#and it was s2 michael muttering *people = good* over and over again

[yasartmeme]

I had a vision

Also bonus:

[planetsam]

S2 prompt if you ever feel so inspired: Michael Sanders AU. Walt spends the time between asking to adopt Michael and when Michael returns to Roswell getting his life cleaned up. Not being able to help Michael was the shake up he needed. When Michael returns to Roswell Walt is able to become a foster parent. Gruff!Dad Walt is able to eventually adopt Michael. Michael learns about his mom from Walt much earlier and when Caulfield comes around they are more prepared and get Nora out safely.

Michael’s perched on the bed and all Walt can think about is how he looks like a bird about to take flight.

He’s been told a messed up story about the kid and though he’s grateful for him to be out of those hell places, there’s a difference between knowing a thing’s going to be hard and having it sitting perched on a makeshift bed in a makeshift bedroom clocking the exits. Michael’s eyes are focused on him even before he knocks on the wall to ask for entry. Michael says nothing and Walt fights the urge to smack his head against the wall. He’s lost his damn mind doing this.

“You gonna let me come in or should I try again later?” He asks and Michael flinches.

“It’s your house,” he says.

“And it’s your room,” Walt reminds him. Michael looks down and mumbles something along the lines of thank you and it makes Walt want to build a time machine, go back and kick his own ass until he gets his shit together a lot sooner, “you don’t gotta thank me.”

“Sorry,” Michael mutters.

“You don’t gotta apologize either!” He winces at the own exasperation in his voice. This kid needs professional help and neither of them is in a position to do that. Michael seems to curl in on himself, his eyes squeezing shut and his fingers clenching on the bed sheet, “be careful of your—“

“I need to get some air,” Michael says and scrambles to his feet.

“Don’t—“

“Excuse me.”

Michael doesn’t make it an option as he barrels past him and scrambles out. Walt hears something thud and fights the urge to reach for the bottle. He can tell why someone would think the things that are in Michael’s too thick file. Demons are a easier sell pretty much anywhere that isn’t here.  Walt scrubs his face and looks over at the shape watching from the couch. The damn dog is more judgmental than the people of the town but she helps.

“Well don’t get up and help or anything,” he says and goes after him.

Michael’s standing a few feet away breathing hard. Walt walks past him and looks at the other side of the car, the one that was facing the house. He sighs at the massive dent in it and looks back at Michael who looks like he’s going to be sick. At first Walt thinks it’s with fear, but then he doubles over and spews the contents of his stomach. No-one’s puked here since he went through withdrawal but he supposes that’s as good a run as he’ll ever get. He waits for Michael to be done and collect himself before he straightens up.

“Can you pop it back out?” He asks. Michael goes pale, “the dent, can you pop it back out?” He asks.

“I didn’t do that,” Michael blurts out.

“I’m not deaf,” Walt snaps, “or as stupid as your other fosters,” Michael looks stunned and it’s an odd look for such a young kid, “and I’m not going to hurt you.”

It’s clear Michael doesn’t believe him and Walt can’t say he blames him. The world’s a messed up place, he figures he knows that better than most people. He was probably younger than Michael when he learned it, but Walt’s not one to compare. No-one should be in that fucked up contest. Walt sighs and scrubs his face and pushes the itch for a bottle out of his head.

“I can help you fix the car,” Michael says abruptly, “I’m good with my hands.”

Briefly Walt wonders if the feeling of ‘this is never going to work’ is ever going to go away. Maybe it’s just part of being a parent. Walt remembers that he never wanted kids for a damn good reason. But one’s here and he’s gonna have to deal with it.

“Let’s go inside,” he says.

“You don’t have to call them,” Michael volunteers abruptly, “I didn’t mean to lie—“ he freezes as the sound of groaning metal echoes, “that’s not me!”

“Would you stop lying long enough to catch your breath? I know damn well it’s you,” Walt says, “why the hell else do you think we’re in a junkyard?”

Michael’s so surprised that whatever he’s doing cuts off and Walt hears something snap. He looks over to see one of the racks has cracked and watches one of the cars slide off and land on it’s roof. It looks almost comically like a bug that’s been turned over. Walt’s known for a long time he wasn’t cut out to be a parent to a regular kid. He’s got no idea what he’s going to do with a god damn alien. He figured this was a good place to start but he wasn’t expecting it to involve so many broken cars from the onset.

“How—“

“I knew your mother,” Walt says, figuring it’s best to rip the bandaids off in one go. Michael sways on his feet, “you gonna be sick again?”

Michael manages a nod before he hurls this time.

