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adhd-disaster-willie · 4 years ago

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Seventeen and strung out on confusion; chapter 1/4

Summary: Just some snippets of backstory for the one and only Alex Mercer; aka my comfort character. Each moment will have a date attached so you can understand the timeline. Angst with fluffy found family moments :)

Warnings: Homophobia, swearing

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As I’m sure you could guess, there are numerous problems that come with being the only out gay kid at your school in 1994. It’s not so bad if you keep your head down and persuade your friends not to get into a fight with everyone who throws a slur your way, but regardless. That pink hoodie that you’ve been wearing since you were 14 and is honestly too small at this point but your parents refuse to buy you another one? Well it’s a target on your back and apparently everyone at the school is now a professional archer. Or at least, they’re all very proficient in the art of unoriginal insults that cut deeper than they should. All of this is to say, don’t come out to your religious parents in 1994. Ever.

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Alex Mercer was born into a perfect nuclear family, in a two story house with a white picket fence, brick columns, and a clean cut yard that was unsettlingly green. His parents were as religious as anyone could get; straight-laced, good Catholic parents who kept their hands tight around Alex’s shoulders. He went to church every Sunday and tried to ignore the way his neck itched from the too-tight collar and his mother swatting at his hands until he had to sit on them to refrain from drumming on the nearest surface. He was good at hiding the way he payed undivided attention to his little sister’s ballet classes, good at pretending to stare at the girls in the hallways that all his friends drooled after, and especially good at convincing everyone that he drummed and sang to… impress said girls. Right. But unfortunately, Alex was even better at accidentally outing himself a day into the New Year, consequentially losing all of his parents’ affection.

He didn’t even exist to them anymore. Maybe it would’ve been better if they’d given him a million restrictions and curfews and basically chained his hands together, because this was unsettling. And lonely. Family dinners were a thing of the past, and he’d really begun to sympathize with Reggie and his microwaved, half-cold meals every morning and night. But it could always be worse. They hadn’t kicked him out… yet.

---

January 25, 1994

“Alex, dude!”

Alex flinched upon realizing Reggie’s hand waving in front of his face. He looked up and smiled guiltily, realizing the way he’d frozen, spaced out staring at the wall and absentmindedly hitting his sticks against his legs with a beat that didn’t at all match the song they were supposed to be rehearsing.

Luke sighed, wiping the pout off his face. “Alex, come on man! We aren’t gonna get any gigs if you keep…” He waved his hands vaguely and slapped Alex’s shoulder. “Just, pay attention dude.”

“Right,” Alex replied, his voice strained. He was staring down at his shoes and he could feel his bandmates having a silent conversation above his head which he could only deduce Luke was not happy with, probably meaning they were stopping rehearsal. He didn’t want them to stop for him; it made him feel like a burden, and Luke was right, if they were gonna make it anywhere, they had to be all in.

“Alex, you okay?” Reggie asked, his eyebrows knit together in concern.

Alex nodded briefly and kept his gaze trained on his feet. His sneakers were too small and he had to curl his toes in for them to fit but he was afraid of the reaction he’d get from telling his parents he needed something.

“It’s not one of those homophobic jackasses again, right?” Bobby asked, moving closer, his eyes narrowing. “I swear, this time I will cave Josh’s fucking face in-”

“It’s not!” Alex clarified, finally lifting his head. “It isn’t…” he sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Look it’s just my parents alright? They…”

Reggie’s eyes widened and he began fiddling with his flannel sleeves. “They didn’t… they didn’t hurt you did they?” He asked, his voice small.

“No, no they didn’t hurt me… not physically at least.” He laughed ruefully. “They’re just being stupid, alright? Ignoring me like they have for the past 3 weeks.” Alex stood up, well aware that at this point band practice was a thing of the past. He walked to the couch, the other three boys in tow.

“Hey!” Luke elbowed Alex’s side before throwing an arm over his shoulders. “That new Green Day album is coming out in like, a week.” He grinned, eyes lighting up. “I’ve been saving up to buy it, and we can use that new cassette player I got for Christmas to listen to it.”

Alex nodded, smiling softly and letting his head relax on the back of the couch. “Yea that sounds great. Promise you won’t listen to it without us?”

“Of course ‘Lex; we all gotta be there to find which songs we’re gonna cover.”

Reggie wrinkled his nose in confusion. “I thought you said we’d moved past being a cover band?”

“It’s Luke, he’ll make an exception for anything if it involves Green Day,” Bobby chuckled.

Several beats of silence passed in which the sun seemed to get increasingly lower in the sky, before Bobby sighed in resignation. “You’re all staying here tonight, aren’t you?”

Luke beamed, clapping Bobby’s shoulders. “You know us so well.”

“Sleepover!” Reggie laughed, pumping a fist in the air. “Does it count as a sleepover if we all basically live here at this point?”

“Shhh ‘Lex, don’t ruin our fun,” Luke responded.

Alex smiled hesitantly. Yea, he was okay.

