#HAPPY (SLIGHTLY BELATED) BIRTHDAY LIZ !!!!!!!!!!

[jwooyoung]

forever only (for liz)

[lizzaneia-elizalde]

Hey Liz, today marks a day after my birthday and I haven't cut a cake yet. My father forgot to buy me a cake which is okay i guess? Some people don't even get to cut it even once in their life, so what if this year is this way, but nonetheless I'm a little depressed, cried a little but I'm fine now..

Damon, Azreal and Amor have a special place in my heart so how about a tidbit where they see reader celebrating her birthday alone in the middle of a cold park? Hehe i think it'll cheer me up as my only birthday present this year ^^

Thanks, i love you and sorry if it's too much to ask, you can ignore it:)

-🌼

Yandere men and their Darling's lonely birthday

Aw 🌼anon, it's completely valid to feel like that. We all have our own problems and struggles, wants and desires. No need to degrade your own wants for others. Sure, it makes you somehow feel better, but sometimes thinking for yourself is okay.

Don't worry! I got your other ask correcting who the yanderes you wanted the scenarios with. But, as a small gift/bonus, I decided to add all of them!

Btw, happy belated birthday 🌼! May your days from here on out will be filled with mirth and joy, with little to no sad days (/^-^(^ ^*)/

ALSO FORGIVE ME, THE PLOT IS ALL ANGST AND I CAN'T TWIST IT TO A HAPPIER ONE--

YAN! ASSASSIN

Azrael, whistling due to another successful mission, had his mind set on finding his darling to celebrate. Although, there is a nagging feeling in his heart that he forgot something important.

Surely, if he forgot it, it's not that important. Right?

It was already night time when he passed by the abandoned park. He saw a figure in there, softly singing happy birthday to themself.

"Pfft. Loser." Azrael rolled his eyes before jogging towards the bakery to find the perfect cake to celebrate.

It was warm inside, a stark contrast to the snowy cityscape outside. It felt like a whiplash from the difference of the temperature, but did it feel good.

He remembered the figure celebrating their birthday in the park once more. He felt bad for them, so he bought hot chocolate for them to drink up with.

But, as he paid for the food, he realized he's feeling bad for a stranger. A stranger.

Strange.

The bell rang once he got out. His eyebrows scrunched up as he slowly walked towards the park. The snow scrunching beneath him.

It felt like cold water was splashed onto him when he realized something was amiss.

No, someone was amiss.

There was his darling, eating cake in the cold winter by themself. He felt his blood run cold as he's rooted to the floor. His eyes followed their movement. The way their hands slightly tremble as they used a plastic fork to eat cake. Their lips chapped and cracked from the cold.

"Darling..." He whispered, slowly going to him.

He forgot his darling's birthday...

He knelt in front of you, who was surprised to see him. You cleared your throat, clearly not wanting the pity.

"I am so sorry..." He whispered, his hand clutching his chest. His eyes wide as tears slowly formed. "I forgot your birthday. The day you were given to me..."

He didn't even ask you why you didn't tell him, why you're celebrating outside, or why you're alone.

"Darl, I got cake here too. Here! Hot chocolate. drink it. Please." Azrael whispered, siding with you and making sure that his body heat overwhelmed you.

He kissed your head, hugging your body.

Were you this small against his frame?

You were usually so cold and high strung. But in this case, even if you were complaining, guilt ate him up so much as he buried his lips on yours.

Forgive me for forgetting darling. Forgive me...

YAN! JOCK Damon bursts through the gym doors, irritated and angry by the fact that his coach extended practice for him. He didn't even bother hiding his real self as his fellow teammates pursed their lips, scared by the sudden change in Damon.

"Damon! Get back here!" The captain yelled, not aware of the sudden rage surging through his blood.

"You don't order me! You hear?!" Damon, filled with trepidation, roared out at the now stunned captain. "Because of you... Because of coach... FUCK!"

He didn't even grab his bag. Only the giant gift bag as he ran through the railings and hedges towards the parking lot.

