Disclaimer: I don't own any 4400 characters except my own, okay?
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Chapter 1: Pilot (Part 1)
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He sat there on the piece of smooth rock, his feet on the dry ground, looking up into the twilight above him. He wore his coat tight around him, so that he couldn't feel the cold. His light brown hair, fluttered in the wintry air of December 1998. He smiled as he felt someone tapped his shoulder lightly.
"Hey, try and get some sleep alright." The deep and reassuring voice of a father said to his young adolescent son. He sighed out as white air flow out from his mouth and he rubbed his gloved hands together, to keep them warm.
"Just a bit more, dad. The sight in the mountains is always so breathtaking. You can see the stars and the moon so clear." He told him, his gaze never averted from the night sky except for his occasional blinks. He heard a snicker from his old man.
"I would agree with you, son. Too bad I have a damn truck to fix… stupid thing couldn't even drive us through the mountain range."
He smiled solemnly. "Don't worry dad, you should get some rest. We could continue tomorrow morning. If we're lucky, someone might just go pass here and notice us."
"IF we're lucky." The large man grumbled. He looked no where close his father, to tell the truth. He had sandy-colored brown hair, fair skin, and not so muscled though he swear that he did his share of body building. Most notably was his brown eyes… his father had blue eyes. Sparkling even, but he had always been proud of his son, saying that he had a 'down-to-earth' style like his mom…
Yeah. How long had it been? He couldn't remember… two, three years? "Well, suit yourself, kid. I'm going to bed. You'll find me in the driver's seat." And he heard footsteps going further, and further.
"Sure!" He replied with a cheerful tone, though it was so weak that he wasn't sure of his father had heard it. He continued looking at the dark heaven, one of the stars was shining so brightly… so beautiful. He felt like he could grab it, so he extended his right hand into the sky, and close his grasp. Laughing to himself for being a moron, he stood up and patted his jacket. And the next thing he knew, it was all blank.
A flash.
There he was, surrounded by people… lots of people… what were they doing here in the mountains? He looked around him, and a very weird feeling established in him. He felt… he felt lost… Where was he? No… that's not the right question… Where were they?
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"Returnee number 2017, please report to the front desk immediately. I repeat. Returnee number 2017…"
"That's your call." He opened his eyes, not really wanting to listen to those damn words they had to say to him. For the third- no, the fourth time including this time. What do the want with him, what do they want with them? I want to go home. He thought to himself as he got up from the corner of the walls reluctantly. He was sick. Sick of the white clothing, sick of the white walls, even sicker of the people who won't tell him a damn thing! Well, at least they had TV in this prison… He walked towards the many windows, glass, whatever. He had absolutely no interest in these things…
He pulled the chair, and sat down. There he was again. Same guy, same coat, same sunglasses. He sighed and looked at the man again. He was already at the phone… He stared at him without doing anything. The man used his finger signaling him to take the receiver up. He complied.
"Thank you for cooperation, mister Frostburg." The man said to him in his seemingly monotone voice. "Don't mention it." He told him, wondering if he should make his life miserable by yelling that they had no legal rights to hold him back or something just to piss him off, like the pair next to them in another 'glassed'. He felt like maybe they wanted to bring it out onto the street.
"Excuse me, mister Frostburg."
"Joel. Call me Joel. I'm not that old yet." He talked through the receiver, his eyes still fixed at the pair beside them through the glass. Well, at least the place is sound proof. If not, let's just say that he could talk less.
The man tilted his face. "Very well, Joel. You're born in… 1983, am I correct?"
The light-brown haired boy nodded, his hazel eyes still at the pair. He could see their throat turning red now. He smiled at the sight. "Joel. May I have your attention?"
"I'm listening."
"Can you remember what happened, anything at all?"
"The answer I'm going to give is not going to change."
"Are you sure-"
"Yeah. By the way, your cafeteria sucks." He hung up the receiver, stood up from the chair, and simply walked away. Answers had already been given, and he was not going to waste his saliva talking about something again and again. He was not in a good mood. Heck, he was sure no one in this place was in a good mood.
As he was walking out of the room, he nearly collided with a little girl. He wasn't looking, so it was his fault. Naturally, he apologized. "I'm sorry… I didn't see you."
She looked at him with her dark eyes as her golden hair lay back to her shoulders. He smiled and knelt down. "Hey sweetie, are you alright?" He asked with sincerity, but she turned and looked at one of the TV screens. A woman was definitely talking about them, the 4400s they're now called. They were rioters yelling something about revealing their names to the public.
He won't be sure if he would be safe out there.
"Everything's going to be alright." He told her, reassuring himself at the same time as he looked at the TV screen. "Everything's going to be alright."
"No." She muttered. "Everything is not alright."
Deep inside, he knew she was right. There was no way things would go back to the days they were. He had been missing since when? 1998… It didn't even make any sense to begin with. He lost nearly 6 years. He should be 21 by now, and studying in a university, getting a girl friend, and lost his first kiss.
When did things go so wrong? I missed dad, I missed my house, and I admit it. I miss school and I miss mom the most.
The girl wiped his tears away. He stared at her, and frantically stood up, brushing his tears away. "Uh… do you want to go to the cafeteria?"
The girl smiled.
"I take that as a yes." He said, as he gently took hold of her hand, and walked towards the direction of the cafeteria together. "What's your name, sweetie?"
"My name is Maia, and you're Joel." He continued walking, his mood was better. "How do you know my name Maia?
She shrugged a bit. "I just know."