---

May, 1994

Michael Williams had dark hair brushing the tips of his shoulders, eyes that were almost golden in certain lights and a smile that gave Alex butterflies. Not to mention he was in theater and had a reputation for flipping off the homophobic jocks that were constantly on Alex’s tail. Not that he did it specifically for Alex, but still. The only problem was that talking to cute boys that he hadn’t known since 3rd grade was far from Alex’s strong point.

“Come on Alex!” Luke groaned, sliding into the last open seat at their lunch table. “Just talk to him before I literally combust.” He punctuated his sentence by waving at Alex with a cold french fry.

Alex grumbled something, his face in his arms in a futile attempt to hide the red dusting his cheeks.

“Hey Luke, if you explode because Alex refuses to talk to his crush, can I have your CD’s?” Reggie quipped, a lopsided grin on his face.

Luke gasped in mock offense. “Reginald-!”

“Still not my name.”

“I will be buried with my music,” Luke said. “Both of my guitars too-”

“Even your amp?” Bobby questioned.

“Yes.”

“Seems like a waste of space. Can you even fit all that in a coffin?”

Luke shrugged. “You guys can figure it out. Don’t betray my dying wish.”

Something that would’ve been silence had Luke ever been taught how to chew like a normal person passed over the table, in which Alex’s attention drifted lazily back to Michael Williams, who was chatting enthusiastically with one of the girls in his theater class. Alex didn’t know her name but they had biology together and she never gave him dirty looks, so he liked her.

“10 bucks if you go talk to him,” Bobby said, nudging Alex and waggling his eyebrows.

“No. No,” Alex said. “Not happening.”

“15.”

“Where is this money coming from?” Alex squeaked, although the prospect of $15 was all too tempting. He could get some decent shoes for that.

“20,” Bobby continued, grinning maniacally.

“Dude!” Luke laughed. “How are your parents gonna like you asking for money to fulfill a bet?”

Bobby slapped a hand over Luke’s mouth.

“I’m gonna regret this,” Alex sighed, already moving to stand up.

Reggie giggled like a child and offered a shit-eating grin to Alex, who promptly flipped him off before heading across the cafeteria.

---

December 17, 1994

Alex was screwed. No. Alex was completely fucked. Alex Mercer was likely seconds away from living in a ditch. Because of course it had to be his sister who caught him making out with a guy after school. And of course she was too young to understand why she couldn’t tell Mom and Dad. Because she would’ve done the same if he’d been kissing a girl because kissing is gross and it’s funny to tell your parents that your big brother was kissing someone.

“Hey Mom, guess what Alex did today?” Angie asked, giggling. She was perched on the counter, licking frosting from her fingers while their mother brushed cookie crumbs from her dress. And Alex was frozen at the top of the stairs, crouched down, his heart pounding so loud he was sure it could be heard downstairs. He dug his nails into his palms and prayed that his mother would pretend he didn’t exist when he wanted her to. It was one thing, them knowing. But this? This was something else. Alex’s parents lived on the philosophy that homosexual thoughts got you an eternity in hell, but homosexual actions got you shunned and thrown out. So yea, he was screwed.

“What did Alex do today?” His mother asked, plastering a false smile onto her face, her voice sounding like she was already packing his bags. Alex wanted to get up and run. He wanted to go to his room and jump out the window and fly away. But it was like the sweat on his palms was superglue keeping him stuck to the carpet, and his brain had short-circuited.

Angie laughed again, trying to get it out through her snickering. “Alex was kissing someone today.” She sang, her small feet swinging back and forth, the noise of her heels against the counter like knives in Alex’s ears. “That boy Michael that used to go to our church.” The innocence in her voice made Alex ache.

“Angie.” His mother’s voice was cold now. “Leave please.”

Angie’s brow furrowed in confusion, but she scurried up the stairs anyway, giving Alex a tearful hug on the way because even at ten, she knew that that voice meant trouble. “Sorry ‘Lex. I shouldn’t ‘a told your secret,” She whispered, before sprinting to her room and leaving Alex wondering if he’d get to see her after tonight.

“Alex Mercer, please come downstairs.” Her voice chilled him to the bone, like shards of ice penetrating his skin and seeping into his blood. But he walked down anyway.

Alex tightened the muscles in his hands and feet, willing himself to stay still and planted to the wooden floor, facing his mother head-on, as if the look in her eyes wasn’t terrifying him to the point of tears. But he wouldn’t let her see that she was getting to him, he wouldn’t. So he bit his tongue and counted down from ten inwardly.

“What is this nonsense?” She hissed, reaching out and gripping his forearm, her nails a millimeter away from digging into his skin.

Alex swallowed roughly. “I- I don’t know. Angie’s just… she’s-”

“Don’t lie to me!” His mother snapped. She brought her hand back, curling her fingers in with a look of disgust, as if she’d been touching fire. And then she was speaking again, but Alex couldn’t hear her over the pounding in his ears. He tightened his jaw and shut his eyes momentarily. Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry.

“Get out.”

