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lambourngb · 5 years ago

Note

Duty of Care and /or Gravedigger’s Union

I did Grave Dancer’s Union - a nod to my 90s love of Soul Asylum here.

Duty of Care was another torture Michael fic- I wrote it pre-season 2, when I thought the love triangle was going in a particular way. I don’t know if there’s still an appetite to season 1 au stories? There’s some season 1 characterization of Alex ahead, particularly in regards to Jesse.

Here’s what I had - some of which already appeared here before Last Year’s Wishes ate my brain.

****

“Can’t believe Maria is still wearing the pendant of alien poison around her neck while she dates your alien ass, Guerin..” Kyle commented watching the decay values multiply as Liz titrated pollen into the samples.

The current theory on alien resurrection, and it said a lot about his life that he had competing theories on alien-involved resurrection, was that their ability to manipulate energy changed based on their needed life skills at the time of adolescence. Michael had been separated from his siblings young, and needed to develop defensive skills. The defiant and pained look on his face when he explained stopping an item being hurled at his head at the age of 7 was a needed survival tactic courtesy of foster homes he had passed through kept Kyle from questioning any further.

Isobel had through her mother Ann’s never-ending dinner parties and charity benefits, found comfort in seeing and knowing what was meant under the sugary sweet words of adults around her. Being a small child paraded around adults who were charmed by her blonde hair and blue eyes meant she had the most exposure to social events while Max hid in his books.

Finally Max had anointed himself as a fixer early on in their life. He had taken responsibility for Michael being left behind, and had tasked himself to protect his sister afterward. The defensive use of healing fit with his offensive ability to kill in the service of keeping those he loved safe.

At the most basic level, it was all energy from synaptic responses in brain waves to manipulating molecules to move or stop an object. How a pollen interrupted that energy use could theoretically solve the problem of how to jump start an ability.

“You think you might get around to telling her the big secret anytime soon?”

The mask over his mouth and face did little to block the glare Michael shot at him. “Shut up Valenti.”

“I don’t see what the big deal is. It’s Maria. She is a card carrying member of the ACLU and the Nature Conservatory. I had to bail her out of jail last year during an ICE protest. She’s not going to turn you over to the government.”

“Kyle!” Liz scolded, “We talked about this. Agency. It’s up to Isobel and Michael who knows. I already broke that with you.”

Michael ran a gloved figure over the counter absently. “I hate secrets, okay. This isn’t any fun for me, especially considering how many people already know. I went from having just Max and Isobel, to basically the whole graduating class of New Roswell High in on it. A lot of loose lips.”

The habit of 20 years of paranoid silence was probably a lot to try and break with a new relationship if that was the basis of it. There was a good amount of slack that Kyle could extend to Michael, including trying to be understanding when he started up with Alex’s best friend in the wake of Max’s death, but exclusion of Maria from the secret felt wrong to him.

He couldn’t fathom the reasoning behind lying to someone that he wanted to be in a relationship with, and he had a feeling that it wasn’t because of worries that she would tell someone about the aliens living in Roswell. While he couldn’t outright call Michael an asshole on Alex’s behalf, he could poke and prod him when the opportunity surfaced.

“You should look at this way Guerin, that larger circle means if something does happen, you’ve got more back up than just Isobel, with Max being out of commission.”

“Oh yeah, so if the government disappears me to a black site, you’re going to ride to my rescue?”

“Yes.” Kyle replied seriously. “I wouldn’t be alone either.” The name Alex Manes went unsaid, but from the brief wince on Michael’s face, he knew exactly who was being referred to obliquely. Scored hit again.

“Well as fun as this discussion is, I’m going to take off. Iz and I have practice plans.” Michael slipped his hat on, and tucked the stool away. “Liz, call me if you have a breakthrough on nullifying this stuff. For a rare flower, there sure was a lot of it stockpiled in Noah’s cave.”

“Sure thing, Mikey.”

“Valenti, make sure she goes home to sleep and eat at some point. I don’t want to have to put her in a pod next.” He ducked out of reach of her hand, laughing at the offended look she sent his way.

“Far be it for me to agree with him, but he’s right. You’ve been burning the candle at both ends and the middle between rebuilding your lab, researching Max’s healing power, studying this pollen, not to mention working at the diner. We should make time for something else, like a drink or a movie. Recharge.” The past month since Max’s ‘death’ brought back the manic energy burst from solving the issues with the depowering serum. From one catastrophe to another, it was barely time to recover before the next happened.

“I know, I just. I need to stay busy. It’s so quiet without him.” Liz stretched and started to tuck her last slide away into the cooler. “But I think I am done today, if I work anymore, I’ll just be making mistakes.”

Kyle slipped on his coat and held the door. “Not that I don’t believe you leaving on your own volition, but let me walk you out.”

“Lucky for you, I’m too tired to be offended.”

Kyle kept his hand on her back gently steering her through the hallways. The third shift was on at the hospital, and he winced to think about his own upcoming shift at noon tomorrow. Balancing football, his pre-med studies and his social life in Michigan taught him valuable life skills in working on short sleep, but even the hours of residency had no competition on his current life of alien lab work and tracking down government funding of a black ops prison project with Alex. When he mentioned a night off, he wasn’t only including Liz in that need.

Inhaling the cool night air, he calculated if he made it home, heated up a meal, and fell asleep promptly there was the opportunity for 6 good hours of sleep before meeting up at the bunker to check in on the data mining project Alex was running.

“You know, you should go a little easier on Michael.”

“I thought everyone in this town was in love with Max Evans, but apparently it’s Guerin.” Kyle retorted sarcastically.

Liz bit her lip at the mention of Max before sighing softly. “I’m serious, Kyle. He’s really messed up right now. I was actually shocked he was somewhat sober tonight.”

