Thick as Thieves chapter 11
"Your behaviour's been inexcusable lately," Taylor scolded, looking at his son with a bitter disappointment. Michael was standing on the other side of the desk, his head bowed.
"Inexcusable?" he scorned, and he raised his head briefly to meet his father's angry gaze. "Come on, dad."
"Let me finish," he snapped. "If you were anybody else you wouldn't still be standing here in that uniform. I'm not sure why you and Skye have been going OTG but it needs to stop. She could've been seriously hurt out there today."
"It's just a sprain," Michael argued, although this only contributed to his father's rage.
"That's not the point. What if you were attacked? You know the Sixers are still lurking around out there. They could have jumped you. You put her in serious danger."
"I wouldn't have let that happen!" Michael almost yelled, resenting his father's words. "She's like a sister to me; if anything happened, I would have protected her."
"But you didn't, did you?"
Michael bit his tongue.
Taylor sighed. "What has been the matter with you lately?"
"Nothing," he insisted.
The Commander took a hard look at his child and frowned. "You have a responsibility here, Michael."
"I know. I'm not a kid anymore, dad."
"Then stop acting like one," he retorted, coming closer. "No more trips outside the gates without my permission, no more sneaking around behind my back and pulling stunts like you did today, gottit?"
"It was just a bit of fun, dad. I didn't intend for – "
"I said, do you understand?"
Michael paused, chewing his lower lip in annoyance. His father's eyes were hard and fierce.
"Yessir," he said. "I understand."
"Good." He sat back down at his desk, refusing to look up at him. "You can go now."
Michael sighed, lowering his gaze to the floor. It wasn't very often that his father chastised him. Being at the receiving end of his anger felt almost foreign. He already had one son as a disappointment, he didn't want another. What made it worse was that he knew he deserved it. Skye was so persuasive with her mischief, encouraging a side to Michael that he had tried to repress in his line of duty and status as a Corporal. His father was right to remind him of his responsibilities. He was foolish and immature to go gallivanting off with teenagers to play stupid games.
On this occasion they had gone OTG simply for a walk. Originally their trips had been to continue the search for Lucas, but as time went on and the trail grew colder, it began to be more about themselves than Lucas.
"Have you ever climbed a tree before?" queried Skye earlier that day as they passed through the woods.
Michael had smiled at her, remembering the big tree from his childhood; its withering branches, its rotting leaves, the laughs from he and Lucas as they climbed higher and higher. "Once," he answered.
Skye then asked if she could climb the tree, to which Michael immediately refused: "No, no, no," he said. "No way. Too dangerous."
She rolled her eyes. "What if I die tomorrow?" she argued. "And my one wish was to climb this tree?" She approached a tall one, running her hand along the smooth bark. "And I never got to? How would you feel?" She watched Michael hesitating and she smiled playfully at him. "Are you really going to deny me my dying wish?"
He was easy to break. She got her wish. She was up there like a shot, grabbing at the branches, pulling herself up with ease. Michael watched her carefully, his heart jumping every time she missed a branch, or every time he heard a twig snap. When Michael told her to stop, she kept going. Higher and higher. When he told her to get down, she exclaimed that she couldn't hear him. Then Michael heard a crack and she came tumbling down that tree just as Lucas had all those years ago.
Skye didn't cry like Lucas did. She was a little beaten up, but she'd survive.
He saw her waiting outside. She frowned sympathetically at him and followed him down the steps. Her arm was in a cast.
"I heard everything. I'm sorry, I'll talk to him."
"It's fine, I can handle it," he insisted. "Besides he's right. I shouldn't have let you go OTG."
"You know I would have gone with or without you, right?" she smirked, trying to keep up with his pace.
"Not funny, Skye."
"I'm being serious. Hunter's already asked if he can come on one of our walks with us. I said I'd think about it."
"Well, you can tell him no. No more walks, okay?"
She rolled her eyes back. "Look, I know you're worried about me but there's really no need –"
He stopped and turned to look at her, a flash of anger across his pale face. "Yes, there is a need, Skye. You don't respect the rules. And you know what? They're there for a good reason. It's so irresponsible kids like you don't do something crazy and hurt yourself. You're a prime example of why these rules are here in the first place. You're like a magnet for disaster. Not everything has to be some big adventure!"
