#with the exception of maria they all come back wrong and hurt and twisted by their deaths

[cherrysnax]

oh yeah we were also wondering why we flock to media with dead kids that haunt the narrative both figuratively and literally and uh :) yeah we know why

[the-ghost-king]

love seeing ur tags on my posts it means i get to think 🥰🥰 anyway mostly agree but at least to me nico’s constant need to prove himself is a sign of feeling like he’s not worth other people’s time and effort and he has to MAKE himself worth it. he does all he can in the hopes that people will notice him and tell him that he’s good enough because he relies on the approval of people he loves. he thinks love is something conditional for him and that he always has to be earning it because he doesn’t have enough worth to have it just granted to him. again this is more my own interpretation of his character and possibly a bit of projection

(Post)

I will not fail to acknowledge that I might also be projecting somewhat onto Nico, what is media but self reflection? I think there's a couple ways you can see Nico that are canonically "correct"

What I personally think happened with Nico is that he was aware he was worth more than the treatment he was receiving, but because so much rejection occurred he eventually just assumed he was the problem. There's things on this I would rewrite now but it holds up okay in what I'm about to try and explain.

The thing about being rejected is that the first time you argue it's the other person. And the second time you'll argue it's still them. If you're still arguing it's other people the third time, maybe but it's thin ice... But eventually you just have to accept that you're at fault.

I think this is something that really describes Nico. He is never able to nestle himself in the comfort of sameness after a certain point. He is not given authority in his own story in the beginning, he is thrust into solitude, he is told he is a monster already and if not then he has no choice but to become one.

And he takes this blame upon himself, believing that it's him who has to prove himself. He doesn't acknowledge that maybe other people have their own biases against him, he says "I have to prove them wrong," and then does his best.

It's important to note that Nico is definitely grappling with Childhood Emotional Neglect, he's in a broken situation- and he recognizes that nobody wants him around, and that he's just more stress for an already stressed group of people, so he just backs down and starts to figure stuff out for himself. We see him accept some help and friendship from The Stolls in TTC but eventually he stops doing this at some point.

His leave from camp and time with Minos is when he is used:

you unknowingly wear your heart on your sleeve and people will see this and take advantage of your trusting nature and unconditional love and they’ll never really love you they’ll just see you as an easy tool to be manipulated and used how they see fit and you won’t recognize that this is a bad thing because you don’t believe you’re worth anything more than this

This is something I would say is very true about this time period of Nico's life. Minos emotionally exploits Nico, emotional neglect and abuse (possibly physical abuse, who knows) are defining characteristics of their interactions. Nico talks about how Minos will just randomly leave him for extremely long periods with no assistance, and about how when he's around he's always telling Nico to try harder, to do better, do more. Note the time he tells Nico "you have no power over me", he's definitely holding things over Nico's head. I don't think it's wrong to assume comfort is a part of that, Nico is alone all the time at this point, and I'm sure he's starved for touch, and support, and connection- and he will take whatever he can get whether or not it is good or right.

At first he doesn't do anything against this, and it might be because he was so starved for attention that he was willing to endure abuse to receive somewhat a consistent form of it. I also think there's some evidence that points to the idea Nico was getting something from Minos, training and similar stuff, it's possible he was willing to form and upkeep a toxic relationship with him in order to gain experience.

However, I do disagree with "and you won’t recognize that this is a bad thing because you don’t believe you’re worth anything more than this" because Nico does realize eventually that his situation isn't sustainable and that he has to do something- so he takes his narrative back into his own hands:

“Minos laughed. "You have no power over me. I am the god of spirits! The ghost king!" "No." Nico drew his sword. "I am.” (X)

So Nico, if he ever thought he was worth the treatment of being used for someone elses personal gain, he definitely overcomes some of it here, if not all of it. Nico is manipulated and used for Minos's personal gain, but he recognizes that it's not sustainable and makes a stand for himself. And this is the first time in the series where Nico truly is able to take control of his own narrative, everything before this moment is Nico being forced, or Nico with something looming over him, Nico crowning himself is him claiming his story.

So let's consider Hades in all of this, I don't think Hades manipulated Nico to the extent Minos did- but nonetheless, he did manipulate and abuse him, and this hurt Nico more than when Minos did it. Again, in the situation with Hades this is also true, "you unknowingly wear your heart on your sleeve and people will see this and take advantage of your trusting nature and unconditional love and they’ll never really love you they’ll just see you as an easy tool to be manipulated and used how they see fit and you won’t recognize that this is a bad thing". By the time Nico and Hades truly start interacting, we see that Nico's heart hasn't been fully removed from his sleeve, but it may have been lightened.

Here's the thing about the way Nico approached Hades, it's not naïve to trust family. The text in multiple places implies that Hades was around for at least a handful of years when Nico was a kid, it's not unlikely that Nico may have taken naps on his shoulder, held his hand to cross the street, maybe called him "Papa", "Dad", or "Tata" (Italian, English, old Greek). It makes sense that Nico goes to him, what doesn't make sense to Nico at first is that Hades would manipulate him. Unlike many of the other demigods, Nico knows he was a choice, and that at some point he was something wanted, so he expects some level of okay treatment from Hades. Hades loved his mother, and Hades if not wanting of Nico would have wanted Maria's wishes fulfilled, and Nico probably remembers Hades treating him warmly- or at least not harshly. The way Nico went to Hades makes sense, he wasn't expecting open arms surely, but he also wasn't expecting abuse.

Hades emotionally exploits Nico by using information about Maria, what would a little boy want more than the safety of his mother? He's so starved for human contact, who ever held him more than his mother? Who ever loved him more than her? Once Nico delivers Percy to Hades, his father crushes him, not only by harming Percy but by exploiting Nico's trust through Nico's mother- one of the things he's most desperate for.

We see Nico's heart come off his sleeve at this point, maybe not fully, but enough to where a stranger couldn't recognize it at first glance, and in a way where he has the means to hide it from most.

Except we don't see much of this, because the series is narrated by Percy- and Nico can't hide his heart from Percy.

Almost everything Nico does, everything he tries to do, is for Percy. Nico is so desperate for contact that he is pliant, but in Percy's hands Nico actually wants that contact, he's not interested in imitations of love or substitutes- he's looking for the real thing.

And Mr. Oblivious does-Annabeth-like-me Jackson isn't in any headspace to realize that a boy might like him, let alone Nico. This concern that Nico will join Luke, isn't entirely because Percy is misreading signals, but it's definitely part of it. Nico likes Percy so much that at one point he is willing to go to Tartarus if not entirely for him, then partially for him.

If Percy had realized, and rejected Nico- maybe he would have joined Luke, or at least he definitely would have been more likely to. The perception of Nico we get in PJO from Percy is unreliable, because Percy looks at Nico through the lenses of a concerned older brother, and Percy feels guilty in some way for the situation Nico is in. This gives not only a skewed, but slightly falsified narrative of who Nico is.

The original post of mine I linked, although yes, I would like to rewrite aspects of it now it holds up in the sense that Nico is always trying to prove himself, and this is a bit different than being a puppet. Nico is so starved that it is present in everything, @/arabnico gets it right:

nico’s longing is just so raw it consumes him whole and he cannot hide it at all because it reflects in absolutely everything he does and is nico’s just the means of the way for them and he settles for being it because he doesn’t think he can be much better or even deserves to it is sometting so twisted because nico has this innate utalitarian desire to be useful and to do something and to do the right thing but in the game of things he’s reduced to that puppet in the hands of fate and deities millennia older than him that see a wounded wandering soul doomed to be forever alone by a destiny so cruel it keeps him on his knees

Nico, in PJO especially, has little control over his own narrative. His mother is killed in punishment for his father's "wrongs", Nico is forced to endure this. Bianca grows tired of caring for Nico and leaves him behind, this is not Nico's fault but Nico is forced to endure the consequences of her actions. Bianca's fate is decided on a quest Nico isn't even able to go on, he is forced to endure the results. Nico then breaks the cycle, declaring himself The Ghost King, and dethroning Minos. Nico is forced to endure Hades's manipulation only because he did not see it coming, this wasn't an aspect in which Nico didn't have his narrative (he had already taken ownership of his narrative) but a blind spot in his rational.

The place where we vary is why Nico behaves this way, we can agree that it's because he's starving for human connection- but you believe it's because he has no confidence he is willing to submit himself, while I see his submission as an act of desperation.

Personally, I think to argue that Nico is like this as a result of lack of confidence does a disservice to his narrative (obviously it's fine to view him however you wish, and I wish you all the fun in doing so!). To boil this down to starvation and lack of confidence removes some level of Nico's autonomy in his own life, but also strips him of one of his strongest characteristics- those qualities of him which are like Orpheus.

Nico willing to go to the ends of the earth for love is not a weakness but a strength, his ability to carry on beyond the point in which he needs a rest is not a weakness but a sign of strength. His ability to go to the ends of the earth to right wrongs, and to show his love:

"... Cupid struck, slapping Nico sideways into a granite pedestal. Love is no game! It is no flowery softness! It is hard work- a quest that never ends. It demands everything from you- especially the truth. Only then does it yield rewards."

Cupid is explaining Nico's idea of love in this scene, we see Jason say he prefers Piper's idea of love- but Nico only knows love in the way cupid describes, working desperately for a few moments with Bianca, working just to hear any scrap of information about his mother, always trying to prove himself to Percy- to overcome the way he feels about Percy (and boys in general).

Nico has only known love as something you walk to the ends of the Earth for, but he never stops fighting to be loved and acknowledged. Lesser men would give up and lay down, accept they are unworthy, but Nico keeps pushing to be acknowledged and accepted- to be recognized and loved without having to walk to the end of the Earth, but Nico knows he has to walk to that edge and face it before unconditional love will come to him.

To imply that Nico seeks love the way he does because he's unconfident in his ability to receive love ignores the idea that he's had his life forced into this position because of the fates. It loses acknowledgment to the strength it takes to pick yourself up and walk to the end of the Earth time and time again, because if he was unconfident then he would eventually lay down and accept he shouldn't be loved ever again.

I don't think confidence doesn't play into this at all though, it definitely has some impact on Nico, he does view himself as inherently less (he is overly self sacrificial- think Tartarus :/), and he does try to remove himself from others:

You yourself said: you blame yourself for the way people have hurt you, taken advantage of you, and abandoned you. they exploit your love and your naïveté time and time again. you tell yourself, surely, there must be something wrong with you. because—you are convinced—that people are good. “if they hurt me, it is because i am flawed. it is because i am weak. people will always hurt me—even people i love. it’s an inevitable truth for me.” (X)

And this connects to what I said: "The thing about being rejected is that the first time you argue it's the other person. And the second time you'll argue it's still them. If you're still arguing it's other people the third time, maybe but it's thin ice... But eventually you just have to accept that you're at fault."

I do think there's a reason Nico makes himself so "utilitarian", because he hasn't been handed unconditional love since Bianca. But again we disagree on the why, I see Nico's behavior in his utilitarian example of love as caring, the way more people should be in love. Too many people see love as something given without restraint, and yeah, love should be unconditional but in order for love to be unconditional you have to do the work to lay good foundation. To be utilitarian in loving is not an act of weakness, or a symbol of lack of confidence, it is a showcase of more care in love than most have to offer. We care for things, and place value on them determined by how much love and care goes into those things.

I also don't see Nico's self blaming for what happened as flawed, it's logical in his situation, and a common result of CEN. This self blame shows care and kindness, and this coincides with Nico's arcs, "If I am bad, how do I improve? If I have no choice but to be evil, how do I still be good?". Nico is always fighting not to be recognized for good or bad, but to be recognized for what he is.

Trust is not naivety either, the only reason Nico is regarded as naïve is because of the extreme circumstances of his life. People shouldn't have to expect abuse from people who are supposed to love them, people should have to accept abuse in order to receive love. If Nico's life had turned out different, his naivety wouldn't be viewed as a weakness but a strength- a kindness.

We're not actually viewing Nico all that different, there's this space where his character blurs together, and it becomes an individual duty to determine at what point a flaw becomes a strength, and a strength a flaw. Nico's stubbornness is a flaw if we're thinking about grudges, but it's a strength in his work ethic. Nico's ability to stand on his own is a strength in terms of questing, but it's a flaw when it prevents him from experiencing love in fullness.

[starlessskies94]

Consequence (Joel Miller x OC)

Summary: What if Joel survived his injuries from the Abby and Fireflies attack but ends up with really bad amnesia. He can’t remember his wife, Ellie, or the Outbreak; only before. How will his family bring back the man they once knew?

Pairing: Joel Miller x OC

Note: I will admit this isn't a long chapter but it's certainly a humdinger for sure! Hope you enjoy it! x

Chapter Nine

The attic.

Joel didn’t even know he had an attic.

It had taken him a goddamn hour since Tommy had stormed out to find the hatch door. Even after months the house still felt unfamiliar to him. Finding out there was a whole other part of it hidden away, only reminded him of that fact. He was still a stranger living in a stranger’s home.

It had been inside of his walk-in closet.

A downright stupid place for an attic hatch in Joel’s opinion but with a little effort; he’d just about managed to get the door open, extend the ladder out and fasten the bolts in place in order to get inside. He’d hesitated before climbing up; a quick glare to his still healing leg. But it was coming on stronger than he’d care to admit to himself. No longer really needing the cane anymore and mostly using it out of habit. It seemed that holding onto something when the panic came had been a way to ground himself he supposed. When the stress had become too much or the attempts at remembering had become overwhelming. He left the cane leaning against his bedroom wall and turned back towards the attic ladder; a deep breath let out out as he began to climb.

There wasn’t much up there if he was honest; at least not as much as he had been expecting. Just a couple of boxes left in the corner of the dusty space. Two boxes stacked neatly by one of the wooden beams; evidently pushed out of the way as to not stand out too easily. Joel found this whole thing leaving him even more confused; once again clouding his mind with more questions than answers. The all too familiar headache beginning to creep in along with it.

He kneeled slowly beside the small stack of boxes; pulling the top one way from its pile and gently placing it in front of him. The front caught his eye with scribbled black writing.

“Joel and Ada?” He whispered out loud to the dust and unbroken silence. Ada? What did she have to do with this? The man reluctantly removed the lid and ran his eyes over the contents and his stomach lurched at the sight. Pictures. It was a box full of pictures. All of Joel stood with the very same woman that had walked him home one snowy afternoon.

Except this was much more than friendship. The first framed photograph facing him was a picture of them; smiling together hand in hand in front of the small Jackson chapel... Ada wearing a white patched old dress standing proudly with Joel beside her, a wild flower pinned to his flannel shirt. This was a wedding. His wedding.

But he wasn’t married. That had always been something he was sure of. Sure he’d married Sarah’s mother but that had ended almost as quickly as it had started. They’d been way too young at the time and she’d left long before Sarah had really been able to remember her. He’d put the past behind him and always put his little girl first. It had been them against the world after that. Then he’d lost her; a fact he was still having trouble accepting even now. But it was still something he knew for certain. That part of his life was over. He hadn’t dated, hadn’t wanted to. And he was pretty sure there had been no one in Boston waiting for him either. From what Tommy had told him; their only priority had been to just survive. And yet here... right in front of him were pictures of him and Ada...together.

Some of them with the horses in the town’s barn. One of Ada apparently teaching Joel to cook in his kitchen. Although from the look of the smoke and mess, it clearly hadn’t gone well. There were others of Joel playing guitar with Ada singing beside him, another of the two sat by a mountain landscape watching the sunset by a flickering campfire. He quickly pushed them aside, his hands shaking as he dropped the last picture. He shuffled back onto his knees, twisting to reach the other box. Discarding the lid and once again peering inside the mess of hidden photographs. These pictures were of him and Ellie...out by the waters edge in the forest as the man moved to catch the girl in mid flight as she jumped from an overhanging log.

Standing together as the older man seemed to be introducing her, to what looked like a younger Shimmer in the stables. Family photos of all three of them smiling happily; dinners with Tommy and Maria, Christmases and birthdays. A faded picture of Joel standing outside the Wyoming Museum; his arm around the shoulder of a much younger Ellie wearing what looked like a space helmet; proudly showing off a dinosaur book to the camera. Looking at the girl; Joel had to guess she was maybe fourteen? Fifteen in the picture? He wasn't sure. Rummaging further through the box; he found a drawing of his own face staring back at him. His eyes glanced down at the cursive writing in the bottom corner.

‘To Joel, From Ellie.’

Joel swallowed hard, taking it all in before continuing his search through the box, his fingertips brushing against something cold and hard, he dug deeper and pulled out a poorly crafted mug. The handle was badly shaped and the rim was chipped; it looked like it had been sculpted by a child. It was painted a deeply shaded blue; with sloppy red writing on the side along with what looked like a green dinosaur wearing a hat.

‘Worlds Okayest Dad’ (Just kidding, love ya old man!) It read. Joel laughed quietly in spite of himself. Tommy was right, he did have a family. A wife...a kid.

God...how could he have forgotten he was a dad again? And why had Ellie and Ada not said anything?! They had moved out and left him alone. He felt sick at the realisation. Just what the hell had he done wrong for them to up and abandon him like that?

Why had Ada lied to his face when he had asked about her husband? Had everyone lied to him he wondered. Clearly too much of a burden for his wife to deal with apparently. The more he tried to piece things together; the harder his head hurt. It was like trying to read a book but the pages were blank; only the pictures to try to piece together the story. None of it made sense and it only made him that much more angry. His blood boiling as he threw the boxes across the attic floor, the frames smashing against the wood as they landed heavily in a pile before him. The pity in her eyes had only seemed patronising now; her kind smile was fake and wrong. The way Ellie had shied away from him in the barn all made sense now; the girl clearly ashamed by the pathetic charity case her father now was. Or perhaps Ada had told the teen to stay away from him.

Joel was sick and tired of wondering. He didn’t want pity; he wanted answers. He didn’t remember climbing back down or making his way down the street. His mind a blur; his injured leg aching in protest of clearly being pushed too far. But it only fuelled his anger; a hindrance that would only ever be a reminder of the burden he was now to the family, that had abandoned him when he’d needed them most.

When he found himself at Ada's door; he didn’t hesitate. His clenched fist rapping against the wood while the other screwed up the only photograph he’d taken in a hurry. The shards of glass from the broken frame, digging into the flesh of his palm. But he was too numb to feel it. His heart thumping so loudly, the sound echoed in his ears. It felt like an eternity when Adaline finally answered the door. The woman having the audacity to actually smile at him, his jaw tightened, almost tasting the bitterness that ran through his veins between gritted teeth and venomous tongue.

“Hey.” She greeted softly and Joel felt sick at the sight of her. “Everything okay?” he didn’t know why she was asking; it wasn’t as though she actually cared. Her smile quickly dissipated when she saw the cold look in his eye. The dark shadow that had descended across his features. “Joel…” She uttered cautiously.

“I think you and I need to talk.” He growled. She knew it wasn’t a question.

[bestillmyslashyheart]

“So wait,” Maria laughed, “you broke up with your fiance by packing up your car and driving away?”

Liz nodded, half cringing as she did so. “I couldn’t face him!” She shook her head and took the shot Maria offered. “There was nothing wrong with him or with us, it just wasn’t right? And I didn’t know how to explain that to him?”

“So you just left,” Alex concluded.

Liz nodded. “Relationships suck,” she pronounced before tossing back the shot. Maria laughed and handed out another round. Technically she was working but she’d overstaffed the schedule that night so she wasn’t needed. 

“That they do,” Alex murmured in agreement before downing his own. Maria and Liz both turned to stare at him in unison, twin looks of intrigue and glee on their faces.

“Oh?” Maria teased.

“Do tell,” Liz added.

Alex laughed and shook his head. “I’m not drunk enough yet.”

“I can fix that,” Maria told him earnestly. She quickly filled his glass and pushed it back over to him. “Talk to us, Manes,” she ordered.

“You’ve been a man of mystery ever since you got back,” Liz chided gently. 

Alex winced. It was true that he hadn’t exactly shared much since returning to Roswell and reuniting with Liz and Maria but he hadn’t had a lot of practice in recent years talking about himself. Everyone who needed to know something usually found out on their own. It worked for him.

“Oh for fuck’s sake,” Maria muttered suddenly. Alex looked up at her in surprise, Maria wasn’t one to cuss often, only to find her staring over his shoulder. He started to turn but didn’t make it very far before a tall blonde form was pressing up against him.

“Where is he?” Isobel Evans-Bracken demanded sharply. 

“Hey!” Liz cried. She reached out to shove Isobel away from Alex but Isobel brushed her off without looking away.

“Back off, Evans,” Maria ordered. But Alex waved her off.

“Hello to you, too,” he greeted idly. Ignoring her eye roll, he tossed back his newly filled glass. 

“Where is he?” She asked again.

Alex turned his head slightly to look at her. “Do they not have courtesy where your from?” Isobel stifled her flinch but Alex caught it. “Most people say hello first.”

Isobel clenched her jaw. “Hello, Captain.” Alex thought the stress on his rank was entirely unnecessary. “You’ve been home for about a month now so again I ask, where is he?”

“You have a phone, yes?” Alex asked instead of answering.

Isobel scoffed. “As if it does me any good. Now stop avoiding the question.”

Alex rolled his eyes. “I don’t know.”

“Bullshit.”

“I really don’t.” He really didn’t. 

Isobel stared at him like she was trying to get inside his head but Alex ignored her again. “Fine,” she said finally, holding out her hand. “Give me your phone.”

Alex saw Maria and Liz tense at the order, both of them already on edge from Isobel’s sudden appearance and her behavior thus far but he ignored them and pulled his phone out of his pocket. He even unlocked it before handing it over.

Isobel snatched it from him and stomped over to a corner, the phone already pressed against her ear. Alex watched curiously, honestly unsure if she would get a response. It’s not like Alex always did. 

He didn’t have to wait long. “So your phone does work!” Isobel said loudly before continuing in a quieter tone. If Alex strained, he could maybe make out what she was saying but he wasn’t sure he cared enough right now to try.

“Max?!” Liz sat up straight next to him. It was the only warning Alex got before the other Evans twin pressed up next to him.

“Hi, Liz,” Max greeted her warmly before turning to Alex. “Where is he?”

That gave Alex pause. He’d expected Isobel to badger him for information, had been expecting it ever since he crossed the city limit a month ago truthfully, but Max had always kept his distance from Alex. He glanced up at him. “I don’t know.” He gestured over to where Isobel still stood. “She took my phone and seems to have gotten through so go ask her.”

Max went to his sister’s side without another word.

“Okaaaay,” Maria dragged out. “What the fuck?”

---

Alex was more than a little tipsy when he finally got home. He was drunk enough that he probably shouldn’t have been driving but he really hadn’t wanted to spend the night on Maria’s couch so he let her sober him up a little bit before he left. Max and Isobel hadn’t stayed long after her phone call ended and neither one of them had bothered to tell him what the emergency was but Alex did get his phone back so he pushed the encounter out of his mind. Getting Liz and Maria to drop the inquiry had been a bit harder but eventually they realized he wasn’t going to answer their questions and dropped it. For now, at least.

When Alex pulled up to his house, the headlights reflected briefly off the shiny metal of an Airstream. It was parked behind the house, almost hidden from the road. The beat up old Chevy was in the extra parking spot next to Alex’s.

Alex turned off his car and carefully got out. He ignored the truck and the Airstream and the implications of them being there when Alex hadn’t seen either for close to six months.

It was late, he was tired, he was drunk, and he just wanted to go to sleep.

So of course, he opens the door to the sound of a saw.

“Michael!” He yelled helplessly, the noise making his head hurt already. Alex dropped his keys on the table next to the door, made sure the lock was turned, and ventured closer to the noise.

It was coming from his bedroom. No, he realized as he got closer, it was coming from his bathroom. Alex peeked in the doorway and groaned loudly, the sound covered up by the machinery. This morning he’d had a shower tub, now he had a hole in his bathroom. Michael was crouched on the ground, cutting pieces of something Alex couldn’t identify. He had his protective gear on and Alex knew he was oblivious to everything but what was right in front of his eyes.

