Disclaimer: I don't own any 4400 characters except Joel Frostburg and all my original characters.

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Chapter 2: Pilot (part 2)

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Joel now stood in front of two complete strangers, together with an agent from NTAC. He was shocked, to say the least. Well, anyone would be shocked… especially when Joel was just told that his father was long gone. Six-feet-under. He was angry, angry that they didn't tell him this. He was fine, living alone in his father's house as long as everyone continued to ignore the fact that he was one of the forty-four hundred, if it was still there.

"Joel, meet your new parents. These are-"

"Why didn't you tell me earlier?" He asked the agent, angry brown eyes staring at him. No, his anger was not going to stop there. Oh no… The happiness of the returnees would not douse this flame so easily. His fists clenched as each breath became harder than the one before. "I had been kept here for six weeks, and now you tell me that my father is dead! God!" He shouted, some of the people began to take notice of him.

"Please Joel, calm down." And the two firm hands took hold of his shoulders, his eyes trying to penetrate the black glasses the man wore. He gritted his teeth as he pushed the man's hands away. "Please understand that we cannot inform you of anything from the outside that concerns about you. This is standard protocol."

He turned around, away from the agent, away from the two strangers behind him, a man and a woman. "I'm sorry, but I… let me think about it." He muttered under his breath as he looked out the many glass windows. He could see the smiles and laughter of the people as the boarded on the buses or into their cars. Why? Why wouldn't things continue just as they were? First, his mother. Now… he lost the only person he loved most.

They took me. He thought to himself. Why wouldn't they just me die? What is my purpose of being left alive?

Suddenly, he remembered something… Something he thought he would never had said. "I have relatives… my grandparents in fact. They disowned my father when he decided to run away from my mom…" He told him as he gazed outside. He was wearing a simple T-shirt and a pair of jeans, as well as the pair of sneakers he was wearing before he left them behind to the 'people' for the white uniforms.

"No."

"Like I'm going to listen." And he ran towards the automated doors, going past a few returnees as he dashed through the door as the sunlight pouring down on him. He didn't stop as he continued to run.

The man in the suit was going to stop the boy, but the man behind him told him to stop. Sunglasses apologized for Joel's odd behavior, but the well-dresses elderly man shook his head. Signaling to him that it was alright and all went well. They exchanged a few more words, and the couple, hand in hand, left the man behind. Baffled.

As the two left the quarantine, the elderly man patted at his wife's shoulder softly as the elderly woman with curly gray hair looked at her husband. "Don't worry, Adelaide. Everything will be alright. We promised him that we will take care of things, didn't we?"

The plump granny sighed, but she nodded. "I could see our son's shadow in him. He has the same character as his father, such rebellious spirit."

The old man laughed heartily as they approached a black limousine, the driver promptly got out from his seat and opened the door for his master and mistress to enter. "He is our grandchild, and speaking of characters, didn't rebellious always run in our blood and veins?"

She could only smile, and looked at the clear blue sky above them. She silently prayed, and she entered the car gracefully, followed by her gentleman of a husband.

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The boy sipped his cup of coffee as his dark hair reflected the sunlight that was directly above him. He sat there, on one of the many chairs that were aligned outside the café. He looked at one of the passing girls, earning him a few giggles from them. He smiled. He had changed, and quite a lot too. Last time, he used to be one of those more reserved 'country boy', now he was proud to say that he had changed.

Suddenly, the voices came through his earrings, making him nearly spilled his coffee on to the pavement. What a waste, he thought to himself as he winked at a passing lady wearing a business suit, who gave him an interested look and walked away.

"I hope you're not flirting with girls." The feminine voice patched through his earrings. They looked like they were made of sapphire, but they were really alien objects that were unique. Out of this world.

"Don't worry, I'm doing my job here as best I can. Plus, I'm quite enjoying this place." He said, as natural as one could be and then pulled back both of his side burns. They grew a bit long and out of place…

"STOP playing with your sideburns please. Well, accomplish what you are sent there to do as quickly as possible so that I can bring you to the other side."

He smiled, as bright as the sunshine. "Sure!"

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Joel lay back on his seat in the bus. It had been so long since he could be as comfortable as this. Silently, he took out his wallet, and opened it. At least his money and his IDs were still in there, so no worries for now. He looked at his photograph as he took it out, their photograph. Him, his dad, and mom.

In that picture frozen in time, he was holding hands with his mother, and his father, the big man was holding them like a doll. His mother, who was already weak from her condition, looked even frailer as her long, brown hair flowed down her shoulder like a waterfall; her dispirited eyes looked at the camera weakly, the essence of life slowly drained away.

"Father… mother…"

After the muttering, he put the photograph back into his wallet, folded it, and put it back into his pocket and he looked out of the windows, thinking back. He had made friends with a few of the forty four hundreds…

He met a woman… a teacher, actually. She had long golden hair, let loose. She was miserable, just like the rest of us, but she never gave up hope, saying that they would let us out one day, as they could never keep us in quarantine forever. I admired her strength, her unwavering courage in this kind of times.

Then he had also met Maia Ruttledge, a peculiar but cure girl who had always 'warned' him of their impending meetings like "We'll meet tomorrow" and "The man wants to talk to you." Well, her 'predictions' were coming true, as long as he wanted to know. She also told him that they would meet again, though she never said when.

After that, he had a pleasant meeting with a certain Shawn Farell… He shook his head at the thought of him. They were born at the same year, but they were at different age. He was tired of such contradictions…