I just wanted to send a special thanks to saiken2009 for all her help betaing this for me. You rock!


Mike adjusted his chair and sat down. He set his arms down on the table and rested his head in his hands, "By all means…"

"Alright well I didn't die obviously, so let me just get that part out of the way. I woke up in the middle of that same field…"

When Micky woke up he found himself in the middle of the field alone. Burn patterns were scorched into the grass surrounding him. His head was pounding and he felt like he had been run over by a dump truck. What the hell happened? And why am I out in the middle of a field sleeping by myself? Questions without answers flooded Micky's brain making the headache worse. He slowly stood up and looked around, realizing he was wearing some sort of strange contraption that looked like it had been made out of a pasta strainer, glue and random other tidbits. What is this? He looked around and spotted what was left of his computer. One single EEG report had survived, but Micky couldn't for the life of him remember what it meant.

He walked back to where his car was parked. Funny, I don't remember driving all the way out here. Papers were scattered across the ground all around the car. Micky picked some of them up and began reading. As he went through his notes page by page the events of the previous night began to come back to him. He remembered he was trying to do something to his brain to increase...something. What was it? He kept reading hoping to remember more.

10% brain function, computers, electricity, Ben Franklin...it was all coming back to him. The more he read the more he remembered. It's a good thing I take detailed notes. I would be completely lost otherwise. Suddenly he recalled packing up the car with all of his equipment and driving out to the field. So this headgear was attached to the computer I built and...HOLY SHIT I electrocuted myself, I remember now! Oh my god I actually did it! I wonder what kinds of changes are already taking place! Micky gathered up all his papers and fried equipment then packed them carefully in the car before driving home to go over his notes and the one piece of data.

When he got home, Micky noticed it took him a lot less time to empty the car than it had to pack it up. He pondered it for a moment, then brushed it off. He didn't want to get excited too quickly. Once settled he took out the first notebook he had started so many years ago. He read over all of his thoughts and predictions knowing he would need to compare them to whatever changes he would begin to feel. Strangely he felt completely normal, there wasn't even an inkling that he had been struck by lightning multiple times the night prior. Before he knew it he had finished reading his fourth notebook and happened to glance at the clock. 4:30 AM? But I got home at noon. How did time go by so fast? How did I finish all these notes in such a short amount of time? Wait…why am I not tired at all?

Micky wasn't able to fall asleep until well after 7 AM. When he finally did, however, he was completely dead to the world. He hadn't heard his parents or sister calling for him and when they tried to shake him awake he barely responded. He slept for 12 hours before groggily opening his eyes. He looked at the clock in shock. 7:50 PM, that can't be right. I've never slept that long in my life! What in the world is going on here?

Micky's thoughts were racing; he couldn't seem to keep to one train of thought. As soon as one thought entered his mind it was gone and replaced with something else. He couldn't keep up! Man if I don't slow down I'm gonna lose it! Micky sat down with the EEG report and tried his hardest to concentrate. It took him a few tries, but finally he was able to focus solely on reading the report. From the looks of it, this was the last report to print out before the computer blew.

Micky was amazed by what he saw. Can this really be right? These readings show my responses at least 50 times the normal rate! This looks more like a reading from someone having a seizure than a normal brain function. I wonder if I did seize; and if I did, what effect will it have on what happens now? So many things I didn't think of before; so many things I should have known. The hindsight went on and on until Micky just couldn't handle it anymore. I need something to do; something to focus on! He went back to the EEG report. He realized what had happened, and there was no way to reverse it.

"Merciful heavens, Micky, you hotwired your brain?" Mike couldn't believe what he was hearing. How could he have been so careless.

"Not my whole brain, Mike," Micky answered, "See what happened was when the lightning hit the helmet I thought it would disperse evenly, but I was wrong. What actually happened was the electricity pulsed through my hypothalamus, which is basically the control center of the brain, and sent it into overdrive. I guess you could call that hotwiring if you wanted to." Micky's voice was calm as he gave his little speech, the shock and panic had worn away for him long ago. Mike could only shake his head in disbelief.

"Micky," Davy started. He wasn't exactly sure of how to word what he wanted to say to the drummer. "Were you ever checked by a doctor? I know you didn't see one right away, but surely you got yourself checked out. Didn't you?" He covered his eyes; afraid to hear what he knew was probably coming.

"Not really," Micky thought about it a moment. "I mean I've had checkups since then, but I never went specifically for that. I'm doing just fine don't worry!"

"We have to worry about you Micky!" Peter spat out, "You're our roommate, you're part of the band, and you're our brother. What if you aren't ok?" Peter was hysterical by this point so Mike and Davy reached out to comfort the distraught bassist.

Micky looked to his brothers with a heartfelt look, "I know you guys are worried, believe me. If I had any inkling anything was wrong I would be the first to go to get checked out. But, I've been like this a long time now and I promise," he held up his two fingers, "scouts honor, I am perfectly fine. Now can I finish, I promise I'm almost done!"

He didn't realize until he noticed a burning smell that he was pacing so hard the rug was beginning to smoke. He bolted out of his room, running past both his parents and sister as if they weren't even there, and out of the house. Too confined, too confined, too confined! His family stared after him in shock; none uttering a word, but all sharing the same thought. I'm worried about that boy.

As he ran from the house, Micky realized he had nowhere to go, so he ventured back to the same field where he started this whole mess. Maybe I can get some peace in having wide open space to work in. Once there he walked out to the middle, much as he had done that first time, and lay down in the grass closing his eyes. Thoughts continued to race in and out of his mind and as hard as he tried to concentrate on one at time it just wasn't happening. He threw his arms down to his sides and absentmindedly began tapping out a beat on the ground below.

Micky's hands began moving faster and harder and his feet started to join in. When he finally noticed what he was doing he was having an all-out "drum" solo in the grass. He let his mind go and let the noises he was making take over. Pretty soon the beat was so complex that even the most experienced drummer would have had trouble following. Not too bad for someone who had never even been behind a drum kit in his life.

Micky grinned to himself as he kept going until not a single thought was left in his head; only the music. What a wonderful escape from a chaotic brain. I need to get myself a drum set I think. Yes, definitely. He got up and ran back home determined to convince his parents into letting him buy a drum set.