With a loud sigh, Alex flicked the light switch. Almost instantly, the saw cut off and Michael turned to face the doorway. His hair was a mess, his clothes dirty from his work, and he looked exhausted.

He was still the best thing Alex had seen in months.

“Hey,” he greeted quietly, turning away almost immediately. He started cleaning up his work.

“I need a shower,” Alex complained. His leg was killing him and he felt gross after spending all night at the Pony. Coming home to yet another one of Michael’s projects was not what he’d had in mind for the night. Especially since he hadn’t heard from him in weeks.

“You’ve got another bathroom,” Michael replied. 

Alex thudded his head against the door frame and instantly regretted it. “It doesn’t have handrails.”

“I put the ones from here in there,” Michael told him. 

“Why?” Michael didn’t offer a response other than to cut a glance at Alex’s leg. Alex rolled his eyes. Sure, Michael had promised after his injury to make sure his house was accessible but that was three houses ago. He let it go. “How long are you staying?” He asked instead.

Michael’s shoulders slumped just a little. “Don’t know yet.” He never knew. “You?”

“Don’t know yet,” Alex replied. Michael nodded like he’d been expecting it, though Alex had always had an answer before.

If anyone asked, Michael would deny he’d done it until his dying breath, but a week after Alex left for basic training, Michael packed up his stuff and followed him. He played it off like he wanted a road trip, like he’d ended up in the same town as Alex by pure happenstance, but they both knew he’d followed him. It set a pattern after that: Michael never stayed forever, taking off every now and then with his Airstream and going who knows where, but he always came back to Alex. Even when Alex received new postings, Michael would show up within a month. 

It was unconventional. But it worked for them. Sort of. Mostly.

They weren’t monogamous but they were committed. Mostly. Alex might define it as an open relationship if they’d ever actually had a conversation on the subject. 

When Max and Isobel needed to get a hold of Michael and couldn’t, they called Alex. Or besieged him at the bar. Alex sometimes knew where Michael was. But not always. 

Michael went to school except when he didn’t. He picked up odd jobs and trade skills when he needed to. He never tried for more and it drove Alex crazy. He had so much potential and Alex couldn’t help but think he was squandering it chasing after Alex like he did.

Alex was in the Air Force. That hadn’t changed. Not yet. Neither had Michael’s aversion to it. Michael correlated the Air Force with Alex’s father and most of the time he could look past it for Alex’s sake but sometimes he couldn’t. Those times were times when he would pack and up and leave and Alex wouldn’t see him for months at a time.

Alex’s injury and his refusal to accept an honorable discharge had sent Michael running as soon as he’d made sure Alex was okay. 

It was the first time Alex hadn’t been sure Michael would come back.

“I’ll have a new shower in by tomorrow,” Michael told him, yanking Alex from his thoughts. “It’s got a bench and some other stuff to make it accessible.” Alex held in his sigh of relief. He’d been making his shower tub work for the last month but it was exhausting. 

“Thank you,” he told Michael sincerely.

Michael nodded in response and stood up, his work tidied enough not to trip Alex up in case he needed to get by for any reason. “Come on,” he shooed. “Shower.” It was a wordless offer to help and Alex appreciated it.

Alex didn’t move. He waited right where he was until Michael was right in front of him. “Hi,” he said softly.

“Hi,” Michael huffed in fond amusement. “You gave my sister your phone.”

“You didn’t have to answer.”

He shrugged. “I thought it was you.”

Alex twisted his fingers in the front of Michael’s shirt and pulled him in for a kiss. “I missed you.”

Michael kissed him again, longer this time. “Missed you too. Now shower. You smell like the floor of the Pony.”

[llogllady99]

INTERMISSION

CHARACTERS | Levi, Erwin, Hange, Petra, Nanaba, Mike, Eld, Gunther, Oluo, Moblit

RELATIONSHIPS | Erwin x Levi

Genre | Reincarnation, Afterlife

IV | Afterlife, Hurt/Comfort, Reincarnation, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence. Alternate Universe - Modern Setting/ Reincarnation, Fluff, Reunions, Introspection.

SUMMARY | Levi dies and reunites with Erwin and the others in the Afterlife. 

WORD COUNT | 2.5k

It was one of those sunny days that Levi passed away. The kind of days that occurred in the middle of summer, sun shining proudly in the centre of the sky, beaming with light in all directions; its yellow rays placing gentle kisses and giving shape to everything around them. A breeze blew gently, ruffling the blades of overgrown grass, flowers, and other plants that were blooming by a pristine and crystalline river. A river so clean and fresh that even the tiniest of rocks could be visible. Southern Magnolias, Flowering Dogwoods, birch, and oak trees lined the river and gardens of the people resided in the area. On such particular days, Levi could be found gardening away his late adulthood; his garden was the most clean and organised with freshly mowed lawn and colourful flowers, trees, and bushes placed meticulously around the alleyway that lead to the entrance of the house, the backyard, by his windows and entrances, and inside the house. Therefore, it should have been no surprise when Levi spent his last day doing exactly that: cleaning, organising, and arranging things.

It came unexpectedly, like death often does. It should have upset Levi, he was still considered too young to die by the rest of the world, but he himself couldn’t have been more happier, more relieved, and at peace. It had started with a soft breeze, blowing through his now white strands of hair that were still arranged in the same familiar undercut and under his white cotton dress shirt that was a bit oversized. Then came a wave of unfamiliar fatigue, causing Levi to lie on his back on the grass, his eyes now on the sapphire sky, watching the different sized clouds move along in slow motion. Somehow he knew his time had come, he always had great intuition. With black now cornering his vision, the man closed his eyes, letting the sun rest gently on his face, warming him one last time. He smelled the sweet aroma of his flowers, he listened to the almost silent buzz of a bee in the distance, appreciating the things he had become so used to. Finally ready, Levi inhaled deeply, and with a contented smile spreading on his tired and wrinkled face, exhaled slowly as everything went black, sounds and sensations ebbing away gradually.

However, the world didn’t stop, the sun still shone, the birds still sang their relaxing songs, their high pitched chirps sounding through the valleys, the wind still blew, and the clouds in the sky still travelled their never ending journey; a perfect day for humanity’s strongest soldier to pass away.

-

Levi was now engulfed in deep darkness, thick and relentless. Silence reigning over the infinite void. It wasn’t a heavy silence or an uncomfortable one but rather comforting and warm, making him feel at peace in god knows how long. He looked down at his hands, they weren’t wrinkly anymore but soft and smooth again. He was back in his original form, his old inky black hair hanging daintily on his forehead, his cheekbones once again high and sharp, his eyes now a strong grey steel, and his lips rosy red. His body was also young again. Now that he was in this purgatory of sorts, a giant screen appeared in front of him, displaying moments from his life in chronological order. He saw himself as a baby, his mother cutting for the first time his hair in an undercut, his mother telling him stories, embracing him, loving him. Then came her death, her horrible death, leaving Levi alone. His uncle Kenny made his appearance on the screen, taking him under his care, teaching him how to fight and defend himself after walking away never to be seen again. It showed how he met Isabell and Furlan, the days they spent together in the underground. The blonde boy reading to them by the fire, Isabell snoring in Levi’s lap, his hands in her hair, twisting the ginger strands, Levi defending the redhead in a fight, and Isabell telling them jokes one night whilst playing cards. All of the precious moments now unfolding before his eyes. It made Levi’s heart swell with happiness at seeing their faces again. He had forgotten their faces after so much time but seeing them now reminded him of their bond, their brother like bond. Then he joined the survey corps and shit hit the fan.

Next came memories of joining the survey corps, of seeing Erwin for the first time, their first kiss, first time making love, moving in the same room together, going out with his comrades, Hange, Nanaba, Mike, Moblit, everyone made an appearance on the screen. Then came the brats, their round baby faces and bright eyes full of determination. Retaking wall Maria. Erwin’s death…

It displayed the four years in between their battles. The years when he moved in with Hange and having tea with them every other afternoon before making the plans for the attack on Liberio. The shit show started, the whole fucking rumbling, Eren going batshit crazy, Mikasa killing him, and them staying behind in Marley. His friendship blossoming with the other two brats and finally tasting true freedom, a world with no walls where the sky was the limit. Other sequences also played, like how he returned to Paradis, Gabi and Falco’s visits, who were now married and living happily in some exotic country, and then the day he died. He would have argued he lived a beautiful life, one which he certainly didn’t regret, but after Erwin’s and Hange’s death his only purpose was to survive the day, get through it and ignore the sinking feeling in his gut.

If this was the after life, why wasn’t anyone here? Did he do something wrong? Where was Erwin? Didn’t he promise he’ll be waiting for him? For the first time in the darkness, Levi felt suffocated, he couldn’t breathe, the overwhelming feeling he did something wrong washed over him, imbuing his every cell and tissue. Luckily, before he could finish that destructive train of thought, a glimmer of white appeared in the distance. As the small dot got bigger and bigger, Levi realised it was some kind of vortex that was sucking everything in it, including him. It sucked in his feet first then his hips, stomach, arms and finally his head. Everything went white around him, his spirit was travelling with so much speed that he felt he was inside an airplane engine, the turbines spinning faster and faster, the noise getting louder and louder, and finally the plane took off. As the noise reached its apex, Levi’s surroundings became silent until he was pushed out of the vortex and into the afterlife, the one in which his comrades also seemed to be.

Levi landed bottom first and with a thud, his backside coursing with pain. He flinched and got up. He scanned his surrounding and noticed that in the far off distance there was a group of people. Relief washed over his entire being as the feelings of panic and loneliness left him entirely. One by one he willed his feet to move, each step becoming more hurried, until he broke out in a run. The shape of the group was getting bigger and bigger as Levi closed the distance between them. The closer he got, the more he could make out their faces. Wait! Was that blonde and messy brown? Hange and Erwin? Happiness started blossoming in his chest, like a bush of Camelias in spring, the flowers opening up more and more, becoming bigger and bigger covering the whole green bush with their beautiful pure white and milky pink. A smile grazed his features and tears started falling down his face, each droplet streaming down his jawline then falling on the ground behind him.

“Erwin!�� Levi shouted, finally getting his lover’s attention. Erwin turned, wide eyed as he recognised his voice and broke into one of his famous full mouth grins. He extending his arms, inviting the raven in. Levi gladly took that invitation, jumping on Erwin and sending both of them tumbling down, wrapping his arms tightly around the blonde, sniffling that familiar cent of cologne and tobacco. “You waited for me! I can’t believe you waited.”

“Of course I did, in fact all of us did. Look around Levi, we’re all here.” Levi lifted his face and looked around, his eyes landing on Hange grinning maniacally at him, Nanaba and Mike close to each other, Moblit, and his squad.

“Heya guys! Long time no see I guess.” Levi stood up from Erwin and made his way in between the group, taking everyone’s faces in. They were all here. He looked in Hange’s direction, they now looked truly happy without a care in the world. He approached them and wrapped them in a tight embrace, one which he so seldom offered when they were alive.

“Hey short stuff. Gotta admit watching over ya from up here got kinda boring. You were never up to any shenanigans, you just sat there all day reading your damn newspaper and drinking that awful tea.” Hange playfully reprimanded him. Levi snorted then play kicked their feet. Petra came up and hugged him from behind, burying her soft ginger hair between his shoulder blades. She inhaled shakily and choked out:

“Missed you so much, Levi Heichou.” Levi turned around and tucked some of her hair behind her year, setting his hand on her cheek, rubbing with one thumb a tear that spilled from her left eye. The raven then wrapped her tightly in the same hug he’d given Hange, burying her small head in his shoulder. “Missed you too.”

Mike came up and sniffed his hair, his nose scrunching up taking up as much of the sent as possible and his eyebrows furrowed in concentration, trying to pin point the smells. He then patted Levi on the shoulder and told him:

“You still smell the same, maybe except with a hint of a flowery touch to it.”

“Always so romantic.” Levi replied, shaking his hand like brothers do. Nanaba came up behind Mike and offered him one of her beautiful smiles. “Great seeing you Levi, but Mike,” she then grabbed the tall man’s hand pulling him towards her, “it’s time for us to go.”

“Go where?” Levi asked frantically, he just got here why were they going already?

“We will get reincarnated, me, Mike, and Erwin.” Nanaba replied casually as if it was the most natural thing. Levi started hyperventilating.

“Why?” He croaked. “I just got here, you can’t go! Not yet! Erwin please don’t go!” He looked around and found the blonde standing next to Mike, he grabbed his hand tightly, urging him not to go, however it was for nothing as his lover wouldn’t budge.

“I can’t Levi, my time has come.” Erwin grabbed both of his hand and kissed his knuckles and fingers, rubbing them against his cheek. “I need you to watch over me and when your time comes too, join me. We’ll meet again, in a world with no titans and infinite time on our hands. We will truly be happy there.”

“Fine, but promise me you won’t do anything stupid Erwin. Wait for me.” Levi demanded, raising himself on his tip toes and pulling Erwin down for a passionate kiss. After they parted, Erwin stepped next to Nanaba and Mike again and waved his big hand at the others before all three of them vanished from sight.

Over time, the same exact thing happened to the others. Eld and Gunther went, shortly followed by Auruo, the other people also gradually disappearing to god knows where. After some time, only him, Hange, Petra, and Moblit were left. Now it seemed that Moblit’s time had come too, if the bear hug he gave Hange was anything to go by. Offering them one last kind smile, Moblit vanished, leaving now only the three of them. Hange cried that day, harder than he ever saw them do it and Petra rested her head on Levi’s shoulder, sorrow and longing also emanating from her being. For a few years, all they could do was watch. Watch Erwin’s seventh birthday party, Mike and Nanaba chewing on their toys, Eld being adopted, guess he didn’t have much luck in this life either, Gunther ride his bike, Auruo playing his first song on the piano and so on. On a not so special day, when they resumed their seats and watched over the others, Hange stood up and with a kind smile and wave their hand they vanished too. Levi cried and so did Petra, they missed their friend dearly but it was bound to happen. A few short months after Petra also left, leaving Levi alone, drowning in the familiar feeling of loneliness.

A month after, Levi got visitors in the after life, they were Armin, Mikasa, and Annie. They greeted their captain and took their seats next to him, joining him in watching over his friends.

“I guess now I have you brats to watch over me when I’ll go down there.” He joked, getting a pat on the back from Armin.

“Hopefully, in the next life I won’t be a midget anymore, You guys don’t know how fucking hard that has been for me.” That earned him a laugh from all of them. Over the next two months all of them got closer together, Armin and Mikasa telling him about how his death impacted everyone. Apparently it has been a national funeral, all the nobles and even queen gathering around his coffin. How ironic.

One day, Levi woke up groggier than usual and much more heavy. It felt as if the ground was pulling him towards it. It was no doubt: his time had come. Armin was the only one that was watching the world down below, Mikasa and Annie sleeping soundly a few feet away. Levi sat next to him and cleared his throat, redirecting the blonde’s attention to him.

“This reincarnation thing is so beautiful, getting a second chance in a world not as cruel as ours.” Armin began. “I’m glad we aren’t stuck here forever, it gets more boring every day.”

“Try doing that shit for seven years.”

“That’s really long. I can’t stand this place anymore and I’ve only been here for what? Two months? If you don’t mind me asking, who was the first to go?” Armin asked, a little bit shy in case he was prying too much.

“Erwin.” Armin’s eyes widened. “Yeah, I just got here and he was already gone. But now is my time and I’ll finally be reunited with him.” Levi stood up and grabbed Armin’s hand also pulling him to his feet. “See ya Armin, you were always my favourite cadet.”

Bringing his fists and arms to his chest, delivering his last salute to the 15th Commander of the Survey Corps, he vanished, white clouding his vision. Everything went black afterwards.

-

The next time Levi opened his eyes, he was crying his eyes out and shouting like a mad man, his little legs and arms kicking and moving in all directions. He had been born into the new world.

Notes: 

A song I would recommand while reading the fic is It's been a long, long time. Anyways, thank you for taking the time to read it and notes and comments are welcomed, Obviously, I do not own Attack on titan or any of the characters that take part in it. They are inspiration for my works and I love them to the core. Thank you again lovelies for taking the time to read it! <333

[scripts4dreamers]

Bedside Manner

AN: Lockdown is always hellish but it does leave you a lot of time to think. Characters: Marcus Arguello Pairing(s): Marcus x reader Spoiler(s): None Warning(s): Swearing, unhealthy coping mechanism (Smoking/drinking)

 Prompt: this post I saw from @write-it-motherfuckers

-----------------------

When the monks rushed in and started pulling people out of class, you weren’t sure if you were terrified or relieved. On one hand, you could hear the fight happening in the corridors, the sound of Saya and Maria yelling at one another, kids cheering something on, and you were scared of what they might do to one another if no one intervened. On the other, the school itself getting involved was almost never a good sign and, as a staff slammed into your back, ushering you forward, you couldn’t help the rising tide of panic in your chest. The corridors were packed with students being pushed and shoved towards their rooms and you searched through the chaos, without much hope, for a familiar face.

“Y/N!” You heard someone call, “Y/N!”

“Marcus?” You shouted back, turning in the direction of the voice, “Marcus where are you?”

“I’m here!” He shouted, closer now.

The kids next to you pushed and shuffled forward, blocking your view and, no matter how much you twisted and turned, you couldn’t see past flashes of navy blazers and anonymous patches of skin. It was horribly claustrophobic but, just as the panic started to get too much, you felt a hand wrap around your wrist and caught sight of a familiar mess of brown curls.

“Got you,” Marcus assured, still several people behind you, “shit Y/N/N I thought-shit, I’m so glad you’re okay.”

“Maria and Saya?” You asked.

Marcus shook his head, “I’ll explain later. What’re the monks doing?”

You opened your mouth to explain but, before you could, Master Lin did it for you.

“Everybody back to your rooms,” Master Lin’s voice boomed, “We’re officially in lockdown.”

Marcus’ eyes widened. The monk at your back shoved you hard, forcing you forward and through the first available door. You stumbled in, tripping over a backpack on the floor, and just managed to catch yourself before you fell. From behind you you could hear Marcus being pushed into the room and, beyond that, just for a second, the sounds of your fellow students yelling and complaining before the door to your room slammed shut and you heard the lock click into place. Your heart sank and you swore under your breath, turning to face Marcus, who was tugging uselessly on the door handle.

“It’ll be locked from the outside,” you told him, “always is during lockdown.”

Marcus Arguello was almost a friend of yours. Almost. You liked him well enough. He was smart and funny and caring, he was friends with all of your friends, he was helpful and interesting, he respected boundaries and he always knew how to get a smile out of you. All in all, he was an incredible person, but that was kind of the problem; you liked him a lot. Too much. Since his first day at King’s, Marcus had done nothing but make you smile and blush and generally make an idiot out of yourself at every available opportunity, which, at this particular high school, wasn’t just embarrassing, it was dangerous. Trouble followed him like a lovesick puppy, putting your life at risk more than once but, no matter how many times you told yourself to just forget him and move on, you couldn’t. You just kept coming back, every time. You wanted to believe that some part of you was distancing itself from Marcus and that that was why you were hesitant to call him a friend but, if you were honest, you just weren’t keen on lying to yourself. You were in too deep, he meant too much to you.

He sighed, “Fuck.”

You hummed in agreement, trying to hide how nervous the idea of being stuck in a room with Marcus made you feel. There wasn’t much else to say about lockdown anyway. They didn’t happen often, but this was by no means your first, and you knew there was no real point in fighting it.

“This is bullshit,” Marchus continued, “they’re not really just gonna keep us locked in here, are they?”

“Yup,” you answered, collapsing onto the bed and picking up a book, “no leaving except two bathroom breaks a day and meal times. You might as well get comfortable.”

“This isn’t even my room,” Marcus complained, “what the hell am I supposed to do now?”

“No, it’s my room,” you explained, gesturing to the other twin sized bed, “you could start by sitting down and telling me what the hell is going on.”

Ever since that trip to Vegas, where everything had gone so horribly wrong, things had been different. Marcus had been different. He was more somber, vacillating between being on edge and being extremely happy and relaxed. He was stressed, of course, you all were but there would be moments when you would look up and catch him just watching you and then, when he saw you looking, he would just smile a bit, like he was sad about something. It always made something in your chest pinch. What made the situation worse was that, outside of those moments, he’d been distant with you. More distant than what was usual for Marcus. As far as you could tell, he was avoiding you in class, sitting next to Petra or Lex at lunch and just generally keeping you at arm’s length. You hadn’t had a real conversation in weeks. You wanted to be indifferent to it but, in reality, it had hurt more than you wanted it to and you wanted an explanation.

He wasn’t smiling at you now. If anything, you noted as Marcus folded himself onto the floor with his back against your roommate’s bed and buried his head in his hands, he looked tired, like he hadn’t slept in days and it was wearing on him. That thing near your heart pinched again and you cursed your own selfishness. Marcus had obviously been dealing with a lot, more than the rest of you combined probably, and all you could do was think about your bruised ego. Typical. Cautiously you swung yourself upright, sitting cross legged on your mattress to face your friend.

“Marcus, are you okay?”

“Hmm?” he answered, his voice thick with exhaustion, “What? Oh, yeah, I’m fine Y/N/N, don’t worry about it.”

You raised an eyebrow in disbelief but didn’t push, knowing he’d open up in his own time.

‘How long do you think we’ll be in here?” he asked.

You shrugged, “Until Lin gets what he wants, I guess.”

“What if-” he paused, “what if he doesn’t though? What happens then?”

You leant forward, “What’s going on, Marcus?” you asked gently, “You can tell me. Maybe I can help.”

Before you’d even finished the question he was shaking his head, “No. No, Y/N/N trust me, you can’t help with this.”

“I can try,” you argued, giving him a small smile, “I’m pretty smart, you know?”

For a second it looked like Marcus wanted to cry. His eyes watered up and you had to fight the instinct to reach down and pull him into a hug.

“Yeah, I know that.” he said softly, sniffing and wiping his eyes to force back the tears, “Okay, Y/N, I’ll tell you.”

Satisfied, you leant back on your bed, waiting expectantly while Marcus collected his thoughts. He sighed again, running his hand through his already messed up hair. His dark eyes darted around your room, taking in every inch of the place like he’d never seen a dorm before. It made you feel strangely unsettled.

“This really your room?” he asked, pulling out a cigarette and sliding it between his lips, “It’s nice.”

You rolled your eyes, “Yes, it’s my room and you,” you started, leaning forward and pulling the cig out of his mouth, “can’t smoke in here.”

“Wha-really?” Marcus complained, trying and failing to sound nonchalant.

His hands were fidgety, which meant he was nervous.

“Yes, really, Now stop deflecting and tell me why I’m stuck in my room with no one but you for company, and why you look like you haven’t slept in a month, will you?”

He met your eye and you felt, more than saw, his resistance crumble.

“Well, I should probably start with how I blew up my old roommate at the boy’s home,” Marcus started, leaning back against the bed, “and why he wants to kill me for it.”

----------------------

When Marcus finally fell silent you were shocked. You felt like a tidal wave of information had just knocked you over and you were just drowning in it all. How had so much been happening without your knowledge? Some things you’d known about, of course, like Maria killing Chico and Billy killing his dad but, all this other stuff? Chester and El Diablo? Maria killing Yukio? Juan going after Saya in the middle of the hallway?

“Jesus Christ,” you said.

Marcus snorted, “You can say that again.”

You reached behind your bed and pulled out a bottle of vodka that was still mostly full, left over from some house party or another that you’d managed to smuggle in. In one fluid motion, before you could think better of it, you twisted the cap off and took a deep swig, sloshing a little bit on your uniform by accident. The alcohol burned like fire on the way down and you grimaced as you passed the bottle to Marcus.

“Thank fuck,” said, accepting the bottle gratefully, “Y/N, you’re an angel, if you ever need anything-”

“Yeah, yeah,” you smiled, “shut up and drink, Arguello.”

“If I must,” he joked with a melodramatic sigh, taking a massive gulp.

