll be safe here, and you'll make lots of wonderful friends."
"But I don't want friends, I want you to stay with me!"
"You'll be happy that I did this one day. And you'll forget me soon enough."
"Mom..."
"Be strong, my little man. Continue to do what you believe is right. Protect those who need your strength, and never let anyone make you do something you don't want to."
She kissed his head and handed him to the man. Mike squirmed in his grasp. His grip wasn't nearly as soft and comforting as Mom's.
"I love you, Mike Chilton. And I always will."
Those were the last words he'd heard from her. At that time, Mike was so wrought with devastation that he had convinced himself that he would never speak to another soul again. If they weren't his mother, then why should he trust them? And for a while, it seemed that he would live up to his word. He was put in a sterile, well built orphanage, where the children each had their own groups to hang around and chat with. While all the other kids would join each other for lunch, or stay up in their dormitories and tell scary stories to one another even though it was way past curphew, Mike was always alone. He hadn't even spoken a word since one of the staff asked him to introduce himself to the other kids. He just stood by himself, watching enviously as the other children laughed together. They couldn't have known the pain he was going through, the pain of losing his only friend in the world. What right did they have to be so happy when they had no parents just like him?
He kept up the silent treatment for two months before the loneliness became too unbearable.
Mike had recently turned five, and the adults decided that it was time for him to attend classes. Of course Mike had been reluctant. He'd be surrounded by more kids, and he feared that he'd give into temptation and break his silence. While he was proud of himself for not betraying his mother, he had a feeling it wouldn't last long. By nature he was a talker, and by nurture he desired companionship.
So he sat in the very back of the room, hiding his face in his palms, pretending that he was air.
He should've known that at least one kid would get curious and come up to greet him.
"Hi!" Mike uncovered his eyes, only to be met with blue irises and red hair. It was a boy his age and height that greeted him, and he continued staring at him, obviously expecting a response. Mike wouldn't let him have the satisfaction.
"I said 'hi'!" The kid repeated, the smile never leaving his face. Mike shifted in his seat so that his desk was facing the opposite side.
"What's your name? I'm Luke." Why wasn't this kid taking a hint?! Mike glared at him, hoping the scowl would scare him off. Instead, another curious kid joined in the fun.
"That's Mike Chilton. I think Teacher told us last summer. He's new here." The speaker was a girl with shoulder length brown hair and brown eyes.
Luke nodded. "Oh, so he's shy."
"Of course. Remember how shy you were when you first got here?"
"Sure, but I talked."
"Don't be rude! He looks angry."
"I know, I think someone took his lunch."
Mike blocked out their voices, grateful that Luke was distracted. For the rest of the class he watched each child introduce himself and state what they liked and disliked. When it came to his turn, he just looked down. Every one stared at him. Some of them giggled for reasons he didn't understand.
"His name's Mike Chilton." Mike looked up to see the girl from earlier talking. He was overwhelmed with relief when the teacher decided that that information was good enough and moved on to instructing the alphabet.
"K is for Kane, our kindhearted leader."
A bell rang, signalling the start of lunch. Mike headed to the cafeteria, recieved little cubes of food that smelled like Tofu and tasted like fish, and stared in space. He wondered what Mom was doing now. Did she miss him? Was she better off without him? Did he really look that much like Dad? She never showed him any pictures. She rarely even talked about him. Asking questions concerning Dad resulted in a yelling fit that ended in a sobbing match, with Mike pressed against her chest as she apologized to him over and over again. Then Mike would play with her and talk to her until she stopped wailing. What was she doing now that she had no shoulder to cry on?
"Hey, Mike, can you sit with us?"
Mike turned around, not expecting the brown haired girl to notice him. He looked away.
"Come on, we were getting bored. At least join us." She grabbed his arm, and he was too deep in thought to struggle free.
"How'd you get him to come here?" Luke was sitting at the end of a table, tapping his fingers as the girl sat Mike next to her.
"I dunno. He let me grab him, so maybe he wanted to come. Mike, you want a Kane cube?" She stuck her fork in the squishy squares, holding it out to him. He shook his head and turned away.
"I guess you're not hungry...I'm Peggy by the way." She held out her hand and Mike stared at it, expressionless. How could he have expected anyone to show him such kindness? Everyone else had ignored him and showed no pity for his loneliness. While they were never cruel to him, they never interacted with him and Mike had preferred it that way. The kindest souls were the hardest to ignore. And right there, as Peggy kept her hand stretched out and looked at him with utmost compassion, he found his silent treatment to be at its most challenging to keep.
He settled instead with shaking her hand. She smiled, showing her gapped front teeth. "Nice to meet you! I hope we can be the best of friends." She giggled, and Mike felt vacant muscles on the corners of his mouth twitching upward.
"Hey, don't forget about me!" Luke huffed, crossing his arms.
