Birds || Fuenciado

Epilogue

* * * * * 1 MONTH LATER* * * * *

"Mike, you don't need to rush!" I laugh as Mike frantically ties the laces on his shoes. I stand in the doorway, arms linked with Jaime, twirling the car keys around my finger. "We're in plenty of time."

Mike's only response is to giggle, and he appears to be struggling due to how much his hands are shaking - for once, not from panic, not from trauma and also not from a pending seizure; he's shaking with total, unbound excitement and thrill, and, when I look at Tony, he's shaking slightly as well; hiding it by bouncing onto his toes and then rocking back onto his heels. In his hand he's holding the tickets, the email reference and the lanyards they were sent in the mail marking them out as backstage guests. I have to say - their energy is making me excited too, and I'm not even going to the gig.

"You two have your plans set out?" Mom asks, turning off her laptop, finished work for today. Jaime smiles and nods.

"Yep. We'll find a McDonald's and just hang around nearby until they're ready to go."

"And you," Mom continues, getting up from the chair and walking over to Mike as he stands up, offering her hand, letting him touch his fingers to hers and lock them, "are going to be careful, yes?"

"Yep."

"You'll call your brother if you need to?"

"I will."

"Do you have your dog tag?"

He smiles and lifts up the tag from round his neck, and Mom sighs, a little nervous, clearly, but smiles anyway. "My only other request is to make sure you have fun. The both of you."

"We will!" They chorus, and Mike breaks away from Mom and takes Tony's hand. Before Jaime and I step away from the doorway, Dad raises a hand, interjecting.

"Mike! Son, if you have time, could you buy me something from the merch stand?"

"Dad is the true emo of the house," I say dryly to Jaime, who giggles and kisses my temple. And then, with everyone all set and ready to go, Mike shrugs on his jacket and we leave the house.

Mike and Tony practically gallop down the garden path to the car doors, pulling them open once I've unlocked it, rolling into the seats. Tony prompts Jaime to hurry up as he closes the door, and we simply look at each other and giggle, shaking our heads, before breaking apart and getting into the car ourselves. The both of us are being infected by Tony and Mike's good mood - and with good reason, I suppose. In fact, we're in generally good moods as things are; I've had my first week back at work this week, the first in six weeks altogether, since all this started - and it was actually completely bearable. Mom got that job Sarah fixed her up with, and she's earning again. Properly. She's not only matching the pay of her last job but going above and beyond it, and she's earning enough for Dad to be able to cut an entire day's work per week. He still works a full five days; but he no longer needs to worry about adding up the extra and he's home by three o'clock every day.

And we've actually had family time. For the first time in so long, we've all had time together, and as little as Mike talks these days it's still better than it used to be.

Mike had his second session of CBT yesterday, now we finally have the money together, and it seems to be helping an astonishing amount. Admittedly, it's difficult for him to do; the process involves thoroughly reliving the assault in detail to try and decondition the trauma, which...is not very nice. But combining it with trips to Infinity Project twice a week, life is liveable again. It isn't great. It isn't as things were. But that's something we've learned, I suppose - you have to work with what you have, no matter how much or little it may be. And you can.