“I’m not going to be petty here Liz, and mention the obvious that we are all really messed up right now. I get where you’re coming from about their need for secrecy, but Maria really deserves better. I’m not her best friend like you are and Alex was, but I’ve been here in this town with her. She was there for me after my dad died, and she supported my mom’s election for sheriff. With Mimi getting worse, she deserves to have someone to count on, not someone who is lying to her, and by extension, making all of us lie to her as well.”

“Alex was? Past tense?”

He arched his eyebrow in disbelief, “I guess I am going to be petty tonight, but seriously Liz? Have you talked to Alex lately? Every time Maria comes up in conversation he puts his best ‘Baghdad was a little warm and I was just doing a job’ face on and repeats to anyone listening how happy he is for them. Guerin messed him up, and worse, took away from him one of the few people he lets himself drop that soldier bullshit front he has.”

Liz sighed, tucking her hair behind her ear. “I know the history with Michael is a little complicated, but we don’t always get to choose who we fall for and who we don’t. Love is messy. It doesn’t color inside the lines and follow any of the rules.”

“Maybe you’re right about that, and maybe there’s no avoiding the heartache. I do believe though that you can choose whether or not to be a dick about things, and Guerin not telling Maria is a dick move and it’s got consequences.” Kyle unlocked his car, and opened the passenger side with a gesture. “Our sister doesn’t have many friends, and he’s robbing her of one right now. Rosa lost ten years because of aliens, don’t you think that’s enough loss for all of us?”

“Do you know how annoying you are when you’re right? I’ll talk to Michael, better yet, I’ll talk to Isobel about letting Maria in on the secret.”

He slid into the driver’s seat, smiling across to her. “Tomorrow. Tonight, what’s left of it, is for sleeping.” He turned the ignition, and stopped, as the headlights came up illuminating the familiar green Chevy sitting across the lot from them. “That’s Guerin’s truck.”

“He left before we did, what’s it still doing here?” Liz ducked out of the passenger seat and ran toward the truck without waiting for an answer. Kyle swore softly, untangling his hand from the ignition to follow her. The truck looked undisturbed, no sign of the occupant. Liz reached for the driver’s side door, testing it, and gasped as the door swung open. The ever present black hat slipped off the dash into the floorboards.

There were three things Michael prized above all others, his truck, his cowboy hat, and his sister. To leave two out of three unprotected was highly out of character for him. Kyle turned around the parking lot, scanning for signs of him.

“Kyle, look,” Liz grabbed his arm and pulled him down toward the wheel well of the truck. Gleaming silver in the light , tucked on top of the tire tread, was a syringe needle with a depressed plunger.

“That’s not good.”

She stuffed her hand into her pocket and withdrew a spare latex glove to wrap around her fingers as she lifted the syringe from the tire. She peered closely at the vial, a sickly yellow liquid film thinly coated the inside. “I think someone took him, and without testing it, I’m guessing this is some sort of knock out drug based on the pollen.”

Kyle reached for his phone, mentally saying goodbye to the idea of sleep anytime soon. “I’ll call Alex, you call Isobel. And I don’t know, I guess call my mom? I mean, we usually call the police when someone gets abducted.”

Liz thinned her lips, holding the needle with one hand as she dug out her phone with the other. “I don’t think you can call the cops on the government, which I’m guessing that’s what we are dealing with since they knew how to knock out Michael.”

The government, or more specially it was probably someone related to Project Shepherd. Kyle sighed, holding his phone to his ear. It rang once, before he heard, “What’s wrong?”

He pulled the phone away from his ear to make sure he had called Alex and not the psychic alien sister, “How did you know something was wrong?”

“You’ve called me twice in the last three months, once to tell me you put my dad in a coma and once to tell me about Max. You’re a texter, even though I explained it’s easier to keep things secret if you call. So again, what’s wrong?”

Kyle slowly walked back toward the hospital. He should have volunteered to call Isobel, because this was not going to be easy. “It’s Guerin.”

“Is he okay?”

“We don’t know. We think someone took him. Liz and I found his truck at the hospital, unlocked. It looks like he got jumped by someone who knows how to incapicitate him.”

“I’ll be there in 20 minutes.”

Kyle wasn’t surprised to see the call disconnected. It was a forty minute drive from the cabin to the hospital if someone followed the speed limits.

***

“It’s Guerin.”

Alex was somewhat aware that he must have replied. He was in his SUV and away from the bunker, before he’d registered that the call had ended. He could only be thankful that today had been a ‘pull day’, rather than a ‘push day.’

Alex could divide his days into two motivations, he either wanted to be as far from town and the chance of running into someone he knew (Michael) or he wanted to be close in case something happened that he could help fix (for Michael). The cabin was isolated enough that only Kyle made the trip from Roswell, but not in recent memory with the pace of lab work and hospital hours. Alex could comfortably avoid reality with his laptop until the second feeling took hold. The Project Shepherd bunker was an easier location to reach Isobel or Liz from when the inviatble call for assisting an intoxicated Michael came.

Seeing Maria meant seeing Michael in the evening hours, and it was strange to resort to in his post-service life the habit of a decade before; lying and hiding himself in every interaction. His calendar had a weekly reminder to join Liz and Maria at the Wild Pony for a beer, usually scheduled early enough that Michael was still at Sanders working, but late enough that the automated work emergency text to his phone could reliably give him cover for an exit.

Psychic as she was, Maria always let him go with a pained but relieved look. It wasn’t her fault that he was still in love with Michael. It wasn’t her fault that Michael wasn’t in love with him. Neither he nor Maria had so many friends that they could afford to lose one, but neither was fooling the other that the relationship hadn’t changed in the aftermath of her dating Michael.

