intheheart (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
intheheart) wrote2012-02-28 02:27 pm
intheheart) wrote2012-02-28 02:27 pm
Homecoming
Title: Homecoming
Rating: PG-13.
Summary: Michael Sierbenski in ten songs.
Notes: I cannot thank Kelly enough for all their help and input into this. Thank you, bb. <3 Michael played by Michael Weatherly, and if there was more space on this mix, there would be a lot more Johnny Cash.
Warnings: Subtle ableism, child abuse and neglect.
My Shit's Fucked Up, Warren Zevon
Well, I went to the doctor
I said, "I'm feeling kind of rough"
"Let me break it to you, son--
Your shit's fucked up."
He'd been fragile his whole life, and it sucked.
He broke his arm when he was three weeks old, flailing against the side of his crib. That was the first of thirty-three broken bones from ages zero to eighteen, and he'd stopped counting after that.
He had to be careful with every step he took, because if he fell, he'd break something. He was in pain most of the time, from a healing break or a microfracture. He could practically apply a cast himself, despite no medical training.
He hated it, but what could he do?
Life's Gonna Suck, Dennis Leary
Life's gonna suck when you grow up,
When you grow up, when you grow up
Life's gonna suck when you grow up,
It sucks pretty bad right now
Of course, his whole life sucked, pretty much. The OI was just the most obvious part.
It began with his father, absent emotionally and then physically. It continued to his mother, hysterically smothering. It moved on to his hometown, the dusty sidewalks and dead-end streets and despairing air of a dying town. The weather, hot and aching. The fires that left ash in the back of his throat. He hated Texas and everything in it.
He was pretty sure that life wasn't ever going to stop sucking.
But it had to suck less than here.
Real World, Matchbox Twenty
Straight up, what did you hope to learn about here?
If I were someone else, would this all fall apart?
Strange, where were you when we started this gig,
I wish the real world would just stop hassling me
He lived most of his life in dreams.
He bought an iPod just before they ran; turned out to be the best purchase of his life. He could just turn it on, lean his head against the bus window, close his eyes and instantly be far away, with a body that wasn't broken, in a life he'd chosen instead of the one he'd been pushed into, Danny by his side and a cool beer in his hand.
Someone always pulled him out of it. Someone always tapped his shoulder or yelled at him.
It was wonderful while it lasted.
I've Been Everywhere, Johnny Cash
Crossed the deserts bare, man.
I've breathed the mountain air, man.
Of travel I've had my share, man.
I've been everywhere.
The rattling vibrations of buses, the endless drone of airplane engines, the smooth rocking of a train-- it was all more familiar to him than a bed that stood still. Hotel rooms were more home to him than the house he'd grown up in.
At first it was just running, trying to find a place far enough away. As he got older, it became exploration, learning, writing up his experiences for other people who didn't have his chances. Even older and it turned into something else, something more aching.
He loved to explore. He just wished for a home, too.
Hello Seattle, Owl City
Hello Seattle, I am a cold seahorse
Feeling warm in your sand
I sing about the tide and the ocean surf
Rolling in the evening breeze
Something about Seattle called to him. He never knew just what it was.
The wash of the waves in Puget Sound, the boats sounding their horns to each other, echoing over the ocean. The wind against his face, the spectacular sunsets, the clouds fuzzy and stretched above them. The way the skyline lit up at night, the light-born arches of the bridges, everything.
He never knew just what it was. But Seattle always felt like home.
Homecoming (Walter's Song), Vienna Teng
Well, we all write our own endings
And we all have our own scars
But tonight I think I see what it's all about
Because I've come home
Joy fell asleep on the plane ride, her head heavy on his shoulder, and Michael let her stay there, listening to her breathe softly in and out under his ear. The roar of the engines was lulling, familiar. Seattle was waiting, ahead in the mist, its lights lit up like a landing strip to guide him in. Danny's apartment key snugged tight in the front pocket of his jeans. And Joy slept beside him, her body heat reminding him that he wasn't alone, would never be alone again.
