Stasis 2.6

Wednesday morning. Hump day. The first half was over, the next half was coming. Things to look forward to, like tonight's sign language training, and things I just wanted to get through, like school.

So, of course, I would have to do the latter to make it to the former.

It started the same as every other day. Classroom, reading, ignoring the jabs and comments. Math, then English.

Then came Music class.

My teachers had all been informed that I was mute, so it wasn't that I got in trouble for not participating. No, the problem came when Sarah noticed my silence.

"Miss Lawrence? Michael's not singing!" She was trying to get me in trouble; of course she was. I couldn't even enjoy listening to music without someone ruining it.

"Michael is excused from singing, obviously."

Oh no.

"Why do we have to sing and he doesn't?'

I shook my head, but Miss Lawrence didn't see it.

"Stop teasing him, Sarah. You know he lost his voice."

Silence.

No, they didn't.

S-word.

"What?" "When?" "How?" A cacophony of questions at once. Looks of triumph, of scorn, of pity, of confusion, and of discomfort. Miss Lawrence was frozen, realizing just how much she had screwed up. The classroom was in utter chaos for a minute or two before she gained control, steering us back to the song we were learning. I just sat in disbelief.

They actually hadn't even noticed. I had been gone a week (Thanksgiving week, but still), been in class three days, and they had never noticed the fact I hadn't said a word. It hadn't been announced, but I figured that at least some of them had heard. Jordan had told his entire first-grade class, and rumors got around. All the bullying since I returned had been without them even realizing I couldn't talk back, and I honestly didn't know whether them knowing would make things better or worse.

I needed a minute. I got up and took the restroom pass, ignoring the eyes on me as I strode out of the room.

Seating myself in a stall, I just took a minute to deal with this whole messed up situation. This wasn't the end of the world; it would have gotten out eventually, I just figured it already had. Just like Miss Lawrence. This wasn't her fault. This was nobody's fault, because nothing was wrong. So why do I still feel upset that they know?

Why couldn't I just get past this little speedbump?

-Shangri-La-

Nobody bothered me the rest of the day, and it was amazing.

Hah, no. First thing in lunch was an offhand comment about Sarah and me 'talking it out.' Then Ethan decided it'd be funny to take my book and pretend he was reading the back while losing my page. At least people were looking a bit uncomfortable when they looked my way. That'd help me.

Recess was worse. The ones still in on it organized a game of Marco Polo, and at some point, someone got a smart idea and called me Volume. Get it? Chubby kid who's mute? So clever. I took grim satisfaction every time someone was stupid enough to need it explained to them. By the time recess ended, I was thoroughly done with today.

But wait! I had sign language class today! I might finally be able to communicate in something closer to real time! So, I bolstered my mood, sucked it up, and headed for the tutoring center.

I got to the room and shook hands with my instructor, a Mr. Timothy Davis. He started off with a short side project, a possible short-term solution.

"Many mute people are that way through either deafness or tongue injury. However, for those with nerve or vocal cord damage, we can often train them to be able to 'talk' in what amounts to a breathy whisper that doesn't actually use throat muscles. It's not your old voice, but it's a good skill to have, and much easier to understand that tap codes or sign language."

It sounded easy enough. I tried it out, trying to say 'testing', but it felt wrong. Mr. Davis said, "Not so fast. The trick to making it audible is to basically sigh while mouthing words. Liike thiiss," he said, letting it out as a breathy hiss. I tried again.

"Tuffuuh." That wasn't right. "Suhtpht. Muhtfah. Thuhtah!" What was wrong? I could get the cadence, but 'Testing' wouldn't happen. I just wanted to be able to talk again. Why couldn't I have that?

Mr. Davis looked understanding. "Ah, that is unfortunate. Your muteness might be caused by brain injury; your speech centers might be damaged. I would recommend you get your mother to schedule an MRI, they might be able to help you with modern medicine."

I'd do one better. I pulled out my phone and asked for a minute outside. I texted Hannah.

-Shangri-La-

They had been able to work me in after my session. Perks of having a team of paid cape nerds ready to test new stuff, and an onsite state-of-the-art hospital at the HQ.

So, I was strapped to a table, my head full of mildly radioactive material, murmuring gibberish; a giant magnet hummed ominously in the walls of the tube they were sliding my head into, while guys in lab coats watched from the control panels. I found out a few things myself, while I was in that infernal machine; one, MRIs belong in a mad scientist's lab, and two, I could sort of feel something in the machine with my power. The latter was distracting enough they had to redo the scan, vowing to get back to the feeling momentarily. Thus began the infinite tunnel of power testing for the afternoon.

By the time I headed off to the Rig, I had learned like five different tidbits of information on my powers.

Things that went through walls I projected my powers onto went to my world while it was active, but often ended up halfway in a wall when the power ended and reality reasserted itself; basically, if I wanted to use my power to go through walls, I needed to make sure nothing was intersecting said walls when I stopped. I got a Stranger subrating from it though; the object or person could move undetected past the barrier, up to the edge of my current usable area, then reappear when I stopped my power. Overall, really dangerous, but also really useful.

I could feel strong electrical currents in a way that reminded me of my thermokinesis, but while it followed that I should be able to generate electricity, I couldn't figure it out. Only idea on that front was to get myself electrocuted, and I'd rather not. Did it once as a kid, not fun. Maybe if I fought an electricity-based cape I'd find out, but until then, no thanks. I did find out I could also douse flames with my powers, after an accidental explosion from one attempt.

The reason I came here to begin with had proved disappointing, however. I had no overt damage to my brain structure, but something was obviously not working. I was treated to a whole bunch of very specific neurological know-how. Basically, I couldn't remember how to mouth words, and probably couldn't learn to again either. I could still whistle, cluck, and other basic fine motor movements, but not vocal communication. I would probably never talk again.

I hated my power sometimes. I really did.

Just to top off everything, my mom texted me as I was flown up to the Rig. The church and my school had finished checking records; none of their recordings that involved me were of decent quality or length. Odds were good I would never get my old voice back.

I was tired. Tired of all the stupid little things the day had brought. Frustrated by my inability to do anything but accept it all. I needed to hit something.

Good thing I was heading to the Rig. Time for a nice, relaxing training session.

A/N: Welcome to the depths of depression, we hope you never acknowledge your stay.