This wasn’t his first go around with unrequited love.

He’d survived Brendon Urie, and he wasn’t ashamed to have been a sixteen year old pouring over fan meet and greets on livejournal before hitting the road with Rosa to see Panic at the Disco in Albuquerque just after school let for the summer. He might have mapped out Los Angeles coffee shops to busk at after he turned legal and could escape west to be a musician, coffee shops close to Silver Lakes and Encino neighborhoods to be organically discovered by his crush.

He had survived his fourteen year old obsession with Kyle, that lasted until it was safer to love unattainable rockstars versus the childhood friend now high school bully. He could laugh at himself for thinking that Kyle had turned on him because he felt the same way but just didn’t know how to articulate it outside of shoving him against the lockers and jeering at him in gym class.

Unrequited love that had once been returned was a higher bar to clear than a fan fantasy or a childhood crush, but then the sins Alex carried were deeper and more lasting as well. More than a ruined but now healed hand and a discarded scholarship, he had the murder of Michael’s mother to carry. He would survive Michael not loving him, he was reasonably sure of it. He wasn’t sure if he would survive something happening to Michael because of the Manes family legacy.

Someone knowing how to subdue and take Michael pointed to his family’s involvement.

He didn’t bother with the visitor’s desk at the hospital foyer this time, walking purposefully toward the elevator and wing where Liz’s new lab resided. The door opened to his touch, revealing Isobel hovering anxiously near Liz’s shoulder as she swabbed a syringe.

“You made good time.” Isobel greeted.

“I hacked the traffic lights.” Alex informed, setting his laptop case on the lab table, and popping the case open. A few keystrokes and he was inside the hospital network and probably breaking a dozen federal laws of privacy.

Kyle closed the door, and shook his head, “Seriously?”

“No. I was at the bunker.” He brought up the internal security logs, noting visitors and elevator access. “So what do we know?”

“Not a lot,” Liz replied, her gaze fixed on a spread of swabs and slides. “I’m trying to pull as many samples as I can from this syringe so I can analyze it. There looks to be a reservoir of 3 CCs. My original serum required a dose of at least 6 CCs to incapacitate, so whatever they used was more concentrated.”

“Hopefully less lethal,” Isobel observed. “Are you in the hospital network already?”

“Just what’s linked to the internal wifi signals. I’m going to need access to their security office since it appears the actual camera footage is on a closed circuit.”

Kyle pulled out his ID badge, “I can take you there, but how are you going to get the guards to let you look at the footage? I can still call my mom and make this an official police investigation.”

Alex dug into his pockets for a thumb drive, and then turned to Isobel, “I’m hoping you can influence the guard into letting me download the footage. If you can’t, then we will need to bring the sheriff into this.”

Isobel tapped her forehead knowingly, “If I can’t influence the guards to let you in, I can at least make one of them think he left his car unlocked or his coffee pot plugged in.”

“Let’s go then. Michael has been missing for at least an hour.”

Kyle tapped his badge at certain checkpoints, opening the electronic doors as they headed down to the security room. Alex made a mental note to scrub the ID tags once they were done, on the off chance someone was curious about the movements of a doctor who should have been long off duty.

The windowless room was covered in screens and held one guard boredly sipping his coffee while he watched a television show on his phone. There was a chance they didn’t need a psychic to gain access, but it was probably better safe than sorry.

Alex moved quickly after Isobel held the security guard’s mind in hers and slide behind the desk to call up the footage on the parking garage. Mindful of time, he plugged in his drive and started transferring all the raw data from the camera recordings. The antiquated hospital computing system did nothing to soothe the anxiety.

Long experience working with poor computing power and broken infrastructure while deployed in Iraq was the only thing that kept his inner impatience off his face. Touching the mouse or tapping his fingers never moved data faster.

Finally the file clicked over complete, he slid back from the bank of monitors, and nodded to Isobel. The security guard took a deep breath and look around briefly before picking up his phone and restarting the television show on his app.

The door clicked shut as the three of them hastened back to Liz’s lab. His hip barked at the hurried extension he placed on his body. With the clock ticking, the discomfort slipped into the box marked ‘to deal with later’. Once the drive was inserted, it was a matter of minutes to set up a scan for vehcile traffic entering and exiting the hospital parking lot.

Liz dug out a bottle of acetone for Isobel, who accepted it with a small smile and then nodded over to the laptop. “I hope you are having more luck with the security footage, than I am having with this drug.”

“I grabbed everything from the last 72 hours, just in case. It’s possible someone followed Michael to the hospital,” Alex balanced carefully onto the stool, keeping the weight off his prostetic. “I would have found a less populated area for a snatch and grab, but maybe they were worried about Michael’s powers and if so, then likely they scouted the view points of the cameras before they made their move to minimize their exposure. At least that’s what I would have done, if I had discarded the open road or home as possible targets.”

“Well we all know what a paranoid and careful asshole you are, Alex.” Kyle observed, working on a second set of samples.

“I try not to repeat my mistakes.”

“Like Caulfield?” Isobel asked pointed.

A sharp stab of pain went through him at the reminder. As if the prison ever left his mind for a moment these days. “Yes, like Caulfield. I should have found a more covert way to gain information than assume it was abandoned. I should have realized my dad had more going on than surveillance on Roswell.”

Kyle touched Alex’s shoulder with a comforting clasp, “At least we know he’s not personally behind this. Master Sergeant's main nurse likes me, she would have called if something had changed.”

Alex stayed silent, knowing that his next task would be gaining access to the long term rest home in Santa Fe where they had transferred his comatose father after he had attacked Kyle. There had been initial protests regarding the forged records until he had pointed out the other option had been to kill Jesse.