His eyes snapped open. Alex stood still in front of her, searching her eyes for the slightest bit of remorse. But there was nothing but ice. So he left. He left with tears running down his face and he couldn’t even bring himself to say goodbye to Angie. It wasn’t until he was halfway down the block when he realized that he had nothing but the clothes on his back and a backpack full of everything he could fit, and no where to go. He collapsed on the ground, the cold night air finally hitting him, seeping into his bones. He looked up and wiped his eyes, sniffling. It was odd, the way that the Christmas lights were able to look so beautiful when he felt so broken inside. It felt almost unfair that everything outside of him was moving at a normal pace like nothing had changed. But Alex knew better than that. Everything had changed.

---

These are the people who expressed interest in reading this when I posted about it a few days ago :)

@edgeofgillespie @herequeerandcantdrinkbeer @lookingthroughmirrors

chapter 2

chapter 3

chapter 4

#jatp #julie and the phantoms #can you tell i wasn't born in the 90s lmao #alex mercer #alex mercer jatp #jatp fic #jatp fanfic #reggie peters #luke patterson #bobby wilson #trevor wilson #willow writes

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spaceskam · 5 years ago

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draft number 34 for @winged-fool @insidious-intent and @lire-casander! this got away from me and turned into something else whoops

warning: suicidal thoughts & terminal illness

ao3

“Alex, you need to talk to them.”

“No.”

Kyle sighed, trying not to show how badly he was hurting for his friend. He wasn’t sure exactly what happened, but Alex was really fucking sick. An un-fixable level of sick. Kyle just had to watch as he laid up in bed and let it happen.

“You’re going to regret it,” Kyle tried again. Alex shook his head, wincing as he curled further into himself. He refused to tell him exactly what was wrong, only that he had limited time left. To say it was infuriating was an understatement.

“I said all I wanted to say to them,” Alex told him, “Can you get me water please?”

Kyle sighed, “Yes. But please think about talking to them.”

Four months prior, Alex had gotten drunk during a friendly brunch and basically destroyed his relationship with everyone. Kyle was the only one who stuck around because, well, Alex had insulted them with the truth. Kyle couldn’t blame Alex for getting fed up and calling people out on their shit. Maria did backstab him, Michael did ignore his feelings, Liz did choose favorites, Kyle did put his father in a coma that he woke up from. Alex was right.

The place where Alex went wrong was refusing to even try to reconcile whenever they were still all working on the same goal. Maybe they didn’t try either, but it still caused a lot of problems.

Kyle brought Alex a glass of water and pills for the pain. Ever since Alex had accepted his “fate”, he became willing to take whatever would make him get through the day without feeling like complete trash. Kyle helped him take a sip and brushed his hair off his sweaty forehead.

“I wish you’d let me help you,” he sighed. Alex shrugged slightly.

“You are helping.”

“Keeping you comfortable is not helping,” Kyle said, “I don’t even know what’s wrong with you. Have you even been to see a doctor? How do you know for sure it’s fatal?”

Alex looked up at him, eyes bloodshot like they always were these days. His face was sunken in, his face was pale, and, beneath his baggy clothes and blankets, his body was rail thin. His symptoms didn’t match anything Kyle knew–or, rather, they matched too many things. Weak, coughing, loss of appetite, hair loss, trouble breathing, aching muscles, loss of hand-eye coordination, dizzy spells, fatigue, vomiting. He just had fucking everything and it was destroying him.

“I don’t need a doctor to know what it is and that it’s fatal,” Alex told him. Which, to his credit, was the most he’d ever said about his ailment.

“Alex, if there’s some way to stop this then–”

“There isn’t,” he said as firmly as his body would allow, “Promise.”

“I don’t want to lose you, Alex,” he admitted. Alex swallowed and took a heavy breath.

“You’ll be fine. I’ll be out of your hair before you know it.”

He didn’t know how to quite articulate just how not bothered he was by taking care of him, so he didn’t. He just let him fall asleep and stayed at his bedside.

“Kyle.”

Kyle glanced up and saw Michael trying and failing to pretend this was an accidental run-in. He’d seen the alien leaving the coffee shop next door before spotting him and then magically appearing in the grocery store with him.

“What’s up?” Kyle asked, trying to act like he wasn’t frustrated. But he was.

He wanted to grab Michael, throw him in the car, and force him to talk to Alex. He knew that if Alex died and the last thing he said to Michael was “funny that you never wanted to settle down until it was specially designed to ruin my life, can’t wait for your children to haunt me”, then he’d regret it. He didn’t want Alex to die with regrets.

He didn’t want Alex to die.

“Um,” Michael started, clenching and unclenching his fists as he looked around, “This is gonna sound weird, but is Alex okay?”

“Why would that sound weird?” Kyle asked slowly. Michael gave him that look that said ’you know why’. Kyle rolled his eyes. “Why don’t you just come see for yourself?”

Worry creased in Michael’s forehead and he stepped closer.

“What’s going on Kyle? Something feels off, I can’t pinpoint it, but something’s wrong,” he said. Kyle just stared blankly at him then gestured towards the shopping cart.

“I’m doing his grocery shopping. You can come with me back to the cabin if you’d like.”