As he drank, you watched Marcus as inconspicuously as you could. He seemed lighter now, like the act of opening up to you had taken a huge weight off his shoulders. You still weren’t exactly sure how you felt about it all. Were you confused? Angry? Terrified? Did you wish he’d never said anything? Were you happy he’d trusted you? You didn’t know, probably a little bit of all of it but, despite the craziness and confusion, you were glad you’d been able to help, even if it was just by listening. Talking to Marcus had always been one of your favorite things to do and, sadly this was the most genuine conversation you’d had with one another since Vegas. It was nice, in a weird, messed up sort of way.

“Is this why you’ve been so off with me lately?” you eventually asked, “You were trying to keep this all a secret?”

Marcus grimaced, whether from the alcohol or embarrassment you weren’t sure, and passed the bottle back.

“I’ve always been shit at lying to you and, yeah, I wanted to keep you out of it,” he admitted, “I thought if I just waited long enough everything would just sort of die down.”

“But it hasn’t?”

“But it hasn’t,” he agreed.

“So, we’re all basically fucked.” you said simply.

“Unless I can get to Saya, convince her not to gut Maria and explain what happened before anyone else does, yeah.”

“Well,” you sighed, pushing yourself up onto your feet and sliding your secret stash of contraband from its hiding place in the ceiling, “you know, whatever happens I’ll fight by your side when the time comes,” you said, avoiding his eye, “but for now, since this might be one of our last chances, we might as well enjoy the peace and quiet.”

Marcus looked up at the contraband and smiled, “you’re amazing, you know that?”

Blood rose to your cheeks and you broke his gaze, tossing a bag of cheetos at him, “Shut up.” you said fondly, “And don’t ever keep me in the dark like that again.”

The teasing glint in Marcus’ eyes softened and he reached out to catch your hand, forcing you to look back at him from where he sat on the floor.

“Never.” he promised.

You passed the first few hours of lockdown in a bubble of serenity. While you lay on your bed reading and listening to music, Marcus doodled in his journal all the while maintaining an easy conversation with you. You avoided the hard topics, focussing instead on music and comic books and which teachers you thought would win in a fight as you passed the bottle of vodka back and forth. It felt good, easy even, joking with one another like nothing had happened, like nothing had changed. And maybe it hadn’t, you reasoned to yourself, maybe this is how it had always been at King’s; a little bit messy, a little bit terrifying but better than what your life had been before. Maybe this was enough, maybe this was the trade off you made when you agreed to go to a school for assassins and, maybe, you could be okay with that.

At some point Marcus had moved and was now leaning up against your bed instead of your roommates so that you could play with his hair while he drew. It was something you’d discovered that he liked entirely by accident, sitting on the roof together one night when he was still fairly new at King’s. Back then he’d been so touch starved that he’d almost cried the first time he felt your fingers carding through his hair and you’d wondered, not for the first time, what exactly had happened in that boy’s home to make him so afraid. You’d never do it in public of course, people would get the wrong idea and pick on you both if you did but, in private, you’d gotten used to just reaching out and twirling one of his curls around your finger whenever you wanted. As you gently let your fingers scrape against his scalp you could hear Marcus' pencil as it scratched against the paper, and you fought the urge to lean forward and see what he was drawing. Journals were private shit, you reminded yourself, if Marcus wanted to show you what he was doing, he would.

“What’re you reading?” He asked, breaking the comfortable silence you’d fallen into.

“The color purple,” you replied, “my mom sent it to me.”

“I didn’t know you and your mom were close like that,” Marcus said, a note of confusion in his voice, “in fact,” he stopped drawing suddenly and twisted his head to look at you, “I don’t really know anything about your family.”

You shrugged, “There’s not much to know, really. My parents are smugglers and I’m at King’s, end of story.”

“End of story? Just like that?” he retorted, “Come on Y/N/N, you know everything about me and I know almost nothing about you. Tell me something.”

“That’s ‘cause you are a chronic oversharer and a terrible judge of character,” you teased, ruffling his hair and returning to your book. Marcus sighed, all melodrama and betrayal and you could feel his eyes burning a hole through The Color Purple. You swore loudly and sat up, “Fine, whatever, you win,” you conceded, “what do you want to know?”

“Yes!” he sighed, laughing at his own cleverness before continuing, “Okay, do you have any siblings?”

“I had an older sister, she died when I was eight and we’re not going to talk about it,” you answered, “next.”

“Favorite colour?”

“Blue or grey.”

“Where were you born?”

“In a tiny little city you’ve never heard of,” you said.

“Have you ever been arrested?” Marcus pressed on.

“Twice, have you?”

“Never,” he replied.

“Okay square,” you joked, “my turn. What’s your biggest fear?”

“Jesus, alright,” Marcus laughed, reaching for the vodka, “if we’re going there we both need to be like 15% less sober.”

You snatched the bottle back, “How about this, for every question we choose to answer we get to drink. If we pass on a question then the other person gets to ask two more which we then can’t pass on, agreed?”

“A drinking game version of twenty questions? What are we, seven?” Marcus complained, but he shook your hand anyway, “Agreed.”

“Good, so back to my question,” you started, “what, Marcus Lopez Arguello, is your biggest fear?”

Marcus looked at you for a long moment, like he was sizing you up and, instinctively, you fought back the urge to shiver under the weight of his stare. He was, of course, incredibly handsome; the sort of handsome that you couldn’t help but notice, even when you were trying not to, but that wasn’t what made it so difficult to meet his eye. No, what made it difficult was that, despite what he thought, Marcus really knew you. He saw past all the bullshit showboating, all the carefully constructed facades. Every single defense mechanism you had was worthless against him because, at the end of the day, you didn’t really want to keep Marcus out. If anything you wanted him closer and, when he looked at you like that, you felt like he might see right through you, into that secret part of your heart that you kept hidden. So you did what any self respecting coward would do; you looked away. Marcus sighed and reached for the bottle.

“Dying without really having lived,” he admitted, taking a swig from the bottle, “and dying alone I guess. You?”

You wrinkled your nose, “Pass.”

“What?” Marcus laughed incredulously, “You can’t pass! I just bared my soul to you and you’re just gonna opt out? Boooooo! Booooooo Y/N!”

“Fine,” you laughed, “fine I’ll tell you. I uh-I’m afraid that I’ll never find somewhere to belong. Like maybe I’m just always gonna feel like an outsider wherever I am until I die, maybe even after that.”

“You belong with us,” Marcus said, “with me and Billy and Petra and the others.”

You shook your head and drank deep, wincing at the vodka’s burn, “Nah, I don’t. Not really at least, not like you and Billy. I’m sure they all like me just fine but, at the end of the day, I’m nobody’s reason for being there, you know?” Marcus looked thoughtful but, just as he opened his mouth to answer, you cut him off, desperate to avoid hearing whatever kind, pitying lie he’d come up with, “Anyway moving on, it’s your turn Arguello. Hit me with your best question, I’m an open book.”

You traded questions back and forth like that for quite some time, laughing and joking and drinking as you did. Marcus was ruthless in his honesty, laying himself bare in front of you and refusing to pass on even a single question. You passed on many. Not all of them were deep and personal, some were funny or nonsensical, but enough were deep and personal that, by the time the alcohol had started to really kick in, you were feeling a little raw. It was like Marcus was desperate to wrap himself up in his own honesty, clinging to every shred of emotional intimacy he could find like it was a lifeline and flinging himself ever deeper into his own vulnerability. Usually you would have pulled back so fast at the idea of being that open that you’d have given yourself whiplash but now, with the alcohol making you feel warm and light, and Marcus smiling at you like there was nowhere else in the world that he would rather be, you revelled in it. There was a sort of tension building too, not exactly something but almost something….very nearly something, and part of you was just excited to see what it was. Marcus laughed at something you said, you didn’t even remember what, and the sound made you so happy that you actually had to stop and catch your breath. He was still leaning against your bed but now his back was to the cupboard next to your headrest so that he could face you while you talked. Unfortunately this also meant that you could study his face more conveniently, mapping every dip and curve and scar like he might vanish if you looked away. Dangerous territory, a voice in your head whispered, sharp turns up ahead.

“Shhh, stop, it’s my turn,” Marcus asserted, still breathless from laughing, “Okay, no shhh-Y/N-listen, here’s my question; have you ever been in love?”

Dangerous territory! Your brain shouted, Abort, abort, abort, abo-

“Nope,” you answered, which felt like a lie even though it technically wasn’t, “have you?”

“Is that your question?” he asked, which some small part of your brain noted was strange since, up until now, you’d both been answering every question.

“No! Well-yes-but I have a different, better question so just answer this one anyway.” you said, pushing the thought away and looking down at Marcus expectantly.

He held your gaze for a second longer, took a deep, deep drink and nodded before saying, like it physically pained him, “I’m in love now.”

Your heart stuttered and dropped into your stomach like a stone, but you kept your face neutral, “Saya?”

Marcus gave you a wry smile that hinged on sadness, “Is that your question?”

You blushed and shook your head, trying to recapture the fun, carefree energy you’d had just moments before. Somehow, your drunk brain noted, you’d made Marcus sad. Or he had made himself sad. Or the question had made him sad, maybe? It was confusing and thinking about it made your chest feel tight so you just pushed forward.

“No, here’s my question-are you ready? It’s a good one-here it is; what is your most precious recent memory and why?”

Marcus frowned, “Most precious memory? What does that mean? Do you mean my best memory?”

You shook your head, “See, that’s why it’s so good; a precious memory is like a good memory, only more. It’s a memory you play over and over in your head whenever things get tough because something important happened there, something you didn’t realize was happening when you were in it. So you have to keep remembering it, you know?” you explained, “So you can figure out what happened and why it was so important.” you continued, “And I say recent because, well, we’ve talked about our families a lot, and the people we’ve lost, but we’re on our own now, and we’ve gotta start making new precious memories.”

“Oh,” Marcus said softly.

“It’s good right?” you continued, distantly aware that Marcus was looking sad again, “Like mine is that day that I tried to stop Viktor from stealing that girl’s kit kat.”

“You mean when he and his goons beat you to a pulp?” he asked dubiously.

“Almost to a pulp,” you corrected, “but while he was wailing on me, the girl got away. I knew when I went in that Vic would beat the shit out of me, but I did it anyway and it worked. It was the day I realised that the choices I make can have some positive effect on the world, so long as I’m willing to take the consequences of them.” you finished, shifting so that your head was resting on your hand, “So, what’s yours and why?”

Marcus shook his head and took another sip from the vodka bottle, “You’re killing me here, Y/N/N. Pass.”

Your jaw dropped, “What!?! NO! You never pass on questions, that’s like your thing.”

“Yeah well I’m passing on this one so just-” he waved his hand, shooing away your berating, “ask me something else.”

“Fine,” you sighed, mulling over the possibilities in your head for a moment, “okay well, since you apparently are in love and I’ve never been in love, what does it feel like?”

“Hmm?”

You met his eye, “Being in love,” you clarified, “what does it feel like?”

In the dim light of your dorm room it was hard to tell, but you were pretty sure you saw Marcus flush deep red.

“It-uh-” he started, fiddling with his hands, “it’s kind of hard to describe.”

“Try,” you encouraged softly, mesmerized by the shift in his demeanour.

“Well I-” Marcus cleared his throat, “for a long while I wasn’t sure it actually was love. I thought maybe it was just general teen stupidness you know? You want what you can’t have, projecting onto someone you admire, that sort of crap but then one day-after Vegas actually-it just,” he shrugged, “changed.” you listened intently as every word burrowed itself into the small secret part of your heart like a knife, and he continued, “Suddenly everything made sense. It’s like my whole damn life was leading me to that moment, like maybe this was why all the shitty stuff happened, so that I could be here, feeling like this.” he explained simply, keeping his gaze focused on his hands, “And now it’s fucking crazy ‘cause all this shit’s going on and all I can think about is keeping-is not losing this. My heart feels like it’s gonna explode half the time, like it’s too damn big for my body and it hurts but it’s a good hurt, like stretching a stiff muscle. I’m not even really worried for myself anymore, but I’m so fucking scared that something I say or do is gonna come back and mess everything up and-” he shook his head, his voice quivering, “and I’m terrified, but I also don’t ever want this feeling to go away. It’s scary having someone hold your heart like this but, at the same time, I think not feeling like this, now that I know what it’s like, would hurt a million times more.” he finished, tensing his jaw and fidgeting like he was nervous, “Sorry, bit of a rambling answer. I owe you another one, don’t I?”

“Hmm? Oh, yeah,” you answered, snapping yourself back into focus. It felt like the air itself was heavy with tension now, like all the things you wanted to say were swirling around your head, invisible but always present because you knew that feeling. You knew it all too well and for him to feel that way, to talk that passionately about someone else...you just couldn’t take it. “Okay for my second question;” you continued, “tell me your most precious memory and why.”

This time all the blood leached out of Marcus’ face, like he was becoming a ghost right before your eyes. You felt mean, it was a total bastardisation of the rules and you knew it but there was a little voice in the back of your mind telling you that this was the only question you wanted answered, that this was what you needed to know.

“That’s so against the rules.” Marcus tried, lightening the atmosphere considerably.

“No it’s not,” you argued, “it’s a dick move for sure but there was nothing specifically forbidding it in our original agreement.”

“You suuuuuuuck,” Marcus whined, leaning into your arm where it hung off the bed.

Instinctively you threaded your fingers through his hair, playing with the soft curls like you always did. You felt Marcus arch up into your touch, humming with pleasure as you scraped your fingers through the baby hairs on the back of his neck. He shivered, but the tension slipped out of his muscles and he relaxed with a sigh, resigning himself to his fate.

“Do you really want to know?” He asked softly.

“I really do,” you replied.

“Okay then” he breathed, “honestly, it’s that time on the way back from Vegas when everyone else had gone into the gas station for food, and it was just you and me in the backseat of Willie’s car.” he continued, “You had your hair pinned back and I was telling you some story about my childhood while we waited. You had a red sweater on, and bright blue nails. It was dark out, but the lights from the gas station were shining around your head like a halo.”

“I remember,” you told him, your voice hardly louder than a whisper, “but why? Why that memory?”

Marcus looked up, his dark eyes filed to the brim with the kind of vulnerable sincerity that made you feel breathless and afraid. Slowly, as though he were approaching an injured animal, he reached up and pulled your fingers from his hair and held your palm in both of his. You were frozen, like a deer in headlights, but you still felt the shiver as it ran up your spine at his touch.

“It was the first time I saw you smile, for real, since we’d arrived in Vegas,” he explained, studying your hand, “up until then I was pretty sure I was never gonna see it again but,” he shook his head and shrugged, “I made some awful joke about wishing I’d known then what I knew now and...you laughed. You really laughed and you rested your forehead on my shoulder and-boom-just like that...I knew.”

“Knew what?” you asked, half terrified of the answer.

Marcus gave you that smile, that sad little smile he’d been shooting you for weeks, the one that made your heart hurt just to look at and, before he even said anything, you were already shaking your head.

“Don’t make me say it Y/N,” he whispered, “surely by now you know?”

“No.” you said, pulling your hand away and leaning back, “No, you don’t. You can’t, Marcus.”

“Y/N/N-”

“No, you don’t understand,” you insisted, “it’s not possible. You aren’t-you don’t think of me that way. No one does, I’m not like that. I’m not lovable like you are.”

“Like I-?” Marcus started, following you up and sitting gingerly on your bed, “Y/N you’re infinitely lovable.”

“No I’m not!” You asserted, sure that this had to be some sort of trick, some sort of sick joke, “Who could love me? Who could possibly be fucked up and unlucky enough to love me?”

“I could!” Marcus promised, “I do, that’s what I’m saying.”

“Marcus, you’re the only person I’ve ever felt this way about,” you admitted, “please don’t joke.”

His answering smile was gentle and understanding, like he saw the pain you were in, like he understood. You couldn’t hope for this, you had never let yourself believe for even a second that-

“It’s not a joke, Y/N,” he promised, cupping your face in his hands and forcing you to meet his gaze, “I’m just-I’m in love with you. You were wrong, you’ve never been an outsider, you’ve always belonged with me.”

You searched his eyes, his dark, beautiful eyes, for some trace of deceit, some hint that this was too good to be true and that he was waiting to take it away from you, but found none. Maybe he was right, a small, hopeful voice in your mind chimed in, maybe this was how it was supposed to be. Maybe just this once, you didn’t need to be afraid, maybe you could let yourself want this, want him.

Because looking back, it made sense, didn’t it? All those things you’d written off; months of secret smiles and gentle touches, of seeking one another out when you didn’t need to, this was what they were leading up to. As you looked, Marcus blushed, his cheeks flushing a pale shade of pink as you both realised, for the first time, how close you were, how open and vulnerable you were to each other in that moment.

“Y/N/N,” he started softly, “Y/N/N I don’t want to be an asshole or anything but-” he let out a breathy laugh, “but I really want to kiss you right now. Would it be alright if-”

You were kissing him before he could even finish his sentence.

[fatiguing-thoughts]

“New Moon” - Jasper Hale Miniseries: Part 1

As I got ready for bed, I had an eerie feeling. A feeling in the pit of my stomach that I couldn’t shake. I felt like something was wrong, but nothing was wrong. Not one thing was wrong. I just began my sophomore year of university, things were going well. Jasper and I were doing better than ever, but also something was wrong. Something was off, but he wouldn’t tell you what it was exactly. No matter how many times you’d ask, you’d get the same answer. 

 “Nothing important. Don’t worry doll.” 

 Well it was hard to listen to that. As every day passes, he was getting distant. 

 Everything changed when Edward found his mate, Bella. Jasper had something to say from the start, but it was clearly deeper than that. 

 Today he barely answered me again, a pattern for the last week. I feel so horrible, this change in him is killing me. My once sweet, loving, and affectionate boyfriend has barely been around the last four days. I feel so dramatic, but it’s deeper than that. 

 Then I heard it. My phone vibrated on my desk. I hoped it was Jasper as I practically ran to it. 

 “Sorry for not answering all day. I’m on my way to your dorm now.” 

 My heart sank to my stomach. Yes I was happy to see him, but I just knew something was wrong. He never treated me like this. 

 “(Y/N)..” I heard from the corner by my window.

 “Jasper?” I say, almost not believing he was really there. 

 He walks over to me, hugging me. I grabbed him like my life depended on it. My grip was so tight it was hurting me. I didn’t care. I needed my mate here. His ice cold skin felt like home, no matter how sad he was making me. After finally pulling away, I look up at him. His eyes black from probably not eating, his face showed an extreme amount of distress, and just a sad look all together. I was really getting worried.

 “I have to be honest with you.”

 The sound of his voice made my heart flutter, but the words made me sick. I felt like I was going to be sick, I couldn’t help it.

“Please.” I beg him.

“Well, you know Edward has been struggling with Bella. She’s his mate, but he’s unable to handle it. You know, the whole wanting to kill the one you love thing.” His voice trails off.

I just nod and wait for him to keep talking. But, he sits us down on my bed. This can’t be good, sitting me down so I don’t freak out? Get sick? Faint?

“(Y/N), I just want you to know that I tried. I argued, I tried and did what I could. But what I decided is the best option for now. The last thing I wanted to do was hurt you. I really need you to trust me.” He said to me with pleading eyes.

“I trust you, Jasper.” I said with tears starting to run down my cheeks.

“Edward has to leave. He can’t handle it, he thinks it’s too dangerous.” He said calmly.

“What?” I said, knowing where this conversation was going.

“We have to go with him, I didn’t want to. But it’s what we have to do for the safety of all of us. We can’t have her expose us, I can’t let you get hurt. I don’t need the Volturi in our business, especially if it will put you in harm’s way.” He told me.

“Jasper..” I said, reaching my hand out to him. I was barely able to say a word to him, my world was crumbling beneath me.

“You need to stay to finish school. You will see me again, I will be here for you. I will make sure you’re okay. But, I can’t be here with you. We can’t see each other for a while (Y/N). I will be here for your graduation whether this is over or not, because then you can come with us. I’m not letting you leave school behind for this. You need to do this, for yourself, for me, and most importantly-- your family. I can’t ask you, nor will I let you throw this on a back burner. I’m so sorry darling, but this is the only way to make sure you’re safe and fulfilling your life goals. I’m just so sorry it has to be this way.” He said, voice cracking at the end.

“Jasper, you can’t leave me. You can’t!” I said, unable to breathe.

 He held me in his arms, he held me in the only home I needed.

“I’m so very sorry, I am. It just has to be this way for now. I’ll be back with you soon, I just don’t know when. Two years or less, doll.” He said to me, trying to comfort me.

That would still feel like forever without him. Jasper was my air, he kept me afloat when I was sinking. He was saying that like it was an hour. This was a nightmare.

“Jasper, please. Don’t do this to me.” I begged again.

“(Y/N), I have no choice. Your life is worth more than anything to me. I will be back with you soon. I have already fought with my family for days, trying to figure out another way. There just is no other way. It’s temporary…” His voice cracked at the end. I know it hurt him as much as it hurt me, to be without his mate. This was going to be difficult.

“When do you leave?” I ask, voice shaking.

“Tomorrow morning. I’m here to spend the night with you, but then I have to leave.”

Tomorrow? That was too soon, it’s not enough time for a goodbye. It’s never going to be enough time. But then I realized, where the hell was I going to live after the next semester ends? I dormed at my school and on breaks I lived at the Cullen’s home. I had to find somewhere to live, somewhere to move into within the next couple of months.

“You’re gonna miss Christmas with me..” I said, voice giving out on me.

“I’m so sorry.”

He felt my wave of anxiety wash over him, as he rubbed circles into the back of my hand.

“I brought stuff with me. In the backpack there’s enough money for rent, living, and anything else you’ll need. I found you an apartment I thought you’d like, in a safe area. I left some things I want you to keep with you in there, too.” He tells me, motioning to the backpack at the window. I never noticed it when he came in, but that’s probably because I saw him and only him. This room could’ve been on fire and I wouldn’t have noticed.

“Jasper, please.” I said with pleading eyes one more time.

“(Y/N), you know this is what has to be done. Please, can we please have a nice last night together?” He asked me, no begging me.

I nodded and buried my face into his chest. His hands held me close to him, but this would never be close enough. Especially since he was leaving me.

“Can you tell me where you’re going?” I ask, my voice muffled against his body.

“You know I can’t. I’m so sorry to be leaving you in the dark.”

He laid me down in my bed and held me tight. We listened to our favorite music. I touched every inch of his face, his arms, his hands. I wanted to take all of his beauty in before he left me indefinitely with no contact, as if he never existed. I was so sick to my stomach from this situation, but being next to Jasper always made me feel at peace, like things were right in the world. It almost felt like he wasn’t leaving.

I tried so hard not to fall asleep, as I didn’t want to waste any time with the last night with my love. We spent hours just looking at each other, touching each other just to know the other was real. Just to feel that we were still there. Laying on his chest in his arms always made me sleepy, and tonight unfortunately was no exception. I felt groggy and fell asleep in his arms.

          Jasper’s POV

As the sun began to rise, I knew I had to leave. It was a dreadful feeling, but I knew it was something I had to do. I kissed (Y/N)’s forehead and held a piece of her beautiful hair in my hands. I took a polaroid picture of us off her desk and headed towards the window.

“Goodbye Darlin’.” I whispered before I hopped out of her window for the last time in the foreseeable future.

I looked back up at her dorm room window and wanted so badly to just go back in, to just stay, but I couldn’t. All because my brother couldn’t control himself, or even make up his mind. If I could cry, I’d be sobbing by now. Leaving my mate all alone with no warning is breaking me worse than anything else has. I was officially living in a Hell worse than Maria’s twisted entrapment. This blew any previous suffering of mine out of the water. Nothing compared to this pain, and there’s nothing I could do to fix it.

“I’ll see you soon, (Y/N). I promise.” I whisper to the window one last time before running back to my family, leaving my reason for existence behind.

*************

Word Count; 1614 

hello everyone, I wanted to do this for a little while now. I turned it into a miniseries because it ended up being quite lengthy. I hope you all enjoy. 

[ravenforce]

Cheating Death VIII

Warning/s: None

Summary: End of the line for this crazy ride. 

A/N: Thank you so much for sticking with me for this story. I hope you like how this ending. 

Parts: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7

Carol didn’t come home until the sun’s already high in the sky. She can hear the telltale commotion in the living room even before she rounded the corner. When she stood at the doorway, everyone was suited up which makes her wonder why she never received a directive.