It might be the first honest thing he’s said.

Walt supposes it’s as good a start as any.

He steers the boy back inside and gets him into the chair. Nora hops off the couch and trots over, laying her head on his lap. Walt doesn’t have ginger ale but he’s got ginger beer which he guesses will have to do. He sets the can in front of Michael who looks ill at the sight of it.

“What do you need?” Walt asks. 
“Acetone,” Michael says.

“You better not be killing yourself in this house,” Walt mutters, getting the bottle out, “what’s this do for you?” 
“It makes things hurt less,” Michael says.

“Don’t drink too much then,” Walt tells him. Michael takes a few mouthfuls under his watchful gaze and then sets the bottle down. Some of the color has returned to his face. Walt takes the acetone and reminds himself he’s gonna have to lock it up and hope the kid respects him enough to listen, “well you don’t look half dead.”

“Is my mom dead?” Michael asks abruptly. Walt winces at the swerve but Michael’s apparently not done, “when did you see her? Do I look like her? Did she talk about me? Who was she with? Was my dad there? Could she move things with her mind too or did she read thoughts or channel electricity?”
 He cuts himself off breathing hard. It’s the most desperate Walt’s seen the kid since he’s been back. He’s got no business dealing with a desperate kid like this. He can picture his own old man’s reaction. Michael keeps look at him like a starving man and Walt has to remind himself he’s a kid who just found out someone knew his mother.

“I don’t know is the answer to most of that,” Walt says, “I saw her when I was about your age. She wasn’t the worst last thing to see with two eyes,” Michael looks surprised, “she mentioned you. Said you had her whole heart. You do look damn like her,” he leans back, “she said her name was Nora.”

“Did she say what my name was?” Michael asks. Walt shakes his head and Michael looks down, disappointed.

“Michael’s a good name,” he says.

“What about her powers? What could she do?”

“Well I saw her make fields grow,” Walt says. Michael perks up, “and some other things but that was the most impressive,” he looks at the boy, “can you do that?”

“Kinda,” Michael says, “I’m not good at it though, I usually make the planters explode.”

Walt blows out a breath and tries not to think about how this is going south faster than he could have thought.

But they’re here and they’re just going to have to deal with it.

** “This is ridiculous.”

Walt keeps his mouth shut as Jesse Manes checks his watch again. He guesses it was inevitable that the two would go at it eventually. He just prays to every God he knows that Michael didn’t do any of that alien shit. It’s going to be hard enough to explain this to the social worker as it is.

“Have we been called in yet?” Jim Valenti asks as he joins them.

“No,” Jesse says.

Jim nods.

Walt wonders what the hell he’s doing sitting with two people who represent the government. He’s been in trouble with the law enough to not want to be here. He’s also been in trouble enough in his school days to not want to be in there either. But he’ll take the slap on the wrist over the cuffs. When they are motioned in he’s the first up. Michael twists the second he walks in and gives him the barest head-shake. Walt lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. No alien shit then.

“What happened?” He asks.

“Your foster son fought with one student and attacked another,” the principal says.

“Why?”

Michael doesn’t answer.

“I told you—“ Kyle Valenti starts up in a tone that makes Walt want to plug his ears.

“The question wasn’t directed at you,” the principal cuts in, “Mr. Guerin, would you care to explain?”

Michael flinches like he’s the one whose been hit and Walt wishes things were different but he can’t be Michael Sanders if the paperwork doesn’t go through. Kyle looks smug. Alex whose been silent the whole time shifts in his seat. The look his father gives him is eerily familiar to Walt, the urge to grab Michael and get the hell out of there is a strong one. Alex wavers and then looks at the principal.

“His name’s Sanders,” Alex Manes pipes up.

“Not yet,” Kyle says.

“I started the fight,” Alex continues, “I was teasing him because he doesn’t have parents. Kyle got involved because he can’t keep his mouth shut.”

“No, I got involved because I don’t want to be in the locker room with someone who likes boys.”

The air vanishes.

Walt’s surprised to see Michael look equal parts devastated and furious. Alex looks angry as well, but anyone can see how hard his father is gripping his shoulder. It’s only Jim Valenti who looks ashamed.

“So it’s Kyle’s fault,” he says.

“Huh?” Kyle whips around.

“It’s his fault, clearly. You going to suspend him?” The principal looks surprised, “I think being off the team for the rest of the year sounds appropriate too.”

“Dad!”

The principal nods slowly. Jim hauls his devastated looking boy out. Alex lets out a sharp breath that Walt might mistake for relief until he sees Jesse’s hand hasn’t moved. Michael has seen it too and though Walt wants to tell him to mind his own business he knows that’s not what’s about to happen.