“He’s not staying at home?” Michael asked, but quickly shook his head, “He doesn’t want to see me, just tell me what’s wrong.”

“I don’t know what’s wrong, he refuses to say,” Kyle sighed. Michael seemed to get even more concerned.

“Well, what the fuck does that mean?”

“You can just see for yourself if you go see him,” Kyle insisted. Michael looked conflicted, pained even. “I’m sure he’d love to see you.”

“He doesn’t want to see me,” Michael repeated, “He made that pretty clear last time we spoke.” Kyle rolled his eyes.

“Look, Alex was drunk and just letting it out. I’m sure he didn’t mean to never see you again after he blew up at brunch,” he insisted. Michael looked at him in confusion.

“No, I meant when I spoke to him last month,” Michael said, “He didn’t tell you? I thought he told you everything now.”

Kyle tilted his head to the side and was ready to go yell at the dying liar.

“What exactly did he say?”

“Alex, I cannot believe you.”

Kyle felt a little bad as he walked into the bedroom and saw him throwing up into the bucket at his bedside. When he stopped, he sunk into the bed looking even worse than he did that morning. He wheezed with every breath, but he still looked at Kyle like he was itching for a challenge.

Kyle was terrified for the day that fight left him.

“I ran into Guerin. He said he tried to talk to you a month ago,” Kyle said, trying his best to keep his voice calm, “Why the hell did you tell him you didn’t love him and didn’t want to see him again? Why lie about that?”

Alex shrugged before quickly sneezing and then groaning because the motion of the sneeze hurt his body. Kyle grimaced and had to take a moment to gather himself. He hated this. This was the worst fucking thing he’d ever gone through.

“Alex,” Kyle started again when it became clear that Alex wasn’t going to answer, “Why’d you say that to him? If you’re so sure you’re going to die, don’t you want to see him?”

Alex frowned and shook his head. “It’s better this way.”

“How?”

“I’d rather go with him thinking we fell out of love than him feel guilty,” Alex said, melting a little more into his bed. Kyle knew he only admitted that because he was on painkillers. However, one part of that definitely stood out to him.

"You were sick a month ago?” Kyle asked, voice as controlled as he could be. That was the only way to get information from a not-entirely-coherent Alex Manes.

“No,” Alex hummed, “But I knew I would get sick.”

Kyle was frozen for a moment, just staring as Alex just started to go to sleep. He let him go to sleep because he needed and then promptly left the room. He knew he was going to get sick. How the hell did he know that? And if he did, why didn’t he do something to stop it?

Against his better judgment, Kyle picked up his phone and called Liz.

“Is there a chance it’s alien?”

“I have no fucking idea,” Kyle sighed, “But maybe. I mean, it doesn’t seem like anything I’ve seen before. Maybe he was messing with something he shouldn’t have? Or found something toxic in the files? He refuses to talk about it.”

Liz pouted as she stared at Alex’s sleeping form. He’d been sleeping a lot more in general, but the last two days he’d been sleeping almost as much as a newborn. It was scaring Kyle more than he wanted to admit. Because knowing Alex was going to die and watching him lose the fight were two very, very different things.

“When he wakes up, he’s going to be so pissed I called you,” Kyle said. Liz gave him a concerned look.

“Does he hate us that much?”

“No, as far as I can tell, he didn’t make a point to make up with anyone because he didn’t want any of you to care when he’s gone,” Kyle said. Liz gave a hurt noise in response and looked over at him. “But, honestly, did any of you reach out to him?”

Liz didn’t answer right away, still staring at Alex’s form. He was pale and sweaty, but he still was covered up with more than a few blankets. Kyle could hear his heavy breathing from across the room. He didn’t know what the fuck to do.

“Have you taken blood? Tested it? Anything?” Liz asked instead. Kyle sighed and shook his head.

“He won’t let me.”

“Well, fuck, do it anyway. We can’t just let him die, Kyle.”

“I’m not forcing medical examinations or treatments on him, Liz. I’m the only one he hasn’t pushed away, so I’m not doing anything to make him hate me too,” Kyle told her. She looked at him, desperate for him to do something. He couldn’t. “I only called you to see if you could help me research for what it could be. Maybe he’ll let me do something if I can give him proof of a cure. I’m not asking you to force anything on him.”

“Okay,” Liz agreed, “We’ll search for a cure.”

“Alex?”

Alex gave a lopsided smile from his place in bed, trying his best to sit up in bed. Kyle walked over and helped him, making sure the tubes providing him oxygen didn’t get tangled up. They’d reached a level of friendship they couldn’t really go back on and he didn’t know how to feel about it.

“You’ve got a visitor,” Kyle told him. Alex furrowed his eyebrows, hands shaking as he tried to sit up without Kyle’s help. Kyle still pulled a pillow behind him for support. “It’s Liz.”

“What?” Alex asked. Liz popped her head in the doorway, smiling. Alex looked up at Kyle and then back to her, letting out a weak noise of discontent from all the movement. “Hi.”

“Hey,” Liz said sweetly, walking further into the bedroom, “How are you?” Alex stared blankly at her. “Right.”