“Where are you guys going?” She asked, startling the whole team. When Nat heard her voice, she almost tackled her in the ground.

“Where have you been?” Nat murmured in her hair while she wrapped her arms around the redhead tighter, committing every last detail of Nat and Nat’s hug in her memory.

“I’m sorry I went for a run.”

Everyone knows that it was Carol’s code for when she goes on a quick fly off-world. Sam chuckled, breaking everyone out of their reverie.

“Alright, Cap’s back. Let’s change and head for breakfast, yeah?” He said while walking towards the door. “Meet me at the garage after 15 minutes.”

Everyone nodded their agreement except Carol. “You guys go ahead, I’m gonna catch some sleep,” she said with too much enthusiasm that alerted her girlfriend that something was amiss. Carol knew she didn’t sell it when Nat foregoes breakfast to stay with her. When everyone’s out of the room, Nat watched her like a hawk.

“What’s wrong, Car?”

There’s a worry in her voice that makes Carol’s stomach twist and turn. She walked towards the fridge and popped open one of Bucky’s can of beer. Another sign for Nat to believe something’s about to go down. Carol took a long swig of the beer before delicately putting it down at the marble counter.

“Carol?”

Carol sighed heavily. She went to space to clear her head, to figure out what to do and she did. She swears she has decided but knowing what to do doesn’t always mean it’ll be easier.

“Do you love me, Nat?”

Nat's face fell, her eyebrows knitted together. “What kind of question is that? Of course, I do. I wouldn’t be with you if I don’t.”

“But you weren’t really with me,” Carol whispered, still not looking at the redhead directly. “Not since you found out Y/N’s alive.”

Nat felt a wave of guilt wash over her. “I’m -”

She wanted to apologize. She wanted to tell Carol she’ll make it right, that she’ll do better but Carol cut her off.

“Do you want to be with Y/N?” This time Carol lifted her head to look at Natasha’s green eyes.

There’s a hint of resignation in her voice, Nat noted and it’s making her frantic inside. “I don’t know,” she replied. Carol sensed that Nat has more to say. So, she stayed quiet and waited for Nat to continue. Nat started pacing on the other side of the counter. Nat knows that there’s no use lying to Carol, she also doesn’t want to anymore. “I do, Carol. I want to be with her but I also don’t want to hurt you.”

Carol smiled and gave her a small nod before downing the rest of her beer. She rounded the kitchen counter and stood in front of the redhead. She cupped Nat’s face. “But you already are, and you’re not just hurting me. You’re hurting both of us and yourself.”

“I’m so sorry, Carol.”

“I know,” she said before pulling Nat in another hug. “Me too but you deserve to be with who you want and who makes you truly happy.”

“You made me happy.”

Carol smiled and pulled away. “I know, you made me happy too but you should hurry. You’re running out of time.”

Nat’s confusion is written all over her face. “What do you mean?”

“Y/N’s leaving for good,” Carol clarified watching Nat’s expression turn from confusion to that of panic. Nat would have questioned how she knew this but Carol’s already turning her and pushing her towards the door.

Nat put her foot down even before she could cross the threshold and turned towards Carol and kissed her, one last time. “I need you to know that what we had is real,” Nat almost pleaded. Carol smiled because under the Black Widow’s intimidating demeanour is a soft, kind, and loving Natasha Romanoff.

“I know it’s real, Nat. I don’t doubt it.” Carol turned her on her heel again. “Now, go before you miss her.”

***

After Nat left, Carol stood at the doorway, watching the empty hallway.

“Are you sure that’s the right thing to do?”

Carol startled. She poked her head out to see Agent Hill leaning against the wall with her arms crossed. “Jeez, is it really necessary for you to be as stealthy as Nick?”

Maria chuckled before walking past her to go to the kitchen, completely ignoring the question. Carol followed closely behind.

“So?”

“Yes, and I meant what I said, which you probably heard, since you were clearly eavesdropping,” Carol teased. In the course of her staying on earth, she’s grown really close with the team as well as Agent Hill.

“I was not.” Maria continued to rummage through the fridge.

Carol can hear the smile in her voice. “Anyway, I meant what I said, she deserves to be happy.”

Maria emerged from the fridge empty-handed. “Well, you too. So-” Maria looked uncharacteristically nervous. “Let me take you to breakfast.”

Carol squinted at her brunette friend. “Are you? Are you asking me out on a date?”

Maria laughed, making her started giggling as well. When Maria recovered, she looked at Carol’s beautiful hazel eyes. “Not today, Captain. Today breakfast’s platonic,” Maria teased. “For now.”

Carol almost choked at her own spit before she promptly turned a shade of a tomato. It’s not like she never thought Maria was gorgeous. She just didn’t think she’d ever stand a chance, then again, she dated THE Natasha Romanoff.

“For now,” Carol agreed with a soft smile. Maybe things really do happen for a reason.

***

Your sisters are having breakfast with Meg and Cass who just got back from flying you to Egypt when one of their stationed guards knocked on the dining hall before poking his head in.

“What is it, Max?” Talia asked softly after wiping her mouth with the cloth napkin on her lap.

“Ma’am, Natasha Romanoff is here to see you,” he answered respectfully.

“Send her in.”

Meg and Cass eyed your sisters as they resumed eating their breakfast in silence and with their completely impassive faces intact. For outsiders, your sisters can be downright intimidating without doing anything at all.

“It’s rude to stare, Megan,” Talia admonished lightly.

“I’m -” Megan opted not to finish her sentence but instead avert her eyes and continue stabbing her food. Talia smirked, making Nyssa roll her eyes. Nyssa’s absolutely sure that Talia likes having people on their toes that’s why she keeps the faux stern attitude. Before she can call her sister on it, there’s a faint knock on the door and then Natasha walked into the room.

“Hello,” she greeted almost shyly. “I’m sorry to interrupt your breakfast, again.”

Talia put her utensils down before leaning back on her chair. She’s sitting on the head of the family, making her even look more badass than she already does. “She’s not here, Natasha.”

Nat thank whatever higher power there is in the universe for her training that she’s able to resist the urge to shuffle in front of your sisters. “I know,” she said softly. “I didn’t come here for Y/N. I came here for both of you.”

When no question was forthcoming, Natasha took it as a sign to continue. “Y/N came to space to die to bring me back, I will turn this world upside down to find her but before that, I need your blessing.”

Nyssa’s eyebrow shot to her hairline. “Whatever do you need our blessings for?” She asked confidently.

“When I find her, I intend to ask her to marry me.”

Megan and Cassandra choked on their food and drinks simultaneously. Natasha eyed them for a few seconds to check if they’re alright before turning back her gaze to your sisters. “I lost her a decade ago, I’m not losing her again.”

The silence was deafening. Talia and Nyssa just stared at Natasha for what seems like a lifetime, seemingly trying to look for something before they decide. They both seem to have come to a decision at the same time but Talia spoke first.

“I’m sorry Natasha but we can’t help you. We don’t know where she is,” Talia lied smoothly.

Nat sighed. It’s not like she expected your sisters to cooperate and make things easy for her. At least, they already know the plan; that’s a consolation. “Alright. I should go then, thank you for your time,” Nat said with a polite smile. She turned to leave.

“Wait -”

“What are you doing, Nyssa?” Talia whispered through gritted teeth. Nyssa ignored her in favour of speaking to Natasha.

“She already died for you twice. I’m tired of losing her every time too.” Nyssa smiled sadly. “We love having her here. So please bring her home.”

“I will,” Nat said with a smile. She turned to leave again but this time it was Cass who called for her. When she looked at the raven-haired girl, she yelled, “catch!”

Nat scrambled to catch the item and was surprised to see a key. She looked at Cass in silent question. “Y/N said you know how to fly. I’m sure my father won’t mind if you borrow one of his jets,” Cass beamed.

Nat turned the key over in her hand. Lo and behold, the key is indeed one of Batman’s jet. She looked back at Cass. “Thank you.”

***

You rolled on your back with a groan. When you opened your eyes, a beautiful shade of tangerine bathes your room. Great, you slept the day away, you thought to yourself. You sighed while staring at the flickering shadows on your ceiling. You didn’t come to Egypt to mope. You came to Egypt to move forward, no matter how hard and painful that is. You count up to a hundred before rolling out of bed, you decided you’ll not spend your first night back staring at the ceiling and thinking what could have been if you just stayed. 

You took a cold shower and dressed in a soft shirt, light trousers and a light jacket since it can be chilly at night even in the desert. Your new landlord waved you over when she saw you come out of your rented room.

“Hello,” Rashida - you barely remembered her name since you arrived so early - said with a smile. “Is everything in order in your room?”

You smiled genuinely thinking she can’t be more than a year older than you. “Yes, thank you so much. The welcome basket - with all the fresh pastries - was a saviour.” 

Rashida can tell that you weren’t lying about enjoying the food. “If you like it so much, make sure to wake up on time tomorrow for a complimentary breakfast. I bake all the pastries,” she said with obvious pride. 

“I’m already setting an alarm,” you said while fishing for your phone at your back pocket. Rashida laughed, and you decided you wanted the woman to be your friend. “I’m serious. I am, when was it again?”

“You’re ridiculous. It starts at 7AM. See you?”

“I’ll be the first in the dining hall,” you said smiling while walking to your black 2017 Ford Raptor. You feel a little lighter after making friends with Rashida. You pulled out of the parking lot with no real destination in mind. So you when you stopped the car, you surprised yourself by driving all the way to the pyramids subconsciously. 

The sun was almost kissing the horizon, bathing the sky and everything around you in seemingly varying colours of red, yellow and orange. You looked at the last vestige of tourists leaving the area as it’s soon to close, and then you turned your gaze at the towering structure in front of you. You cast a glamour to shroud you from the naked human eye until you were absolutely sure there’s no living soul left around the area. After all, what you planned to do is highly illegal. 

It took only about a fraction of your semi-immortal life until you’re utterly alone in the desert. You thank whatever power there is in the universe for all the gifts that come with being the heir to the demon, you were able to scale the pyramid without breaking a sweat. The sky has turned from orange to grey, and you can already see the telltale signs of the thousand little stars in the sky.

You took a deep breath before sitting down at the only flat surface in the pyramid that you could find. You opened your backpack and procured an expensive bottle of wine, care of your sisters fully stocked bar. You smiled thinking about how they would react if they find out you helped yourself on their precious stash. You drank a glass for them and Cass and Megan for putting up with your bullshit for the longest time. 

***

You sat there for heaven knows how long, drinking and texting your sisters and your friends. You were relaxed and relatively having a good time, all things considered, that you didn’t hear anyone coming. 

“You know it’s illegal to be up here right?” 

You startled so bad, you knocked the bottle of wine over and spilt the blood-red liquid on the pyramid. For a split second, you made a face at the mess you made before turning to the person who caused you to make the mess in the first place. 

“What are you doing here, Tasha?” Your heart is hammering in your chest, yet your voice is laced with surprise and confusion. “How did you find me?” 

Nat smirked before tossing you a key, which you scrambled to catch without falling to yet another one of your deaths. She chuckled at your unusual display of franticness. You glared at her before turning the key over in your hand. 

Ah, Cassandra Cain, you thought to yourself while she sat down and watched the stars littering the dark Egyptian sky.

“Why are you ticking off items in our bucket list without me?” She asked with a deep frown and a sadness in her voice that’s as clear as the water flowing down the Swiss alps. When you didn’t speak, she glanced at you with unshed tears in her eyes and the sight pulled you down on your knees beside her. 

“I didn’t think I’d still be able to do them with you,” you whispered. “I didn’t think you still want to do them with me, either.” You bit your lips to prevent yourself from sobbing uncontrollably but Nat’s heart broke, all the same, to see you so defeated. The mighty, semi-immortal, heir to the demon, Osiris, down on her knees just because you think she didn’t want you. 

Nat turned her body towards you and reached over to touch your face and make you look at her eyes. “There’s really no one else I want to do them with but you,” she confessed wholeheartedly, making more annoying tears roll down your cheeks. 

“Carol?” You asked between wet hiccups. 

“I love Carol, I do but after all this time - ” Nat paused to scoot closer to you. “-I’m still in love with only you. I thought I lost you forever a decade ago. I don’t want to lose you ever again, Y/N.”

You almost fell off the side of the pyramids when you couldn’t contain any longer and you tackled Natasha in a long, tight hug. Thankfully, Nat’s time in the red room gave her so much control of her extremities. For a moment, you just kept holding each other, making up for the decade you lost. 

“Marry me, Y/N Al Ghul.” 

The declaration made you pull away surprised. You searched her face for any sign of insincerity. “I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Please, say yes,” Nat continued when you just stared at her. 

“Oh! That was a question?” You started grinning at her. “It didn’t sound like a question. I didn’t think I had a choice in the matter.”

Nat rolled her eyes playfully at you. “I take it -”

She wasn’t able to finish her sentence before you crashed your lips together in a passionate kiss that lasted for what seems like an eternity. You were grinning again when you both pulled away for air. “No take backs, never ever,” you said while shaking your head. 

“So, what’s it gonna be, dorkus?” 

It’s your turn to roll your eyes at her. “Yes!”

“Who’s there?” Someone at the foot of the pyramid yelled.

You and Nat scrambled to get away from the edge. You can see a lone flashlight trying to search the edges to see if someone is actually brave enough to scale the pyramid and face the harsh Egyptian punishment for caught offenders. After a minute or two of huddling away from the light, the guard was convinced no one was there and left eventually. Leaving you and Nat giggling like two stupid teenagers. 

“Let’s get out of here before someone comes along and catch us for real,” Nat says offering you a hand. You held her hand for a minute.

“Psh. Catch Osiris and the Black Widow? I’d like to see them try,” you said before teleporting both of you to your car.

[echo-bleu]

let them turn into a river

I've said I wouldn't write any more codas. Yet here I am. This works through some of my thoughts about Alex this season, which may not be everyone's cup of tea.

This also fills two prompts I got: "being given an unexpected hug, and stiffening, then melting into it" by @daffietjuh and "Alex has a breakdown over something mundane like what type of tuna to buy" (I think the original prompt was by @meneatyoghurt, and @rensbaratheon gave it to me).

[PTSD flashbacks, panic attack, mentions of abuse, discussion of possible dub-con (2x06)]

I'm fine. I'm completely fine, Alex repeats to himself as he wanders down the supermarket aisle in search of pasta.

It's not untrue, not exactly. He's certainly functioning a lot better than he was when he first got back from overseas, and his leg is doing rather well these days, even if it's now twinging in pain from the long day he's had. It's just that...he's had nothing but long, exhausting days in what feels like months. It's just that he's really, really tired.

And now he's in the store on a Saturday evening at eleven pm because the really, really nice guy he was hoping to try dating isn't willing to put up with his baggage. Alex can't blame Forrest. He wouldn't put up with it if he had a choice. He spent hours just staring at the bottom of his glass after Forrest left, until Maria slammed a bottle in front of him to get his attention and invited herself to lunch tomorrow.

“It's been a while since we really talked, Alex. I almost feel like you're the one avoiding me now.” The little progress Alex has made−according to his therapist, anyway−on setting his boundaries and asserting what he wants must have evaporated sometime during that night, because he didn't manage to say no.

Which means he needs to figure out what to cook. It's going to have to be meatball pasta, Alex decides. It's the only thing he can think of right now that's suitable for a guest but doesn't require a lot of preparation, and he has no wish to spend hours in the kitchen. He grabs his usual brand of pasta, grateful that he knows where it is by heart, and moves down the aisle to the sauce area.

The whole section of tomato sauce cans stares back at him.

Alex takes a step back to encompass the whole thing with his gaze, curses as the move twists his prosthesis enough for a sharp spike of pain to travel up his leg, and closes his eyes to center himself. Breathe. Everything's fine.

There are cans and boxes and bottles. Tomato sauce and pulp and juice. Several brands of each, with added flavoring and different sizes. How can there be dozens of different options? Alex is just looking for something to put in meatball pasta, it shouldn't be complicated.

He peers at the labels again, trying to wake up his brain enough to decide. But there's prices to think of, and ecology−what's better again, metal cans or cartons?−and so many different types and some of them are written in fucking Italian and he cannot choose. He stays frozen, two feet away from the shelves, vaguely rocking on his heels.

He can't breathe.

He can't breathe and he can't read the labels anymore because everything is suddenly out of focus. Fuck. He blinks, and inspires−and chokes, and wheezes, and shit, this shouldn't be so hard, why is he having a fucking panic attack in the middle of the deserted supermarket at 11 pm?

But he is, and thinking about how this should be simple, and why is he such a failure, is definitely not helping. He reaches out, tries to grab a can at random, and only succeeds in miscalculating and knocking several cans off the shelf. The noise they make hitting the floor is deafening.

Alex flinches, hard, and falls backward when it triggers another spike of pain up his leg and back. He hits the shelves at his back, probably knocking more things over−but he doesn't hear them fall over the buzzing in his ears. He feels the pain, though. The pain and the lack of air and the blackening at the edge of his vision.

Breathe.

He closes his eyes tight, letting himself fall on his ass on the floor and curl up. With his left knee under his chin, his right leg extended, he digs his nails into his palms. I can't do this. I can't.

He can't have Maria over, and pretend everything is fine. He can't talk to her about her relationship with Michael and about his own failed date. He can't look at her and forget about her kissing him, about the mess of limbs and emotions that followed, about how he can't feel anything but disgust toward himself ever since.

He can't.

Today has been a roller-coaster already. The elation he felt at the paintball park is long forgotten, replaced by wave upon wave of shame. At everything, at the mirror of himself he glimpsed in his father's eyes, at the way he froze with Maria, at the uncontrollably fear that gripped his gut when Forrest leaned in for a kiss, when he'd thought−he doesn't know what he'd thought. Only that in that moment, he felt a hand around his neck clearer than he has in months.

He feels it still, as he gasps for air. He spent every second in the hospital, from the moment his father first lost his temper, waiting for the hand to close around him. And yet he couldn't stop himself from catching his dad when he stumbled, even as he expected him to lash out. Why can't he even fucking put a stop to that? Let go of this monster for good, cut him out of his life?

Because he's a coward, that's why. He presses his back into the shelves until it hurts so much he gasps out. Pain. Focus. Breathe.

He's a fucking coward, so of course he's not good enough for someone like Forrest. Just like he'll never be good enough for Michael.

Michael. His mouth on him, again, after months of fantasizing about that. His warmth, his unique scent, his breathing−but they're not alone, and it's too much, too fucking much, that's not what he wants. Alex's skin crawls like that day, and he scrapes his nails at his palms, like he wants to rip it off.

No, no. No. He can't think about that again. He's in the middle of a fucking supermarket, for God's sake! He can't go down that hole.

Get a fucking grip.

Tomato sauce. That's what he needs. Nothing else. He can put everything aside, like how he's going to have to spend hours alone with Maria in his house tomorrow. After being touched by her that way. After watching her touch Michael that way.

He can't even get a handle on his thoughts long enough to remember the tricks his therapist gave him to get out of a panic attack. Counting. Right. One. Two.

No. Counting backward, or in threes, or the brain just takes over. But where to start? Twenty? Is that enough? A hundred? This is too much. How do you count in threes anyway?

Fuck.

Vaguely, he realizes the hand tightening on his throat is his own, his body desperately clawing at itself to breathe. Did his father mix his meds on purpose today? He wouldn't put it past him. But what would his purpose be?

Alex hates it. Being put in this position, the only son in town who is supposed to care for his ailing father. He avoids his childhood home as much as he can, but he's still the contact listed for him at the hospital. He hates watching Jesse Manes struggle to move around and feeling empathy he doesn't want, how somehow this is one more thing that brings them closer instead of separating them. Dammit. His dad in this position because he tried to kill Kyle, after torturing aliens−people−for decades. Alex shouldn't be feeling empathy for this man. He should have watched him fall on his face today, and not even moved a muscle.

Like his father watched him fall too many times after his injury.

Manes men don't show weakness.

Why couldn't he? Why is he such a coward that he can't separate the need to keep his father close, to monitor his actions and find out more about Project Shepard, from his own feelings?

Why can't he let the shadow of his father's abuse behind?

Making out with a hot guy in public is only made hotter when it pisses off all the bigots and the homophobes.

Alex wants to retch in shame.

“Alex!”

Alex can't tell where the voice comes from, but he feels someone coming close and that's what pulls him out of his panic. Reality brutally refocuses. He goes right from foggy, breathless dissociation to cold hypervigilance. He stills, releasing his left leg to be able to use it to swipe at someone's legs, and looks up very slowly.

It's Kyle, crouching down in front of him, frowning in worry. He may have called his name several times already, Alex doesn't know. He's surrounded by fallen cans of tomato, and one of them has burst and send red sauce flying everywhere.

Alex flinches away when Kyle tries to touch him. Breathing burns his lungs, but he forces the air in. Pain doesn't matter. Pain is good, right now, making him focus.

“Alex, what happened?” Kyle asks, like he's speaking to a small child. Or maybe Alex is imagining that. Everything is slow, unreal, his body unfeeling except for the pain.

He tries to make his mouth move to answer, but he can't. He shakes his head in frustration.

“Okay, okay, I won't touch you, alright? It's okay, there's no threat here. Do you know where you are?”

Alex nods, and dips his head, avoiding Kyle's eyes. Coming back to reality just means more shame. He's sitting in the middle of a supermarket, pants stained with tomato, panting and−for God's sake−crying. He's ridiculous.

“Good, you're with me,” Kyle continues. “Was it only a panic attack, or is there something medically wrong with you?”

Alex just stares at him, uncomprehending. He can't put the words together enough to make them make sense.

“Do you need to go to the hospital?” Kyle reformulates.

Alex shakes his head, and wills his hands to stop trembling.

Without taking his eyes off him for more than a second at a time, Kyle starts to pick up the intact cans of tomato off the floor. Giving him space, Alex understands. When he crouches down again, Alex feels stronger, more anchored, even if his whole body feels like cotton candy.

“Think you can get up now?” Kyle asks.

“Yeah,” Alex rasps out. He holds out a hand, though, rather than try to stand up by himself in the mess of tomato sauce. He wouldn't trust his leg with that on a good day.

Kyle scouts over, puts Alex's arm around his shoulders, and hoists him up.

“What about−” Alex gestures to the mess, and his own dropped groceries.

“I'll tell a clerk, it's okay. Let's just get you home, alright?”

“'Kay,” Alex murmurs. He doesn't have the brain space to think about it beyond his embarrassment, anyway.

Kyle lets him lean on him all the way to the checkout counter, and quietly explains what happened to the wide-eyed girl sitting behind it. Alex doesn't listen to her answer, his focus still shot. He stares vaguely at a the packs of gum behind her instead.

“Let's go,” Kyle prompts him to move again.

Alex wants to make it out under his own power, or some variation thereof. He takes his arm back, but he stumbles at the first step, and he has to catch himself roughly on the counter. Rather than make a big deal about it, Kyle simply hooks his arm into his, providing discrete support.

Sometimes Alex wants to hate him for how considerate he is. Right now he doesn't even have it in him to be anything but thankful, though.

The store is just two blocks from Alex's house, so he came here on foot, but there's no way he's making it back. His leg aches something fierce, and his steps are uneven, awkward.

Kyle guides him to his car in the parking lot without a comment, and takes the time to make sure Alex is comfortable in the passenger seat before he drives the thirty seconds to his home. There seems to be no end to Alex's shame tonight, and yet Kyle somehow manages to make it as painless as the situation can be−physically and emotionally. He gets Alex into the most comfortable armchair in his living room, pants and prosthesis off, with minimum fuss and as much privacy as possible.

“Thank you,” Alex murmurs when Kyle finally sits down on the couch across from him.

“I can go, if you tell me you're going to be okay,” Kyle says. “But I can also stay.”

Alex bites his lip. No, he doesn't really want to be left alone with his thoughts. “Not the night,” he says. “But maybe for a minute?” He doesn't like how whiny his voice sounds, but he's exhausted. He curls up in the armchair, propping his right leg on the arm rest and tucking his left foot under him.