“I think that’s a fair resolution,” he says and sticks his hand out to Jesse in a sign of friendship. The main claims to be full of honor but it takes him a moment to pry his fingers off, “you boys want to apologize to each other?”

They both mutter sorry and Alex seems hard pressed not to rub his shoulder.

They’re all sent home. In the front seat Michael looks straight ahead. Walt gives him a moment, then a few more. When it’s clear he’s not going to be speaking up, he finally looses whatever patience he has left.

“I’m waiting for a explanation,” he says.

“His family killed my mom,” Michael snaps.

“We don’t know that!” Walt shoots back, “do you think she wants you getting yourself locked up or worse?” Michael looks down, “that wasn’t a rhetorical question!”

“No,” Michael says finally.

“How did Valenti get involved?”

“I was fighting Alex and he tried to back me up. He said because Alex likes boys.”

Walt would normally say that you need backup in life, that Michael shouldn’t let his stubbornness get in the way of that. But he can see how this doesn’t fall under that. He doesn’t like the Manes family on principal, not after the shit they’ve done, but even he’s not stubborn enough to see that Alex is like them. He might one day be, but right now he’s the same kind of prepubescent nightmare Michael is. Walt wonders if that’s a nightmare across all universes or if being in earth has just made things like that for Michael.

“It sounds like you did the right thing,” Walt says, finally catching onto Michael hanging on his every breath.

“You don’t think it’s wrong Alex likes boys?” Michael asks quietly. Walt cringes and Michael’s face falls, “got it.”

“No, you don’t,” Walt says, “I don’t care who you like, I just don’t want to be called into school for you pulling anyone into the bleachers or wherever you kids are making out these days. We have your hearing in a few weeks and we’re on thin ice with the noise complaints as it is.”

It’s nauseating how fast Michael whips to look at him. And how quickly he dives forward to hug him. Walt claps his shoulder as Michael jumps back into his seat. Sure maybe he never counted on raising a kid liking other boys, but he didn’t count on a kid period. And in the face of being an alien, well, Walt’s seen what Max is doing with his blackouts. Michael’s in trouble no matter who he wants to make out with. At least Walt can console himself there’s no risk of a cross species baby. He’s not sure he’s ready to add being a grandpa to his list of jobs.

“How long’ve you known?” Walt asks.

“Always I guess,” Michael says, “it’s like being a—“

“Not on school property,” Walt cuts in sharply.

That’s the last thing they needed added to this mess. There’s only one thing that could make it worse. 
Thankfully he and the Manes boy hate each other.

** Michael staggers in and Walt sighs deeply.

He’s done his best to keep liquor out of the house, for one he’s not strong enough to deal with that and two Michael’s got enough reason to drink. He doesn’t need to throw temptation in his face. Michael’s grown up into a good man, a man Walt’s damn proud of. He hasn’t done any of the stupid shit the other seniors are doing. Walt knows he’s a good man, he also knows how one drunken night can lead to a lifetime of regrets.

“You know I’ve got half a mind to keep you from that and let you feel the hangover,” he says finding Michael fumbling with the medicine cabinet.

“M’not drunk,” Michael slurs out.

“Sure you’re not,” Walt says sarcastically, “come on,” he says, “let me—“

“No!” Michael gasps and Walt suddenly finds he can’t move. Michael doubles over with a sound that goes straight through him, “just gimme a minute.”

“Okay, okay,” Walt says, “take your time. Breathe.”

Michael sucks in air and sobs on the exhale. Something in Walt aches to comfort him but he’s being held back. It’s been a damn long time since Michael lost control of his powers like this. Walt waits and after a long time he finds he can move. He forces himself to approach carefully, though he doesn’t think Michael will hurt him. He just doesn’t want him to stop him either. He crouches down on Michael’s level where he can see he’s shining with sweat, snot and tears. Like the first night he came. Walt doesn’t ask anything stupid like what’s wrong, he can see the way Michael’s got his hand clenched to his chest.

“Jesus,” he says and Michael pulls it closer with a whimper, “easy, easy,” Walt says. Comforting hasn’t ever been his forte. He settles his hand on Michael’s shoulder and eases him down to sit on the floor. He crouches in front of him, “let me see,” Michael shakes his head, “come on, give it here.”

Michael sobs as he supports his hand and eases it away from his chest. Walt pulls back the makeshift bandage. His hand is a mess of torn and twisted skin and misshapen bones. It looks bad. Walt can’t imagine how it must feel. Michael hasn’t offered any bullshit like it’s an accident. So Walt has nothing to go on but that it isn’t.