To think he'd thought he'd never have a home.
Mother, John Lennon
I wanted you but you didn't want me
So I got to tell you goodbye, goodbye
His father definitely didn't want him. But Michael thought, in a weird way, neither did his mother.
She was so obsessive about taking care of him, so hypervigilant that he rarely took a step without her supervision, and yet he can count on one hand the number of times she said she loved him. Unlike Danny, who said it every night-- "Love you, brat, now go to sleep." His sister meant it. His mother...
His father didn't want him. Michael was pretty sure neither of his parents did.
My Hometown, Bowling For Soup
I hope this song finds you well.
And I hope that you're doin' fuckin' swell.
I hope that you're back up cause I know you've been down.
I just wish you'd get the fuck out of our hometown.
For a few years after they ran, he lost track of Danny.
Which was not to say that he didn't know where she was. They emailed, called and wrote postcards, kept in touch as best they could, but it wasn't the same. He missed her more than he could imagine.
She was so angry, too. To him she was always kind, but he could still hear in her voice how angry she was, at everything. It wasn't until she first mentioned Nathan that the anger began to ease.
Michael was always grateful to Nathan for that.
Downhome Aphrodite, Seanan McGuire
She was a downhome Aphrodite and the world was in her smile
And the minute that I saw her, lord, I knew I’d stay a while
And I said ‘Darling...will you be my shining star?'
Joy was a miracle. He really didn't know how else to put it.
She was so aptly named. He'd never met anyone as pleased with the world as she was, never known anyone so relentlessly happy. Not that she forced that happiness on people. She just looked for the bright side in her own life, and tried to show it to others, if she thought they were ready to listen.
She never needed to show him the bright side, though. She was his bright side.
Maybe someday he'd get up the courage to tell her that.
Life Is a Highway, Rascal Flatts
There's no load I can't hold
Road so rough this I know
I'll be there when the light comes in
Just tell 'em we're survivors
He was a survivor.
From OI to his fucked-up childhood to his years of drifting, he'd always survived, always pushed through it and kept on going. Danny and Joy said he was strong, but he didn't think so-- he was surviving, just like them.
There wasn't any glory in surviving; you played the cards fate dealt you as they came. But there was a life he liked, his sister and his wife, his friends, the city he loved.
He was a survivor, and he was going to go right on surviving. No matter what.
Rating: PG-13.
Summary: Michael Sierbenski in ten songs.
Notes: I cannot thank Kelly enough for all their help and input into this. Thank you, bb. <3 Michael played by Michael Weatherly, and if there was more space on this mix, there would be a lot more Johnny Cash.
Warnings: Subtle ableism, child abuse and neglect.
Well, I went to the doctor
I said, "I'm feeling kind of rough"
"Let me break it to you, son--
Your shit's fucked up."
He'd been fragile his whole life, and it sucked.
He broke his arm when he was three weeks old, flailing against the side of his crib. That was the first of thirty-three broken bones from ages zero to eighteen, and he'd stopped counting after that.
He had to be careful with every step he took, because if he fell, he'd break something. He was in pain most of the time, from a healing break or a microfracture. He could practically apply a cast himself, despite no medical training.
He hated it, but what could he do?
Life's gonna suck when you grow up,
When you grow up, when you grow up
Life's gonna suck when you grow up,
It sucks pretty bad right now
Of course, his whole life sucked, pretty much. The OI was just the most obvious part.
It began with his father, absent emotionally and then physically. It continued to his mother, hysterically smothering. It moved on to his hometown, the dusty sidewalks and dead-end streets and despairing air of a dying town. The weather, hot and aching. The fires that left ash in the back of his throat. He hated Texas and everything in it.
He was pretty sure that life wasn't ever going to stop sucking.
But it had to suck less than here.
Straight up, what did you hope to learn about here?
If I were someone else, would this all fall apart?
Strange, where were you when we started this gig,
I wish the real world would just stop hassling me
He lived most of his life in dreams.