Hopping on his motorcycle, he revved it up and sped out. He didn't even hear the guard yelling at him. All he knew is that you were waiting for him.

His jaw ticked with worry. Eyes now filled with agitation as his heart pumped through his chest.

You were already waiting for two hours.

TWO HOURS.

His phone was dead. With no outlets available, and with his useless teammates not having their phones with them too, he was dreading the clock as it ticks by.

He almost ran over people and had a huge risk of crashing on a truck just to get to you.

He didn't even bother parking in the right spot once he got to the park.

His legs, powerful as they may, felt so slow as he ran through the park's entrance.

He's so close. Please, please... He hopes you're still there.

Then, he saw a familiar head of hair.

Damon froze, before shaking off of his daze immediately.

Turning to his right, he pushed pass annoyed people and onto the denser parts of the park.

And there you are.

You don't even look sad, annoyed, or angry.

You're just quietly playing with the half eaten bento cake. You didn't even care that people were staring at you with pity, or worse, mockery.

And, when Damon arrived with a gift bag, they assumed the worse and whispered quietly amongst themselves.

He flushed red before walking towards you.

"Hey... I'm sorry i'm late..." He almost punched himself. That's the first thing he says?!

"It's okay." You sighed before shrugging. "Really."

Guilt ate him up alive as he felt the distance between you two widened greatly.

You felt so out of reach that it's almost dizzying to think of.

He shakily handed you the gift, which you gently took without a word or a peep.

"Thanks."

"I... I'm truly sorry. I swear it's not my fault. The coach, the captain, they held me back and I just..." He tried to reason, but you only smiled.

A formal, heartachingly distant smile.

Please don't leave me...

YAN! PLAYER (Genuinely speaking, Amor wouldn't forget your birthday. If he himself forgot, the gods would remind him. But if he did...)

Amor clutched his head.

He just woke up and the gods are bombarding him with messages. So mixed that he can't decipher the messages properly.

But all of them had the same tune.

"It's Y/N's birthday!"

Amor felt his heart squeeze in pain.

It's his darling's birthday?!

How could he forget?

How dare he sleeps through it?!

He scrambled upwards and to the end table. Almost hitting his skull on the headboard as he read the time.

The suddenly felt so cold when he realized it's already 10pm.

How much did he drink that he only got to wake up now?

He didn't waste any time. He immediately grabbed his coat and wore his pants. He didn't even pay attention to his butler as he made a mad dash towards the parking lot.

"God! Why is the mansion so big?!" He yelled throughout the house, his voice echoing his paranoia, announcing in the middle of the night.

When he reached the parking lot, he's already a mess. He got to the nearest car and slammed the door shut once he got inside.

The gods buzzed in his ear again, calling him useless as he could just use their powers.

"SHUT UP! I'M ALREADY PANICKING, ALRIGHT?!" For the first time in his years in this life, he felt so helpless as he bangs his head on the stirring wheel. "Please... Just tell me where they are?"

The gods whispered before one of them finally got the location.

"The park? Alright. Why are they... Whatever."

Stomping on the accelerator, he drove through the weavings of cars inside the parking lot before impatiently honking at the large garage vault door to open.

"OPEN THE GATES!" He yelled through the intercom when he passed by the garage intercom so he could just speed through without waiting for the gates to open.

It felt like a blur as he zoomed through the city. His head was spinning from the ache in his heart as he stopped at the parking lot.

He took his time, biting his already broken nails as he sped walk through the park. He doesn't even know why you were there. Maybe you had a party there?

He's hopeful. Even if he's getting insanely jealous from the prospect of you being with someone else, it was much better than being...

"Alone..." Amor whispered, his eyes glazing over with overwhelming love and pain at seeing you singing by yourself in a somewhat cheerful way.

Were you always this alone?

"Hi..." He cleared his throat, his heart aching as you looked up at him with a pleasant and excited surprise.

You looked so happy seeing him. His heart yearned to ease your loneliness.

"Uh hi, I was just passing by. And couldn't help but hear it's your birthday!" He tried to cheerfully say, but the edge of sadness was evident and he wished that you can't hear it. "And I figured hey, it's my favorite barista's birthday. Why not celebrate it! Come on, my treat. You can get all of the gifts you want!"