“We need to call your brother,” he says. 
“No,” Michael tells him.

“Why the hell not?” Walt questions.

“This can’t just vanish,” he says, dragging in a lungful of air, “they’ll know.”

“I don’t give a damn—“

“Jesse Manes did it,” Michael says and Walt finds he can’t breathe, “he did it because I got between him and Alex.”

“Why would you do a stupid thing like that?” Walt demands, “Manes boys are trouble, you know that. I thought you and Alex hated each other.”

Michael’s throat bobs.

There’s a frantic knock on the door. Michael tries to push himself up so fast he nearly falls over. Walt stops him from trying to scramble up and helps him brace his hand on his other one. He gets to his feet and gives Michael a warning look before he goes to the door. For a moment he lets himself be stupid and say that it’s going to be Max here or Isobel, someone who can actually help. But the stupidity only lasts as long as it takes him to look through the peephole.

“What do you want?” He questions sharply.

Despite having been frantically knocking on his door a moment earlier, Alex jumps. Walt can’t say he likes Alex, the boy seems to put sticking out like a sore thumb above everything else. Like survival. But he can’t say he hates him either and there are definitely teenagers he hates. Alex sneaking around with his son though, that’s a big mark against him. The worry on his face lessens that mark only slightly.

“Sorry to bother you so late, is Michael home?”

“He’s home alright, you wanna tell me what happened to his hand before I press charges?”

Alex pales but his jaw clenches and he meets Walt’s eye. Which is more than Walt would’ve expected from the boy whose been sneaking around with his son.

“I can tell you but pressing charges isn’t going to do any good,” Alex says, “Sheriff Valenti won’t do it.”

“He will if he knows what’s good for him,” Walt snaps.

“He doesn’t,” Alex replies. He looks anxiously over Walt’s shoulder and even under the mess on his face, he fucking lights up.

“I told you to stay put,” Walt says, turning around to see Michael leaning against the wall. He looks back at Alex who looks maybe five seconds from charging through his front door if he doesn’t move aside, “oh now you two don’t want to sneak around?” He looks between the two of them, “well does Romeo or Juliet want to answer me?”

“I didn’t want my father finding out,” Alex says. He looks at Michael’s hand, “I told him not to tell you.”

“Jesus,” Walt repeats.

He’s not a praying man but he’s going to need all the strength he can get if these two are planning on continuously sacrificing themselves for each other. One of them is going to do something stupid if he doesn’t move and he’d rather not deal with the telekinesis part of that. So he steps aside and nods Alex in. Alex scrambles forward so fast they nearly add another injury to the growing tally. Michael sinks down with a pained sound as Alex falls to his knees, his hands fluttering over Michael like he doesn’t know where to touch him. Michael tries to smile up at him but winds up folding over his hand. Alex pulls him close and even though it’s his own damn house, Walt turns away to give them a moment.

Thankfully he hears the car.

He shuts the door.

“You boys better get upstairs,” he says, “I think your dad’s here.” It’s hard to say who goes paler, “upstairs,” he repeats.

“I should—“ Alex starts.

“I wasn’t asking,” Walt says, “be glad I’m letting in you in his room at all after this,” he adds, helping get Michael to his feet, “and keep the door open.”

He takes the eye patch off. When he opens the door and Jesse goes a shade paler at the sight of that mess, he’s glad he did. It takes him a moment to recover and Walt wonders if he knows how involved his family is. He supposes that’s a question for another day. 
“Is my son here?” Jesse asks.

“Why would your son be here?” Walt counters, “did something happen?”

Jesse’s got some major balls on him to stand there.

“My son is involved with your—“ he begins

“Let me help you out, my son,” Walt says. Jesse presses his lips together, “don’t tell me you have as big a problem with adoption as you do with your son liking boys,” he says.

“You’re noble looking after him,” Jesse says.

“I’m not,” Walt shoots back, “I’m keeping a promise to a friend,” Jesse’s eyes narrow. Walt figures if he’s in for a penny, he’s in for a pound, “you’re damn lucky my boy’s a better man than the ones they produce here.”

“I’d watch your tone,” Jesse starts.

“I’d get the hell off my property,” Walt says.

Jesse holds his gaze for a moment longer but Walt’s faced down worse than some insane army man on a power trip. He’s sure as hell not folding. Not once Michael’s been hurt. Jesse at least seems to have enough sense to know Walt’s insane enough to take him on. Hell Walt’ll be insane if that’s what it takes. Jesse glances up and Walt ignores it. Michael’s barely standing and he sure as hell ain’t stupid enough to be by the window.