"Of course not, silly. Mikey, this is Luke. If you ever need cheering up, he's the one to go to."
"And don't you forget it." Luke puffed out his chest proudly. Mike's mouth curled into a small smile for the first time in two months. Peggy looked absolutely giddy. "You're smiling! You have a really nice smile. Oh, I'm so glad we're friends!"
"...Th...thank you..." Mike wasn't sure if he felt happy that he finally found some friends, or sad that he'd broken his own promise. These people weren't his mother...but they were kind and caring, he could tell just by listening to them talk and watching them smile. He could trust them.
The three friends would often be found on the track; a levitating block of titanium with an oval shaped dent to allow runners to know where their path was. Its main purpose was to test and train the cadets' speed and agility. They would run, avoid obstacles, and dodge harmless virtual lasers shot at them, courtesy of the Kane bots.
So long as they were observed by cadet a with armor and a weapon, the kids had access to the track whenever they pleased. It was a haven for them to go to after school. They would just talk and laugh and share food with one another. Mike opened up more with each day, and it wasn't long before he was back to his old, cheerful self again.
"I bet I could be way faster than any of those guys." Mike declared haughtily, snickering as he watched one of the cadets stumble over air.
"Well that's not fair, Mikey. All of these guys are new. Practice makes perfect." Peggy scolded gently.
"And these guys are bigger than you. Even if they're new, they're still faster than all of us." Luke added. Mike scoffed. "I still say I can go faster."
"Prove it." All three kids jumped when they heard the voice of their supervisor out of nowhere. To their surprise, he had joined their little row of criss cross sitting. Mike had to hold back a laugh. It wasn't every day he saw one of Detroit's cadets leaning on his hands, sitting on the floor criss cross applesauce with little kids. If Mr. Kane saw him now...
"Prove what?" Peggy asked.
"Well, if Chilton here says that he's faster than any of these rookies, why don't we test it out?" The cadets were being filed out, stepping onto another floating platform and away from the track. "Now's a perfect time. How about it?" A red screen appeared before the supervisor. With a few movements of his fingers, the obstacles on the track dissapeared, leaving a blank slate on the oval.
Mike froze, suddenly regretting his choice of words. Why exactly HAD he said that he could run faster? Well, the cadets all looked too incompetent and clumsy. It'd been way too easy to put himself in the picture, blazing across the track like an olive colored blur, jumping over the electric fences and soaring around blocks of silver. Now the track was completely blank, possibly the safest it has ever been, yet he was getting cold feet? He wasn't a coward, what was wrong with him?
"What are you waiting for, Chilton? Go ahead and run." For crying out loud, that guy was a jerk. Why did they ever agree to make him their supervisor?
"You don't have to do it, Mikey. It's okay if you're scared." Peggy comforted.
But he wasn't scared. Why was he shaking, then? Pull yourself together, Mike. It's just a track. He could run it. Nothing would happen. His friends wouldn't reject him if he stumbled across it like a clutz.
"No...I'll do it." He heard himself say.
He gulped and dragged his feet to the starting line, crouching the way he saw the cadets do it. Elbows out, knees bent, eyes set, shoulders straight. Maybe it wasn't a good idea to imitate the mediocre, but what the heck, they looked cool when they posed.
"Ready...set...GO!" Mike was off before the supervisor finished the last word.
Wind shot through his hair and caressed his skin. It seemed to encourage the boy into putting one tiny foot in front of the other. His panting was silenced by the raw realization of the present. He was running. He was tripping. He never fell, the wind always picked him back up. He just kept running, and he couldn't stop. Nor did he want to.
This was what he had been so afraid of? How could he have feared this...freedom? This spine tingling, heart stopping, adrenaline pumping freedom? He couldn't recall a time where he had felt so alive. Every little thought in his head grinded to a halt, and for once he enjoyed being alone. Alone with the freedom and the speed and the wind. He might as well have been flying through the air, soaring with the birds, soaking up their common gift.
All too soon he reached the finish line, and exhaustion suddenly rammed into him like a bus. He slowed down and landed on his knees, panting like he was having an asthma attack. Peggy ran over to him, concerned. Luke clapped, congratulating him on his guts. Even the supervisor gave him a thumbs up. "Well, kid, you certainly did better than I expected...but you still weren't as quick as the rookies."
"What?!" Mike broke out of his wheezing episode, taking Peggy's hand and pulling himself up with a "thanks".
"You're faster than most kids your age. Hell, by the look on your face, I could tell you were really enjoying it too, unlike the cadets. But they have longer legs and more practice."
Mike scowled, drawing his gaze from the supervisor back to the track. "Let me run again."
"Mikey, it's fine-,"
"Let. Me. Run. Again." Mike would not allow himself to be slower than those stupid idiots. That was just unacceptable and unfair. Kid or not, he couldn't compare himself to any slowpoke.