“Liz came and she’s helping me look through files to try and figure out what might be wrong with you,” Kyle said. Alex started to shake his head in protest, but Kyle leaned closer to him. “We found something.”

“Stop,” he said weakly, “I don’t want it.”

“You don’t want to get better?” Liz clarified. Kyle ignored them both.

“The first tests from 1948 have notes of humans getting fatal illnesses two weeks after coming into contact with what I can only assume was originally a vaccine for an illness on their planet or maybe even something they took to help keep them safe from illnesses on ours. They never found a cure, they just locked up the rest of the substance,” Kyle explained. Alex seemed to sink further in bed. “Did you find it?”

Alex was silent for a moment, letting the air feel painfully heavy. Eventually, he sighed.

“I didn’t know what it was. It has a psychic ability to make you want it, probably to help kids not be scared to take it,” Alex said, taking a heavy breath in between every bundle of words, “That and there was already a needle on the vial. I couldn’t help myself.”

“Alex,” Kyle breathed, shaking his head in disdain, “Why didn’t you just tell me? I could’ve-”

“There is no cure. They revisited it before the initial shut down of Project Shepard. They all died, slow and painful deaths. It just happens. No point in fighting it,” Alex said. All the talking had him winded and exhausted again. Kyle shook his head.

“Yes, there is a point. I don’t want you to die,” Kyle said out loud, firmly.

“And this is basically my specialty,” Liz jumped in, “I wish I would’ve had an earlier warning, but I can still try. I don’t want you to die either, Alex. We all love you.”

“I’m tired,” Alex said, refusing to entertain them.

“Alex,” Kyle tried again.

“Stop,” Alex said with the most force he’d had in days, “I don’t want you wasting your fucking time. Leave me alone.”

“Saving your life isn’t a waste of time!” Liz argued.

“Yes, it is.”

They both stared at Alex for a few more minutes, but when he said he was tired, he meant it. He was asleep inhumanly fast and Kyle felt sick. He looked at Liz and they both seemed to decide on something, both of them leaving the room at the same time.

“I’m gonna find what’s left of that serum and we’re going to save him,” Kyle said.

“Agreed.”

“What are you doing?”

Kyle looked up to see Michael hovering in the doorway, clearly being nosey as ever. They shared a look before looking back to Michael.

“Trying to save Alex,” he admitted. Michael’s face went through a sea of emotions. “Yeah, well, you should’ve come to see him when I ran into you last week.”

“What?” Michael asked cautiously, trying to process what was being said, “Is it bad?”

“Yeah,” Liz admitted. Michael stood there for a few more minutes, eyes and face blank like he’d just checked out of the situation. They both stared at him for a moment, letting him look more and more lost with each second.

And then he bolted.

“Should I go after him?” Liz asked. However, there was the sound of his truck starting up.

“He and Maria broke up, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Then no, let him go.”

They were silent for a few hours, still tinkering. They’d been working basically around the clock for the last week, trying to find something as fast as possible. Alex was deteriorating faster each day. It was painful to watch and Kyle was getting more terrified that they weren’t going to find something in time.

“Wait, wait, Kyle, come here,” Liz said, ushering him over. Kyle peered into the microscope to see what she found. “Look, it stopped spreading! It’s been 24 hours with that serum and it stopped spreading!”

“And if we get it to stop spreading in Alex, his body might have a chance at fighting,” Kyle went on.

“And it’ll buy us time to find a legit cure!” she finished, grinning wildly and proud. He could’ve kissed her right then.

“Let’s go.”

Alex couldn’t move.

His body was weak and it was a pain in the ass to breathe, but he was doing it. It was really weird knowing you were out of time and really weird feeling your body slowly shut down. Sure, it wasn’t a new feeling to Alex, but this was the first time he didn’t feel the need to get better. He was content curling up in bed and letting it happen. He did like it better when Kyle was around, though. You know, as long as he wasn’t nagging.

But then a new voice entered the cabin.

“Alex?” Michael called.

Alex’s mind willed him to cover up more, but his body wouldn’t listen. So, instead, he laid there like an embarrassment, heaving each breath as Michael appeared in front of him. He didn’t say anything. Alex didn’t want him to. He just wanted him to leave. Why did he have to make this harder than it needed to be?

“Oh my God, Alex,” Michael whispered, cautiously reaching out to touch him. Part of Alex wanted to move away, but when his warm hand rested on his cheek, he couldn’t think of anything he’d rather feel before he died.

Michael kept saying his name in all different tones, all different emotions. It was something he didn’t know he wanted. Why was he sweet now?

“I’m so sorry I didn’t come see you earlier. I’m so sorry,” Michael gushed. Alex just closed his eyes and sort of wished he would leave. He hadn’t come earlier. There was a reason for that. They weren’t together and he didn’t want Michael feeling guilty. He was tired of making Michael upset.

With all the energy he could muster, Alex said, “Leave.”

Michael immediately shook his head and moved to sit on Alex’s bed.