“If he comes by tell him I’m looking for him.”

“Do I look like a damn answering machine?”

It’s not easy to turn his back on a man he knows would shoot him, but for Michael he does and gets back into the house, making sure to slam the door behind him. He can’t tell if his heart is racing because of that, because Michael is hurt or because Michael’s got the boy he’s been sneaking around with in his room. He figures one thing at a time and goes for the first aide kit. Only to find it’s gone.

The door’s not closed all the way—because Michael has yet to meet a rule he doesn’t like to skirt. But it’s closed enough that he can peer inside quietly. Alex is splinting Michael’s hand. Michael barley lets him see him cry but both of them are snot nosed and teary, though Alex seems to have his wits about him. It’s not the worst splinting Walt’s ever seen. It’s on his lips to announce that Alex is sleeping in there over his dead body, but Michael’s laying his head on Alex’s lap and Alex’s fingers are moving through his curls.

He’s sleeping there for one night and one night only.

** “Is Michael here?”

Walt turns to look at Alex. It’s almost normal now to see him without his makeup and piercings, though Walt’s not sure he’ll ever get the image of him shipping off and looking out the window for a boy who wasn’t there out of his head. He’d ripped into Michael so badly that the boy had stopped whatever spiral he was on. College hadn’t been his favorite time but at least he could say he got his boy through that. Even if he’d continued to live at home. Walt’s not about to take that from him.

“No,” he says, “can I help you with something?”

Alex stares at him long and hard like he’s trying to read Walt’s mind or find out his secrets. He looks like he’s in shock, not an easy thing for someone whose been through the shit that Alex has been through. Walt sighs.

“Let me guess: you know.”

Alex looks so relieved that Walt knows his guess was right. Michael’s an adult. Hell Liz knows already. So it’s not like this is the first person to find out. But Alex is a Manes who looks uncomfortably like his father when he’s in his uniform. But Walt knows that a part of him still loves his boy. The fact that he’s not here with a team of scientists is proof enough of that.

“Do you—“

“Of course I know,” Walt says, “he’s my boy,” he drops his tools, “I knew his mom too,” Alex’s brow furrows, “oh you don’t know about that?” He shakes his head, “your family goes way back with his.”

“We do?”

“Yeah,” Walt looks over as Michael pulls into the driveway. He gets out of the car and stops dead when he sees Alex standing there staring at him, “you’d better come over here,” Walt says.

“I thought we were avoiding each other,” he says. Alex’s throat bobs before he straightens up.

They’re both adults, entitled to make their own mistakes. But Walt’s not sure he’s got it in him to watch them act like fools for another second. It’s been ten years of this pining, dancing around each other bullshit. Even now that they’re in the same place, neither seems to be able to get out of each other’s way long enough to do something productive. Even just standing next to each other they’re both struggling to be taller, though they damn well know Alex has an extra inch on Michael.

“Can we stop the dick swinging contest,” Walt says, “you both are ridiculous,” he looks between them, “well?” He prods Alex.

“I know,” Alex says.

“Know what?” Michael jabs. Walt swears he raised a smarter child. Alex looks annoyed, “what do you know?”

“He knows you’re an alien,” Walt says. Both whip to look at him, “I’m not standing here watching you two be idiots,” he says.

“Could you go inside then?” Michael asks. Walt raises his eyebrows, “please?”

He figures he can give them a moment before they need anything filled in. But if they start making out in his yard he’s going to ground them both. How that will work, he doesn’t know, but he figures it’s a start. There’s no making out, there’s just some arguing and a lot of gesturing from Michael. Alex eventually sits down because he’s still getting used to his missing leg. Michael paces like a wild animal. Walt watches and wonders if parents of straight human children have to go through shit like this. When they come inside neither of them is moving slowly or has shut up. What he isn’t expecting is for Alex to stay in the doorway and Michael to go upstairs and return with a bag.

“There’s an alien prison we’re going on a rescue mission,” Michael says.

“Bye Mr. Sanders.”

They’re both gone just like that.

It’s a full day before they pull up and Walt has decided he’s going to murder both of them so it’s a moot point. But he wants an explanation first. Just so he doesn’t have to have any guilt on his conscience when it comes to it. He’s fully ready for the murder too when Kyle ‘no longer an asshole’ Valenti gets out and jogs around to the passenger side. He’s not ready to see Michael helping out an old woman. She’s old and bald and wearing rags, but he’d know her anywhere. When she looks at him, she’s so surprised she nearly faints. But Michael keeps her upright.