"...Fine. How about you have five more tries, then I take you back to the orphanage."
"I'll be faster than them in just two tries." This time, Mike didn't regret the words out of his mouth.
So Mike ran again. And again. And again.
Even after he proved himself to be faster, he continued running. And each time, he grew quicker. His legs gained muscle. His lungs grew more resilient. The days dissolved into weeks. The weeks blurred into months. The months faded into years.
By the time he was thirteen, Mike Chilton was exceptionally fast, and able to dodge the most dangerous obstacles that cadets twice his age had failed to do.
It was another one of those days where Mike was feeling particularly daring. He didn't even need to say anything; Luke could tell by the look in his eyes that he wanted the obstacles-even the most life threatening ones. Years ago he would've protested, but Mike had proven dozens of times that they were no big deal. So, with an affectionate sigh, Luke asked the supervisor to activate the electric fences, the virtual Kane bots, and the supposed bottomless pits.
Years of practice allowed Mike to dodge the lasers and leap over the electric fences. Bottomless pits were easily missed, and Mike never lost the blissful smile on his face. He and danger had grown to be very close friends, and speed was a drug they loved to share.
"Wow, Mike, that was a new record!" Luke cheered, clapping him on the back. Mike grinned. "It was no problem. I just wish they would update the track soon. I could clear the course with my eyes closed now."
"I don't doubt that." Peggy handed Mike a towel to dry off the sweat. Mike accepted it gratefully.
"How've things been going at the orphanage?" Peggy had been adopted when she was ten, so to have her at the track was a rare opportunity that neither Mike nor Luke liked to miss. Not that they could miss it; the two still came to the track everyday.
"Same old, same old." Luke responded nonchalantly. "But I did hear that Mr. Kane himself is gonna arrive anyday now for mandatory inspection. I bet he just wants to see which kid would be the most fit to join his cadets."
"Why does he want more soldiers? Detroit is safe enough as it is." Peggy asked curiously. Mike lifted an eyebrow at her. "Don't they teach you about Motorcity in the school you go to?"
She blushed. She never liked being chastised. "Well, I've heard of it if that's what you mean..."
Mike playfully rolled his eyes. "I'm just messing with you, Peg. Anyway, the main reason he wants more cadets is because he wants to seize Motorcity. There are a lot of stubborn people down there who don't wanna be in Deluxe. Why not is anyone's guess, but Mr. Kane arrived at our school in person last year to ask for new recruits to persuade the Motorcitizens into Deluxe."
"Persuade?" Peggy sounded skeptical. "He needs soldiers with weapons and armor to PERSUADE some stubborn people into leaving their homes?"
"Believe me, I thought it sounded weird too. But when you think about it, I'd say it's better that way. Mr. Kane said that the Motorcitizens just don't understand what's best for themselves. You should see all the pictures-Motorcity's a dark, dirty, dangerous place for anyone to live. Why would they choose that dump over Deluxe?"
"Well...when you put it like that, I guess I can understand..." Peggy still looked unsure. "But what if they have a real reason for staying?"
Mike shrugged. "Beats me. I'm just worried about the people who don't know what they're missing. It's safer here. They'll be able to live their lives, free of any danger." He knew that the words came out of his mouth, but he couldn't help but feel like someone had put them there. Was it wrong to want others safe when Mike himself found safety to be boring? He was fine with getting hurt, but the thought of defenseless civilians going through pain, whether it was scraping their knee or getting shot in the shoulder, was enough to activate his Mother Hen mode.
"Mikey here, in case you didn't already guess, wants to join the cadets." Luke told Peggy, drenching Mike with a water bottle. Mike responded by throwing the sweaty towel at his face.
Peggy giggled at their tomfoolery. "Gee, I never would've guessed this kindergartner would wanna join."
Mike joined her laughter. "I thought we agreed that Luke was the five year old?"
"Hey!"
The three tumbled into a heap of guffaws, none of them able to speak through their gasps. Mike knew that these moments where the three were together like this were few and far between, so he tried to soak up all the enjoyment he could from it.
Hours of talking and laughing passed by like seconds, and soon Mike and Luke had to return to the orphanage. Peggy bid them both goodbye and used a screen to activate a block that would take her to the coordinates of her home. Luke never took his eyes off Peggy, a dreamy smile on his face. Mike rolled his eyes, smiling. How a straight A student like Peggy never noticed Luke's painfully obvious crush was beyond him.
A week later, Mike was a bundle of nerves. Mr. Kane himself announced that he would be arriving at the school that day for inspection. He would be testing those interested in joining the cadets through a series of physical exams.