The classic body Chevy truck flashed on the screen with the timecode marking it as Michael’s arrival at the hospital. Alex paused and marked the frame for reference, then eased through the later clips watching for his exit. There were two cameras concentrated on the parking lot, one at the entrance/exit, and one with a long panoramic view of the lot, primarily to ward off a car thief or would-be mugger. It was grainy in grey scale, but at least he could be thankful that Michael drove such a distinctive truck. The task of finding an unremarkable Honda Prisius would have been daunting.

His hand stilled as he paused the footage on the slow but unmistakable swagger of a figure striding away from the hospital entrance toward the parked Chevy. Michael’s black cowboy hat hid his face but even absent such an identifiable marker Alex was sure could have picked out his body in a sea of others without question.

Michael reached his truck with no issue, unlocking the driver’s side door. His hand swept off his hat and casually tossed it into the front seat of the cab. Behind him, in the next parking aisle a nondescript panel van, a door opened slid open and a glint peeked out. Michael reached behind his neck, his body half in the truck and slapping at the skin there.

Alex inhaled sharply, fear and dread rising. It was a terrible thing to watch knowing it had already happened. Two figures dressed in plain dark clothing emerged from the van, and started toward the truck. Michael’s body half fell from the cab, and curled around the front wheel. Alex watched as the two effortlessly brushed off the weak struggles to fight their grasp of Michael’s shoulders, tugging him backward to the waiting van.

His body was tossed without care into the back, the door sliding shut blocking the last view of Michael. The two men split up from the van, circling around to the front doors. Alex numbly clicked on the frame, saving it, and switched over to the second camera focused on the entrance.

Watching his brother Flint calmly pay the ticket machine was not much of a surprise at this point.

“Kyle, I’m going to need you to call your nurse friend to check on my father.” He was proud that his voice was calm and even, despite the rising sickness within. “The good news is, this wasn’t a government issued black ops team that took Michael.”

“And the bad news?” Isobel prompted.

“It was personal, which means they aren’t as invested in keeping him alive.”

* * * *

[Isobel details their mental bond. That it feels blank]

“I was always closer with Max. I don’t know if it was a twin thing or being raised together, but Michael was always harder to connect with until recently. We’ve been practicing so much together, he started to take up a bit of space here, “ she patted her chest. “Not enough to fill the void where Max was, but enough that I could tell if he was happy or if he was angry. Strong emotions only came through. Lately it was a lot of anger but he wouldn’t tell me what was going on… “

“And now? Do you feel him now?”

Tears filled her eyes and she shook her head. “It’s empty. Blank. Like it was when we kids before he moved back to Roswell. I think he’s still alive, but he feels very far away, or very weak.”

[Alex waits patiently for the call. He thinks this is going to be an exchange of Michael for his dad, until he realizes his dad is not at the long-term care facility any more]

[Round table discussion at Max’s house to figure out what Jesse wants. Isobel finds out more about the shared past of Michael and Alex- and Maria shows up at the end looking for Michael]

“It’s been 2 days, why hasn’t your dad called with his demands? Is he not reading from the classic villain script this time?” Isobel wondered bitterly. “What is with your family, Alex?”

Kyle injected, “We don’t know that Sergant Manes is involved.”

“Don’t we? He disappeared from the nursing home just before Michael was taken. It seems pretty convenient timing to me.”

Alex pressed his fingers under his eyelids to relieve the building pressure. It had been a long two days of nothing after he received the call that the psuedonmyn he had checked his dad in unrder was no longer a patient in the long-term coma ward in Sante Fe. The staff was calling it a miracle that just after a devoted son had prayed at his bedside, he had woken up. Alex knew it was anything but divine intervention to have Jesse awake and free in the world.

“Isobel is right, this has Dad written all over it. Somehow Flint found out what had happened and woke him up. It’s been two days because I’m guessing he is still weak from the inactivity.”

Liz stirred from her claimed spot on the couch, cracking an eyelid. “What makes you think there’s going to be a demand, Isobel? Manes has what he wants, a new alien to test and torture. If you look at the research side of things, the aliens in Caulfield were all weak and elderly, and Michael’s a healthy 28 year old. Whatever fucked up weapon he was developing might need a younger test subject.”

“Now there’s a comforting thought.” Kyle muttered.

“I don’t think it’s research. This still feels personal to me. Michael still has an offensive power to defend himself with, the softer target would have been Isobel if he just wanted an alien to grab.”

“Gee, thanks Alex. Come closer and I’ll show you what I’ve been working on and see if you think I’m still a soft target after I turn your skull into crushed bone.”

***

Alex’s fingers were numb, as he pressed in his code to access his Whatsapp account. Waiting in his inbox was an unknown number and a video attachment. He abruptly dropped into the deck chair as the video opened to his worst fear made real.

Michael’s left eye was swollen shut, blood staining from the corner of his forehead, dripping down his cheek bone. His arms were stretched high above his head, disappearing out of frame. His shirt was missing, and there were sluggishly wounds striping over his shoulder and licking across his collar bone.

The camera turned, Michael blurring out of view. The monster that starred in seventy percent of his nightmares filled the screen. “Hello, Alex. I was hoping to keep you out of this, son, but this creature is being very uncooperative.”

Off screen, he heard a weak, “Go fuck yourself, Manes. I keep telling you, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Jesse nodded to someone out of frame, and Michael screamed in agonizing pain. Long hiccuping gasps for air puncuated another softer, “fuck you.”

“Like I said, uncooperative. When we last saw each other, you had something that belonged to me. Jim Valenti stole it from our base, and refused to tell me what he had done with it despite my best efforts at persuading him.”