He gave a wide grin, now a small seed of hope planting inside of him as your eyes now held a genuine happiness in them.

I will spoil you greatly, darling. Never you will be lonely again.

YAN! VILLAIN Eros sighed, massaging his temples as he looked through the mountain of work in front of him, now reduced to a small stack.

He's happy that he got through the work the new Emperor gave him. After all, the ascension to the throne is never not the busy one. Everything needs to be smooth for the new ruler.

Once he finished, he called for his butler to give all the documents to the palace by tomorrow.

Eros got out of the room and summoned a shadow, ordering it to see what you're doing right now.

The nagging feeling that he forgot something was so strong though. He knew that something was wrong, and he just can't shake it off.

He found himself going to his room and his walk in closet, picking at the seems of one of his suits for a ball.

Then, his shadow returned.

He paled.

He hastily wore the suit, desperately yelling for maids to get inside to help him wear the outfit.

It's your birthday banquet today?! How could he forget?!

And if it's your birthday banquet, then the prince...

As the maids, confused yet still doing what he's ordering to, retouched his face, he couldn't help but feel his overprotectiveness surge through his body.

"Okay, that's enough! Out, now!" The maids bowed before scurrying away.

"Where is it?! Where is it?!"

He finally found the jewelry box in his drawer. Grabbing his late mother's (Ugh) necklace, he hastily found a velvet box to put it in.

The necklace, passed down to women of his family, will be given to you in your "anniversary"

But he doesn't give a damn about that anymore.

Swallowed by his shadows, he appeared in front of your chateau and marched upwards the stairs.

He ignored the people who greeted him, but their eyes were telling him that something happened.

"Announcing, Duke Eros!"

His eyes scanned around the ball and zeroed on Yuno and Elysia dancing in the middle of the ball. No remorse as this fiance of yours paraded his mistress.

He felt sick.

And where are you?!

He made a mad dash towards the middle and pushed away Elysia before grabbing Yuno by the collar, making the people gasp in fear.

"You fucker. You're dancing with your mistress in your fiancee's ball?! How low could you go?!" He yelled, making the people bow their heads in shame, including Yuno.

He threw Yuno to the ground, glared at Elysia, before going outside the mansion.

"Sweetheart! I'm here! Where are you?" He yelled, looking around the gardens.

He heard your soft weeps, and his protectiveness surged through him.

"Sweetheart! Where are y-- there you are." He gulped, seeing your teary eyes look up at him. His heart clenched. "What happened?"

"That lowly woman!" You spoke through unbridled tears. "She dares humiliate me on my own birthday? Telling the whole ball she slept with..."

You didn't even finish talking when you felt queasy to the stomach from the memory.

"And you... I thought you'll protect me?" You whispered, eyes brimming once more with tears. "I felt so helpless there. Their eyes felt so forebodding..."

As you sobbed through the pain, Eros's heart ached for you.

With shaky hands, he opened the velvet box and gently made you wear it. The cold jewel felt oddly warm on your skin as your senses were filled with his scent.

"I truly apologize for not being there to protect you." He whispered, brushing away your hair. "Now, shall we go back inside to let Yuno and Elysia see who are they messing with?"

I promise to protect you always, Darling. So cry in my arms, i'll brush those tears away.

YAN! HOSPITAL CHAIRPERSON

(It won't make sense for you to be in a park since you did get unwittingly imprisoned in his mansion. So, I adjusted a bit.)

Xavier had another tiring day in the hospital. It was annoying, as the stakeholders are continuously badgering him to expand his business to other ventures.

He already has his hands full with the hospitals and clinics. What more if he decided to go beyond the medical field?

He groans, driving through the night back home.

Once he got to the house though, he caught a whiff of something sweet.

Cake.

"Oh no..."

He rushed to the kitchen, not even sanitizing first.

There he saw you. Your head buried on your arms as you sat in front of the island counter. An unlit birthday cake in front of you.