Physical exams were fine with Mike. Everyone in the school already knew how agile he was. Boys both younger and older than him admired or envied his skills. Girls swooned over him when he sent them a simple wave of the hand. It was practically against the law to not know who Mike Chilton was in that school. The story of the mute, painfully shy boy turned strong, cool and collected man was passed in whispers between tweens and teens alike. The attention was enjoyable, but Mike never exploited it, earning respect from even the strictest of teachers and coldest of outcasts.
He wondered if Mr. Kane had heard of him. If he even knew that he existed. What if Mike slipped somehow during the exam? Or what if there was someone in the school that Kane was more interested in?
Mike had always been good at hiding his fear. Hell, he'd gone through enough to danger to abate any sort of doubt in his head that he'd make it through anything alive. But he wasn't just doing this for fun, he was doing it to help the people of Deluxe and Motorcity. Mr. Kane himself would be handpicking the cadets...From what Mike had heard and seen, he was a kind and charismatic man, but very specific in what he wanted. The very thought of the Ruler of Deluxe watching Mike's every move was enough to burn his relaxed facade, and he was gaining a noticeable twitch.
To calm himself, Mike thought of what would happen if he did get Kane's approval. Not many boys his age could make it into Mr. Kane's training academy, and those who did had the highest benefits. He would be taught by Mr. Kane the basic ways of defending himself, the best strategies of leadership and teamwork, and would recieve Social Security that was already paid for by Kane Co. Overall, it was very ideal way of living to Mike.
And if he didn't get accepted...well, he'd still have Peggy and Luke. He'd still have a school filled with students and teachers that respected him. Considering how much everyone loved him, they'd probably beg Mr. Kane to let him go to the academy anyway.
Mike sighed, feeling a little better. The world wasn't going to end.
He stood tall with the other contestants in the gym. Every one was stiff and still, awaiting with unbearable anticipation for Mr. Kane to step through the doors.
He was mildly surprised to see Luke among one of the waiting. Not that he doubted Luke's skills, he just never seemed interested in joining. His talents leaned more toward mechanics, which was a shame considering that sort of talent was more fit for Motorcity. What made him so eager to join the cadets?
"Welcome, Gentlemen." Mike's thoughts flatlined, and he fixed his posture until he was as straight as a ruler stick.
Mr. Kane was here.
Mike had seen him before in many videos. The city of Detroit recieved messages from him every week, updating the news or recommending new suits and gadgets. He always made himself seem so calm and admirably confident, like he was always one step ahead of everyone and always knew his opponent's next move. But somehow, in person, he seemed almost...intimidating. He smiled at each of the students kindly, but that wasn't what really drew Mike to him. He stood tall and proud, like a true leader would. If no one respected him before, they certainly did now. Something about his proud demeanor made Mike feel like he could tell him his darkest secrets without an ounce of doubt or fear. Any nerves that he had left were eliminated.
"Now, I know that many of you have gathered here because you want to protect the wonderful citizens of Deluxe and save the people of Motorcity from themselves. Well, as you know, Kane Co. doesn't accept just anyone. You have to be strong, quick, intelligent. But most of all, you have to be LOYAL." The contestants, including Mike, hung off his every word, just as expected.
"And don't worry if you don't make it in. You all have your own roles to fulfill, and I guarantee you will be of use to Deluxe whether you join or not. Now, let's get started, shall we?"
Mike had been expecting something much more challenging. The other contestants apparently found it hard, as they couldn't stop tripping and yelling and slowing down then speeding back up again. For Mike, it was an absolute cakewalk. Since the track in the school was intended for middle school kids, and Mike was so used to using the track for trainees, he may as well have been walking in the park.
He finished with ease, barely breaking a sweat. The envious students glared at him, and the admiring students clapped for him. But he wasn't seeking their approval. He looked at Mr. Kane and found, to his delight, that his eyes were gleaming, and his eyebrow was lifted with interest. Did Mr. Kane think he was acceptional?
"Well, I have seen all of you try your very best, and that was all I asked. However, I was particularly moved by Mr. Chilton's excellent agility and quick thinking." Mike's heart rate sped up, and for a moment he feared that he would faint from the shock and excitement.
"Congratulations, Mr. Chilton. You will be moving on to the Kane Co. Cadet training academy." Mr. Kane smiled at him warmly. Mike was so exhilarated and shaken by the news that he nearly forgot who was talking to him. "I-Thank you, sir!" He saluted, wincing when his voice cracked slightly. Mr. Kane chuckled quietly.
"Be sure to bring your enthusiasm and energy with you. You're gonna need it. And as for the rest of you," He faced the dissapointed students, "I recommend you keep trying. If you're still determined to join the cadets, then step up your game and try again next year. If you figured out that this wasn't for you, then achieve another goal. In the end, it's all about willpower and talent." The students seemed to perk up at this, and they were released back to their classes.