He regretted it as soon as he said it. Seeing the hurt in her eyes, her angered frown, he pursed his lips together, wishing he could take it back. But it was too late. She walked away.
"Skye, wait!" he called, watching her move further away from him. He released a frustrated sigh, giving up and heading in to the opposite direction.
"What's her deal?" Wash asked, approaching him. Michael didn't answer. "So the Commander tore you a new one, huh?"
"Not now, Alicia. I'm not in the mood," he muttered, walking away from her. Wash caught up to him.
"Actually, I think it's the perfect time – what were you thinking?"
"I dunno."
"Exactly. You weren't thinking, Michael. Skye could have been seriously hurt."
"I know."
She slammed a hand in to his chest, stopping him in his tracks. "I know things have been tough but this isn't helping. She's a bad influence on you."
"She's just a kid!"
"Yeah, and you're the adult. You need to act like one. The tenth pilgrimage is due soon, you better sort yourself out before then."
"I'm fine," he groaned.
"You don't seem it."
"What do you care anyway?" he questioned. "You're not my girlfriend anymore." And with that, he walked away, leaving Lieutenant Washington watching as he sank in to the distance.
He ended up at Boylan's. He hadn't intended to, but he needed a friend, not to mention a strong drink.
"You look rough," Boylan commented as Michael handed him over the terras.
"Thanks," Michael replied, sarcasm in his voice. Boylan smiled sympathetically and Michael sighed. "My dad," he said, and that was all he needed to say.
Boylan's expression darkened at the mention of him, his nose wrinkled in disgust. "He puts too much pressure on ya," he mumbled. "On everyone. He's a hypocrite."
Michael stared blankly at his cup. "Nah," he said. "He's right. I messed up. I disappointed him."
"You'll go outta your mind if you try to live up to his expectations. Don't worry about impressing him. He ain't worth it."
Michael smiled sadly at him. He appreciated his kindness. Tom always knew what to say. He was almost like a second father figure to him. Always looking out for him. It made Michael wonder if he had any kids of his own, but he never asked.
Boylan leant a little closer then, lowering his voice. "Look, I got another message for ya. From Mira."
"Again?" Michael whispered, distressed.
"She wants to meet you in the usual place."
"I can't keep doing this," Michael hissed.
"Then you shouldn't have done whatever it was you did to get involved with her in the first place."
He shook his head bitterly. He couldn't change that now, and even if he had the chance he wouldn't. Not for the world.
"My father will kill me if he finds out."
"She probably just wants to scare ya," Boylan murmured. "I'll come with ya."
"No, it's okay," Michael sighed, getting to his feet. "This is something I should do by myself."
Boylan nodded, empathising with the boy. Having dealt with Mira for months now he could understand Michael's trepidation. He hoped he knew what he was doing. He wished him good luck.
Michael arrived at the meeting place. He was aware that this broke his father's demands, but he didn't have a choice. He still owed Mira a debt. She emerged from the bushes, a small group of Sixers trailing behind her, armed with guns. Michael held his hands up to show that he was unarmed, then he noticed Mira's look of fury and he felt his heart pound.
"I need more time," he mumbled.
"You've had long enough," she spat.
"You don't understand. It's not that simple."
"I told you where it is, how much simpler can it be?"
He shook his head vigorously. "I can't do this for you."
"You can and you will. You owe me a favour."
"Don't you think people will notice me breaking in to your house? Everyone knows you used to live there. I can't do it."
"Like I said, you owe me. Your precious Lieutenant Washington would be dead right now if it wasn't for me."
Michael glared at her, his breathing heavy. "I don't have to do this. I don't owe you anything. I've taken a big enough risk just by agreeing to meet you."
He could see she was angry by the way her teeth were grinding together and how her eyes pierced in to him so fiercely. He thought he had won but then Mira nodded to two of the men behind her, one of whom grabbed Michael violently and held his arms behind his back.
"Hey! Get off me!" he yelled before being met with the force of the other guy's fist. Groggily, he fell back in to the first guy's arms, and then in his blurred haze he saw the butt of a gun coming towards him, then blackness.
For a while there was nothing. Then, in the safety of unconsciousness, he thought he heard a child laughing.