It was cold, dark. The only light there is the moon illuminating your sad and lonely figure.

A cry was about to claw out of his throat as he slowly approach you.

"Hi... How's my birthday celebrant?" He winced, the shame and self anger evident on his voice. "S-surely I didn't make you wait too long..."

In denial.

Then he noticed the liquor bottles in the sink. Two bottles, empty.

He can smell the alcohol on your body. The island had a puddle of wetness too, clear and leading up to your cheeks.

A sob threatened to get out of his body as he hugged your figure.

"I'm sorry for coming home so late..." He whispered, kissing your head. "I really thought you won't want to celebrate with me... I guess i'm wrong."

He watches your body rise and fall, fully asleep and drunk.

"Let's celebrate tomorrow. No, the whole week." He whispers, putting the cake in the fridge before gently carrying you upstairs to your room.

I'll make it up to you, completely. So, sleep tight, love.

[sopekooks]

happy happy and ever so slightly belated birthday my dear!! i hope your day was just as wonderful as your lovely self if not more so 💕 MWAH

the funniest person in this website is in my inbox? good morning to me. thank u so much liz! i had a wonderful day <3 i hope you are having an amazing day too!

[userjiminie]

happy (ever so slightly belated) birthday my dearest rafa <33 i hope it was a wonderful one!! ~ @hopeinthebox mwah

hey, liz 🥹 thank you for the sweetness MWAH MWAH 💋🫶🏻

[insidious-intent]

What Dreams May Come

HAPPY BELATED BIRTHDAY @andrea-lyn​!!!! This little, month-late gift for a wonderful person and friend, and an incredible writer! 

A/N: This fic takes place before the events of s1 and therefore before Alex is injured. 

READ ON AO3 INSTEAD

Alex came to with a big gasp, feeling his lungs expand with air in a burst. His vision swam from the sudden movement, and his whole body cried out in protest. It felt like resurfacing from underwater, his body feeling loose and heavy. He waited for the dizziness to pass, before trying to get up again. The room he was in was clearly a hospital, small and white-washed, with equipment beeping, and sounds of machinery surrounding him. He fumbled out of bed, trying to see if he could find his prosthetic or a set of crutches, and almost fell out. His right leg was still there. 

The realization knocked over him like a slow cresting wave - Alex had just woken up, after a long lucid dream. He hadn’t even deployed for his second tour yet. It was almost Thanksgiving of the year 2013 and Alex Manes was only twenty three years old. 

Alex sat on the hospital bed and tried to breath through the panic of reality reasserting itself. He had just been somewhere else - a car, he was driving, coming back to Roswell when his car was T-boned. The last thing he remembered was his consciousness fading, as people ran over to hopefully help him out of the car. And now he was here, in a hospital room, back in real life.

He finally got out of the hospital bed, and saw that he was still in his fatigues. Old training regimen resurfaced, and he moved to the door, finding and slipping on his shoes silently. He needed to find out what was going on, why he was in a hospital since he should have been in his barracks. 

The hallway was dark and silent, and Alex felt dread build up in his veins. This wasn’t right, no hospital was this ever this dark and isolated. He walked slowly, the need to compensate for a prosthetic on his right keeping his gait uneven. He tried to think why anyone would need to make him think he was in a hospital and kept coming back to a single answer - Project Shepherd. It wouldn’t have been quite three years since the project had been formally shut down, and his father would still have enough to pull to keep things afloat. Alex needed a plan. He needed to make sure nothing about his dream was recorded by the Project Shepherd team, and he needed to get to Roswell. He needed to make sure his friends were ok, that Kyle and Liz were safe, and Michael. 

Michael, his brain screamed. He needed to find Michael. He needed to protect Michael. 

He finally found a room that wasn’t fully dark and abandoned, and circled around slowly to make sure he wasn’t going to run into anyone. The room had multiple screens running, a lot of them showing people in white gowns attached to machines that kept them sleeping. PASIV, he remembered that’s what it was called. He remembered when he was dragged into his CO’s office, surrounded by military men who talked about Alex as a potential candidate for a top secret assignment. 