“Walt Sanders,” she rasps, “you’ve gotten tall.”

Funny because he doesn’t feel tall.

Especially when she takes his hand.

“Hi Miss Nora,” he says.

“I guess I have two dance partners now.”

Walt looks over his shoulder as Alex gets out of the car. Even though he’s holding his mom’s hand, Michael is already watching him. Miss Nora sees it too. She squeezes his hand to get his attention and Walt looks at her. He has no idea if this is a thing where she comes from, but there’s nothing but soft pride in her eyes when she looks at Alex and Michael. And nothing but sharp humor when she looks at him.

“Well maybe just the one,” she says, “but I think you’ll do.”

[teaandatale]

Steggy Week Day 7 (Sunday): Free choice

My Theme: Previews & Support

1. Previews: Okay, work has been brutal, the muse hasn’t been kind to me, so I didn’t finish the couple other works I thought I would for Steggy Week. Instead, I’m going to share previews of 5 fics I’ve been working on (new and old), as a amuse bouche of an end to Steggy Week.

2. Support: Then for the rest of today, I will be checking out all the Steggy goodness created this past week and commenting about how brilliant this fandom is, as much as possible, because I know just how much feedback feeds the muse.

If anyone doesn’t have anything finished for today, might I suggest you tease us with your own preview of Steggyness to come :D

Previews of fics in the works below the cut.

1.     Untitled Agent Carter S2 AU

Summary: Steve is found in 1947, while Peggy’s still in Los Angeles.

“Howard what is going on?”

“We’re almost there. I’ll tell you then.”

He’s in some sort of mood, and acting shifty. She eyes him suspiciously as they follow along through several turns into alleys and side streets. She knows the destination three blocks from the building and the second she realizes, Peggy grabs Howard by the collar of his shirt.

“Easy pal!”

“What the hell are we going there for Howard?”

His eyes shift from hers in a rush, and he rubs at the back of his neck.

“It seemed like the right place,” he mutters under his breath and then ignores her demanding expression and continues walking.

She’d never avoided this street, but for all her time in New York since the end of the war, she’d never ended up back here.

“You found him,” she whispers like a prayer.

And for Howard to keep this information from her… It was cruel.

“How could you not say anything? How could you not tell me? Me! Of all people Stark!”

“That’s exactly why I had to figure out exactly what it is I found Peggy!”

“And what the bloody hell is that supposed to mean?!”

He bites his lip and then heads to the glass where the observation looked over a transformation of Steve Rogers once upon a time.

“Carter…” Phillips trails off in a soft voice she’s only heard a handful of times in her time with him. “There’s a bit more.”

Howard pulls the screen away from the glass revealing not an abandoned lab, but a whole slew of people and machinery working below them.

“He’s not dead Peg.”

 She’s gone insane. She’s finally gone insane. She’d wondered if it would come. If all the incredible disasters in her life would lead her to a complete loss of reality. And it’s finally happened.

 “He’s alive. Steve Rogers is alive,” Phillips confirms.

“We’ve been trying to wake him. But he’s been frozen so long it’s causing some problems. He’s thoroughly thawed out, so we’re not really sure what the trouble is. There’s not a lot of experience I have to work with here. But I’ll figure it out. I know I will.”

She is no longer interested in anything further that Howard Stark has to say.

Peggy flies out of the observation room, wrenching the way to the stairs open, even as medics and attendants swing their heads away from the body laying in the cot to her stomping on the steps.

  2.     Play Like a Girl

Summary: Peggy recently moved to Brooklyn where she happens to run into Brooklyn’s golden boy Steve Rogers on more occasions than she cares for. Her first real interaction with Steve, a recently retired MLB shortstop, leaves much to be desired. And yet somehow she finds herself helping him coach a girls’ baseball team for the summer.

 A baseball lands with a loud smack against her hardwood floors. Winston lifts his head, looks at her briefly with a tilt of his head before he runs off to chase after the rolling baseball.

            Peggy stands staring dumbfounded at her broken window, the faint sound of screeches coming from outside. After a few moments, she finally comes to her senses, outrage pouring out of her as she starts to stomp towards her front door to chase down the culprit. The second she pulls her front door open, her doorbell sounds simultaneously, and there he is standing in front oh her, Mr. Hometown Hero himself.

            Steve Rogers stands with a sheepish expression. Of course its him. Recently retired Dodgers’ shortstop, the hometown rookie of the year that led the Mets to the World Series during his second season in the major leagues, the attractive dog walker she’d been running into at the park directly across the street from her house.

            “Oh,” is the first thing he says, his eyes widening a bit. “Hi again.”