“Okay,” Kyle nods, though it's almost midnight. Alex feels bad for asking that of him, but he did offer. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“There isn't much to talk about,” Alex shrugs. “I'm sorry. I was just...tired.”

Kyle raises his eyebrows. “You're allowed not to talk about it, but please don't downplay it, Alex. This wasn't you being tired.”

“No, you're right. This was me freaking out over what tomato sauce to buy. But mostly, it's been a long day. Long week. Long...everything.”

“Your work?” Kyle asks.

“Not really. Not mostly. I've been, uh, taking on side projects, researching Project Shepard and Caulfield, helping you guys. And...my superiors were on base yesterday. My boss. And my boss's boss. And for about half-an-hour, I thought they were here to arrest me.”

“What?”

“It turns out that it was unrelated, but people are asking questions. Not my team, but I'm just a Captain, I still have to answer to people. And recently, I've had to cover up a shit-ton of things. Things that I could be court-martialed for and spend my life in prison several times over. You know this, you did the same.”

“Well, I'm risking my medical license for sure, maybe being sued by the hospital, but probably not jail,” Kyle says. “I didn't...honestly, I don't think any of us realized what you did for us.”

“For them,” Alex corrects him. “You're an outsider to them as much as I am. Tied up by shitty legacies and unwanted feelings for people who don't want us back.”

“You're right,” Kyle sighs. “I told Liz, before the surgery, I told Liz once that was over, I was done. But we all know it's not true.”

Alex gives him a commiserating smile. “In any case, Michael, Max and Isobel risk much worse just by being alive. I'm okay with doing my part. I have to admit that I started seriously questioning that when I learned that Liz decided to go ahead with the heart transplant when she thought you wouldn't be able to keep Max alive, because I had to pull in a lot of favors to get you that theater. That's when people started asking questions.”

“Wait, she didn't tell you beforehand? I thought she told you, or I would have.”

“I don't know if you've noticed, but Liz tends to get tunnel vision,” Alex shrugs. “Rosa told me.”

“Not Michael?”

“Nah, he was wrapped up in his family. We didn't talk.”

“What's going on with you two, anyway?” Kyle asks. “At Caulfield, you were basically flirting the whole way there, and now he's with Maria?”

Alex swallows. “Our...timelines didn't align,” he says. “My family destroyed his. I can't blame him for keeping me at arm's length.”

“That's bullshit, Alex. You're not your family.”

“And yet I brought so much pain into his life,” he sighs.

“So you're just giving up?”

“He's made it clear over and over that I'm not the one he wants. So yeah, I'm giving up.”

Kyle tilts his head. “There's something you're not telling me.”

Fuck. Either Kyle has become even more observant than he was or Alex is still so rattled that he's letting things through. Probably the second option.

Alex ponders it for a moment. He hasn't talked to anyone about that night. He hasn't seen his therapist in months, not since the nightmares and flashbacks Caulfield brought back up abated, and he doesn't exactly have a host of other friends to discuss things with. It's been a weight on his shoulders that doesn't live, that permeates everything. But then...this is Kyle. Is he really someone Alex want to talk about this with?

Actually, yes, he decides. Kyle has something of a unique perspective.

“We had a threesome,” he mutters. It's even more awkward coming out of his mouth than it is when he thinks the word.

“I'm sorry, what did you just say?” Kyle has his mouth hanging open. He's heard perfectly well.

“Michael, Maria and me,” Alex says. “After, uh, Maria and I went to see this boot maker, and he attacked us, stabbed me and went after Maria. She knocked him out and he's in custody,” Alex add hurriedly when he sees Kyle's expression become murderous.

“He stabbed you,” Kyle states.

“Just a little,” Alex shrugs. It's healed just fine, it will probably barely scar. “I'm fine.”

“You got stabbed, and instead of, I don't know, calling me, you had sex with your ex and your best friend. Your female best friend.”

“She initiated it, it's not like we came onto her or anything,” Alex raises his hands.

Kyle blinks. “Yeah, that's not what I'm worried about, Alex.”

“Then what are you worried about?”

Kyle works his jaw several times, trying to find his words. “Let's put it like this. Why are you telling me about it?”

“I...don't know,” Alex shrugs. It weights on his mind, and it needs to get out.

“How did it feel?”

Alex swallows. “Not great. I didn't...I didn't enjoy it. I thought−” he trails off.

“What did you think?” Kyle prompts him.

“We were coming off an adrenaline rush, and being with other people, with them, it felt...safe. I didn't want to leave. When Maria started to−I thought I wanted Michael enough that it would be okay, that I could handle it.”

“'Handle it',” Kyle repeats. “Alex, are you even hearing yourself right now? What would you say if one of your partners said they could 'handle' sex with you?”

“I'd back off right away,” Alex sighs. “But it wasn't like that, we were all consenting.”

“You'd just been attacked. You were injured. I'm assuming you'd been on your leg for a long time. Am I getting the right picture here?”

Alex shrugs. He can't deny it, but it doesn't feel right. Maria and Michael didn't make him have sex with them, he did it of his own free will. Sure, he should have left, but he hasn't been known for making the best decisions for himself, right?

His hands are shaking again.

“I could have left,” he says, his voice trembling. “I didn't want to, but I should have.”

“Okay,” Kyle says, physically backing off. “Don't spiral out again, it's okay.”

“I tried to go on a date, today,” Alex says after a few deep breaths.

“What happened?”

“Nothing. The guy is great. I just...he tried to kiss me, and I couldn't.”

Kyle frowns. “Why−oh, in public?”

“Yeah.”

“Does he know about your father?”

“No,” Alex shrugs. “Does it matter? We all have our bad coming out stories.”

“Your father is a little more than that, Alex,” Kyle raises an eyebrow, like Alex doesn't know that.

“It doesn't change anything. He's not ready to date someone who's not out and proud.”

“Except you are, Alex. You are out and proud. And honestly, with what you've been through, it's amazing how open you are. So maybe you don't wear glitter or dye your hair blue−”

Alex snickers.

“What?”

“Forrest has blue hair,” he says.

“The guy?”

“Yes.”

“Oh. Well, my point stands. You're not in the closet, you just have baggage. Heavy baggage, maybe, but it's not the same.”

Alex tilts his head. Kyle is not wrong, even if he hadn't thought of it that way.

“You think I'd look good in glitter?” he asks, because he needs to stop getting in too deep with his emotions.

“Alex, you'd look good in sack. Glitter, rainbows, crazy hair colors? You'd definitely pull them off. Green would look good on you. Or purple.”

“I think I'll stick to black, thank you,” Alex laughs. “But maybe I'll think of getting my ears pierced again. What about you?”

“What about me?”

“You suddenly seem to be awfully interested in queer fashion.”

Kyle actually blushes. “Um, I...I might have taken to hanging out at Planet 7,” he mumbles.

“You?” Alex asks in shock.

“I wanted to get away from Liz. And anything alien. Actually aliens, I mean. Not that it worked.”

Alex frowns. “Michael was there?”

“No,” Kyle shakes his head. “Not him. Fuck, I shouldn't have told you that.”

It takes Alex a few moments to catch up. “It can't be Max, so...Isobel? Really?”

“I didn't mean to...out her or anything.”

“It's okay, I'm not going to go shout it from the rooftops,” Alex says, because Kyle really looks worried. “Though you should definitely be careful who you tell.”

“I will.”

“What about you?” Alex asks.

“What?”

“Are you trying to tell me you're not as straight as you thought?”

Kyle hides his face in his hands. “I don't know, maybe? I don't...I'm really not sure. I never thought about men that way, but when I see the couples there, or the people who hook up...I don't know.”

“It's okay,” Alex smiles. “It's okay not to know. You don't need to have a word that fits right away.”

“Thanks,” Kyle nods.

“Anytime.”

“I was so horrible to you in high school, this would be a perfect opportunity for payback. Just goes to show what a good man you are.”

All the levity that this conversation has brought Alex goes right down the gutter, leaving him ice cold. “I'm not a good man,” he says through gritted teeth.

“You are. You're a good friend, Alex. A good person. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise.”

Alex sighs and lets it go. It's not a conversation for one in the morning. “You should go home,” he says.

“Are you sure you'll be okay?”

Alex stands up slowly, wishing he had his second crutch for the trip over to his bedroom. “Look, I'll call my therapist, okay? I promise.”

“You do that,” Kyle says, standing up as well. Then, before Alex can completely process it, he opens his arms and closes them around him, careful not to make him lose his balance. Alex stiffens, unused to the contact, but it feels good. Safe. He relaxes slowly, bit by bit, and awkwardly pats Kyle's back with his free hand. “We'll grab a beer sometime this week, okay?”

“Sure,” Alex nods in Kyle's shoulder. “Would be nice.”

“I'll text you tomorrow.”

Kyle lets him go and fishes out his keys from his pocket, turning to leave.

“Hey, Kyle?” Alex calls after him quietly.

“Yes?”

“Thank you for tonight.”

“You're very welcome,” Kyle smiles sweetly.

*

Despite his exhaustion, Alex doesn't fall asleep for hours, and when it does, it's to restless slumber, full of vague nightmares. He drags himself out of bed at nine, two hours past his usual wake-up time, and spends the morning trying to force his aching body into submission with a mix of PT exercises and yoga, that turns too easily into a punishment. A hundred push-ups, for being so weak. The voice in his head is his father's.

As he stares at his counter come eleven, an hour before Maria is supposed to be there, he remembers something. He still doesn't have tomato sauce. Or pasta, for that matter, since he never got to pay for his groceries last night.

“Fuck this,” he murmurs to himself, almost smirking at the joke that is his life. There is nothing he wants less than to spend the day with Maria. He doesn't have anything to cook her, and the Crashdown is closed on Sundays.

No. He's not going to do this.

He eyes his phone, thinking of coming up with some bullshit excuse to Maria. He can think of a dozen that would work well enough off the top of his head, though she's sure to give him hell for it later. At the thought of even seeing her later, Alex grimaces.

No. He sticks his phone in his back pocket and grabs his wallet, his keys and his crutch.

Right before he leaves, on a whim, he grabs a pen and a pad of sticky notes and writes SORRY. HAD SOMETHING TO DO. in capital letters. He sticks the note on his front door and sets the alarm.

Maybe this is his breaking point.

*

Forrest looks truly surprised when Alex shows up on his doorstep. He had to look up the actual address, since Forrest doesn't actually live in the barn where they met, and the Longs have several properties in the same area. He wouldn't want to knock on an random door and run into Wyatt.

“Hi,” Alex says.

“Is that voice in your head already gone?” Forrest asks.

“Not exactly. I just...thought you should hold all the cards.”

Forrest stares at him for a moment, thinking. “Alright,” he says. “Come in, then.”

The house is really more of a cabin, small and wooden all around. The inside is very different from Jim Valenti's cabin, though, and it screams Forrest. It seems this man really is what he shows to the outside, an open book.

The opposite of Alex, in a way.

“Sit down,” Forrest says. “I was just making coffee, you want some?”

“Sure. Black, please.”

Alex sits down on a comfortable couch covered with a patterned comforter while Forrest pours them both mugs in the tiny kitchen area.

“So, what did you want to say?”

Alex takes a deep inspiration. Despite his coming here being a heat of the moment thing, he's tried to practice his words in his car. He's not good with words, but it all comes down to what Kyle said last night.

“You asked me about my PTSD triggers, yesterday,” he says.

“Yes,” Forrest agrees carefully.

“You know, the funny thing is that no one's ever asked me that before. Beside my therapist, I mean. Most of my friends don't know I have PTSD, and the one who does usually doesn't need to ask.”

“Alien guy?” Forrest asks curiously.

“No. My relationship with Michael is more complicated. He has his own issues.”

“Okay. So you want to tell me about your triggers?”

“How they relate to what we talked about,” Alex says. “Being closeted. It's not that I don't want to come out. Sure, I wasn't out in the Air Force during DADT and that was hell, but here...I haven't been in the closet in this town since early high school. Everyone who knows me here knows I'm gay, and I'm fine with that.”

“Then what is it?” Forrest asks.

Alex bites his lip, then takes the plunge. “The last time I really pissed off a homophobe, it didn't end well for the guy I was with.”

“What do you mean? Did you get assaulted?”

“Yeah, you could say that. He went at my...boyfriend's hand with a hammer.”

Forrest covers his mouth with his hand in shock.

“I was seventeen,” Alex continues. “It was my father.”

“Fuck, Alex, I−”

Alex waves it off. “Don't apologize. I just...I wanted you to know. I'm not in the closet. But ever since that day, I haven't been able to be with someone and feel completely safe.”

“Of course,” Forrest murmurs. “Was your father generally abusive? Or did he snap?”

“He didn't start hitting me until he figured out I was gay, but he basically raised us−me and my brothers−as if we were in basic training,” Alex says. “After the...accident, he made me enlist, and I didn't come back to Roswell until a few months ago.”

“That's, wow, that's a lot. I thought my family was bad.”

“There's no comparison to make,” Alex shrugs. “You're brave enough to be proud of who you are in spite of them. I...I'm trying to get there. But it's hard.”

“I get that,” Forrest nods. “I understand it better now. Something didn't quite make sense about you.”

Alex thinks of Michael, of aliens and the secret lab and his classified work. He thinks of his father in the hospital, and being unable to just let him fall. He thinks of last night in the supermarket. “I don't make a lot of sense,” he says. “Which is why I completely get that you don't want to try something with me. I just wanted you to know.”

Forrest pauses and looks him up and down. “You know, maybe...I've put my standards very high, because I've been burned too many times, but so far you met everyone of them easily, except for this one. Maybe it's unrealistic. Maybe I shouldn't let you go, just because you're not quite ready to kiss me in public.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. I like you Alex. I really like you, and I'm guessing the fact that you came all the way out here means you feel the same. So maybe those standards were just me closing myself off from opportunities. Maybe I should give this a chance.”

Alex smiles.

[bakubabes-tatakae]

For The Love Of Humanity’s Strongest (Part Eight)

Author’s Note: If anyone wants to be in a taglist for this feel free to let me know! Happy to do it for anyone!

(Levi Ackerman x Reader)

Summary: When all seems lost Y/N knows that she can count on one person to always be there for her brother, Eren Jaeger, and herself. Can humanity’s strongest not only keep Eren in line, but keep his relationship alive as well?

Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five, Part Six: *NSFW Ahead!*, Part Seven

Part Eight:

Word Count: 2,046

We all gathered around the table, munching on your dinner, attempting to enjoy each other’s company. The squad was clearly still unsure of Eren as their conversation drifted from the recon mission we would all be enduring in a month's time to the fact that they still had no clue how Eren’s powers worked and didn’t trust him. Eld was the first to mention his concerns directly. “Think of how many people lost their lives in the fight to take back Wall Maria. Then hope comes in a form never expected.” He turned his gaze from his cup of tea to Eren. “One that we’re not even entirely sure that we can deal with.”

I was getting awfully tired at the wise cracks from the men of this squad toward my brother. My eyes turned to daggers and I could feel Levi nudge me with his foot, clearly knowing I was about to go off one him.

Eld continued, not even realizing that I had gotten angry. “Most of us still find it hard to believe, so how does it work? This whole changing into a Titan trick. Really.”

Eren was upset about them not trusting him as well, I could hear it in his voice. He didn’t blame them for it tho. “I wish I could tell you, but the fact is my memories are not clear. Guess it’s kind of like being in a trance.” His voice brightened up a little as he tried to explain anything he knew about his powers to them. “I do know that the trigger seems to be hurting myself in some way. Like biting my hand.”

Levi lifted his glass. “You’re not going to get anything out of him.” He took a sip. “Not that you know who won't have a go at it.” I shot him a glance, knowing full well who he was referring too. “You’ll be lucky to come out of it alive if that one lay into you.” He put his glass back down. “Of course, it’s only a matter of time.”

I growled at him. “Will you stop scaring him Levi?”

Eren’s face turned to terror. “Who are you talking about?”

Like she had been paged to the room we heard a loud bang. “OW!” Hange was here, announcing herself without really meaning too. Petra stood and grabbed the piece of wood that had been holding the door shut, allowing Hange to come in. Zoe rubbed her forehead, pain clearly emanating in that spot. “I’m so sorry.” She sauntered in. “Good evening Team Levi!” She raised a hand to us. “How is castle life treating everyone?”

Levi sighed. “You’re too early.”

“Am I? I suppose I couldn’t help myself.” She stood behind me.

Eren looked over at her. “Section Commander Hange?”

“Hello Eren. In the event you haven’t pieced it together yet it’s my job to spearhead the Scout Regiment’s research efforts. Essentially, I poke and prod our captive Titan specimens.” Her face lit up at the mention of her babies. “I’d very much like your help.”

Eren was confused. “My help? In what way? What would I have to do?” He looked at me, a clear look of wondering what to do being offered to me. I smiled at him to try to calm him.

“Join me of course.” Zoe’s face twisted in anticipation. “On a quest of scientific discovery.”

“I’m happy to help, except, I’m afraid it’s not up to me. I'm under close restrictions under order of the higher ups, you see.”

Hange was having none of that. She glanced up at Levi. “Levi, what’s on the docket for him tomorrow?”

Levi scoffed. “Clearing out all the weeds.”

“Excellent then. It’s a plan.” She knelt to him and grabbed his hand, glory shining in her brown eyes. “Young man, tomorrow will be grand.”

Eren looked nervous. “Oh...kay… but, uh, just so I’m clear, what exactly will I be doing?” She squeezed his hand more, causing him to wince a little. “Are you running experiments or something?”

We all looked around at each other, watching the look on Hange’s face. Her excitement was about to get the best of her as we all mumbled under our breath, hoping that Eren would hear it. Oluo grasped his tea cup. “Idiot, shut up.”

I cleared my throat, attempting to get my brother’s attention, mumbling as well. “Stop talking Eren.”

Hange stared longingly toward him. “Ahhh, I knew it, you possess a curious mind, just like your sister.”

We all started standing and walking slowly away from the table. Hange was about to go off on a tangent and none of us wanted to be caught in the crossfire. Levi wrapped his arm around my shoulder and led me toward the door. As we turned to leave I caught eyes with Eren. “Night little brother, good luck.”

Levi led us down the hallway, toward the room we would be staying while in this giant castle. He spoke as we walked. “You really need to cool it when it comes to Eren. I know you’re worried about him, but they’re your squad. You know they won’t do anything to hurt him unless it’s absolutely necessary.”

I sighed. “I know, it’s just hard when I know that they’re all after him. I know they’d all cut him down in two seconds if they had too, but I know that I couldn’t.”

“There’s nothing wrong with that. That’s why the five of us are here. He’s your brother. Not a single one of them expect you to be able to do something like that. You’re the last person in the squad we would expect to lay a hand on him.”

* * * * * *

When we reached our door he moved his arm from my shoulder and opened the door for me. “Ladies first.” He motioned forward.

I entered the room. The stone walls of the castle didn’t let much heat in, the room was like an ice box. We each stripped our jackets off and boots and climbed eagerly into the bed, both exhausted from the events of the day.

The blankets weren’t doing any justice to the cold air that surrounded us so Levi wrapped an arm around me, pulling me as close to him as he could. I could feel his warm breath on my neck. I rolled over to face him and buried my face into his chest, nestling myself between his neck. “Levi?”

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “Yea?”

“Do you think we’ll ever lead a normal life?”

His eyes opened back up, gazing down upon me. “What do you mean by normal?”

“A life where the two of us can finally settle down. It’s been six years since we met Levi, we’ve had anything but a normal life together.” He ran my finger around the material of the shirt on his chest. “I want the normal life, or at least as normal as we’ll ever get. Sure, we have a place together, and that’s normal, but that’s not what I mean.”

“What’s a normal life for someone in the Scouts, Y/n? We barely spend any time at the house we share together.” He kissed the side of my head. “We see each other all the time, but I know what you mean. You mean the nice home life with the kids running around, stay at home mom, dad comes home from work to be greeted with open arms…We’ll never have exactly that.”

“Even just a part of it Levi… any of it.” I could feel a tear slide down my cheeks as I started to think about my mother and father. “I have no one but Eren from my family left levi. I’m never going to be the type that doesn’t want her own family. We always said we’d talk about this farther on down the road, that was years ago now, we’ve never even touched on the subject.”

“Think about our lives Y/n, what aspect of our lives even gives us time for kids? He ran a thumb over my cheek. “I’m not saying I don’t want any, I’m just saying that we have to think about everything when considering it.”

I sighed. “I know. I just… I want that feeling, the feeling of being a mother Levi, someone that will love you unconditionally, you can screw up a thousand times over but the love in their eyes will never change.”

“I’ll make a deal with you…” He was hesitant. “When we have your brother officially in our custody for good, when he’s officially a member of the scouts with no strings attached and we have no one els we have to worry about because we’re obligated too… we’ll at least stop trying to prevent it.”

My eyes lit up some. “You mean it Levi?”

He breathed out heavily. “I don’t mean we’re going to try to have a kid Y/n, we’re just not going to keep the possibility of it from happening anymore.” He closed his eyes as a smile tugged at his lips. “I guess I can’t admit that I wouldn’t mind having that same thing in the future. We’re thirty-two. I guess it’s now or never.”

I could feel the warmth in my cheeks building. “I love you Levi.” I curled myself into his body. “I can’t wait for that day to come, you’ll make the best dad.”

He huffed. “I love you too, Y/n.”

* * * * * *

Sun shone through the windows of the castle the next morning, Levi and I still intertwined together. If the sun hadn’t shone through so brightly we would probably have remained sleeping a lot longer. As I attempted to unwrap myself from him his grip tightened. “No, not yet.”

I laughed. “What do you mean Levi? It’s morning, it’s time to get up.” I tried again, the attempt was futile.

“Just lay here a little longer. I’m sure they’re all just getting up too.” He knew as well as I did that when we were all out together and working the other four people in the squad weren’t able to do anything for themselves, always looking to Levi on what to do next. “They’ll be able to get the day started without me.”

“Sure they will Levi.” I put my hand on his hip and placed my lips on his. “If we're going to lay here a little longer why don’t we make the most of it?”

I could feel Levi smile through the kiss, he pushed me onto my back and kept his lips to mine. “I don’t see why we shouldn’t.” A knock sounded on the door of our room and Levi broke off the kiss, annoyance painted on his face.. “Yea?”

It was Petra, the woman was always right on time to ruin any moment between us that she could. “Sorry sir, I heard you guys talking in here. We’re all up and ready to go, we just need our orders.”

Levi groaned and flopped onto the bed next to me. “I’ll be out in a minute, get everyone in the dining room, I’ll meet you all there.”

“Eren is already there sir, Hange never let him leave last night. He looked pretty exhausted.” She paused. “But I’ll get everyone together Captain.”

When Levi was sure she walked away he spoke. “Every time. Why do we even try to have moments when we’re on missions?”

I raised my eyebrows. “You’re asking me? The girl is in love with you Levi. She has been since the day you asked her to be in the squad.”

He glanced over at me. “Do I sense some jealousy Ms. Jaeger?”

I slapped his gut, sending him sitting up with surprise, but he laughed. “Shut up Ackerman. If anyone is jealous of anyone else it’s her.”

He sat up completely and grabbed his jacket off the chair next to the bed. “You know you have no reason to be, right?”

I brushed my hair back with my fingers. “I know Levi, I never doubt you. I know you better than that.”

Another smile tugged at his lips, turning to a smirk. “Good.” He kissed my forehead and exited the room, leaving me to get ready for the day in peace.

Taglist 💕 @gamegirl23100 @super-peace-fangirl @pjimochi @izzythefanfreak @echimozart @peachymochimochi @hunie-hun @absolute-randomness-forever @omg-lexiiloveyou @dazaismaniaclaugh @renaissance-tragedy @titaniabuck @primusk @always394patronus

[braveclxrke]

What deserves to find you will never be lost

Written for @malexweek 2020.

Day 4 (July 16th) - FREE DAY: 5 times Alex and Michael weren't in a relationship and 1 time they were.

Read the whole fic under the cut or read on Ao3

preview

Alex felt like someone had squeezed his lungs, his mouth falling open for a moment, but no words came out until a second later, "Oh no, no we're…not together, he’s not my boyfriend." Alex rambled, pulling his hands into his lap, trying to somehow move further back against the seat away from Michael.