“No, I’m not going anywhere. Not anymore. No more pushing each other away, right?” he said softly, running his hand through Alex’s hair. Alex sucked in another breath and he was so fucking tired. “Can I lay with you for a little while?”

Alex didn’t say yes, but he didn’t say no either. He wasn’t sure he had the energy to say anything even if he wanted to. And, right now, he was sort of okay with Michael just laying with him. If he wasn’t going to leave, might as well be selfish, right?

Michael lowered himself as carefully as possible, making sure not to interfere with the wires that were keeping Alex comfortable. He laid beside him and slowly, carefully tried to cuddle up against him. Alex couldn’t really make an effort on his own, but he could rest his head on Michael’s bicep. Michael reached out and let his arm gently rest over Alex’s thin torso.

“You’re gonna get better,” Michael whispered, “And then we’re gonna work out together so you can get your abs back.” Alex managed a tiny smile that didn’t last too long, but it seemed to suffice.

It didn’t take long for him to fall asleep.

“Guys!”

Kyle and Liz both ran into Alex’s cabin and into his bedroom as fast as they could, seeing both men asleep in Alex’s bed. Kyle gave a silent thanks to Michael for clearly doing something right for once in his life. At the commotion, Michael sleepily raised his head.

“We think we found something that’ll stop the spread of the poison in his bloodstream,” Liz said to him, “Wake him up.”

Michael still seemed out of it, but he nodded and shifted slowly so he wouldn’t hurt him. Alex had ended up morphed into his side and it was the most at peace Kyle had seen him in days. Michael touched his cheek.

“Alex,” he called softly, trying to just sweet-talk him awake, “You gotta wake up, okay?” A few more seconds of him being calm passed before it became clear that Alex wasn’t waking up. “Alex? Alex, c’mon.”

Kyle all but jumped onto the bed, trying not to be too harsh as he moved Michael out of the way to check out Alex. He quickly felt for a pulse and found it was super faint along with the fact that he was barely breathing. They had to do something now.

“Okay, fuck, okay, Liz, we need to give him the serum right now and then follow it up with a steroid shot,” he said, “Michael, my bag is in the other room and I have a bottle of dexamethasone, get that for me with a needle and gloves.”

“Wait, do you know how that’s going to interact with the serum or are you just fucking guessing?” Michael asked, panic on his face. Kyle almost kicked him out of the bed.

“I don’t have a choice, I’m trying to save his life,” he said. Michael huffed a breath but ran to do as he was told.

Liz gave Kyle hand sanitizer which he used quickly before accepting the gloves that Michael had given him in record speed. He cleaned off a patch of Alex’s skin with an alcohol wipe and then promptly injected the serum into his bloodstream. A few seconds later, he did the same with the steroid, massaging the injection points and waiting for Alex to wake up. He knew it wasn’t going to make a massive difference, but he could handle it as long as he was awake.

“Get me an oxygen mask,” Kyle directed, moving his fingers to find Alex’s pulse. It was a little stronger, but not as strong as he wanted. Once the mask was hooked up, he removed the cannula from Alex’s nose and put the mask over his face.

“Now what?” Michael asked.

“Now we wait,” Kyle answered.

“And if it doesn’t work?”

“Then we try again.”

Alex opened his eyes slowly.

“Hey,” Liz said, her face hovering over his with a wide smile, “Welcome back.”

“What’s going on?” he groaned, his body aching when he tried to move. Still, he felt more rested than he’d been in a while. In fact, as sore as he was, he felt stronger than he remembered.

“Well, you’ve been asleep for a week,” Liz told him, “But it’s a good thing. It gave your body a lot of time to fight the poison in your bloodstream.”

“Fight it?” Alex repeated. She smiled even wider.

“Yep. I came up with a serum to make it stop spreading, so your blood cells got to work. I’ve still been looking for a cure, but you’re getting better every day,” she said proudly. Alex shut his eyes and tried not to be angry at her for doing exactly what he told her not to. “Don’t get mad, you didn’t sign a DNR.”

“I should’ve,” he said. She frowned at him, but she tried to cover it up. It didn’t work.

“Look who’s here,” she said instead of continuing that conversation, sounding like she was talking to a child as she gestured beside him. He turned his head slightly to see Michael passed out on the pillow beside him. “He’s been awake for like a week making sure you were still breathing, so I didn’t wanna wake him up when you started to.”

“Alex,” Kyle’s voice suddenly said. Alex lifted his head just a little to see the doctor himself sighing a breath of relief. He came over and hugged him incredibly tight. “For future reference, you’re not allowed to die on me.”

“Yeah, well,” Alex sighed, his eyes drifting back to Michael.

“How are you feeling?” Kyle asked, doctor mode replacing the friend mode he’d greeted him with.

Alex just relaxed and let Kyle check over him, continuously looking over to Michael. He remembered him coming over, but the whole situation was blurry. He didn’t remember if they talked at all. He didn’t really remember talking to anyone about anything, honestly. He just remembered wanting to be left alone so he could die in peace and now…

Tears pricked his eyes involuntarily as he realized he went through all that bullshit for nothing. They just brought him back to feel good about themselves and now he was going to be back to square one. He finally had an out and they took that away. Why couldn’t they just let it end?