            He fiddles with his stupid backwards cap and she wants to rip it off his head.

            “Hi again? That’s all you have to say to me after hurling a baseball through my window?!”

            Winston decides this is the time to come bounding in with the stupid baseball in question. He drops it at their feet, more interesting at sniffing at Steve. He bounds up, front paws on Steve’s legs who immediately drops down to scratch at his ears.

            “Winston no! Down!”

            Winston withdraws, albeit reluctantly, looking back at her with that head tilt of confusion. She refuses to let her dog fraternize with this jerk of a jock.

+

“Great job today ladies,” Steve calls out. “Now all of you have a wonderful weekend. Be kind. Have lots of fun. And rest up for more on Monday.”

           “Bye Coach Steve! Bye Peggy!” They shout as they give the dogs last pats.

           “It’s coming along,” she notes. “And they’re having fun.”

           Steve nods. “They’re definitely more focused than I had expected. But then again they are much more mature than I was at their age.”

            “Or now,” she jokes. She regrets it for a moment, realizing that they’re not really friendly enough for that kind of teasing comment.

            But Steve, to her surprise, snorts out a surprised chuckle.

           “Well you’re probably right about that,” he agrees with easily. “Hey, thank you again for the snacks and breaks. Obviously they need more of that.”

            She bites her lip but then it comes out of her anyway.

            “I work from home a couple times during the week. So I’m free a few mornings,” she says. “I could perhaps lend a hand on those mornings.”

            She watches his face brighten but the smile is cautious.

            “You’re always more than welcome, you’ve made this even more fun,” he starts, rocking back on his heels, “but I’m sure you’re very busy. So no pressure. Really.”

            “I am busy,” she agrees, “but hell if I’m not already invested in seeing these girls grown as a team.”

            She thought she’d seen the extent of his happy expression, but the look on her face now transcends even his earlier joy with Rodger. It’s blindingly pure and she swears she feels butterflies kicking through her with a force she cannot reckon.

            Shit…

            Oh shit indeed.

  3.     Of Gold & Something More – Chapter 2 Dreams That You Dare to Dream

Summary: Peggy’s family moves to New York when she’s young. While she’s able to keep up her ballet lessons with the transcontinental move, it’s when her brother starts playing hockey that she gets interest in ice skating. There at the local rink, she meets her first (and only) skating partner.

 Michael takes her hand and helps her with her skates. “How was your lesson?”

            “Wonderful!” she sighs. “I didn’t fall once. I bet I’m the best one in the class.”

           He snorts. “It’s your third lesson Peg. Don’t go dreaming about the Olympics just yet.”

           “Why not?” She plants her hands at her hips. “I can do whatever I want to Michael. Even the Olympics.”

            He laughs and she pouts at him. “Alright you win darling. Now come on I’m starving.”

            Peggy turns back over her shoulder to watch the skaters still on the ice. She watches two boys, one with blond hair, the other with brown chasing each other up and down the middle, gliding with perfect ease. One day she was going to be able to skate so fast it would feel like flying. One of these days.

+

“Lessons are on the other end, Peggy,” the boy named Bucky he says with so wide a grin it makes her a little warm inside.

 “Lessons are boring,” she shoots back. “I can already skate backwards. And I already know how to balance you know since I’m a ballerina.”

His friend stays quiet behind Bucky, smoothing kicked up ice off his pants. She tilted her head at him. She wondered if he was shy. He didn’t seem shy when he was tearing up the ice with Bucky or some of the other hockey boys. But then she thinks back to the boys’ lessons she watched him skate during. The other boys would goof off between exercises, but he seemed to stay focused and quiet.

“Hear that Steve? She’s a ballerina.” The blond boy named Steve nodded and shoved his hands into his pockets. She notices that his cheeks are a little pink but she doesn’t know why. “I don’t know about ballet, but I can dance a little too you know.”

“Oh yeah?”

 “Uh huh! I started ice dance lessons with my cousin a couple of months ago.”

“Ice dance?” Her eyes grow wide and the bubbly feeling comes back. “You can dance on the ice? Show me!”

He laughs but it doesn’t make her bristle. He doesn’t seem to be making fun of her. She thinks.

 “I can’t right now. I don’t have a partner.”

 “I’ll be your partner.”

 He gives her his signature grin but shakes his head. “Sorry Peggy you’re too little to be my partner. You and Steve could be partners, he’s not that much taller than you.” She sees Steve turns red and kicks at the ice with his left skate.

  4.     ‘S Wonderful ‘S Marvelous – Untitled Sequel #1

Summary: Steve and Peggy make good on their promise to keep in touch and see each other in person before the end of the year.