The waitress gave the pair a nodded and headed off, Alex glanced over at Michael whose face was unreadable, the playful smile completely gone. Alex felt some guilt creep into his chest, settling into the dark corners. Michael pulled his hands back, giving a small sniffle. "Well say hi to Greg for me," Michael said, getting up from the booth and walking away. Alex went to say something as Michael walked away but he didn’t, instead, he slumped back in his seat. Alex hadn’t done anything wrong, deep down he knew that, but for some reason, the guilt remained. He wasn't dating Michael, that was just a fact, he'd just stated a fact. Alex sat there in the cafe, staring at the plate of fries unable to eat them, finding his stomach twisted in more knots than before.

"Good morning," Forrest said, sitting down where Michael had been. Alex didn't miss the lack of breathlessness he experienced in seeing Forrest compared to Michael, feeling the guilt in the dark corner of his heart seeping out more.

preview ends read the whole fic under the cut

1

Alex sits in the Crashdown Cafe, twisting the straw in his milkshake. Alex looked around at everyone just going about their daily life, they had no idea what could have happened to them. A few weeks ago Jesse Manes had nearly blown up half the town at crashcon, only being stopped by Greg, Alex and Michael. After everything that had happened; being kidnapped, losing his father, Alex had decided he was tired of hiding, of living a lie, singing a song about a guy in front of a bunch of cowboys was his a way of starting to live. What Alex hadn't excepted was Forrest coming up to him afterwards, he really thought he'd ruined his chances with him. Kissing Forrest in the Wildpony was something Alex never thought he'd do, kissing any guy in public but he had and Alex felt like a weight had been lifted. After that, they'd started seeing each other, Forrest was something different in Alex's life, removed from all the Alien business and the 'Manes' legacy.

"What you are thinking about?" Alex felt a hand on his shoulder and looked around to see Michael stood there. Alex felt the familiar breathlessness in his lungs, giving Michael a small smile. "How are you?" Michael asked, slipping into the booth, facing across Alex. r

Alex smiled back, "Good," Alex and Michael's relationship had been the best it been in years, they finally seemed to be on the same page, or at least working towards being on the same page. Michael seemed like his younger self in many ways, he was happier, closer with his siblings. The normal anger that was always flickering in his eyes had dimed. "How's Max doing?" He asked.

Michael took in a large breath, running his hand through his hair. "He's doing okay...still getting used to..." Michael trailed off, looking around.

"Mr Jones?" Alex finished. Michael gave a small frown, shaking his head. He'd told Alex many times how stupid he thought the name was. "Any word from Liz?" Alex asked, deep down knowing the answer to the question.

"Nope, radio silence," Michael said, and Alex caught the small hint of bitterness in his voice. While Michael might not admit it, Liz was a friend to him and she'd just taken off, not giving them a goodbye. Alex felt the knot in his stomach as well at her departure. "Pretty sure Max is taking that harder than the clone," Michael tried to joke. "So you seeing Greg today?" Michael asked, reaching over to take one of Alex's fries.

Alex gave a playful tap on Michael's hand, causing Michael to smile while taking another fry. "Yeah, I'mma drive over to my dad’s in a bit," Alex said, feel a slightly nauseous feeling in his abdomen. Today Alex had to clean the remaining stuff in his dad's house.

Michael paused for a moment, leaning closer on the table. "You going to be okay?" He asked, concern in his eyes.

Alex pushed some fries around on his plate, "Yeah, just...just want it over now you know?" Alex confessed.

"You want some help?" Michael asked, taking another fry from Alex’s plate.

Alex waved his hand off to the side, shaking his head and giving a small laugh. "You don't wanna help clean my dad's crap out," Alex said,

"No I don't,” Michael laughed, the small smile dropping a little from his face, "But if it will help you, then, I don’t mind," Michael said, looking down at his hands. Alex gave a small smile, Jesse Manes hadn’t only caused Alex trauma but Michael too and yet Michael was willing to help Alex.

"Can I get you anything?" A waitress said, stopping in front of the boy's table, interrupting Alex before he could reply.

Michael reached over and helped himself to a fry, "No thanks, we're sharing," He said with a playful smile on his face.

"Of are we now?" Alex teased, matching Michael’s playful smile.

Michael slipped the fry into his mouth, "You're not going to eat them all anyway?" Michael said, the smile still on his face. "You never do," Michael finished.

"You are unbelievable," Alex chuckled, leaning forward on the table.

The waitress gave a small laugh, looking over at Alex, "Don't worry, my boyfriend is just the same,"

Alex felt like someone had squeezed his lungs, his mouth falling open for a moment, but no words came out until a second later, "Oh no, no we're…not together, he’s not my boyfriend." Alex rambled, pulling his hands into his lap, trying to somehow move further back against the seat away from Michael.

The waitress gave the pair a nodded and headed off, Alex glanced over at Michael whose face was unreadable, the playful smile completely gone. Alex felt some guilt creep into his chest, settling into the dark corners. Michael pulled his hands back, giving a small sniffle. "Well say hi to Greg for me," Michael said, getting up from the booth and walking away. Alex went to say something as Michael walked away but he didn’t, instead, he slumped back in his seat. Alex hadn’t done anything wrong, deep down he knew that, but for some reason, the guilt remained. He wasn't dating Michael, that was just a fact, he'd just stated a fact. Alex sat there in the cafe, staring at the plate of fries unable to eat them, finding his stomach twisted in more knots than before.

"Good morning," Forrest said, sitting down where Michael had been. Alex didn't miss the lack of breathlessness he experienced in seeing Forrest compared to Michael, feeling the guilt in the dark corner of his heart seeping out more.

2

"Three shots please!” Michael called to Maria over the bar. Maria gave him a brief glare before pulling three shot glasses on the bar and filling them. Michael looked over at Alex who was giving him a small disapproving look. "Oh come on, we made a breakthrough today, we can celebrate," Michael said, holding the shot out in front of Alex, shaking it a little. Today they had finally managed to get some information from Mr Jones, information that could finally help them understand where the aliens had come from and who they really were.

Alex gave a small smile, reaching out and taking the shot, "Fine, just one," He said, holding his finger up. Michael clinked his small glass against Alex’s the pair smiling for a moment, throwing the shots down along with Maria. Michael put the shot down on the table, watching as Alex screwed his face up, "God now I remember why I don't do shots," He coughed.

"So Guerin you forking the bill for this celebration?" Maria asked, moving the shot glasses away. Maria and Michael had managed to remind friends after breaking up, Michael appreciated her and was glad she was still in his life.

"Why you gotta be like that Deluca?" Michael joked.

"Because she's running a business," Alex continued, leaning on the bar. Michael could say the same thing about Alex, after everything that had gone down, their friendship was somehow stronger than ever. The constant heavy tension that use to befall them was no longer there. "Three more Maria," Alex said, placing some money on the table.

"What happened to one more?" Michael said, giving a small laugh.

Alex leaned on the bar, looking at Michael. Michael couldn’t help but smile at how relaxed Alex looked, "You're right, we made progress today, two shots won't hurt," Alex said.

Maria placed the shots on the bar, leaning forward, "Plus Alex is doing another song tonight and is a little nervous," Maria teased, a friendly smile on her face.

Michael pushed himself off the bar, looking at Alex, "You're singing again?"

Alex turned around to Maria, a small pout on his face, "Hey Maria remember when I said I wasn't telling anyone that-"

"It's Michael," Maria said, waving her hand in Michael’s direction.

Alex gave a smile before going to reach the shot when Michael reached over and moved it. "You don't need shots to sing Alex," Michael said, Alex gave a small huff, looking around the bar. Michael stepped closer, placing his hand on Alex’s shoulder. "I heard your last song, you're great," Michael admitted. Alex looked up from the ground at Michael, his eyes wide. They just stood like that for a moment when the announcer called Alex’s name. Alex looked over at the guy and then back at Michael, he could see the nervousness in Alex’s eyes. He gave his shoulder a little squeeze, Alex smiled back and started to walk towards the stage. "We'll keep the shot for after you're back," Maria called, holding it up in the air. Michael leaned against the bar, waiting to hear Alex’s song and feeling his nerves pricking up. Alex got to the stage and sat down on the seat, looking over at Michael for a moment. Michael gave a small nod and smile. Alex seemed to take in a large breath before he starting to play the first note. Michael watched as Alex sang, a song that seemed to be about his childhood.

Michael couldn’t help but smile, entranced by Alex’s performance, he notices that someone came to stand next to him by the bar, some girl he’d seen around the Wildpony before. "Damn, your boyfriend is a great singer," She said.

Michael froze, feeling almost all the warmth drain from his body. Michael shifted uneasily, “Uhh-" He said, clearing his throat when he found it was dry “He’s-he’s not my boyfriend,” Michael said, his voice breathless. Michael looked up and noticed as Forrest walked into the bar, taking a seat in the front row. Michael felt his chest constrict again as he saw the smile appear on Alex’s face as he noticed him. “That would be him,” Michael said, pointing to Forrest.

"Well he’s a lucky guy,” She said, placing her empty glass on the table.

“Yeah, he is,” Michael quietly said, not even sure the girl heard him. Michael turned around to face the bar, going to grab one of the shots when Maria took it from him. Michael went to say something when she reached out, giving his shoulder a little squeeze which she paired with a sympathetic smile. Michael let his head drop for a little moment, turning back around to look at Alex, this wasn't about him, he told himself. To his surprise, Alex's eyes were glanced over at him. Michael stood up straighter giving Alex a smile, Alex returned it, his eyes staying with Michael for a moment and Michael couldn't help noticing that they stayed with Michael for most of the performance.

3

Alex shook his head, placing both hands on the table. "Okay, okay can we tell stories about someone else?" He laughed.

Liz leaned forward across from him, placing her hands on top of his, "Oh come on Alex its cute,"

Alex laughed, giving a mock offended look. "It's not," He said. Alex pulled his hands back and leaned on the table, one of his eyebrows raising up. "How about we tell the story about the first time you drank and threw up in my bed-"

Liz reached up and covered her face, shaking her head. "Oh god," Alex heard her muffle through her hands.

Max put his hand around Liz, looking down at her, "Yeh I think I'd like to hear that one,"

Liz pulled her hands down, holding her hands out. "No, no, no one needs to hear that,"

Michael finished his beer next to Alex, "Oh come on Liz were all friends here," He joked, pointing to Max across from here. Over the last few months, there had been a lot of change in Roswell. Liz was back, after some time away, and some long talks with Max she had agreed to come back to Roswell. Alex was sure there was more too it but didn’t want to push her. The group had spent months looking into Mr Jones and were finally putting that whole ugly mess behind them, being able to use his heart to replace Max’s failing one. Finally, Alex and Forrest. Alex and Forrest had had a good few months together, and Alex meant it, Forrest was kind and reminded Alex of when he was young. However, deep down Alex knew It wasn’t going to last; Forrest had to go back to the city and Alex couldn’t go with him, there were too many important people in Roswell he couldn’t leave.

"Whose round is it?" Liz asked, finishing her own beer.

Max moved out of the booth, stretching a little. "I'll get them, Michael?" Max said.

Michael slides out of the booth, pointing back at Alex and Liz. "I wanna hear that story when I get back Manes," He joked, giving a small wink.

The boys walked over to the bar, chatting and joking, Max giving Michael a little playful shove as Michael clearly teased his brother. "It's nice to see them getting on again," Liz said, watching the boys as well.

"Yeah, it is," Alex smiled, "We have enough going on without the cowboy angst," He teased, Liz laughing.

The pair spoke for a little while longer getting lost in a story when a waitress came up to the table, placing an array of shots on the table. “Here,"

Alex gave a small frown, "Oh we didn't order them-"

The waitress nodded over to Max and Michael who was fussing over drinks at the bar, "Your boyfriends told me to bring them over, they've got the other tray,"

Liz gave a chuckle, "Oh god how much are they ordering,"

The waitress turned around to Alex, nodding her head over at Michael, "Well your boyfriend has a just requested the cocktail menu..." Alex looked over as Michael was studying a cocktail menu at the bar, seemingly reading a list out.

Alex laughed, shaking his head, “Dammit Michael," The waitress placed the finale shot down on the table and walked off. Alex continued to watch Michael explain something to the poor unfortunate bartender who had to serve them, Alex giving a small laugh the whole time. Alex looked up at Liz who was looking at him, her smile wide, "What?" Alex asked.

Liz twisted the straw in her beer, shaking her head, "Nothing just..." She looked up at Alex, tilting her head to the side, "She said boyfriend and you instantly guessed Michael?" She said, "and didn't deny it?" Liz finished, pressing her lips together. Alex looked over at Michael and back to Liz, feeling the heat started to rise in his face.  That didn’t mean anything  Alex told himself, he just didn’t see the point in correcting her, that was all.

Alex watched as Max and Michael walked back over, holding two trays of drinks. Michael sat down next to Alex, and somehow Michael seemed closer this time, their thighs touching. Michael passed the drinks out, turning to look at Alex, his arm stretched out behind the booth, almost resting on Alex’s shoulder. Michael looked over at Alex, a cheeky smile on his smile, "So Manes, spill!" Michael said.

4

Michael and Isabel were at Max’s house, going over some information they had found. Every now and again sharing something important.

“You found anything important?” Isabel asked, looking over a few documents that Alex had given them from some military database he’d hacked.

Michael shook his head, scanning his own piece of paper. “No, just normal genocidal plans concerning aliens,” They were trying to see what information the military already had on them, what information that group still didn’t have.

“Brilliant,” Isabel mocked from the sofa across. On the table in front of Isabel, Michael’s phone rang. Isabel leaned down and took the phone, looking at it for a moment before throwing it over to Michael, “It’s your boyfriend,” she teased.

Michael glared over at his sister before he answered, bringing it up to his face. “You found anything Alex?” Michael said, holding the phone between his shoulder and ear.

“ No, the database is clear, just ordinary military documents,”  Alex said over the phone, sounding tired.

“I suppose that’s a plus,” Michael said, relieved they'd found no more secret government conspiracies.

“What about you?”  Alex asked.

“Well we think we found a subbranch of Project Shepard but we’re not sure,” In the documents they’d found references to Project Shepard, they suspected that some members of Jesse’s Project Shepard had gone rogue and started their own branch. Michael heard Alex cursed on the other end, a prolonged sigh and Michael could practically see Alex, rubbing his forehead. “You okay”? Michael asked.

“Yeah, yeah just, I really thought I’d cleaned this all up you know, that Project Shepard was done,”  Alex said, the disappointment clear in his voice, his voice suddenly sounding older.

Michael leaned forward on his knees a little, now holding the phone to his ear. “This isn’t your fault Alex, you’ve pretty much shut down a whole covert military branch-“

“-Well clearly not all of it,”  Alex said. Michael closed his eyes a little, wishing Alex was here so he could really talk to him. Michael knew how serious Alex took the Project Shepard shut down, trying to destroy everything his father had created.

“We’ll fix it,” Michael assured, “Together,” he finished.

There was silence on the other end for a moment, before Alex spoke,  “I know”  He breathed,  “Let me know if you guys need any help,”  Alex finished.

“Will do,” Michael said, hanging up and placing the phone next to him on the sofa.

“So…?” Isabel said, coming over to sit on the sofa next to Michael.

“So…what?” Michael asked, keeping his eyes on his work.

“How’d you know it was Alex?” Isabel asked. Michael looked up at his sister, who was resting her chin on top of her hands. “I mean I said boyfriend and you didn’t even look at the phone?” She went on, raising her eyebrow at her brother.

Michael shifted in his seat. “Who else would it be Iz?” he defected.

Iz leaned back on the sofa, crossing her arms over her chest. “I’m just saying when I said boyfriend your mind went directly to-“

“Iz,” Was all Michael said, cutting his sister off.

“Look I don’t like to meddle-“, Michael gave a sarcastic laugh, gaining a frown from his sister. “But you told me it wasn’t your guys time yet because Alex was trying something with Forrest and you were working on yourself,” Isabel went on, shuffling a little closer to her brother, trying to catch his eye line. “Well he’s not with Forrest anymore and you’re doing well?” She said like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Michael had said that, and he had meant that, he did believe at some point it would be their time but he didn’t know when that would be and didn’t want to risk trying something and it being the wrong time, there was only so many chances they got. “We’re in the middle of an- “

Isabel threw her hands out to the side, a laugh escaping her lips, “We’re always in the middle of something Michael!” She shook her head, “Do you really wanna wait around till someone else notices him?” The thought made Michael’s stomach churn a little, watching Alex and Forrest had been hard enough. Michael was glad Alex had someone who made him happy, Alex seemed lighter when he was with Forrest but that didn’t stop the pain in Michael’s chest. Isabel was right thought, Alex wasn’t with Forrest anymore, and yet he was still happy, he reminded Michael of 17-year-old Alex; confident and light. Michael looked over at his sister, a sympathetic look still on her face. Maybe it was time to take the leap Michael told himself, feeling a breathlessness in his lungs that was only ever associated with Alex.

5

Alex sat with Greg around his fire pit in the garden, sipping their beers.

“So you heading back tonight?” Alex asked, looking up at the sky.

“Yeah, I gotta be up early for work,” Greg said, he looked over at Alex, “It’s been nice being here though, he sais with a smile.

Alex nodded, “It’s been nice having you around,” he said.

Greg shifted forward on his chair, “Well you’ve still got Flint,” He said. “He seems to be doing better?” It was true, over the last few months Alex and Greg had managed to pull away the aspects of Jesse Manes that remained in Flint.

“Yeah, yeah we’re making progress,” Alex said, they weren't there completely. Flint still didn't completely trust the aliens or even like them, but he wasn't out to murder them which was a start. Flint had agreed to stay in Roswell with Alex for a little while longer, then spend some time with Greg.

“What about you? What’s your plan now?” Greg asked.

It was such a simple question that had such a complicated answer, Alex decided to keep it short and simplistic. “Keep working, try and clean up the military as best I can,”

Greg gave a small laugh, “So keeping it simple,” he joked.

Alex smiled back, “Michael and I are going over some documents tomorrow which might give us some more intel about what we're dealing with,” He said.

Gregory didn't say anything for a moment, playing with his beer label. “He’s…he’s a good guy,” Greg said.

“Yeah Michaels…” Alex started and then stopped, there was so much be could say, so many words that came to his mind, he chooses not to say them, “He’s good,” was all Alex offered.

“Look I don’t wanna pry and I know I’m probably 10 years late to do the whole big brother act but…” Greg trailed off, he shifted in his seat. “I heard your song Alex, what you feel for Michael-“

Alex looked away, “What was a long time ago,” He muttered.

“Was it?” Greg asked. Alex looked over at his brother, Alex wasn't sure what to say but his lack of an answer was enough for Greg. “Because I’ve seen how you guys work together, look at each other, Alex you are so happy around him,” Greg smiled. Alex couldn't deny that being around Michael did make Alex happy, it always had. “I remember coming back home for a visit when I was younger, you were around 17 and you seemed so happy, and I never understood why I mean you lived with dad still..." Alex remembered the week Greg was talking about, just after what had happened in the shed, before everything had fallen apart completely, Greg had stayed at home for a while “It was because of Michael, right?” He asked. Alex didn't have to answer, the look he gave Greg told him he was right.

Alex reached up and ran his hand down his face, “We’ve tried it so many times and it never works out,” he quietly said,

“That’s because you guys weren’t ready, maybe you’re ready now,” Greg assured, "Maybe it's time to meet him in the middle?" Greg said, quoting Alex's song. Greg stood up, placing his beer on the floor, “Good luck little brother, talk to your boyfriend,” he teased like only an older brother could, patting Alex on the shoulder. Alex turned his head to watch as Greg left only to see Michael had pulled up and was walking towards Alex. He passed Greg giving him a small nod.

“Hey,” Michael said, “Greg off?”

“Yeah, he’s driving back,” Alex said as he watched Greg pull out of the drive.

Michael sat down in the chair next to Alex, moving it so it was in front of Alex, “I was going through some files and found this," He held out a piece of paper to Alex, "Looks like some kind of code, though you could take a crack at it tomorrow?" He asked, leaning back in his chair.

"Of course," Alex said, studying the code, having never seen it before.

"I thought you'd say that," Michael said, sitting forward, "So as a thank you, I brought you this," He reached into his pocket and pulled out a brown paper bag folded over, tossing it to Alex.

Alex caught it, giving Michael a hesitant look. Michael just nodded towards the bag. Alex opened it and peered inside, unable to see. Alex reached in and pulled out a triple chocolate cookie, Alex's mouth fell open for a moment. "Is this-"

"The one and only," Michael said with a self-satisfied smile on his face.

Alex could recognise the cookie anywhere. Back when they were kids, next to the Crashdown was a small bakery that made; in Alex's opinion the best cookies. When Alex and Michael could sneak off into the desert in Michael's truck they'd always stop off and buy some for the day. "I thought she closed down?" Alex asked, looking down at the cookie like it was gold.

"She did, she moved across town," Michael said.

Alex looked up, the smile from his face dropping, "You went all the way across town for this?" He asked.

"There your favourites right?" Michael said, smiling. Alex looked back down at the cookie, it was suddenly so much more than a cookie. Alex slipped it back into the bag, placing it on his lap. Michael had driven all the way across town just to get him a cookie he liked, just to make Alex happy. Alex looked back up at Michael who was looking at Alex with an anxious look. "Everything okay?" Michael asked.

Alex grinned, his smile going all the way up to his eyes, "Yeah, yeah everything...great," he admitted.

Michael nodded, standing up in his chair, "Well, I'll leave you to it," Michael went to walk away when Alex called.

"Michael wait!" He said. Michael turned around, taking his hat off to hold it in his hands.  Maybe it was time to meet in the middle  "You wanna stay for a drink?" Alex asked.

Michael appeared to give a breath of relief, sitting back down in the chair. "Yeah sure," he smiled. Alex reached into the bag, breaking the cookie in half, holding out one half to Michael. Michael took it, the smile growing on his face as the boys sat under the growing moonlight, maybe they'd finally come home.

+1

Alex leaned against the bar at planet 7, looking at the sea of people. It was Isabel’s turn to pick where they went out, so here they were. Alex hadn’t really been here much, a few times with Kyle but that was it.

“Whiskey?” Someone said next to Alex. Alex spun around to see a guy stood next to him, leaning against the bar,”

“It’s a celebration,” Alex said, raising his glass a little. It was true, things had been quiet lately, their lives almost seemingly normal.

“I’m Oscar,” The guys said, holding out his hand to shake.

Alex shook it back, looking back across the dancefloor. “Alex,”

The guy turned to face Alex, “Well Alex, I’ve not seen you in here before,” He said, his voice sound flirtatious.

Alex shifted awkwardly on his feet, “Uh no, I’m pretty new to the place,” He admitted.

The guy seemed to step a little closer, “Well how about a tour of the place?” He quietly said.

Alex gave a small awkward laugh. He looked down at his feet and back just in time to see Michael walking over, a large smile on his face. Alex nodded towards Michael, “I think I’ll leave it to my boyfriend,” He said, the smile never leaving his face. The guy gave Alex a polite smile and walked away.

Michael reached Alex, leaning forward to place a kiss on his lips. Alex chased the kiss as Michael pulled apart, “Everything alright?” He asked.

“I think that guy just tried to flirt with me,” Alex admitted, a confused look on his face.

“Of course he did! Have you seen yourself?” Michael flirted, a cheeky grin on his face.

“Smooth,” Alex teased. Michael laughed, reaching out to wrap his hands around Alex’s hips, “You know were dating now, you don’t have to use cheesy pick-up lines,” Alex said, wrapping his own arms around Michael’s neck.

“Cheesy?!” Michael said, pulling back, feigning mock offences. Michael pulled Alex closer a little, his hands resting on his lower bad. “How do you think I got you,” He quietly said.

“Definitely not with those lines?” Alex continued to tease, playing with Michael’s hair a little.

“How then?” Michael asked, tilting his head.