Michael cried out again, choking on a soft sob. Alex forced himself to watch, drinking in every detail for his later plans.

“With N-38 gone, I can’t hurt this thing the same way I did dear old Jim so I’ve had to get creative. Electricity just makes some of them stronger, but good old heat and sharp still work on them. We both know you can break its bones with enough force.” Jesse turned, pointing the camera toward Michael again, focusing on the dangling bare feet. “There are more bones per square inch in the foot, than anywhere else in the body. I am telling you this so you don’t doubt my resolve. This thing is relatively harmless for its kind, and I’m willing to return it to you in more or less good condition, if you bring me what Valenti stole. Let me know what you decide to do.”

The video cut off.

****

There was an expected role to play, like there always was when Jesse Manes was involved. Once it meant peppering his speech with ‘yes sir’ and ‘sorry sir’ and toning down his clothing in hopes of escaping his fists, and when that proved futile, it went in the opposite direction with makeup, nail polish, and piercings.

For all of his proud talk about the service, his father never served anywhere but stateside. His knowledge of tactical defense and enemy counter measures were likely twenty years of date, and Alex was counting on his father’s pride from keeping him unaware of the technology shift. The set up of the Project Shepherd bunker confirmed that.

He tucked his personal side arm into his thigh holster, securing to his left leg and reached for his secondary weapon to slip into his boot strapped to his prosthetic. The weight of the kevlar and vest registered briefly on his shoulders before it slipped into the blank shroud that had enveloped him as soon as he heard Michael’s cries. Knives and a pair of percussive grenades weighed down each side of his pockets.

A floorboard behind him creaked, his gun cleared the holster before his mind caught up on who would have followed him to his cabin. It was a little concerning that the sound of a vehicle hadn’t registered until now.

“Whoa, don’t shoot.” Kyle lifted his hands, halting abruptly. He took in the dark clothing, combat hardware and the array of weapons spread on the cabin’s table. “I guess we are going full cliche today, good to know.”

Alex dropped his arm away, resecuring his gun. “Then you know what I’m going to say already.”

“Humor me, then. This is a trap, Alex.”

“I’m well aware.” Alex flipped open a black case and pulled out his phone and laptop. Carefully he pulled out three silver discs, and a pair of jeweler’s glasses. He sat down in the chair, slipping the glasses on to peer down at the discs. “I’m going anyway.”

Kyle sighed, aggrieved. “Well I did promise Guerin if he got his ass kidnapped by the government, I would come to his rescue.”

Alex didn’t look up from his work, pressing a small pin on each disc. “You’re not going with me, Kyle.”

“I know this face is distractingly handsome, but tell me you remember all the time we spent on the range together as kids. I can shoot a gun.”

“Shooting a paper target is different from shooting at a human being.” Each disc beeped softly, then went silent. He pulled the glasses off with a satisfied smirk, “Besides, I need you to come with the cavalry. These are military grade GPS trackers that I’ve linked to my laptop and my phone. Once my father sees I’m there without the piece of the ship, he’ll take me to Michael so he can teach me a lesson.”

“What makes you think your dad won’t find these trackers?”

“I’m sure he will, but I’ve got a back up plan on that as well. My father has underestimated me my entire life. He thinks I am weak, that my emotions and desires cloud my judgment. He’s going to see he was wrong.”

“Alex.” Kyle hesitated, struggling for a moment before taking a seat at the table. He gently laid his hand on Alex’s wrist, stilling the other man. “We all want Guerin back safe but I want you to consider for a moment that your father is right, that your emotions are clouding your judgment. Because what I’m seeing right now is kind of freaking me out, dude. You’re dressed from head to toe in black ops murder gear with GPS trackers, which I didn’t even know you could buy, talking about going in alone, guns blazing, against your dad.”

“I got them on Ebay.”

“That’s what you’re choosing to focus on?”

“What are my other options, Kyle? He’s got Michael. He’s had him for two days, and there is exactly zero chance he doesn’t want both the UFO fragment and Michael.” Alex wrenched his hand away,. He inhaled deeply and pushed down the swell of thoughts of what had already happened to Michael in two days.

“I agree, but back when I laid him out with barbiturates in our bunker, you and I had a discussion about killing him. I seem to remember we decided against that.”

“No, Kyle, you decided against it and I went along with it. Which was clearly a mistake. This has been a long time coming, okay? He brought this on himself when he took Michael.”

“I knew there was no talking you out of this. I just don’t want you to do this alone.”

* * *

The lights were all on at the formerly known as Evans-Bracken residence, now just Evans.

“You look like you’re ready to storm the castle.” Isobel commented, before pushing the door open and turning back into the house. “I still haven’t felt anything from Michael. He could be dead, and all of this would be pointless.”

Alex winced and acknowledged the point before pushing the thought down. “He’s not dead.”

“How do you know? Your so-called cosmic connection?” She sipped from the glass in her hand, the scent of chemicals wafted to him. It was clearly not water.

Gently he wrapped his fingers around her hand, guiding the glass away before resting it on the table next to him. “Maybe, but in reality, if he was dead, my father would have taken someone else as leverage and he would have taunted me with my failure to protect Michael.”

****

[ So as you can see it needs a massive rewrite to fix my characterization- but I still like the plot of Jesse taking Michael for the ship piece- especially since the show fumbled on this so badly in 2x10-2x11. ]

#oh man early hiatus fic has a feel don't it?#Anonymous

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foxsoulart · 6 months ago

Text

Gravedigger.

(Also found on Ao3)

"-I missed on purpose."

No no no no. Leo was up there alone. He can't-

Mikey knew in his core what Leo was about to do. The world moved in slow motion, noise garbled through a haze.