One of the bodyguards that had surrounded Kane approached Mike. "Mr. Chilton, you will be transferred to the academy at the end of the school year. There you will be tested on your intelligence and sent to a dormitory that will be based on how well you do. I recommend you keep practicing your skills so you don't grow sluggish before training even begins."
"Thanks, sir, I'll do my best." Mike was only half aware of what he was saying. He didn't even notice when Luke clapped on the shoulder and told him how great a job he did. He felt words vibrating out of his mouth, but they could've been gibberish for all he knew.
He'd been accepted...He was gonna be a cadet for Mr. Kane!
The next months passed by agonizingly slowly, and Mike found himself counting the ticks of the clock. Between the few times that she visited them, Peggy told Mike that this was a good thing, as it gave him time to study for the test and improve his skills. But Mike always replied that he was ready, and that his brain would explode if he packed any more knowledge into it...besides, why did you need to know the ingredients of a Kane cube to get into the academy?
Luke wouldn't stop whining about how he didn't get accepted and that he could be just as good as Mike. When he didn't shut up about it for three weeks straight, a slightly irritated Mike offered to train him.
Luke immediately stopped complaining and stated he was more comfortable with watching Mike.
So when the time finally he came, Mike told Peggy to keep an eye on Luke whenever she could, and that she needed to look after herself too. She laughed and said that he should be more worried about himself.
Luke gave him a one armed hug before Mike slipped him Peggy's phone number. "If you wanna go out with her, just give her a call."
His face ripened like a tomato. "H-How did you-?!"
Mike saluted and leaped onto the moving transportation platform, where he was scolded for performing something so reckless.
The months at the academy were arguably the happiest of Mike's young life. He still performed admirably in physical tests, his grades on technology were decent, and his talent allowed him to skip a few levels of training. By the time he was fifteen, he was at the top of his class, leaner and more muscular than most teenagers his age, and awaiting his ceremony as a Cadet.
"Congratulations, Mike Chilton. Not only are you the best in your classes, but you are the youngest to achieve Cadet level. I hope you know the responsibility you'll be carrying?"
Mike stood tall. "I do, sir."
Mr. Kane chuckled, a sound that turned Mike pink with warmth. "That was a trick question, son. You've already proven yourself above any of these rookies."
Mike didn't care that his childish glee was showing all over his body. He couldn't think of a time he'd been happier.
Mr. Kane kept a very close eye on all of his cadets and commanders. It was one of his daily protocols to oversee their training and give them different assignments. Most of those assignments consisted of guarding the gates of Detroit that were located near Motorcity. There were only four gates, and five cadets were positioned to each, with additional help from Kane bots.
It was during these shifts that Mike would fondly remember how much of a worrywart he could be. At least, that was always what Luke and Peggy called him.
When he still went to Elementary School, a bully had decided it was Luke's turn to be tormented. He would stalk the poor boy in the hallway, calling him names and tripping him every time he passed by. But it didn't last long. Mike finally stepped into the picture, calling off the stupid brute for picking on his friend. The bully just responded with snide remarks. Mike was able to hold back his anger for an impressive amount of time.
But then the kid had crossed the line. Mike should've seen it coming, but he was too focused on putting him in his place. Luke had been walking down the hall, invading the argument taking place between Mike and the bully. By the time he realized what was going on, it was too late. The bully socked Luke in the nose and laughed when Mike's jaw dropped.
Red. There was only red. And a surreal fire that engulfed his soul, the bully's laughter and Luke's bloody nose fanning the flames of his wicked anger. He clenched his fists so tight it was a wonder he didn't break his fingers. He grinded his teeth until the sound rivaled a jet engine.
It was a sin for anyone to hurt Mike's friends.
With a battle cry, Mike had lunged at the bully with full force, noting with cruel satisfaction that the kid wasn't nearly as strong as him. His legs were unusually well built for his age, while the boy below was average at best. He landed punch after punch on him, vaguely aware of Luke watching in horror and other students cheering him on. Mama Bear would not allow her cubs to be harmed.
Inevitably, a teacher had to discipline Mike, but he wasn't punished way too severely after Luke explained what had happened. The red haze still enveloped Mike's vision, and it had been too thick for him to think clearly. He just recieved a week's worth of detention, along with an increase in popularity.
From then on, Mike rarely left Luke's side. The bully was too scared to bother either them anymore, yet Mike still stuck with Luke like a loyal body guard. Luke would complain and whine about how he was fine and he could take care of himself, but his pleas fell on deaf ears. Not even Peggy could convince Mike that things were okay. When months of constant surveillance didn't change, Luke had to get a teacher to convince Mike that he was okay. That had been enough to make Mike slow down...but he still stuck with him like glue.
With a sad sigh, Mike wondered what Luke and Peggy were up to now. According to reports, the two were last spotted in Motorcity, living together in an abandoned apartment building that would soon be torn down. Mr. Kane calmed his fears by stating that proffesionals would be going in to convince them to leave, but that didn't make him feel any better. His friends were trapped in a city where danger lurked around every corner, and he wasn't there to protect them.