“You want me to make a list?” Alex asked. Michael shook his head, a shy smile on his face. Michael gave Alex another kiss on the lips before pulling back a little. Michael released his hands from Alex’s lower back, taking one of his hands to walk over to the group. Alex reached out and pulled Michael back a little, “Well your kind, generous, a freakin’ genius and beautiful,” He said, Alex smiled as he watched Michael’s face go a little red, looking down to the ground. Alex reached up and placed his hand on Michael’s cheek, “And one of the best people I’ve met,” He said with sincerity.

“That’s a pretty good list,” Michael said, his voice quiet.

“No cheesy lines this time?” Alex asked, tilting his head to the side watching Michael.

Michael laughed, shaking his head no. Michael reached out and draped his arms around Alex’s neck. “You’re not too bad yourself you know?” He said, swaying a little on his feet.

Alex dropped his hand from Michael’s face and wrapped them around his lower back, there positions switching from earlier. “Thanks,” Alex said.

Michael seemed to think for a moment, looking down at the ground. He finally looked back up at Alex, his face looking serious. He swallowed, one corner of his mouth going up into a smile. “And you’ve always believed in me, even when others haven’t,” Michael finished.

Alex smiled like he’d been doing most days since he and Michael got together. Alex leaned forward and kissed Michael, his hands wrapping around Michael a little tighter. Michael replied by pulling Alex’s face forward a little, their kiss deepening as they swayed on the dancefloor. After a moment the boys pulled away, there foreheads leaning against each other.  

“Now that was smooth,” Alex said, giving another quick kiss to Michael's lips.

“Sorry to interrupt sweethearts, but we're getting another round, so if you want some drinks on Valenti…” Isabel called walking past time, pointing to Kyle who was stood at the other bar.

“Apparently Valenti does have his uses,” Michael joked, receiving a disapproving look from Alex. Michael pulled himself off Alex, holding his hands up “Sorry, I’ll try and be nicer to my boyfriend’s friend, even if they're an ass,” He joked, quieting his voice at the end hoping Alex wouldn't hear. Alex smiled, sure he's never getting tired of hearing Michael call Alex his boyfriend. “What?” Michael asked, clearly noticing Alex's smile.

“Nothing, just…” Alex bites the inside of his cheek a little, leaning back against the bar, “If you told 17-year-old Alex that in 10 years he’d be free of his dad, close with his siblings again, happy in himself and Michael Guerin's boyfriend I...” Alex trailed off, looking up from the floor back to Michael's warm eyes. “I don’t think he’d believe it,” Alex admitted.

Michael stepped closer to Alex, taking hands in his, running his thumb over his hands, “Now who’s using cheesy lines,” Michael joked, pulling Alex closer to him. Alex smiled at Michael, feeling a contentedness in his chest that he hadn't felt in years, that only grew when he was near Michael. Alex gave Michael a finale kiss, pulling back to walk over to where the rest of the group were gathered around.

"Hey come to love birds," Liz joked as the pair walked over, Alex could only smile as he realised they'd finally met in the middle, and Michael had come home.

[agl03]

Daisy's behaviour this episode really bothered me. The whole "kill freddy to prevent hydra's foundation" thing, kind of brought back the s5 "kill one persone to save many" debate (like when yoyo killed ruby) but, while back then she was firmly against yoyo actions, she doesn't even esitate now in front of the possibility of killing someone in cold blood. Not to mention that she asked deke to do it, openly against mack's orders and everyone elses opinion. I hope this is addressed at some point

Hey Everyone!

Well.   Daisy was a pretty hot topic after the episode last night so I decided to combine them all into one mega ask response as to not totally spam your dashes more than I already do because many of these questions all pull off of each other.

I was very surprised by Daisy’s actions last night but in retrospect I shouldn’t have when you sit and really look back at her actions.  Her doing something like that in the first few eps of the season is even a given pretty much at this point.  This was a case of me wanting to see evidence for a theory start to show up and instead said theory was pretty much blown to bits.

Where she goes from here is going to come down to what Mack does, IE does he punish her for trying to completely alter the history of the world, bench one of their strongest assets.  Or does he just look the other way like Coulson did for so many years.  Even if Daisy had been Director, killing Freddie was the wrong call.  Even worse was how she tried to make it happen via an inexperienced and confused Deke.

So starting with the OG ask above.  I have struggled with Daisy’s impulsive decisions for the entire series.  It happens every season where she ignores orders, does what she wants, and even betrayed the team.  Those decisions have serious consequences for the team, some worse than others.  Season 5 was one of the worst for me, drove me bonkers with her double standards, with how she treated Fitz and Elena yet talked to Hale about recruiting and training Ruby fresh off Ruby cutting off Elena’s arms, Torturing Talbot, and going for the destroyer machine while torturing Fitzsimmons in the process.  Also had she listened to Fitz about the target in the first place they would have been there long before the Superior was stopping the loop there without losing anyone.

But its never been really formally addressed  by her superiors with the exception of Season 1 when they put that computer blocker on her wrist for Running to the Rising Tide.  Mack needs to do something about it and do something now, before it gets worse.  This was only the first test and she failed.  Disregarding everyone else and history and throwing out the butterfly effect that she saw full force in the Framework with just May’s regret did and AIDA warped it even more.  

Ideally Mack would sit her down, have it out, and pretty much put her on a time out until  he can trust and she can prove she can handle the mission again.  The issue here is with May.....questionable right now though she is in protect my team mode, and I suspect that Elena has lost her powers, Daisy is one of their biggest assets and they will need her in a fight.

Anonymous said:

Who would you see becoming director of shield if Mack dies and knowing that Daisy is clearly not ready? I would have said May but after this episode not anymore and LMD Coulson is happy being a agent and I don’t think he wants to be director again so except Simmons I don’t see anyone being ready to take over if necessary.

I agree that Daisy isn’t remotely close to being ready and I don’t know if they have the real estate to get her there in 11 episodes now.  Not with knowing some of her biggest tests are yet to come (Afterlife).  I mean if the writers really want to get her there they will but its going to take some massive leaps and even will feel unearned to me after how last night went down.

I think we could see May heal and get better as the season progresses.  She’s got a lot to process right now and needs to have Jemma properly look her over and then have it out with who she needs to have it out with over Robo Coulson.  I can see her staying on if Mack falls out of a sense of duty but it would be a band aid kind of thing, only until someone else can be found and vetted.  

I don’t see Fitzsimmons as an option, I’m pretty sure they are out either in another time or just out for their Scottage.

Elena and Deke won’t have enough experience or overall Shield knowledge to do it.

The get rid of the DIrector thing all together and start leading with some sort of Council?

Maria Hill comes in out of freaking no where.

So I’m going to throw out a very very out there option.   Enoch.  Last night he established himself with Koenig, he’s going to be with Shield now as it grows.  I’ll bet that Koenig’s bar is the one above the Playground.  And not only does he have ample knowledge of Shield history but earths history and a lot of the baddies that are lurking out there in the Universe as well.  Because he is a Chronicom he’s calm and level headed....and it would be one heck of a twist there at the end.

Getting long so under the thing.

Anonymous said:

They just completely throw Daisy character development trough the window this episode. Like if they really wanted her to become director at the end of the season they wouldn’t have done that. I feel like she is going to keep going against the other and the mission and she is going to put someone from the team in danger or something

Unpopular opinion here.  No, they didn’t throw away any development with Daisy.  She does something like that every single season.   There is a situation where she doesn’t agree with the higher ups and forges ahead with what she feels is the best coarse of action.  And yes people do get hurt.  

While we are a year removed from the Season 6 finale for the team its like hours.  Hours from she and May going against the others, trusting that Coulson was somewhere in Sarge, and took him right to where he needed to be.  Then he killed May, Elena almost died and has possibly lost her powers, and the evil Zombie Army nearly took over the world.  

Just hours after that she’s ready to totally take out Hydra and do who knows what to the timeline.  Even worse she tried to get Deke to do it by not giving him the whole story.  

I think what scares me and many others is that this was mission one and she was ready to make a tidal wave.   And next time she’s ready to screw history I want to fix this we don’t know who gets caught in the collateral damage.

Anonymous said:

It was unnerving to see Daisy almost make it happen for the Chronicoms just because of her personal issues with Malicks. After all Gideon was the one who brought Hive back and it led to death of Lincoln and Malicks were involved in helping Whitehall which destroyed her family. It was too personal and she doesn’t deal with that well. This is why Mack is the Director.

Yes, Daisy realized in Season 5 that her emotions were getting the better of her and handed it off to Mack.  However, it only works if she follows his orders now that she has.

Yes, Malick hurt Daisy a lot, no question.  But he also did a number of Fitzsimmons with the whole 4722 hours on a deserted hell planet thanks to his monolith then being kidnapped and tortured to force Fitz to take Ward over to pick up Hive, Fitz the sacrifice to him.  Because of Malick Rosalind died and set off that lovely Darth Coulson arc.  May lost Lashdrew.  The team lost Bobbi and Hunter.  So she wasn’t the only one hurt by him but she was the only one who was ready to change history about it.

Anonymous said:

This episode proves that Daisy is still not ready to become director

See Above.

Anonymous said:

Daisy is definitely going to continue to want to do whatever she/they can to stop HYDRA. She’s got a big personal stake there; and I don’t think she cares about their present all that much.

Unfortunately I do agree but its not just Hydra.  We know Afterlife is in play and there is an insanely good chance that they come across her mother there and that is on massive emotional can of worms and one of the biggest temptations to fix.   To try to tell herself that what all would it hurt if I did.......

I do think what will finally stop her is she is going to make too big of a wave and it is going to have some serious repercussions and have major fallout.  Be it we see history changed or someone dies as a result of her actions.  

[set-phasers-to-whump]

do these tacos taste funny to you?

Prompt: drugged

Whumpee: Max Evans

Fandom: Roswell New Mexico

hi welcome to this fic! i will be honest there is not a lot of plot here like you just have to go with it. idk. hope you enjoy this!!

“You’re not working tonight, Evans,” Maria calls at him, the second he walks through the door of the Pony. 

“I know,” he returns, sinking onto a barstool. “Just came for a drink.”

Maria shakes her head. “So you come to the bar where you work. Alone. That’s a little sad, Evans.”

He laughs as she pours him a drink. “Thanks, that’s just what I needed to hear.”

“Anytime,” Maria says, and turns to help a customer. 

Max sips slowly at his drink, looking around the bar. It’s a pretty decent crowd for a Wednesday night, he thinks. He recognizes just about everybody in that crowd, save for the man that’s just walked through the door. He’s dressed in a way that makes it clear he’s not from anywhere near Roswell, and there’s something about him that Max finds unsettling. He shrugs it off, but can’t help tensing up when the man sits down on the stool right next to him.

“Hey,” the man says, and Max gives him a nod. “I heard this place was popular with the locals,” he goes on, as Max says nothing. “I just moved here from New York City, so I thought what the hell, might as well meet my neighbors. I’m Cary,” he adds, extending a hand.

Max takes it reluctantly and doesn’t offer his name. He can’t tell what it is about this guy that’s put him so on edge, but he doesn’t bother to think about it too hard. Gut feelings like this, he’s learned, are rarely wrong, and he’s in no mood for any kind of confrontation. “Excuse me,” he says, shoving himself away from the bar. 

“Sure thing,” Cary says, and offers Max a smile. Max represses a shudder and hurries off to the bathroom. 

He can’t hide in there forever, of course. He thinks for a second about calling Michael or Isobel, and having them come down to see if they feel like anything’s up. He decides against that, though. No need to get them involved in something that’s just a feeling. He makes up his mind to go back out to the bar and give Cary an interrogation of sorts, figure out who he is and what he wants. 

Which would be a fine plan, except for the fact that when he emerges from the bathroom, the man is nowhere to be seen. Max sighs and sinks back down onto his stool, swirling around the remnants of his drink as he waits for Maria to finish talking to someone.

“Did you see where the guy that was sitting next to me went?” he asks, as she refills his drink. “I wanted to talk to him.”

Maria shrugs. “I think he left. What did you want to talk to him about?”

Max shrugs back. He doesn’t really want to go around making unfounded accusations. He takes a large sip of his drink to avoid answering, but Maria just stares at him, waiting for him to say something.

“I just...felt like there was something off about him,” he says, shaking his head. “It’s stupid, I know, but I can’t shake this feeling. I don’t want anyone to get hurt.”

Maria nods in understanding. “Go with the feeling,” she suggests. “Trust your instincts.”

“Thanks,” Max replies, making up his mind then and there to search all over town for Cary if he has to. He gets up from his seat again, but Maria grabs his arm and pulls him back down.

“Slow down,” she warns. “I know you haven’t had much, but you did just finish that drink. Wait fifteen minutes, and I’ll give you these,” she says, holding up the keys he hadn’t even realized she’d taken.

“But-” he protests, and she cuts him off. 

“No buts, Evans. Your guy will still be not here in fifteen minutes.”

Max groans in frustration but relents, resigning himself to staring at the door, just in case Cary comes back in. 

As the minutes pass, Max starts to feel...off. Waves of dizziness and nausea periodically roll through him, and he feels far more tired than he ought to, considering the relatively early hour. He’s about to bring this up to someone when Maria passes him his keys, warning him to be careful with this guy.

He nods, fumbling with the keys for a second, and then stands up, bracing himself on the counter as a particularly strong wave of dizziness hits him. 

“You okay?” Maria asks, but he brushes her off, heading for the door in as straight a line as he can manage. Maybe I should sit down, he thinks, but then he thinks, no, wait, I have to find this guy...what was his name? Cory?

“Cary,” says a voice from next to him, and Max startles, having not realized he was speaking aloud. He whirls around to face the person speaking to him, but the world tilts sideways, and he stumbles, but someone catches him under the arms, then picks him up, which makes his head spin even more, and then everything fades into nothingness.

--

He wakes up and he doesn’t know where he is. His whole body hurts, and he feels like he’s underwater. His head is pounding. 

He forces his eyes to open but he can’t see anything, and then something cylindrical and very hard is smacking into his stomach, and it hurts but he can’t find the strength to scream. The object, whatever it is, hits him again and again, and his whole body is shaking with the pain and his only thought is constant begging: make it stop, please make it stop…

And then it does. Max wonders for a second if he somehow made this attack stop with some kind of previously-undiscovered mind powers, but then he hears something jangling and suddenly there’s what feels like a chain whipping into his back, and he groans softly, the most noise he can make. It hits him again, harder and harder each time, until the pain is a blinding-white cloud surrounding him and he can’t tell which way is up and he feels strangely detached from his own body. And then the white begins to be overtaken with black, and he sinks gratefully into the painless embrace of unconsciousness.

--

He wakes up and he doesn’t know where he is. His whole body hurts, and he feels like he’s underwater. His head is pounding. His back feels like it’s been twisted, like a rag being wrung out, and his stomach feels like it’s been run over, and breathing hurts, and his eyes are closed so he can’t see anything, but he feels the world spinning, and he’s never been this dizzy before. He thinks he might be moving, and he thinks there’s somebody next to him, but everything is so messed up that he doesn’t know for certain. All he knows is that he’s never felt this bad in his whole life, which is saying something. He wants to cry, or maybe scream, but he is far too tired. 

“I think he’s awake,” Max hears someone say, over the constant pounding in his brain. “Max?”

Isobel. He blinks his eyes open slowly, gazing blearily around the blessedly-familiar environment of Michael’s truck until he sees her. 

“Hi,” she says. “How do you feel?”

He closes his eyes again. “Bad,” he manages to whisper. 

“No shit,” says Michael’s voice from next to Isobel. “Anything else?”

“Dizzy,” Max says. He doesn’t know how to encapsulate the sheer volume of pain that his body is in, so he settles for saying, “hurts,” and hopes that his siblings understand.

“We know,” Isobel says, sympathetically. “Just hold on, we’ll be there in a minute. You’ll be okay.”

Max doubts that. He wonders for a second where it is they’re going, but decides it’s not worth asking. 

“Isn’t there any acetone in here?” Isobel asks, and Max hears her rummaging around.

“Dunno,” he replies, wishing that he could fall asleep again.

“She wasn’t talking to you,” Michael says, and Max hears a soft thwack. “He’s on drugs, Michael, cut him some slack,” Isobel says. 

Drugs? Max wonders. Makes sense, he decides. A particularly nasty throb from his aching back makes him lose track of the conversation for a minute, and when he manages to focus again, Michael is defending himself against Isobel.

“I’m sorry there’s none in here, okay, Iz? But it might not be the best idea, anyway, We don’t know-”

Max interrupts. “What’s not the best idea?” he asks, the words slurring into one mess.

“The acetone, because…” Whatever Michael might have been saying is lost as another wave of dizziness envelops Max, and he can feel himself spinning though he knows he’s not actually spinning, and before he has time to stop it, he’s throwing up, not even able to bend over because of the pain in his stomach and back. 

“Because we don’t know how it’ll react with the drugs in his stomach,” Michael finishes, as Isobel makes a faintly disgusted noise. Max feels her hand hover next to his face, not touching him, like she’s worried she’ll only hurt him more.

Throwing up had really not felt so good on his battered body, and Max yet again loses himself in a haze of pain, feeling tears start to drip down his face for the first time. Everything hurts so much, and he just wants it all to stop, and the world is a jumbled mess of pain and motion and noise, and then he finally passes out. 

--

The next time he wakes up, he finally knows where he is, immediately: at home, in his bed. Everything hurts, and he’s groggy, but he’s not excruciatingly dizzy or exhausted. He takes stock of himself, trying to remember what he’d been doing before he’d woken up. Vague flashes of the Pony and Michael’s truck come to mind, but he knows he’s missing time. His head is aching and there’s something wrapped around his torso, which unfortunately doesn’t feel like it’s doing anything for the pain of what seems to be one absolutely massive bruise.

Following this, Max takes stock of his surroundings. Warm sunlight is peeking through the window, and he remembers, for a split second, darkness and pain and complete disorientation. But the image fades, and he gives his achy head a shake to clear it as he continues looking around. There’s a glass of water on his bedside table, and a second, smaller glass of acetone beside it, with a note on it warning him not to drink it too quickly. He obeys the note, which is in Isobel’s handwriting, taking small sips of the acetone, feeling it slowly seep into his bones, lessening the pain marginally. 

When he finishes it, he becomes aware of the fact that he’s still tired. A large part of him doesn’t want to go back to sleep - he can barely remember anything, doesn’t know why he’s hurting or who hurt him or how he got here. But then he hears something from the living room. He panics for a second before recognizing Michael’s voice, and then Isobel’s, and he can’t help but smile as he lets his eyes close. They’re here, which means he’s safe, and everything’s going to be okay. He falls back asleep, trusting that the next time he wakes up, he’ll still be right where he is.

hi i don’t like this very much but oh well!!! hope maybe you liked it? in case you were wondering the drug he was given was rohypnol, not very creative of me i know but what can ya do. it’s easy you know? anyway don’t ask me what cary wanted or where he went because idk lol. thanks very much for reading!!

[spaceskam]

you matter to me

Another addition to my fwb universe, dedicated to @christchex and an anon who kept me company all day yesterday. Special thanks to @callieramics for the idea of Liz being the meddler this time :)

“Alex, have you heard from Michael?”

Alex raised an eyebrow at Liz’s question. He actually hadn’t, but they usually didn’t talk about Michael. He looked over at his phone just to double-check that Michael had indeed not responded to any of his messages. While it was sort of uncharacteristic, Alex had assumed he had gotten sucked into studying for the physics test he had on Monday.

“No, why?” he said.

“He called into work today,” Liz said, “He never calls into work.” 

“What the fuck do you want me to do? I’m not his keeper,” Alex scoffed, but he very much wanted to find out what was going on. She was right, Michael was pretty on top of everything. He always found time for things, including Alex. Him going MIA didn’t really make sense.

“I don’t know, he came here when you were upset, I assumed you would go to him when he was upset,” Liz explained. Alex stared at her for a moment. Part of him wanted to deny her statement and bitch at her for it. After Michael had come that night, Maria and Liz had just collectively decided they were dating and they wouldn’t back off. Alex was brewing some type of way to fix it and make it stop because it was annoying. The whole point of not having a boyfriend was so he wouldn’t have to deal with them constantly talking about it.

That backfired.

However, she did have a point. He and Michael were best friends, Michael deserved Alex at least looking in to see if he was alright. But he didn’t need Liz or Maria to know that. So, he rolled his eyes.

Besides, Michael seemed to sense this conversation and shoot him a text.

Michael: come over

“What don’t you get about us not dating? He’s not my property, not my responsibility,” Alex scoffed, grabbing his keys off the counter, “Gonna go practice.”

“Alex, I didn’t mean to‒”

“It’s fine,” he said. He needed to fix whatever they thought.

But, first, he needed to go see Michael.

Alex: be right there

-

“This is a bad time.”

Alex cocked his head to the side at Isobel’s statement. It was never a bad time to go see Michael Guerin. That was sort of the point of having a friend with benefits. All times were good times, even if it was just for the friend part. And Michael had texted him so it absolutely wasn’t a bad time.

“Why?” Alex prodded. Isobel didn’t move out of the way.

“Because it’s a bad time.”

Alex stared at her for a moment and decided that something was actually wrong. Michael had gone to him when something was wrong even when no one asked.

“Hey, Michael!” Alex called loudly. Isobel stared at him like he’d lost it and tried to push on his chest, but wasn’t really successful since Michael came out of his room. The real twist was that he looked perfectly fine.

“Alex, hey,” he said with that same boyish smile on his face, trotting towards the door, “Izzy, let him in.”

Reluctantly, Isobel let him in and Michael basically dragged Alex to his room. He looked find. He sounded fine. His room looked fine.

“Are you good?” Alex asked for good measure once they were alone. Michael smiled and kissed him, not really giving much room to actually answer. Alex kissed him back, but still tried to look around the room.

Michael moved fast, kissing down his neck and pawing at his clothes. Alex let him and tried to find what was wrong. Because something was wrong.

“Liz said you called into work,” Alex mention, his hand softly cradling the back of Michael’s head. He didn’t respond, pushing them onto the bed. Michael’s kisses stayed fast and sloppy‒actually all of his movements were fast and sloppy. It felt like a massive red flag.

Alex tried to set a different pace, but Michael wasn’t really abiding by it. He was trying to strip himself and Alex and still kiss and touch all at once. It was a mess that did nothing but get Michael's shirt around his neck and one arm and Alex's jeans unzipped but not unbuttoned. Alex grabbed his face, making him stop. That’s when he saw the slightly manic look in his eyes.

“What?” Michael asked or, really, snapped. Alex furrowed his eyebrows. “Why are you stopping me? I need this. I texted you. I need this.”

Alex scoffed and shook his head. “What is wrong with you? What happened?”

“Nothing, okay? Will you just let me‒”

“No,” Alex stopped him, sitting up and forcing Michael to get off. He looked more than a little wounded but covered it up with a glare. “What is wrong with you?”

“Nothing, for fuck’s sake, you're not my dad,” Michael spat. Some deep, angry part of Alex considered saying 'yeah, you don’t have one’, but immediately felt guilty about it. He stared at Michael.

“You’re acting weird. You literally never act like that,” Alex pointed out. Michael rolled his eyes and groaned.

“Like what? Like I want to have sex with you? Literally, that’s why I texted you. You’re a booty call, Alex, that’s what this was supposed to be. Why’d you even come if you’re just gonna psychoanalyze me instead of just giving me what I want?” Michael snapped which told Alex without a doubt that something was very, very wrong. That wasn’t Michael.

Alex stood up and looked around the room, looking for anything that was out of place.

“What are you doing?” Michael demanded. Alex ignored him.

Alex opened the drawer of his nightstand and didn’t see anything weird, so he moved onto the dresser. Michael sat up attentively. He opened the top drawer and shuffled around, ignoring Michael telling him to stop. Beneath the sea of mix-matched socks, he found an opened envelope.

“Alex, fucking stop!” Michael said. He was beside him in seconds, trying to take the envelope. Alex pushed him off, but still fought over the envelope like children, like Alex had fought over toys with his brothers.

Alex learned very early how to win.

“Alex, please,” Michael said desperately as Alex pinned him to the dresser with his hip and his arm around his neck in the world’s loosest headlock.