He had been lucky to have a CO who wasn’t part of the Manes circle of influence, and within the first year of basic he had been selected for Officers training. He had been lucky to have the team he had, and he wished he had listened to his gut instinct on why he did not want to go on some top secret assignment. He didn’t know back then, but only now did he realize that his father had clearly stolen more than one PASIV, and was using it for his own purposes. 

A noise disrupted his thoughts, and Alex froze, making sure to not make any movement. Footsteps came closer and the click of a gun had Alex moving, turning to move out of the way of any potential shots. The man in the room was military, holding a gun at Alex’s head. 

“Subject 235N, you are not supposed to be here,” the man said, his gun still held high. 

“I’m sorry, I just woke up. What is happening? Where am I?” Alex tried to project as much of a confused aura as possible. He couldn’t let this guy hold him here, but he didn’t have a weapon. Yet. He let his hands move behind him, grabbing hold of a pen. He needed to make this quick. 

“You shouldn’t be here, you need to go back to your room,” the guard said, coming closer, the gun still aimed at Alex. He needed to act fast, and he needed to act quietly. Alex had no idea how much his father already knew, and what proof they had collected. That guard was his only way of finding out more and getting out of there. 

The guard never saw it coming, one minute he was coming close to grab Alex, the next minute he was on the floor bleeding from his carotid artery. Alex moved quickly, grabbing keys and key card from the guard. 

Alex ran down the hallway, hat and jacket stolen from the guard. He thanked the universe for his father’s lack of technical prowess or paranoia, because he found the typed reports of all his conversations - with Kyle, with Jenna, with Michael - only they never happened. They were all one intricate dream. 

***

The phone number Alex had memorized for Kyle was picked up after only three rings. The voice on the other end was not Kyle, but it was a shockingly familiar one. 

“Jim Valenti,” said the voice of a dead man. Alex flinched hard from the shock, before remembering reality. Jim was still alive. 

“Jim? This is Alex Manes,” he said into the cell phone. He knew he needed to ditch this phone soon, the guard the phone belonged to would be discovered very soon. But he needed an assist first. 

Jim was silent long enough that Alex had to check if the call was dropped. “Alex Manes? I was told you were deployed to the middle east,” Jim finally replied. 

“Jim, I’m not in the middle east, and I need you to come get me. I don’t have a lot of time, but I need you to meet me at the coordinates I just texted you,” Alex spoke quietly but quickly. “I won’t have this phone for long, so please move fast.”

***

Two days later found Alex in Jim’s old hunting cabin, although it wasn’t as old as Alex remembered. The floors and kitchen were still clean, and the grotesque hunting trophies of stuffed animal heads were still on the walls. Alex’s memories glitch with the overlay of his dreams where he had removed the worst of the stuff, upgraded the rooms for accessibility, and the living room rug had revealed the existence of a bunker. But none of that had happened yet, and Alex still had a chance to change things. Fix some mistakes. 

Jim hadn’t kicked him out of the car when Alex talked to him about the dream share program, and he hadn’t immediately sectioned him, so Alex felt more confident sharing the details of the dream itself. Jim’s shock at the alien revelation from Alex cemented some things, but he still needed more information. 

“Jim, I know what my dad is up to, and I know that you’re involved in it too,” he said over a plate of churros, freshly delivered from Michelle Valenti’s kitchen. He sat there chewing, watching Jim struggle to divulge the truth. Alex could be patient. Not infinitely, but a little. 

“Alex, you have to know we were guarding against a large scale threat,” Jim started. Alex tried to stay still, letting Jim have the space to confess. “We thought we were saving lives by containing dangerous entities.” 

“Are you listening to yourself, Sheriff Valenti?” Alex couldn’t keep a lid on his anger anymore. “Are you telling me that the unlawful detention of and experimentation on hundreds of people for decades is your idea of saving lives? Is your moral compass that corrupted?”