Why were they even in Motorcity? A kidnapping was the most logical explanation Mike could think of, but even that was far-fetched. The Motorcitizens rarely, if ever, entered the territory of Deluxe. Much less for something as evil as that. But if they hadn't been kidnapped or forced into Motorcity against their will, that meant that they had moved to the threatening city of their own accord. The thought alone was enough to give Mike a headache. Deluxe was safe and clean; Motorcity was dangerous and contaminated. What reason was so great to convince them that Motorcity was the better choice?
The loss of his friends only fueled Mike's determination to protect Detroit. He took extra shifts whenever he could, sometimes taking both the day and night shift. His back would be sore from standing so straight for twenty four hours, and his eyelids weighed like anvils by the next morning, but he endured it all. For the months that he served and trained as a cadet, no other citizen was lost to Motorcity, and no plan was foiled.
Mr. Kane had found himself a new commander.
And then...everything went wrong.
Kane was a liar. A manipulator. And Mike had been gullible enough to fall for it all.
Everything had been all his fault. Every family that died from starvation or cold was paying for his mistakes. If he hadn't been so stupid and blind, none of this would've happened. He could've prevented everything. He could've taken the hint that Peggy and Luke had moved from Deluxe for a reason.
"Kid..."
All his fault.
"Hey..."
Mike Chilton was just as guilty as Abraham Kane.
"Kid, wake up!"
No, he was trapped in the nightmare. He couldn't wake up.
"Calm down! It's okay!"
Someone was grabbing his shoulder. Someone was shaking him. Mike instinctively grasped the hand, eyes shut tightly.
"Hey, no need for that. You're okay." The voice was rough and scratchy, the hand was wrinkly and calloused.
"Gramps..." No, that wasn't right. Mike never knew his grandpa. Who was it, then? He was too exhausted to open his eyes.
"Uh...sure, kid, it's your grandpa. And he says that you should relax and, uh...I'll get you some ice or something."
Grandpa...wait, he did have a grandpa? Lucky him...
"Okay, I'm back, now hold still."
Mike obliged, too tired to move anyway. How could he have forgotten how nice Grandpa was to him? He decided he should apologize later.
"Ah!" Mike yelped semi-loudly when he felt a shock of cold hit his forehead, forcing his eyes open so he could see what the hell was going on.
"Whoa! How many times do I have to tell ya to calm down?" The gruff voice he'd heard snapped. Just as Mike guessed, the owner of it was an old man with sharp eyes and graying hair. His style of clothing, black and red and raggedy, alerted Mike of his location: Motorcity.
"Ugh...Sorry...who're-?" His mouth refused to work correctly.
"Quiet, now, Chilton. If you know what's good for you, you'll go back to sleep."
Sleep was sounding pretty irresistable to Mike right now. Maybe the old man had a point...
But before Mike could drift off again, one cloudy thought entered his brain, the awkwardness of it temporarily veiling his drowsiness.
"You know me, but you're helping me?" Apparently some people in Motorcity were more forgiving than he expected.
The old man chortled dryly. "Of course I'm helping you. You may have belonged to Deluxe once, but you're lucky to be one of the awakened. I heard what you did back there, Mike. That doesn't sound like something a member of Kane co. would do." He smiled and Mike returned it, relieved.
"Thanks, but...that doesn't excuse what I did." He looked back down at the tiled floor, staring at his depressingly soulless reflection.
The old man huffed. "You didn't kill anyone, kid. And if you just stood there and did nothing, it could've been a lot worse. Besides, you're not the only one in Motorcity that was once under the spell of Deluxe. Heck, I bet only a handful were born here."
Mike massaged his aching head, trying in vain to contain the throbbing. The old man frowned and placed an ice pack where Mike's hand reached.
"Sheesh, kid, you certainly were a sight. When was the last time you slept?"
Mike's stomach growled.
"Or ate?"
He grinned sheepishly. "Two days I guess."
The old man's eyes lit up. "I have just the thing for you! Don't go anywhere."
"That shouldn't be a problem." Mike rolled his eyes, smiling good naturedly. The old man smirked.
"Just as charming as I expected." He dissapeared behind the counter for a while, the constant hum of an oven the only sign Mike had that he was still there.
"Done! You're in for a real treat here, Mike. Feel free to dive right into my latest creation, Seaweed and Kelp Stew!" He held onto a bowl of...actually, Mike didn't know what it was. It was thick and goopy, with bits of green and brown globs sticking to each other like a fresh cat hairball. He had a feeling it wasn't supposed to be moving around like that either...It was just as appetizing to the nose, too.
Holy crap, was it hissing at him?