"Lucas?"
"Gettup," he said. Then the voice became female: "I said get up."
He felt someone pull him up to his feet. Barely able to stand, he squinted through his sore eyes and saw Mira frowning at him.
"Are you with us?"
"What?" he said, his head pounding, his blood pumping in his ears.
"Do you know where you are?" she questioned.
Michael looked around him, realising he was in some kind of treehouse. "Where?" he asked groggily, struggling weakly against the Sixers who were gripping on to him.
"This is where we live," she announced, glancing around the site. "It's not much but it's home."
"Home," he repeated. "How can this be home? Terra Nova was your home before you turned against it." There was hate in his voice.
Mira smiled. "I have something to show you. Something that will convince you to help us."
"I'll never help you," Michael spat as he was dragged to a small corner of the treehouse. "I would never betray my father. You people are traitors. All of you."
Mira stopped him and indicated to a sleeping figure curled up behind her. She was lying on a makeshift bed with a blanket pulled over her. Michael saw her face, her pale features. She was sick. Then as he stepped closer, he recognised her.
"Is that…Deborah Tate? But…but she's dead."
Mira stopped him from walking any further. "As you can clearly see, she lives."
"But how? I don't understand. Does Skye know she's alive?"
"All you need to know is that if you don't get us what we need then she won't be." She glanced back at Mrs Tate sleeping, oblivious to all of this. "She has Syncillic Fever. As you know we have the medicine for it. But if you don't get what I ask for, we'll let her die."
"You can't!"
"We will." She stepped close to him, her dark gaze glaring through him. "Don't underestimate us, Michael."
He stared at her, his heart racing, his head still thumping. He paused for a beat, searching for any potential way out of this, then he sighed, giving in.
"If I get it, will you let her free?" Her silence wasn't reassuring. "Please. We have a new doctor coming on the tenth pilgrimage. She could help her."
"I'll consider it." Her jaw stiffened, her muscles tensing. "Now get me that box."
He couldn't be sure if she was telling the truth or not, but he couldn't refuse now. He glanced over at Skye's mother again, thinking about how he would give anything to have his mother back, how he risked everything to save Wash. He couldn't let Deborah die. "Okay," he answered. "I'll do it."
Mira smirked triumphantly. "Take him back to his precious Terra Nova."
"You're not gonna knock me out again, are you?" Michael asked.
"No," she replied, amused. "Blindfold." And she was the last thing he saw before darkness covered his vision.
Hours later, Mira found herself in the jungle again, pacing the ground impatiently. She was waiting for the next Taylor boy to show up. He emerged – late again – from the shadows, sporting a couple of scars across his neck. Mira raised an eyebrow.
"About time you showed up, Jungle Boy," she muttered impatiently.
"Do you have it?" he snarled, his eyes wild. He looked tired, filthy. His clothes were torn and ragged, his hair in messy clumps. He looked an awful sight compared to his brother.
"Soon," she said.
"How soon?"
Mira glared at him. "Soon enough. And your own dear brother is going to deliver it to us."
"Michael?" he scoffed. "How did you rope him in to something so devious? My father's precious golden boy would never betray him."
She smirked. "It's all about leverage," she answered, looking pleased with herself. "In the meantime, we have the girl to get us intel."
"I don't care about that," he snapped. "All I want is that box - all I want is that colony ripped to shreds, with my father on his knees, begging me to forgive him."
"So much anger," Mira commented unsympathetically, watching the hate gleam in his eyes. "What exactly did Taylor do to you?"
"Just get me the box," he seethed, barely controlling his temper.
"You'll get it. You just have to be patient."
"I'm not known for my patience," he hissed, slinking back in to the darkness.
"He's cute," Mira called after him. "Your brother. Like a lost puppy. But I see the resemblance."
Lucas froze, turning slowly to glare at her, his frown deepening.
"You look very similar," she continued, fully aware that the mention of the likeness between Lucas and his brother infuriated him.
"He's nothing like me," he muttered before disappearing again.
TBC
A/N: Hope you enjoyed the chapter! This should be the last 'flashback chapter' before the tenth pilgrimage come and the Shannons arrive! Thanks so much for reading and please review! :)