Jim looked at him with sad and knowing eyes. “No son, my moral compass was temporarily skewed. I saw the error of my ways years ago, but it’s too late for me to walk away from this mistake.” Alex knew what he meant. Once someone was ensnared in the web of hate and violence that was Jesse Manes and Project Shepherd, they couldn’t leave of their own volition. In the dream world, Jim Valenti had paid the price of such thinking with his life. Alex wasn’t going to let that happen this time. 

Alex started pacing the tiny space in the cabin. He still had a visible mismatch in his gait, his brain not able to match up to the reality of his not yet missing limb. But this wasn’t the time for fixing psychosomatic hangups, Alex needed to focus. 

He had to do something to fix things, but he wouldn’t make the same mistake twice. He couldn’t just march up to Michael’s door and demand answers. He needed a plan, and an ally. 

He looked over where Jim sat with his head down, staring at the floor. 

“Is Max Evans a sheriff’s deputy yet?”

***

Max Evans looked young, but still burdened by a truth. Alex had watched from the living room as his cruiser had pulled up, a couple hours after Jim made the call. Max’s hair was cut short, and he hadn’t quite bulked up the way Alex remembered him looking five years from now. Youth and the strenuous nature of his job had very likely kept Max still looking like a cross country runner. He approached the door warily, one hand close to his weapon, as he knocked. Alex could see all that from his perch, conveniently hiding him from the front door. 

Jim was the one who opened the door. “Come on in Evans,” he said, greeting Max at the door and letting him inside.

Max walked in slightly more relaxed now that he could see Jim was unharmed, but his eyes immediately landed on Alex and he jumped a little. He was clearly not expecting Alex and Jim had obviously not cleared up anything from the way Max immediately looked on the defensive.

Jim walked up behind him and put a hand on Max’s shoulder. “Easy, Evans. Take a seat, this is just a conversation.”

Max slowly sat down and stared from Alex to Jim. “Everything alright, Sheriff?”

Jim took a deep breath before speaking, and Alex remembered the way he had to do the same - back when he had those conversations. Back when he never got a chance to plan any interaction. 

“Max, Alex needs to talk to you about something, but I need your assurance that you will hear him out.”

Max glanced at Alex for a moment and hesitated. Then to Alex’s immense relief, he nodded. 

Alex took a breath himself, bracing for Max’s reaction. 

“Max, I know what happened in Roswell in 1947.”

***

The wiring of the cabin had been old, and Alex felt a moment of deep annoyance at all the work that would be needed to recover and upgrade the wiring. Max’s reaction hadn’t been surprising, but Alex was still kicking himself for not talking out in the middle of the desert. Oh well. 

Max hadn’t taken kindly to the revelation of Alex’s knowledge about him. He had been even less understanding about the imprisonment and torture of alien survivors of the ‘47 crash, but had flat out refused to believe that Noah was dangerous and they were now at an impasse. 

“Ok but if Noah is who you say he is, you wouldn’t mind running a full background check on him, right?” Alex tried a new tactic. 

“Absolutely not! He’s my sister’s boyfriend. And a lawyer. And a golden retriever personified, there’s no way he’s this creepy killer just because you saw it in a dream!” 

Alex pinched his brow between his eyes, but Jim was already moving towards Max with a folder. “Your sister is in danger, Max. And you need to start seeing things for what they are.”

The folder had everything Alex had been able to compile about the identity of Noah Bracken in the couple days he had. It had the evidence of identity fraud and degree fraud, coupled with his presence around people who disappeared and were eventually found dead. He hoped Max would see reason. 

That night Jim brought over food, while Alex told Max the entire story of dream share, Project Shepherd, and what ended up happening to Max, Isobel, and Michael in his dream life. They sat outside the cabin, Alex enjoying a rare slouch on the stairs of the cabin, beer bottles hanging from their fingers. 

“I’ve been afraid of people knowing our secret my whole life,” Max said, stretching out his legs. “And it turns out not only did a lot of people know, they’ve been hurting my family for decades.” He chuckled sadly. “Some protector I am, huh.”

Alex was stunned to find that he could relate to Max in the moment. He was reminded of that moment after the Caulfield explosion, watching Michael’s hope and desires of a family go up in flames. All of Alex’s hopes of finding a sliver of happiness for Michael going up in flames. 