"Well, unless you wanna starve to death, I suggest you dig in." The old man watched him expectantly. Mike hoped he wasn't grimacing. Really, the guy was showing him unbelievable generosity. The least he could do was grin and bare the grotesque creation.
So, he held his breath and took a bite...and before he knew it, he was scarfing it down like a malnourished animal. The taste didn't even matter to him. Food was food, and even Kane cubes deep fried in ketchup sounded pretty good to the starving ex-commander.
The old man laughed joyously. "I knew there was something about you that I liked. No one else in this city appreciates a good, healthy meal when they see it. Oh! I don't think I introduced myself, did I? I'm Jacob Murray."
Mike sighed happily as the churning emptiness in his stomach faded, allowing the fog in his brain to lift its curtains. "Nice to meet you, Jacob...Wait a minute. Did you say Jacob Murray?" Mike's eyes widened into saucers.
Jacob quirked an eyebrow. "Honestly, I'm surprised I had to say my name. Figured with all the things Kane's said about me-,"
"No! I mean, he's told me about you, but the pictures he showed were...uh..." What was the kindest way to put it?
"Ugly? Grotesque? Blasphemous?" Jacob sounded surprisingly humorous. "Don't be shocked when you get your own insulting self portrait. Last I checked, I had at least three eyes, right?"
Mike smiled in spite of himself. "Yeah...and a mohawk."
Jacob laughed again, the sound becoming contagious. "That's more like it! He knows how much I hate that punk hairstyle...Anyway, Mike, what exactly did he say about me?"
"Just that you were a traitor with a personal vendetta for Deluxe. That you found the lack of metal and cars to be unbearable and decided safety wasn't worth anything."
Jacob stroked his chin thoughtfully. "Wasn't too far away from the truth, was he? I am a traitor to Deluxe, but everyone here is technically a traitor. We don't display that kind of badge like we're proud of it, but we're all wanted people. I've had to use what little skills I possess on fighting off intruders, and the knowledge I have of his elite robots to maximize the security of Motorcity. I know most of their weaknesses and tricks, but that knowledge isn't nearly enough to protect these citizens..." He fixed Mike with an unreadable stare. "And I have a feeling that your betrayal is a trigger for the calm before the storm."
Mike's heart dropped into his stomach. "What? That...But that can't be true!" Mike wanted to believe his own words, but he was far from stupid. Kane had said that Mike was the best he'd ever had for his league of cadets and commanders and other blind followers. The loss of his greatest creation to the scum hole known as Motorcity would only fuel the fire of his anger.
Kane was, publicly, a calm and collected man. But Mike had been around him long enough to know what side he hid from the citizens. He was a ticking time bomb, absorbing all the bad news he recieved, and the hatred that he built like a sponge, soon to leak and explode on the person closest enough to feel his rage. At the time, Mike had pitied him, not wanting his leader to go through such unimaginable stress. Now that he realized how foolish he had been, he knew it was only a matter of time before another explosion occurred. And this time, it was unlikely that Motorcity could endure it.
"Well, Mike, what do you plan to do?" There was an edge of hope to Jacob's voice. Did he think that Mike alone could somehow devise some miracle that would put a stop to Kane's plans and protect Motorcity? Because Mike wished he could share that confidence.
"I...I want to protect everyone from Kane. I don't want them to lose what they came here for. Most of these citizens remember the nightmare of shackled security, and I know that they don't want to relive it. So...whatever it takes, I will protect everyone. Even if I have to take on Kane himself, I'll be a guardian."
Jacob smiled. "That's all I needed to hear, kid. Now to move onto the second most important question in existance: Do you know how to drive?"
Mike stared at him blankly. Was that question really necessary? Cars were outlawed in Deluxe. End of story.
Jacob got the hint. "Right. Well, prepare for the most thrilling experience of your life." He took Mike's hand, the latter standing on wobbly legs and needing support from Jacob. But by the time they arrived at Jacob's intended destination, Mike could walk on his own again.
"Welcome to my humble abode." Jacob waved his hands like an announcer.
His humble abode was more like an impressive garage. Used and destroyed cars were piled together in a not so tidy row, some of them only engines, and some of them only cracked windshields. But when Mike looked past the tragic sight, there was an opening to a counter quite similar to the restaurant he'd found earlier. There were piles of pots and pans on unlit stoves, half of them empty, the other half holding more questionable creations by Jacob. In the far corner, an overflowing ash tray sat.
Mike whistled, amazed. "Did you build all this yourself?"
"Nah, this place had been standing for awhile when I found it. Was in serious need of a remodel, so that's just what I did. Got rid of unneeded junk, kept the junk I needed, and built other junk into machines. Lookit that over there. Work in progress." He gestured to a green, one third completed car. "If I had a better engineer it would be finished by now. These old hands aren't good enough to create like they used to be." A surge of emotion seemed to overtake Jacob before he cleared his throat and lead Mike down a hallway.