The cover of the envelope read RETURN TO SENDER in big red letters over the handwritten name and address. Michael had sent a letter to some guy named Dr. Carl Kosh Sr. who lived in Odessa, Texas. Alex flipped open the flap that had been taped down and reopened, pulling out the letter from inside. It didn’t take him long to realize it was Michael sending a letter to the guy to say that he was his father. And that his father had simply added 'leave me alone' to the bottom of the letter and sent it back.

By the time that Alex figured all that out, Michael was limp in his grasp and crying.

“Why didn’t you just tell me?” Alex asked, putting the letter on the desk and wrapping both his arms completely around him from behind. Michael was almost dead weight at that point.

"I don't know," Michael whispered, voice cracking weakly.

But Alex knew. He'd been on his ass about them just being fuck buddies recently, trying to go back to before the lines started blurring. As much as he was thankful for Michael taking care of him when he was sick and being there for him after his father, it was too much. They weren't boyfriends. He didn't want a boyfriend. He wanted someone who was just there when needed but wasn't overwhelming with relationship shit.

And apparently that told Michael that sex was the only comfort he was allowed.

"I didn't know you found your dad," Alex whispered, slowly rubbing his chest, "I didn't know you were looking."

"I didn't tell anyone except Izzy," he admitted. Alex hugged him close and started to lead him to the bed. "I didn't want anyone to know until I knew if he wanted to meet me."

"It's okay," Alex promised, tugging him into bed. Michael laid on his chest and Alex held him. He ignored the red flags in his mind. Those could be addressed tomorrow.

"I don't know why I looked for him," Michael cried, face hidden in Alex's shoulder, "Guess I thought that maybe he didn't know. I don't know why my parents gave me up, I just hoped maybe he would've wanted me if he knew. I did one of those stupid DNA test things and they brought me to his family tree and, and him. I just… I thought…"

Alex shushed him as he started crying harder. He didn't know how to fix this. There wasn't any fixing this. He couldn't heal wounds that had been there since he was born. All he could do was be there.

"He has kids, Alex," he sobbed. Alex held him tighter. "Why doesn't he want me?"

"Hey, hey, don't think like that," Alex whispered, bowed his face into Michael's hair. He did his best to curl around him, trying to give him as much comfort as possible. He pulled the blanket over them. "Fuck him. He's not worth it."

"He's my dad," Michael said.

"No, he's some guy who had sex with some girl who gave birth to you. They aren't your parents, they aren't your family. Isobel and Max are your family," Alex said, gently grabbing Michael's jaw so he'd look up at him, "I'm your family."

Michael stared at him with big, watery eyes. Alex's heart was beating to an off kilter rhythm. He was fucked. So, so fucked.

"You mean it?" he asked gently, his fingertips sliding beneath Alex's shirt innocently. He just wanted skin on skin.

"I mean it," Alex said sincerely, "Fuck him. It doesn't matter if he doesn't want you. We do, we all do. I know that might not help completely, but I hope you realize that you are so loved, Michael. So many people love you. That guy doesn't matter."

"I love you," Michael said, not even once breaking eye contact. Alex gulped and took a deep breath. Fuck. This was so fucked. He was too deep. This was what they were not supposed to do. Hell, Michael was the one that made the rule of them not ever falling in love.

How the hell did he get out of this without creating a mess?

"It's okay," Alex said instead, bringing his head into his chest. Michael clutched onto him, thankfully not seeming too hurt by Alex's dismissal.

This wasn't okay. He shouldn't have come. He needed to stop.

"I've got you," Alex whispered, running his hands through Michael's hair as he cradled him close.

This was a disaster. He was going to get hurt. They both were. There was no good way to end this. There was no good direction to follow. There was only down.

Alex held him all night instead.

[bestillmyslashyheart]

late night

Maria paused outside the door and fixed her dress. The heels were a bit higher than she normally would’ve worn, the dress a bit tighter, her hair and makeup a bit more done. Normally, she wouldn’t have put in the extra effort for what someone who’d seen her at her worst but she felt like he, like they deserved it. They deserved to start this thing off right with the utmost effort. 

She double checked that there were no other cars around and knocked firmly on the battered metal door. It echoed loudly in the silent scrapyard. There was no response and Maria glanced over her shoulder at Michael’s truck before knocking again. He was home and, for once, alone. It was the perfect opportunity.

Maria and Michael and Alex had been in a strange holding pattern for over a month now, Michael floundering in the sudden disappearance of his brother and burying himself in alcohol and anonymous sex while Maria and Alex danced around the subject, and the man in question, whenever the issue looked like it might arise. But Max was back from his mysterious sojourn and Michael was getting his feet back under him again and Alex had been drifting further and further away from everyone and Maria knew this was her chance. She and Michael could finally move forward and try to make something real out of their feelings for each other. 

She raised her hand to knock a third time just as the door opened. Normally, Michael swung the door wide without a care for the state of it or the side of the trailer but tonight he eased it open gently, as if trying to be quiet.

He was shirtless and, Maria glanced down quickly, pantless as well. Only a thin sheet, the top sheet of his bunk, was wrapped around his waist. 

“Maria,” he blinked at her.

“Hey,” she greeted softly. “I know it’s late and I’m sorry for waking you up. I just couldn’t wait any longer. I’ve been thinking about us lately and everything that’s been going on and I think it’s time we-” she slowed to a stop as she finally glanced behind him and saw the scattered clothes littering the ground. His hat, usually treated with the utmost care, was tossed haphazardly over the corner of a cabinet. She turned slightly to check the lot again but there were still no cars other than hers and Michael’s. “Sorry, am I interrupting?” She shook her head and shifted her feet. She’d been prepared to put herself out there tonight, she hadn’t been prepared to humiliate herself in front of his latest one night stand. Michael usually picked up his company for the night at the Wild Pony but he hadn’t been in so she’d assumed it was safe to come over. Evidently she was wrong.

Michael glanced over his shoulder and towards the bunk, a soft expression on his face that she didn’t recognize. “Maria…” he started.

She waved him off. “I should have called, I guess. I can go and we can talk about this tomorrow?” He glanced away and so did she. Her gaze settled on the clothes behind him, unwilling to meet his eyes as he prepared to let her down easy. She knew the signs and she knew this conversation wasn’t going to end like she’d hoped.

He said her name again but she didn’t hear him.

On the ground behind him was a leather jacket. A very familiar leather jacket. 

Maria stepped to the side and craned her neck to see further into the trailer and froze at the sight of the prosthetic leg leaning carefully against the cabinet. 

She took a step back. “How long?”

Michael sighed. “About three hours?” He twisted his wrist to check his nonexistent watch.

“I was too late.”

“Yes and no,” Michael told her. “If you’d come over last night, I’m not sure what would have happened, if I’m honest. I care about you Maria, I do.”

“But not like you care about Alex,” she finished for him. She took another step back.

“I love him.”

“So if I was here last night…”

“I might have thought we could give it a try,” Michael told her honestly. “And I don’t think it would’ve worked out and I think everyone would’ve just gotten hurt.” As opposed to just her, he didn’t say.

“Right,” she nodded sharply. “Well. I should go. Let’s uh, let’s forget this happened, yeah?” She turned away. Two steps later she turned back. “Can you, uh, not tell Alex I was here? He won. There’s no point telling him I showed up at your doorstep like this.”

Michael looked over his shoulder briefly. “Okay,” he agreed softly, his voice carrying easily across the empty space between them.

“Thank you,” she nodded again. “Good night, Michael.” It felt like goodbye.

“Good night, Maria.” His voice was kind but it was most definitely a goodbye. 

-

Michael watched Maria get in her truck and drive away before easing the door closed as softly as he could.

“Do you realize this trailer is smaller than my bedroom?” Michael winced and turned to face the bed. Alex hadn’t moved from where he’d left him except to turn his head. He hadn’t even opened his eyes.

“Maybe don’t mention that to Maria?” He dropped the sheet along the end of the bed as he slid back in next to Alex. 

Alex hummed and shifted to let him get comfortable. “Would you have started something with her if she was here yesterday? Does one day really make that much of a difference?”

“Well, yesterday I hadn’t quite gotten it through my head that you and I could have something. I don’t know what I would have done if she’d shown up but I don’t think I would have turned her away immediately,” Michael answered honestly. “There probably would’ve been a long conversation, at the very least.”

“Your favorite,” Alex teased lightly. 

Michael pressed a kiss to Alex’s shoulder. “I’m better at it than you.”

“You are,” Alex opened his eyes and looked at him. “I’m trying to do better but you are probably always going to be better talking about things than I am.”

“That’s okay,” Michael kissed his collarbone this time. “Just try. That’s all I need. Don’t bottle things up and don’t assume I can read your mind because I can’t. Not even if I tap into those powers.”

“I promise,” Alex put a finger under Michael’s chin to tilt his head up enough for him to kiss him.

“I love you,” Michael whispered between their lips.

Alex beamed. “Love you too.”

[zarcake-writes]

Maria

This is a kind of sad story. It features a female spirit that haunts part of a freeway and the human woman she falls in love with. 

Warnings: mention of death, attempted kidnapping, car crash, a subtle reference to homophobia

There’s a stretch of freeway near my house that is haunted. I think the spirit is a banshee. If she is a banshee, I’m not sure how she got here. Maybe she followed someone from Ireland and is now stuck on a new continent, lost and far from home. Is that even possible?  

Another possibility is that she’s La Llorona, crying for the children she killed, wailing and begging for them to come back. This would make more sense since Mexico is closer than Ireland. But there's no riverbed near the freeway. Well, at least none that I’m aware of.

If I’m being honest, both of these options’ kind of freak me out. Banshees always seemed so far away, but the idea of one literally being down the road from me is incredibly unsettling. And I grew up on stories of La Llorona. She’s not something I want to think about.

In the mornings when I drive to school, I hear her sometimes. The only way to drown out her wails is to turn up the radio. This repeats on my way home in the evenings. She appears to be more active at night or early mornings.

The first time I feel her presence, it terrifies me. I’m driving down when I feel something in the car with me. The hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. Cold breath lands on the back of my neck, sending shivers down my spine. I grip my steering wheel until my knuckles are white. I don't dare look in any of my mirrors, I'm too scared.

While her presence doesn’t feel evil, I’m hit with a wave of depression and pain. The sudden change in emotions leaves me gasping for air and gripping my steering wheel for life. By the time I get off the freeway, I’m in tears. I’m sobbing so hard I’m out of breath and hiccupping. While her presence vanishes when I get off the freeway, these feelings linger for the rest of the day. The pain she feels, I can’t forget it. I spend the rest of the night beneath my blankets crying and clinging to a stuffed animal.

Everyone knows about her; the spirit that haunts a section of the 405 freeway. Many people get off before they come to her stretch of the freeway. I guess they prefer taking side streets and falling behind schedule rather than risk encountering the spirit. Others just speed up and hope they don’t encounter her.

Some people refuse to talk about her, and if they hear someone mentioning the strange wailing, they’ll look away. Most of the time, people play dumb and claim they heard nothing. Others say it’s just the wind or the car making funny sounds. But everyone has that same unsettled look in their eyes.

Despite the reluctance to speak openly about her, there are many rumors about the spirit. Some claim the wailing woman was killed on the freeway in a bad accident. Others say she’s a murder victim whose body was abandoned on the side of the freeway in a suitcase. They always embellish and say no one discovered the body for several weeks. These people are always overly descriptive when it comes to what her body supposedly looked like when it was found.

While everyone seems to have heard her, only a few people claim to have seen her. One lady I met, an elderly woman, said the spirit is evil and will chase you. She claims it happened to her, but I doubt the validity of her story. A cop once told me in a bar that he saw a woman walking down the side of the freeway one night. He pulled over and approached her, thinking she was hurt. He said she turned to him and just vanished. He was a bit buzzed, so I wonder how truthful his story is.

It never crossed my mind to wonder if she was good or evil. I knew she was sad and in pain, but I assumed she was just a remnant of something terrible that happened. Just an echo of some terrible crime that happened long ago.

I discover the type of spirit she is one night.

Finals are fast approaching, so my nights have been spent mostly in my university’s library studying and working on essays. While the campus is usually very safe, tonight was the exception. I was being followed and I didn’t notice it until I got on the freeway.

The car behind me turns on their brights and they speed up. They are so close to my rear bumper, and the reflection of their brights in my rearview mirror is nearly blinding. When they start honking behind me, I switch lanes and hope they speed past me.

I can feel my heart sink and stomach twist when they change lanes with me. The front of their car bumps my rear bumper, jolting my car slightly. In a panic, I speed up in an attempt to put some distance between us. But they stay on me.

I reach for my phone and dial 911. As I frantically speak to the operator, telling them where I am and what’s happening, making sure to say it’s just our two cars on the freeway, the car chasing me slams on their breaks. I watch in my rearview mirror as they swerve all over the road. I gasp when their car goes off the side and crashes nose-first into the ditch on the right side of the freeway.

I pull over and tell the operator what happened. A few minutes later, the emergency vehicles arrive. A cop takes me to the side and starts speaking with me. In the distance, I see my pursuers being taken from the car and put on stretchers. The ambulances take them away. I go home in a daze, not fully understanding what happened.

It isn’t until a week or so later that I hear from the cop in charge of the case. He tells me I got lucky because those men have kidnapped women before. I was to be their next victim. Them chasing me and trying to hit my car was a game to them. I feel sick. But it isn’t until he’s leaving that he says something that confuses me.

“Good thing you have a friend on the other side,” he said.

“What?”

He looks at me, a sheepish look on his face. “Look, everyone knows the rumors about that stretch of the freeway. And those men said they lost control because they saw… her.”

“Her?”

“Yeah, you know, her.”

“And you believe them?”

“I don’t know. But they said she appeared in the back of their car, screaming.”

Ever since that day, I wonder more about the spirit. There are many videos on the internet of supposed ghost hunters and teenagers parking on the side of the freeway attempting to speak with her. Some used Ouija boards, while others just shouted at her. Nothing ever seemed to happen, just a bunch of kids scaring themselves.

I wonder if she did die on that part of the freeway, so I started doing research. However, I could find nothing. Yes, there have been many accidents and deaths on that freeway, but no women died on that stretch. And the rumor that a body was left undiscovered in a suitcase seemed just like that, a rumor.

This wailing spirit wouldn’t leave my mind. I want, no, need to know who she was, what she is, and why she helped me. My curiosity got the best of me, so one night, I go to see if I can find her.

It’s the weekend when I make my way to her stretch of the freeway. I pull off to the side of the road, right where the men who were chasing me crashed. Leaving my hazards on, I get out of the car.

A few cars drive past me, going no less than 80mph. Other than that, the night is quiet. The bright white lights on the freeway illuminate the road. Along the side of the freeway I’m on, there is nothing but a large, dark empty field. It’s unsettling how dark and empty it is. On the other side of the freeway are buildings and some homes.

The night is cool, but standing on the side of the freeway I’m nearly shivering. The wind from the passing cars hit me hard, forcing me to stand on the side of my car facing the large empty field. I pull my sweater tighter around my body, not really knowing what I’m doing here.

A few more cars pass by me, then everything gets quiet. No cars are in sight. The emptiness and silence are strange, it almost feels wrong. I clear my throat before I speak.

“I-I don’t know if it was you but thank you. Some bad men were following me that night and, they said you appeared in their car, causing them to crash. Whether you did it on purpose or not, I don’t know. But either way, I just want to say thank you.”

As soon as I’m done talking, I feel something behind me. The hairs on the back on my neck stand on end and a familiar chill runs down my spine. Turning around, I see her. The 405 Spirit.

She’s short, with long, wavy black hair. She’s wearing a long-sleeved white dress from a period and location I can’t place. Her skin is a pale gray and her dark eyes are rimmed with red like she’s been crying. The first thing that comes to my mind when I see her is La Llorona, next I think banshee.

“Holy shit, you’re real,” I gasped.

Her head tilts, but her face is emotionless. “Did you think I was not?” Her voice is low and broken.

“I don’t know. I’ve heard you, sensed you even, but I’ve never seen you. And that night, I didn’t hear or feel you.”

“I was there. They were going to hurt you.”

“I know, the cops told me.”

She nods and says nothing. She looks away from me, towards the large empty field. I can see how sad she looks, so sad and broken.

“Who are you? Why are you here?”

“I’m stuck.”

“Are you La Llorona?”

She thinks for a moment then shakes her head. “No.”

“A banshee?”

“No.”

I nearly sighed in relief. “Then, what are you?”

“I’m a spirit, I think. I don’t know.” She turns back to me and blinks slowly. “You should go, it’s getting late.”

After that first encounter, I drive to that stretch of road a few times a week just to speak with her. Some nights she appears, barely talking and always so sad. Other nights, I never see her. But regardless of her being there or not, I always speak.

These visits last all summer. For a long time, I wasn’t sure if she liked when I would show up or if she was bothered. I figured if she wanted me gone, then she would ignore me or tell me to leave.

The nights I see her; I do most of the talking. I tell her about what I’m studying, my hopes, and dreams. I mention my family and friends, tell her about my pets. I even talk about that new baking show I’ve been hooked on. She always listens politely to my ramblings, nodding her head and occasionally asking questions.

It is towards the end of summer that I notice a change in her. Her physical features are still the same, grayish skin and a blank face, but her eyes aren’t so red and she doesn’t seem so sad. By then, she appears most nights and is talking more and asking me questions. The more I talk to her and see her, the livelier she becomes.

When the fall semester arrives, she appears in my car and accompanies me to the offramp I take to school. She starts out sitting in my backseat, sometimes asking questions, but usually silent. Eventually, she begins to sit in my passenger seat. She’s always a comforting presence in my car.

She likes music, particularly Hozier and Adele. If any other artist is playing, she changes the station. I was curious about her past, so I tried playing old Spanish songs, but she had no reaction. The same thing happened with a playlist of Irish songs I found. She would change them with no reaction or comment.

The first time she touches me, we are stuck in traffic. I was heading home after a long day, tired and hungry. She’s sitting beside me in the passenger seat, slightly bobbing her head to the song. I was starting to doze off when a cool hand touches my arm. I jump and open my eyes.

Her face is as blank as usual, but something in her eyes makes my chest warm. “Don’t fall asleep.”

“Right.” I wipe my face and force myself to stay awake.

The next time she touches me is during one of my late-night visits to her stretch of road. We’re sitting in my car, simply enjoying each other’s company. I was dozing off again, and she must have thought I was fully asleep. Her cool hand touches my cheek, causing goosebumps along my skin.

I open my eyes and turn to look at her. Her hand is still on my cheek and her face is inches away from mine. The usual sadness in her eyes is gone, she looks scared and hopeful. Slowly, she leans forward and presses her lips to mine. I immediately kiss her back.

Her lips are cold and she tastes faintly of honey and wildflowers. I reach for her, surprised to find her body is solid. The more we kiss, the warmer I get, even she’s feeling warmer than usual. As the kiss deepens; my lower stomach twists and tingles. When we pull away, I’m breathless and she looks winded. She’s beautiful, with slightly swollen lips and a hazy look in her eyes.

I slide my seat back and motion for her to climb onto my lap. She does slowly, bunching her dress around her waist. Her hands rest on my shoulders and I place my hands on her waist. She’s so cool against my body that I can’t help but shiver. Her eyes soften as she leans down to kiss me; she seems almost hesitant.

As the kiss deepens, our hands are all over each other. We’re mapping each other’s bodies over our clothes, grabbing and squeezing. She’s squeezing my breasts, twisting and pulling my nipples through my shirt. I run my hands along her back, tugging at the fabric. She pulls my hair at the roots, grinning at my gasps and whimpers.

When my hands come to the swell of her ass, she groans. I squeeze, enjoying her noises and the thickness of her ass. When she pulls away, her face has more color. Her cheeks darken and her lips are swollen. Her dark eyes are needy and wet. She looks torn, scared and excited, by what we are doing.

“Please, don’t cry,” I whispered.

“I’m so scared,” she confessed.

“Why?”

“I’ve been alone for so long. I don’t remember my name or who I was, and this,” she gestures between us, “Scares me.”

“We can take this slow, whatever this is. We don’t need to give it a name. I like you,” I confessed.

She frowns. “I’m not even alive, how can you like me?”

“I don’t know, I just do.”

She sniffs and wipes her face, then climbs off my lap and sits in the passenger seat. “You should go home.”

The monotone sound of her voice scares me. I blurt out my next words without thinking. “Would you want to come home with me?”

She shrugs and refuses to look at me. “I don’t know.”

I try to ignore the pain in my chest and nod my head. “Ok. You can always come home with me, I told you how I feel.”

She nods then disappears. I sit alone for a while, wiping the tears from my eyes. With a heavy heart, I go home.

I don’t see her for a few weeks. She doesn’t appear in my car when I’m driving to school, I don’t hear her wails anymore. At night, I go to her stretch of the road and wait. Sometimes I talk to her like she’s there, other times I just sit there in silence. She never shows up.

While I’m used to being alone, I’ve never felt this lonely. My heart aches and it feels like there’s a gaping hole in my chest. I never realized how important she in my life. I don’t know how it even happened, but it did. And my heart hurts because she’s gone.

At night, I lay in my bed and remember the way she tasted and felt in my lap. My lips and stomach tingle at the memory. It’s during these nights, as I remember what we did, I blame myself. I should have let the soft kiss be only that, a soft hesitant kiss. Never should have motioned for her to straddle me. Never should have kissed or touched her so passionately. Never should have offered for her to come home with me.

The next time I see her, it’s a surprise. It’s a boring Saturday and I’m spending it at home alone. I’m watching tv in my room, some cooking show is playing, but I’m not watching it. I start to doze off, the show is just noise, and my body relaxes. Just before I’m fully asleep, I feel something in the room.

The hairs on my arms stand on end, and my heart begins to pound. For a moment, I can only hear the tv and blood rushing in my ears. There are no other noises in the room, and I begin to think I imagined something. That is until the bed dips and something lays beside me.

I jump and turn, expecting an intruder or some creep who broke into my house. Instead, it’s her. She’s here, laying on my bed. She looks the same. Long, dark wavy hair pools around her head like a halo. Her dark eyes are rimmed with red and filled with tears. That same sad look on her beautiful face.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered.

I don’t know if I should be angry or happy to see her. I sniff and wipe my eyes. “What happened?”

“I… started remembering my past. My name and how I died.”

That took me by surprise. Her lost memory has never been addressed between us, but I’ve always wondered who she was.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

She nods. “My name is Maria. I was killed for loving a woman.”

“What?”

She gives me a sad look. “I loved a woman once; she was sent away because of our affair. I was killed by men who wanted to… to ‘fix me.’”

That revelation is like a punch in my gut. She… she was killed for loving a woman. The implications of the pain she suffered during her last moments, it breaks my heart. Tears stream down my face, tears of anguish and rage. I’m so angry, angry at the world that she lived in. I’m so angry about what those men did to her.

I understand now why she ran and the fear she had about us. I understand why she saved me all those months ago.

“Maria, I’m so sorry.”

She gives me a teary-eyed smile. “There’s no need for you to be. The world has never been kind to women, and it will probably never be.”

“But you… oh god, Maria.” I’m sobbing fully now.

She cups my face and wipes away my tears. I pull her to me and hold her tight.

“That’s why you saved me that night, from those men chasing me.”

Maria nods. “When we kissed that night, I started to remember the woman I once loved. I felt… guilty. And I was afraid.”

I nod. “I understand. But what brought you back to me?”

“I just missed you. I’m so sorry.” She pouts and wipes the tears from her face.

I scoot closer to her, taking her cool hands in mine. “It’s ok. Thank you for explaining to me what happened. I missed you too.”

“Can… can I still stay with you?”

“Yes. If you ever need time away, please tell me. Don’t just vanish on me.”

She smiles and nods. “Ok.”

The rest of the night we spend in bed together. The tv is still on as background noise. But my attention is on the beautiful, sad spirit in bed with me.

We kiss each other’s tears away that night. We touch each other, rubbing and squeezing until we’re both out of breath. Her mouth is on mine, my hands in her hair. We only stop when I’m oversensitive and exhausted. I fall asleep in her cool embrace, the feeling of her fingers running along my back is the last thing I feel.