Creation 1.2

My family consisted of my mother, Aurora Vanderbilt (no relation), a heavyset woman with a kind face and greying auburn hair, and my two brothers, David, a towering 15-year-old with curly black hair and glasses, and Jordan, a very recent 7 year old with wavy honey-brown hair. They were quick to rush to my bedside upon entering the room; I was quickly surrounded by my (probably worried) family, and showered in hugs (owowow) and questions, which I would have given anything to answer aloud.

Instead, I wriggled my good arm free from the group hug, wiped my eyes, and pantomimed a pencil. After one was fetched and my eyes were dry, I began to write. I hated writing, and it hated me back. I always found it so hard to express my thoughts well, and often lost track of what I planned to say as my thoughts moved on. Regardless, I couldn't speak – God, it still hurt to think that – so writing and typing would have to do.

Important things first: 'I'm so sorry about all this.' I figured the first thing to start with was an apology, followed by reasons and reper- aftermath. Stupid head. Apparently, my older brother agreed with that last thought.

"Stop there, Michael. I know you were hurting, and it's on us for not recognizing and talking to you about it. The only thing you did wrong was sitting in a window instead of taking your problems to one of us," said David, looking at me with a sad but firm expression. "Suicide is an important issue up at Arcadia, and the first thing they teach is to watch for warning signs. I missed them because I wasn't looking out for you."

My mom looked down and said, "I'm sorry too. I should've noticed. I promise, we'll get you a counselor, and I'll do my best to help you. But right now, sweetie, we have another big issue."

Another issue? What could be more important than my near death? Didn't she want to know why? I know she was trying, but it felt like I was just being belittled again.

My thoughts were cut short when Jordan piped up, "Yeah, You need a costume and stuff!" It took a second to process, then another few seconds to really hit me.

I needed a costume because I have powers. I'm a cape.

I thought back to the dream that felt too real, the spiraling things in the void, the singing and humming, and the little hints. It made sense; I either had powers, or I was crazy. It felt like a big joke to me, like at some point Jordan would go "Just kidding!" and the feelings would disappear, the dream would fade, and I would get my voice back. In the background, I saw David put his hand to his brow, and Mom wrapped my hand in hers. I took a minute to think, then asked on my pad, 'That explains a bit. What now?'

My brother answered. "Well, we have a few options. You can join the Wards – You know about them, right? You'd be young, but it's a safe option for the backup. We can just go up and get your powers tested, then let you decide from there. Or, if you prefer to ignore them, I'm sure we can keep it a secret, or pretend you don't have powers. Lastly, I'm not too sure on this, but we could see if your powers are useful in business or entertainment, and maybe let you use them for that."

I needed a minute to take that all in, and wrote as much. Thank you for not breaking my right arm, ground. Anyways, the Wards sounded like the best fit for me. I certainly wouldn't be able to ignore it, not now that I knew the singing wasn't a concussion. Huh, I got it that time. The music pulled at me, and the only reason I hadn't tried something was that I didn't think a hospital was a good place to start ranting about dreams and songs after a –that. Street performer sounded nice, but with the gangs and stuff, it probably wouldn't work out to be safe. Not to mention I had no idea what the singing did. Also, I needed a better name than singing. Resonance? Hum? Hum was shorter, but resonance fit better, so I'd try them both.

I decided to do the Wards. It'd probably be like Cub Scouts, and I needed some friends these days. Besides, as we talked it out, it seemed that Wards membership got us some extra cash, and while child support is helpful, apparently it doesn't always cover our bills, if overheard conversations are anything to go by. That set aside, I asked what the damage was.

Mom frowned. "Well, the doctors said you got lucky, although I think that had something to do with the number your powers did to the rock garden," -"It's a crater!" Jordan chimed in- "But you have a concussion, a broken left humerus and dislocated shoulder, and according to you, lost your voice, hopefully not permanently." She sighed. "Michael, I know this is a lot to take in, and I've already excused you from school for at least the next week and a half, but I want you to know that we love you, baby, and we're going to work through this together, as a family." Jordan hugged my arm as tears came to my eyes, surrounded by my family, and feeling more in touch with them now than I had since kindergarten.

We sat like that awhile, happy in the silence, until a nurse brought lunch? Dinner? No windows, no clock, no asking, and I didn't care. I was hungry, and apparently out for a day or so, so I ate like a starving man at a buffet. The food was surprisingly good, too. Hamburger steak and potatoes, green beans, and a bowl of melon, all still hot, and chocolate milk to go with it. I guess the hospital had a decent cafeteria, because unless I was getting special treatment, this was certainly worth getting mildly injured for. Not that a day unconscious was minor, but boy was it good.

I might be a little loopy.

Anyway, I then had to say goodbye to my family, who needed to get back to school. Apparently it was Monday, just past lunch. I… fell Saturday afternoon. Almost 2 days off in power-concussion-dreams. I was lucky to just be loopy. Anyway, they headed to finish their days, and I dealt with nurses and doctors poking me in painful places and pulling out various painful tubes and tube accessories, and then my Mom returned with the Wards paperwork.

We spent the next few hours looking through the various upsides and downsides of it all; therapy would be covered by their own counselor (Goodbye to my old one, good riddance!); I would get a decent college fund, maybe even enough to do more than a bachelor's due to my age; I would get a spending account, they would make my costume and stuff, and I would have people like me to talk to. Also being a reality-changing famous person who fought for justice.

Downsides included loss of control over my schedule, PR stuff, and occasional injury (all a bit more extreme than school was, but familiar), backed by an awesome health plan and world class hospital. Also, taking orders without too much wiggle room, but again, that was just school for me. As for the other downsides, I was fairly sure my mother would listen to me on most decisions she got input on. I didn't know what my powers were yet, but if I could take the fight to the Endbringers, I would only be stopped by them forcing me to stay back. I wouldn't sit back and watch while others around me fought, unless going to help wouldn't help in the slightest.

Besides, they would probably be able to get my bullies to back off, at least indirectly. There was very little they could directly do, as my bullies rarely broke rules, just talked and shunned. Even if they couldn't help, a competent therapist who didn't look at me as just a child would be plenty towards at least dealing with my problems, real or mental.

Eventually, we got them all signed, to be turned in as soon as I was able to leave the hospital. My mom then asked me if I wanted her to stay overnight, since a quick check made it clear that I could not leave today. I shook my head, then wrote that I needed to think about everything, and to get home to take care of the brothers before the house burned down. With a faked look of worry, a laugh, and a kiss on the cheek, she was gone, and I was left with my dinner and my thoughts.