Leo was telling Casey to close the portal. Casey hesitated and that was all the time Mikey needed.

Rage boiled in him, spilling out. He reached for Leo's ninpo and yanked with all his strength.

"No. You can not have him."

A blink of golden orange light. Leo was on the ground where Mikey had once been standing.

"Casey, Now! Leo's out!"

Casey trusted the word of the one who was going to be the greatest mystic warrior the world has ever seen and pulled the key free, shutting down the apacalypse.

The portal imploded and exploded with the largest shockwave any of them had ever seen. They sky lit up bright and glaring.

And a golden thread of ninpo so deeply intertwined with the others snapped.

On the other side of that portal, Mikey smirked in victory. Having accomplished his goal.

Razzmatazz, baby.

///

A flash of gold sparks, a zip, and a pop. And he was back.

"MICHELANGELO HAMATO IS BACK BABY!!" He cupped his hands around his mouth and hollered into the empty sky.

Drunk on his succes, Mikey staggered and landed on the ground on his rear. "Omigosh, I forgot gravity was a thiiiiinnnng." He trilled to himself while taking the biggest gulp of air possible. Oxygen? Fresh Air? Absolutely amazing, could not be anything better in that moment.

Except maybe pizza.

Ooh, pizza. Now he was hungry.

"I should definetly go get a pizza." Mikey practically bounced, chittering to himself, excited to be getting pizza for the first time in......well, a long time. "But where should I go? Eh, I'll just follow my nose."

Inhaling deep he let the scents run over his tongue and through his nose. Catching a whiff of his desire Mikey headed that way with a skip in his step.

Remembering just in time that humans existed, Mikey stuck to the rooftops and shadows.

The stealthiest ninja-no, the ninjaest ninja.

Mikey almost broke his cover by giggling at his own thoughts. The scent trail didn't take him to a human joint, surprsingly, but Run-Of-The-Mills.

"Oh yes, Hueso's is the best. My nose knows what's up."

Instead of entering the restraunt, Mikey stood outside the hidden entrance, framed it with his hands and spread them apart. a portal peeled open, sparks zipping off the edges. He put half his body through, balancing on one foot. Coming through, Mikey was in the kitchen and conviently in front of him was a stack of steaming hot pizza pies, waiting to be delivered to the patrons.

He nabbed the top two and pulled out of the portal, which closed once he was all the way out.

"Ooh, come to papa." He cooed. salivating.

Retreating with his stolen prize, he hopped up to a rooftop. Mikey devoured the pizzas in record time. Now uncomfortably full.

Mikey laid back across the roof, licking his beak of the leftover grease and sauce.

He was here and the world was open. Like an open world game but with no limits, he could explore anywhere and everywhere.

His portals were no longer just innerdimensional or restricted, now they could be just like Leo's. He'd had plenty of time and space to practice. Practice until it tore his body apart. But don't worry, turns out mystic energy can also be used to fix that.

"Which reminds me, what day is it?" Mikey mused into the air.

Flipping to his feet fluidly, he went in search to find something with the current date on it. He found some of the day's newspapers at one of the corner booths. Mikey read the date in the corner.

He gently set the paper back down where he had gotten it from.

The nearest lampost burst into white hot flames. Instantly melting it down into a glowing molten lump. People shrieked and fled.

Mikey didn't hear them. Pupils pinpricks, breathing heavily, his tail lashed cutting through the air.

"It has been...SEVEN YEARS!"

Mikey roared in outrage. More and more items erupting in flames and melting in the concentrated heat. Unaware of the damage and pandamonium he was causing, Mikey paced back and forth ranting. Elipsing into feral noises intermittingly.

"It did notfeel like that long. Freaking curse the krang, the *click click click* and curse those four guys who made the *click click* why is time so weird there. *hissss* That means I'm 22 and missed every birthday of my brothers and my brothers probably think I'm *click click click click*."

Mikey fully devolved into feral sounds, growling with every breath.

The entire street had caught fire, a blazing inferno. Only noticing when his left arm twinged in warning. Mikey looked up, seeing the chaos. He dispelled the flames with a flick of his wrist. "Oops." And concentrated.

Sweeping his let foot in an arc across the ground, golden sparks sprung up in it's wake. The street reversed in destruction, like time turned back. Mikey restored it to the way it had been.

And dissappeared into the shadows before his shimmering emotions caused more damage.

The event made the news, including video and images taken by braver stupider citizens.

Mikey's anger dissappeared when he set foot on grass in Central Park. He had come here in a distracted winding trail through the cty; far away from the street he had lost his temper.

His pupils widened to orbs, and Mikey ran across the grass giggling. He raced, frolicked, rolled, darted in between trees, and scared the local wildlife witless.

High on the elation of being alive to feel nature again.

"I missed this sooooo much." He trilled happily, lying on his plastron, face in the grass.

He watched some ants marching along for two seconds before he was up on his feet again. Finding a pond, he chased the ducks there, startled some old couple feeding them, and splashed water everywhere with a gleeful sharp-toothed grin.

"Donnie would hate this pond, it has algeeeee." Mikey singsonged. "Oh! That's right, Donnie! Let's go find him!"

Mikey sloshed from the pond with a mission; he got all the way out of Central Park before becoming distracted by a cat. He spent a good long while befriending the wary calico. But now they were best buddies. Mikey kept her perched on his shoulder, nestled in the hood of his short cloak. She purred filling his shoulder with soft vibrations and fluffy warmth. He churred back at her pleased.

"Raph would be so jealous." He whispered conspiratoryly while scratching under her chin. "Omigosh, that's right! I'm looking for my brothers." He headed off once more, wandering the city aimlessly, getting distracted by every little thing.

Mikey had found a blank gray wall. He didn't like it.