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Kyle asked. Alex swallowed hard and looked up, trying not to cry. “Alex?”

“Why couldn’t you just let me die? I told you not to find a fucking cure, I told you I didn’t want it,” Alex told him. Kyle blinked in surprise and Michael shifted beside them.

“Alex,” Liz started.

“No, I said I didn’t want it and you did it anyway. I was done, I left things how I wanted, and instead, you brought everyone into my home and made them cure me. I wanted to go on my terms. Why couldn’t you fucking respect that?” he asked, voice straining. Liz and Kyle both just stared at him like deers caught in headlights. “Why are you all so fucking selfish?”

“Are you saying forcing me to watch my best friend die wasn’t selfish?” Kyle asked him.

Alex took a deep breath, his lung burning just a little. He felt tired all over again.

“Yeah, maybe, I’m sorry. But you wouldn’t leave me alone even when I tried to push you away,” Alex said. Kyle stared at him for a minute before nodding.

“Okay,” he said, “When you get better, I think we should look into admitting you into a place that can help you.”

“What?” Alex snapped. Or, tried too.

“Alex, this was almost a suicide attempt. You’re literally telling me that you wanted to die. You need to get help,” Kyle said sternly. Alex didn’t know what to say to that. He couldn’t tell him that he was wrong. Instead, Alex closed his eyes and tried to go back to sleep. He just wanted to be asleep. “Okay. We’ll talk when you’re stronger.”

Pretty soon, two pairs of feet exited the room and left him alone. Sort of.

“Do you really wanna die?” Michael asked softly, childishly.

Alex looked over at him, his eyes wide and scared despite the dark circles beneath them. Alex sighed and Michael scooted closer. He just wanted to go to sleep.

“You can’t die, Alex,” Michael said, “I’d miss you.”

“Yeah, well, you didn’t miss me until you felt guilty, so.”

“That’s not true. I missed you every day, but I thought you didn’t want to see me again. If I knew… If I knew how you were feeling, I would’ve stuck around,” Michael said. Alex stayed silent. “If you die, I’ll never get a chance to make it up to you. None of us will.”

“What makes you think you can?”

Michael scooted a little bit closer and rested his cheek on Alex’s shoulder.

“I don’t know. But you gotta let me try. For that to happen, you gotta get help.”

Alex sighed and stupidly let himself enjoy the feeling of Michael’s breath on his skin. He felt like he always just let this bullshit happen. Michael claimed that he was the one being pulled back and forth, but he didn’t seem to realize his own magnetic fucking qualities.

“Okay, fine, I’ll get help.”

Michael breathed a sigh of relief and scooted even closer, pressing his face into the crook of Alex’s neck.

Maybe he could find a reason to stay alive a little longer.

#malex #malex fic #alex & kyle #alex & kyle fic #roswell new mexico #my fic

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officialleehadan · 5 years ago

Text

The Highest Window

Belle and Fleur were not hateful by nature.

At least, that was what Dawn tried to remind herself of when they screamed and cried and demanded things Dawn couldn’t give them.

Such as marrying the first noble lord to ask for her hand.

Oh, he was alright. Little bound up in tourneys, and certainly no beauty himself, but he seemed kind, and his small barony was prosperous. Either he had a decent head under all that hair, or he employed someone who knew how to run an estate.

The difficulty was that he was human. Dawn’s lover, sweet and gentle, was nothing of the sort. But he loved her, and she loved him, and she would have none other.

Her father didn’t want to actually force her to marry, duty or no duty.

Belle and Fleur were throwing tantrums.

To make matters worse, the queen, the human one, not the faerie one, was in the castle.

Dawn was trying to avoid her too. She found the perfect place. A seat high in the archives, where a crossbeam cut all the way across the ceiling to a small window overlooking the forest. The small platform must have been left over from when the window was put in, but it was big enough for Dawn to nap in safely without fear of falling.

Only a day after she found it and told Tefaelian about her new favorite spot, a small vine of silver roses began growing out of a crack in the wall. Dawn could smell them every time she nudged the thick glass open. They chimed faintly when she ran her fingers over their delicate petals.

It was a bit dusty, but with book to write in, a basket of snacks and a pillow, it was very comfortable indeed. The archives always smelled of parchment and beeswax, and this high tower was warm from the fire far below.

All in all, a fine spot to hide.

“May I come over?”

Unfortunately, not as hidden as she hoped.

When she looked up, she couldn’t hide a gasp of dismayed surprise.

The Queen herself, silver-threaded gold hair in a simple braid and wearing a fine, though simple dress, was regarding her from the stairs.

Dawn tried to scramble to her feet, nearly spilled her basket of apples down on the scribes below, did drop her book, and narrowly missed spilling her ink-well all over it.

The queen laughed, the kind amusement of a women with daughters nearly Dawn’s age, and waved her back down.

Dawn did her best to curtsey, lap filled with the debris of her peaceful afternoon.