“You still have a chance to make things right, Max,” Alex said, an answer for a rhetorical question. “We can still help your brother and sister escape this psychopath, and if you trust me, we can go save some of your other family too.”

“Are you doing this for Michael?” Max’s question came out of nowhere.

“What?”

“Michael. Is all this for him? You both had a thing in high school and I always thought Rosa’s death put an end to it.” Max’s face was open and curious. “But that wasn’t it, right?” 

Alex had an entire moment of hesitation, when years of fear and violence had honed his reflexes to respond with deflection and protecting himself. But he also remembered the consequences of hiding his relationship with Michael. The hurts it led to, the bridges it burned, the people it hurt. He wasn’t going to make the same mistake. 

“Michael has been the one and only man I’ve loved in my whole life,” Alex responded, voice crisp. “And yes I want to protect him from my violently homophobic father who destroyed Michael’s hand just for making the mistake of loving me,” he pauses, fortifying himself, “but this is about more than just Michael. This is about you and Isobel, and the many living breathing people imprisoned for decades for no other reason than that they are different.” 

***

Alex was trying to remember the exact words Michael had used that day. The fated day when he came back to Roswell, trying to clear our the Foster Ranch under orders of his father. He was practically drunk on memories as Max’s cruiser rolled up to the ranch, coming to a stop by the airstream. 

He remembered the desert dust swirling around him as he had walked inside, Michael throwing himself on top of him. 

Max strolled up and knocked on the airstream door, waiting for Michael to open it instead of barging in. The deference in his movements looked a little clunky, but Alex appreciated the way Max had immediately internalized Alex’s comments about all the small ways Michael had suffered over the years. Alex knew Max intellectually understood that Michael had a rough life, but he would never understand the mundane exhaustion of this life. The way years of violence, poverty, and neglect leave you constantly exhausted, physically and mentally. 

He stood back to give Max some space, but also to give himself the distance he needed to prepare. To see Michael again, without the hurt and anger and loss between them. And never if Alex had anything to say about it.

The sound of someone walking up to them was probably drowned out by Max’s yelling around for his brother. 

“That’s private property, Deputy Evans!” Michael yelled from behind them. Max and Alex whirled around simultaneously. There he was, the love of Alex’s life. 

Michael’s face registered shock for a moment, and smoothed out into a sarcastic smirk. “Alex,” he drawled, “back from Baghdad.” 

Alex couldn’t help but grin, he had missed Michael. It felt like years, and in Alex’s dream world it had been years, but here standing in front of that ridiculous airstream, he couldn’t help but be overjoyed. 

“It’s good to see you, Guerin,” he said. Michael’s smirk faltered, brows pinching in confusion. He looked great, young like Alex and lithe like Max. Alex couldn’t believe he didn’t see the familial similarities, not in their appearances but their manners. 

“What are you doing here? I thought you were deployed overseas still,” Michael said. 

Max answered instead of him. “Michael we need to talk to you, and we need to do this inside. Right now.” 

Michael’s hesitation was clear, and Alex realized he must have had all his spaceship research strewn around if he didn’t want them inside. He decided to make things easier.

“Guerin, it’ll be ok. You can trust me,” he said. Michael looked up, confused.

Max looked at Alex and then at Michael, “he knows,” he murmured at Michael. 

Michael’s eyes widened, shock and fear tangible. 

“Guerin. Michael,” Alex started, “I have so much to tell you. Please give me a chance.”

Michael didn’t move right away, standing for a moment and staring at Alex. He must have found the answer he was looking for because he finally moved forward and opened the door of the airstream. 

“After you, Deputy,” he said to Max, who walked inside without a single word. Before Michael could follow, Alex quickly grabbed his good hand and brought it up to his lips. 

“Michael, I was not lying when I said it’s good to see you,” he said. “And I don’t plan on ever leaving you. I love you Michael Guerin.” 

The slow incredulous smile on Michael’s face was everything, and Alex grinned, young and happy and in love.