"Too bland, too much like there. Needs color, I'mma fix that."

He decided and promptly stole every color of spray paint a craft store nearby was selling. And he covered every inch of that wall in color; creating a vibrant mural across it's surface. Discovering he still had paint left, Mikey set out to find more surfaces to cover. Anything gray or dull got the Mikey treatment.

Soon a slapdash trail of art spread across the city, covering anything; Cars, walls, trash cans, signs, doors, lamposts, the sidewalk. And every store in the vincinty that had spray paint, was missing all if not most of their stock. Mikey simply destroyed the cans as he went, using his mystic to disintergrate the cannisters. The calico stayed the whole detour, wrinkling her nose at the smell but otherwise content. Both ended up sprinkled in every color under the sun.

"Let's go find mi hermanos now, eh?" Mikey asked the calico when he finally remembered what he was supposed to be doing.

He searched for the remainder of the day with no luck.

Then an idea struck.

He plucked the cat off his shoulder in excitement, holding her aloft. "I know how to find them! I just have to reconnect our ninpo!" Mikey giggled "Why hadn't I thought of this before? Silly silly."

He set kitty down and reached deep inside. Grabbing ahold of his ninpo, Mikey shaped it into threads and reached out.

Finding his brothers' ninpo, Mikey connected his to it.

He felt a snap of connection and screeched with joy. Yes yes yes yes yes.

"Now where are you silly turtles?"

Upstate deep in the country, on April's grandparents' farm, a plate shattered on the wooden flooring. Have dropped from a shell shocked slider's hands.

Leo stood stock still, mouth agape, eyes blown. Unable to comprehend what he just felt. No one had felt that wild crackling energy of the sun of the youngest Hamato in seven years. And somehow it was back.

And stronger, wilder, searching.

Leo carefully, hopefully, reached back. A tentative reach which was immediately snapped up eagerly by the sun. Red, Purple, and Green followed suit, reaching toward Mikey's ninpo scared it wasn't real. Mikey snapped theirs up just as hungerly, just as desperately.

There was a pull, a tug. Then a flash of gold sparks, a swirl of mystic and Mikey stepped out of his portal onto the farmhouse lawn. The cat still content on his shoulder.

Mikey, vibrating with joy, charged up the front porch, wrenched open the door, and plowed straight into Leo. Heedless of the broken ceramic on the floor.

Mikey churred and chittered hugging Leo with all his might. Which was quite alot. All lean whiry muscle.

Leo wheezed from the air being squeezed from his lungs with love, and began bawling.

Body shuddering, lung wracking, heart wrenching sobs. Leo couldn't breathe and he didn't care. His little brother was alive, he was back.

Mikey chittered and churred and trilled and made every conceivable happy noise. The volume intensified greatly when the rest of the family appeared. Glowing chains pulling them onto the floor to join Leo and Mikey.

"Mikey-how-why-you-"

No one could form a full sentence. And not just from bawling their hearts out.

Mikey held his family close and was the center of the hug, shining like the sun.

No, literally, he was glowing.

His gold patches and the pattern on his shell lit up with ninpo, almost blindingly bright.

Once everyone had finally calmed down, they finally really looked at Mikey, no longer blinded by tears.

New gold patches were on his face and his original ones had grown in size, a scar across the left side of his mouth, sharp teeth, his eyes were slit pupiled and tinted pink, strange scars that looked kinda like lightning went almost all the way up his left arm.

And he had a cat.

Mikey remembered his new friend right when everyone noticed her and held her up for everyone to see. "Guys this is Kitty Klunk, she's mine." He said mine a bit possessivly, a bit guarded.

"Klunk?" Donnie asked "That was the best you could do?"

"I like the way it sounds. Klunk." Mikey giggled, highly amused.

"Well I think Klunk is perfect." Raph chimed in, finally able to speak.

"You know what her initials are?" Mikey asked in anticipational glee.

"KK?"

Mikey cackled, positively hysterical over this. Everyone else was kind of confused as to what was so funny about that, but smiled seeing Mikey so happy. Or rather, seeing Mikey at all.

"My baby Orange, how.....how did you get out? How did you survive?" Splinter's questions were born of a father's worry.

Mikey, still giggly, replied earnestly. "Well I had loooooots of time to practice ripping holes through dimesional walls." He flipped over to lay on his shell, kicking his feet. "And did you know that mystic energy paired with Krang blood has absolutely amazing healing properties?"

Birds could be heard chirping outside in the silence that followed Mikey's statement.

"What." Donnie whispered, horrified by the implications.

"And, and, did you know that a krang parasite will die when either exposed to enough mystic energy or when the originating krang dies?"

Mikey eagery shared, excited to finally have someone to tell these things to. Unaware the distress he was causing, Mikey continued.

"Oh and krang hounds are very much edible, they taste like shrimp."

Well now no one was eating shrimp ever again.

"You can make clothing using mystic, did you know that?"

"Oh oh oh" Mikey suddenly remembered "Leo, you are gonna be so jealous." He flipped off his hood to show off his "new" locks. A brown so dark it was almost black, and a little frizzy and malnourished, it hung just past his waist; tied with the tattered remains of his mask.

"These are mine and aaaaall na-tur-ral baby. Guess I inherited Dad's good looks."

"That's.....totally wicked bro! Not fair." Leo was first to decide not to worry about it and let Mikey's enthusiasm become contagious.

Mikey rolled and wriggled through the group hug to cling to Raph like a baby oppossum. He looked up at his biggest brother, eyes big. "You know what I really want right now?" He stage whispered.

"What do you really want right now, big man?"

Mikey leaned closer. "A hamburger."

Splinter smiled at the normal request. "Then a hamburger you shall get. Any special requests?"