He bought an iPod just before they ran; turned out to be the best purchase of his life. He could just turn it on, lean his head against the bus window, close his eyes and instantly be far away, with a body that wasn't broken, in a life he'd chosen instead of the one he'd been pushed into, Danny by his side and a cool beer in his hand.
Someone always pulled him out of it. Someone always tapped his shoulder or yelled at him.
It was wonderful while it lasted.
Crossed the deserts bare, man.
I've breathed the mountain air, man.
Of travel I've had my share, man.
I've been everywhere.
The rattling vibrations of buses, the endless drone of airplane engines, the smooth rocking of a train-- it was all more familiar to him than a bed that stood still. Hotel rooms were more home to him than the house he'd grown up in.
At first it was just running, trying to find a place far enough away. As he got older, it became exploration, learning, writing up his experiences for other people who didn't have his chances. Even older and it turned into something else, something more aching.
He loved to explore. He just wished for a home, too.
Hello Seattle, I am a cold seahorse
Feeling warm in your sand
I sing about the tide and the ocean surf
Rolling in the evening breeze
Something about Seattle called to him. He never knew just what it was.
The wash of the waves in Puget Sound, the boats sounding their horns to each other, echoing over the ocean. The wind against his face, the spectacular sunsets, the clouds fuzzy and stretched above them. The way the skyline lit up at night, the light-born arches of the bridges, everything.
He never knew just what it was. But Seattle always felt like home.
Well, we all write our own endings
And we all have our own scars
But tonight I think I see what it's all about
Because I've come home
Joy fell asleep on the plane ride, her head heavy on his shoulder, and Michael let her stay there, listening to her breathe softly in and out under his ear. The roar of the engines was lulling, familiar. Seattle was waiting, ahead in the mist, its lights lit up like a landing strip to guide him in. Danny's apartment key snugged tight in the front pocket of his jeans. And Joy slept beside him, her body heat reminding him that he wasn't alone, would never be alone again.
To think he'd thought he'd never have a home.
I wanted you but you didn't want me
So I got to tell you goodbye, goodbye
His father definitely didn't want him. But Michael thought, in a weird way, neither did his mother.
She was so obsessive about taking care of him, so hypervigilant that he rarely took a step without her supervision, and yet he can count on one hand the number of times she said she loved him. Unlike Danny, who said it every night-- "Love you, brat, now go to sleep." His sister meant it. His mother...
His father didn't want him. Michael was pretty sure neither of his parents did.
I hope this song finds you well.
And I hope that you're doin' fuckin' swell.
I hope that you're back up cause I know you've been down.
I just wish you'd get the fuck out of our hometown.
For a few years after they ran, he lost track of Danny.
Which was not to say that he didn't know where she was. They emailed, called and wrote postcards, kept in touch as best they could, but it wasn't the same. He missed her more than he could imagine.
She was so angry, too. To him she was always kind, but he could still hear in her voice how angry she was, at everything. It wasn't until she first mentioned Nathan that the anger began to ease.
Michael was always grateful to Nathan for that.
She was a downhome Aphrodite and the world was in her smile
And the minute that I saw her, lord, I knew I’d stay a while
And I said ‘Darling...will you be my shining star?'
Joy was a miracle. He really didn't know how else to put it.
She was so aptly named. He'd never met anyone as pleased with the world as she was, never known anyone so relentlessly happy. Not that she forced that happiness on people. She just looked for the bright side in her own life, and tried to show it to others, if she thought they were ready to listen.
She never needed to show him the bright side, though. She was his bright side.
Maybe someday he'd get up the courage to tell her that.
There's no load I can't hold
Road so rough this I know
I'll be there when the light comes in
Just tell 'em we're survivors
He was a survivor.
From OI to his fucked-up childhood to his years of drifting, he'd always survived, always pushed through it and kept on going. Danny and Joy said he was strong, but he didn't think so-- he was surviving, just like them.
There wasn't any glory in surviving; you played the cards fate dealt you as they came. But there was a life he liked, his sister and his wife, his friends, the city he loved.
He was a survivor, and he was going to go right on surviving. No matter what.