"But I didn't bring you here to give you a grand tour. First off, I can already guess that that restaurant isn't your ideal home."
Mike laughed. "Gee, how'd you know?"
Jacob returned his chuckle. "There's plenty of room in this place, and I don't mind feeding you-especially since you're such a fine food critic." He winked and Mike smiled awkwardly. Thankfully, having a place to stay outweighed the food problem that was to come.
"Alright. Brace yourself, Mike..." Jacob's hands were shaking with anticipation, and Mike found himself getting excited too. Was a working car truly as amazing as Jacob made it out to be? Kane said that they were noisy and dangerous and too fast to be useful.
Mike couldn't show it when he'd said those words, but he was interested. Speed and danger were still his closest allies, after all.
"Ta-dah!" Jacob opened another garage door, revealing perhaps the most magnificent thing Mike had ever laid eyes on.
It was gigantic for one thing, with wheels the size of a battering ram, and the car attached to it was beautiful blue color. On the back of it was a hook that Mike recalled seeing on the back of a tow truck in the garbage dump before. Kane had shown him clips of cars before. There were all ugly, black and white motors with smoky engines and worn out paint. He never bothered to show Mike the incredible ones.
"She's a beauty, isn't she? I call her Sasquatch." Jacob rubbed the tires fondly, like he was patting the head of his grandson. "Plenty of energy, acceptional speed, and strong enough to take down twenty Kane bots at once. Course, it would help if Kane only sent down that amount instead the hundreds...so, that's where you come in, Mike. If you wanna protect Motorcity, you won't be able to do it with weapons and skills alone. Ya need a car, something that will get you where you need to go quickly, and give you the extra boost needed to finish off those bots." Mike's heart wouldn't stop racing as so many ideas flowed through his head. Exactly how fast did Jacob mean? Was there a limit? Did every car look as awesome as his?
"Well, what're you waiting for, Mike? Hop in! Every second wasted is a second gained for Kane." Jacob held out his hand and Mike took it delightedly. Even riding in the passenger seat, Mike felt on top of the world, like nothing could hold him down by now.
"Alright, fasten your seatbelt. Don't expect me to go easy just because you're a kid."
"C'mon, Jacob, give me a little more credit." Mike smirked snarkily. Jacob chortled. "If you say so...hold on tight."
The engine roared to life, music to Mike's ears. There was a few seconds of restless waiting for the garage to open...Mike wasn't prepared when Jacob sped off before it was even done opening.
Mike had been so wrong when he thought he knew what speed truly was. It wasn't just wind whipping your hair, legs moving into a blur, and flying with the birds. It was right there in the car, going up to two hundred miles an hour, where the wind was no longer a friend but an inseparable part of him, and the g-force was so thick that his and Jacob's faces were drawn back comically, and everything else zipped by him too quickly for him to appreciate their scenery.
Involuntarily, Mike was cheering and whooping like he never had before, and Jacob was soon to join the enthusiasm.
Detroit Deluxe had been a prison. Motorcity was where he belonged.
XXX
Oy, look, another fandom. XD Anyway, I guess I should explain some things...
Motorcityisawesomeanditsgett ingcancelledsoyoushouldtotal lywatchitandsignapetitiontob ringitbackandpostlotsoffanfi ctiontokeepthefandomgrowinga ndohmygodMikeisawesomehessuc haniceguyandabadassohmygod...
Yeah. Okay, lemme explain some other things. There was this other fic I was working on about Gorillaz, actually. I was eighty percent done with it when Microsoft Word suddenly committed suicide and now it won't let me type anything on it. It won't even let me copy and paste the story onto Notepad. Hell, this story that I wrote was used on Notepad, so there are probably dozens of spelling errors that I'm too lazy to correct. But thanks to a good friend of mine-you know who you are girl, ;)-, I've been motivated to keep working on that fic and finish it up as soon as I can. It'll probably be up in two weeks at the latest.
This story here...Well, I kinda wanted to dive into Mike's past a little more. The only thing we know about him is that he used to work for Kane. That's it. We don't know his parents, we don't know his friends...hell, we don't even know when exactly he formed the Burners. So I decided to write my own headcannon. While I personally think it came out as a little messy and rushed, I feel like it was the best I could do considering my writing style. That and I kept getting distracted with taking care of my nephew, so I was really impatient to wrap this up. But, yeah, as if you didn't guess, Mike is my fave character of the burners. My God, it is so awesome that he's not only a badass, but he's such a sweetie too. Always putting everyone's burden on himself and playing matchmaker for Chuck. I think I'm in love again~.
Ahem, anyway, if you have no idea what the hell Motorcity is, then what're you waiting for? Watch an episode, watch a clip, read some info on the show. I can guarantee you won't be dissapointed. See you again soon, readers.