Splinter asked the room at large but it was mainly Mikey who answered. "Everything on mine please, Pops!"

Donnie, incredibly curious about the physical changes to Mikey but also unbeleivably happy he was back, asked "Michael, while Dad is cooking, did you want to change clothes and maybe bathe?"

Mikey promptly dettached himself from Raph, who looked saddened by this, to attach himself to Donnie instead. "Oh yes yes yes. You're the best Dee."

Donnie stood with an oof, adjusting his balance for the extra weight and headed to the bathroom.

"I'm afraid we don't have much clothing in orange, so anyone is particular's hoodies you want to steal?"

"Yours." Mikey trilled without hesistation and with much "little sibling getting to use their older sibling's stuff" glee.

Donnie smirked "Of course you do, mine are obviously superior. Do you want me to grab one while you shower?"

"No. Stay." The box turtle mooshed his beak into Donnie's arm, nuzzling.

"Very well, I will stay." Donnie was not-so-secretly pleased with that.

Donnie hovered in the doorway not willing to leave.

The softshell couldn't help staring after Mikey peeled off his gear. The hair, eyes, and teeth Donnie had known about. The spread of Mikey's gold spots had been obvious. But the change to his carapace's markings he had not known. The shape had changed to look more like an eye; complete with the pupil in the center. Amd now there were three.

The longer, sharper claws weren't especially shocking when taking into account that his teeth had sharpened as well.

And the lightning scarring on his left arm assuredly required further examination. But what was the most shocking was the tail. On the thinner side and reaching his ankles, the new scaly appendage was perfectly intune with its owner.

While fully aware that their ordinary cousins had tails, the boys never had any. Most likely due to their human DNA. But a tail does not simply grow on someone who never would have had one.

Donnie's brain went into overdrive running through scenario after scenario of what could have caused these changes to his little brother. None of them good.

Giving a brisk shake, Donnie stored those thoughts away for a far later date. His brother had his full present attention, not the what is.

Speaking of his brother; Mikey was currently using as much soap and bubble bath as they had. Filling not only yhe tub but the entire bathroom. Lost among the clouds of froth.

"Mikey, did you have to use all of it at once?"

Mikey using all the bubble bath was a given, and all the soap was obvious. But all at once? Seriously?

"Nooooo. The bottle slipped."

Came the youngest from somewhere that was not the direction of the tub.

"Miguel, the tub is on the other side of the room. You're getting clean remember?" Donnie gently reminded him of the objective.

"Oh right, sorry Dontron. Got distracted, doing that now." The disconnected voice moved from one side of the room to the other. The splash of water could be heard shortly after he stopped talking.

"Just make sure to be thorough."

Donnie eyed the soap bubbles with a sigh and began cleaning them up.

Mikey spent well over an hour in the tub. Scrubbing years of grime out of every centimer of his body; giving his hair it's first ever wash.

When he had finally finished drying off, using Raph's big fluffy towel with no remorse, he used April's hair dryer she kept at the farmhouse with utter glee.

After Donnie had to physically remove the hair dryer from Mikey's hands before he burned himself; Dee took Mikey to his room and let him pick out the hoodie he wanted to wear. He picked a velvety soft and toasty warm one with a vaporwave sunset on the front. He then returned to the bathroom, after putting on the hoodie, and scooped up his dirty clothes.

"Where's the laundry room?"

"Are you sure you don't want to burn these?" Donnie said after a long moment of staring at the filthy well worn articles.

Mikey looked down at them as if the idea hadn't occured to him, because it hadn't. "I suppose I could...but I like this cloak, so nah."

Donnie sighed. "Very well, this way then."

He led the way down the hall and to the laundry room downstairs. Mikey followed, softly tweeting like one of the songbirds outside to himself.

At dinner Mikey ate his burger in two bites. Then looked at everyone else's. "You gonna eat that?"

"Yes!" Came to indignant replies.

Splinter chuckled "You may have the rest that are not on anyone's plates, Orange."

Mikey proceeded to eat every one of those in two bites also.

The family turtle-piled in the living room that night. Mikey at the center; some part of him touching every family member.

At around 3am Leo got up to use the bathroom. Mikey cracked open his eyes, which glowed eerily, and sleepily asked "Leo? Where goin'?"

"Just to the bathroom, Mikester. I'll be right back, go back to sleep." Leo whispered coaxingly.

Mikey thought for a moment, his squinchy eyed face relaxing. "Mkay, watch out for the hallway monster." He mumbled, snuggling deeper into the warmth.

"I will." Leo whispered to an already fast asleep Mikey.

(Around a week later)

Mikey watched Raph cut veggies with laser point fascination, not unllike that of a cat.

A lightbulb seemed to go off in his brain. He clapped his hands over his cheeks. "Omigosh. That's right!

Leo!"

Spinning around in his chair so fast everyone expected him to fall off, Mikey faced the slider.

He concentrated a bit with his hand out. Golden energy sparked in the air right above it and twin katana materialized to drop into his waiting hand.

"I kept these safe for you. They suck at filing claws by the way."

Mikey handed them to an elated Leo.

"Oh.My.Goodness. Mikey, how- you didn't have to-wait, you said what?!"

Mikey had already left to pursue a bird he had spotted out the kitchen window and found interesting. Leo ran out after him, calling "Mikey! What did you mean by that? What did you use them for?! Mikey, listen to me!"

The end.

#one shot #tmnt fic #rottmnt fic #rottmnt au #rottmnt #mikey centric #ao3 link #ao3 fanfic #ao3 fic #tmnt #rise mikey #will be uploading art at a later date #i have a ref for him too #i like turtles mkay #doing this instead of doing all my ongoing #tmnt au #au

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