“Sit, child,” Queen Eletha said gently and walked over the beam with a confidence even Dawn didn’t feel despite taking the same path many days over. “No need to fret, I wanted to meet you, but you’re very good at disappearing in the evenings.”

“I don’t much care for court life,” Dawn said cautiously, and offered her second pillow to the queen so she could sit, unbothered by the dust of the high window “I’ve never been a good dancer and… well…”

She gestured to herself. Oh, she was in good health, her nightly walks in the forest saw to that, and her hair was better now that Kelaerafell was taking it in hand, but there was nothing to be done about her face. Her nose would always be too long, and her eyes would always be too small, and her mouth would always be lopsided.

She wasn’t ugly, but she was not a beauty. Certainly she wasn’t a perfect flower like her sisters. She was more a stout blackberry vine. Not unpleasant to look at, but thorny and nothing anyone planted for decoration.

Eletha smiled with a painful sort of understanding. She was, Dawn noted, not especially beautiful herself, but she was the daughter of a king. Beauty mattered less when you were royalty.

Also she had an air of kind elegance, and Dawn couldn’t help but notice that elegance was, in a way, more important than beauty. It lasted longer, anyway.

Maybe Kelaerafell could teach her to be elegant. As far as things to learn from the faeries, that was hardly the worst.

She learned other things from Tefaelian, but those weren’t the sort of things she could mention in any company, polite or otherwise.

“I know the feeling,” Eletha said, and stole one of her apples, unrepentantly polishing it on the hem of her gown before stealing Dawn’s little knife too and cutting it into neat slices. “Very well, I’m afraid. Your father has decreed that you must marry before your sisters.”

Dawn winced. “That particular choice is not going well for anyone.”

“Yes, I heard the shouting.”

“Belle doesn’t take refusal terribly well.”

“I heard that as well. Why are you refusing to wed Baron Jeriath? He’s a good man, if a bit absent-minded. He would treat you well.”

Dawn hadn’t expected such bluntness from a queen. To her shame, her cheeks colored, and she looked down at her hands to try and hide it. Her eyes fell on the silver roses that climbed their way around her secret window, and thought of Tefaelian.

Eletha’s eyes followed hers, and she saw the roses before Dawn could move to hide them.

Her quiet ah of sudden realization was not comforting, but also not the reaction Dawn expected.

“What is his name?” she asked, and offered Dawn half of the cut apple. Dawn took the slices, and offered the block of soft white cheese she had stowed away in the basket, and the fresh rolls of bread as well. Eletha brightened and cut cheese and bread for both of them next. “Your Faerie?”

“Tefaelian,” Dawn said shyly. She had a bottle of early-autumn cider in her basket, but only one cup. Eletha didn’t seem to mind, and took the cup when Dawn offered it next. “He is a songsmith. We met in the forest.”

“Well,” Eletha said, and raised the simple wood cup to Dawn before sipping at the spicy cider. “Oh, that’s lovely. So, your heart is given to a faerie, and no human man will do. That does present a problem.”

“I know,” Dawn said miserably, and took the cup when Eletha offered it, before passing it back. “But I love him, and he doesn’t care that I’m not beautiful, and we sing together-“

To her horror, tears came as she tried to crush down her fear of losing the few people who seemed to love her for being herself. Eletha set the cup aside and gathered her into a warm embrace until Dawn had cried herself out.

“I see several problems,” she said gently as Dawn dug out her handkerchief to mop up the worst of the damage. To her surprise, the queen fished in one of her large, hidden pockets and came up with a flask. She poured a generous measure of fine golden liquor into the cider, and proffered the cup to Dawn. “Careful, even diluted, it’s wicked stuff. First, your father has called on an ancient tradition and isn’t likely to bend. Second, your sisters are difficult, and aren’t likely to become less-so. Now, I can buy you time, but not much.”

“You would do that?” Dawn hadn’t dared to hope that, even with her kind understanding, the queen would help her. “How- I mean-“

“My daughter is marrying within a few moons. That announcement takes precedence to any other family business, such as your betrothal. Unfortunately, you’re going to have to come up with some other way out of it after that. Perhaps a more fortuitous match with the Good People?”

Dawn stilled. She hadn’t thought of that. To marry Tefaelian… would he even consider it? Faeries didn’t wed the way humans did, and he would have to come to the castle and meet humans.

But if he did, if he would, his proposal could never be refused. Not without risking terrible misfortune on the whole household.

“I can ask,” she said, and begun to smile at the tiny glimmer of hope that sprang to life in her heart. Eletha smiled fondly and took the cup of spiked cider back from her. “Thank you, Majesty. I never thought- I never thought you might be willing to help.”

“The crown has a very few useful perks,” Eletha told her with a smile. “But while I am queen, no woman will be left to fight alone while her more beautiful sisters receive more than their due. Now, tell me about your faerie. It’s been a long time since I met one of the Good People.”

+++

Songbird Songs:

Dawn is not a lovely woman, but her blind faerie love thinks her voice is the most beautiful thing he’s ever heard.

Sing the Revel

+++