 “I don’t snore!”

            Steve hums. “Maybe snore is the wrong word. It’s sort of a mix of a soft snore and a snuffle,” he tells her, his voice gone so soft and tender she feels something tighten in her stomach. “It’s cute. It made it feel like you were right here next to me for a moment.”

           Peggy turns onto her back staring up at the ceiling in the darkness, her free hand running across her bedsheets as if her body’s automatically searching for his.

           “I wish I was,” she whispers back.

            “Soon,” he promises in his whisper. “Time for you to go to sleep for real Peggy.”

            She grunts out her disapproval. “No I’m awake.”

           He chuckles. “It’s late. We’ve been on the phone for hours.”

           She glances over at her alarm clock, her eyes widening at the single digits. Hours indeed.

           “Time has a strange sense of humor then because I swear I just called you.” 

           “And yet time also makes it feel like I haven’t seen in you in months when it was just six days ago.”

            I don’t remember having this before… Just talking. Wanting to share more and more the longer we talk.”

            He hums in response. “It feels special.”

            “It is special.”

           He lets out a long exhale. “I can’t wait to see you.”

            “Me too. It’s soon. Soon. Even if it doesn’t feel like it right now.”

            He laughs again. “You got that right. Bedtime Peggy.”

            She hums sleepily. “Good night Steve. I’ll see you soon.”

            “Sleep well Peggy.” His voice is a lullaby and though her whole body aches with missing him, she turns over with a smile and falls back to sleep.

+

Her stomach flutters with butterflies as the train starts to slow into the station. Peggy pulls out her phone and rereads the text she received just a few minutes ago.

 Waiting at the station. I can’t wait to see you.

            She reads it one more time, stomach filling with anticipation. Had it really only been just over three weeks since she’d last seen Steve? It felt like months. And that hunger she had been feeling was finally going to be satisfied. She feels her body buzzing as she collects her luggage and sets off for the platform with the rest of the passengers making their way to their destinations. The station’s lights are a bright glow against the dark winter evening. She’s aware of the chill biting at her exposed skin but she can only think about who she is meeting.

           Once through the station’s lobby, with the parking lot in plain view, there she sees Steve leaning against his truck, his eyes already on her, his face breaking out in such a warm smile that it touches her even from the hundred feet still between them. As soon as the path is clear in front of her, Peggy races towards him.

  5.     Layer on Layer – Chapter 16 Epilogue Part 1

Summary: The one-year anniversary of meeting Peggy looms near. But anniversary celebrations are put on hold when the whole world goes to shit. 

He’s deep in concentration getting her warm brown eyes just right, the right shade, the touch of a knowing glimmer in them. He remembers the first time they locked eyes, across her bedroom, just down the hall from where he stood right then.

            He’s so deep in concentration, he doesn’t think twice at the sound of the front door opening and then when he hears footsteps approaching.

            “Hey Peg, aren’t you late?” he asks distractedly without looking up.

            “She sure is,” a voice that’s not Peggy’s startles him. He nearly drops his palette, tipping it over and paint gets on his bare chest.

            He looks up and sees Angie.

            “Sorry!” she cries out, and he notices she’s not looking at his face when he sets the palette down, trying to wipe at the pint on his skin. “Wow. This is a look. Go English!”

            Steve blushes, grabbing his rag and using it as a make-shift cover for at least part of his bare torso.

            “I thought you two were meeting at your hotel for drinks,” Steve said, reaching over to the couch for his shirt. Angie is still staring when he slips it on.

            “We were but she was running late. And so when she didn’t show I thought I’d see if we got our wires crossed and see if she was here. Sorry for scaring you. I still had my key, and I wasn’t thinking. I didn’t realize you’d be here.”

            “It’s okay,” he said. “I’m sure Peggy just got caught up or stuck in traffic. You know how her work is.”

            Angie nodded. “Yeah, she’s always going at a hundred miles a minute.” She stepped further into the room until she was right in front of the canvas. “You’re painting Peggy! You’ve been painting a perfect portrait of her half-naked looking like a Greek God. Unreal.”

            Steve blushed further. “It’s hot but I wanted the breeze and the sunlight filtering in so I turned the air conditioning off.”

            “Oh don’t apologize, Steve. This has been the best surprise to walk into. I can’t imagine how Peg handles coming home to this every day. You’re an amazing artist. That looks just like Peggy, down to that spark in her eye. I might need to hire you to paint me.”

            He laughed. “Free of charge Angie. Friends and family plan.”

            “You’re as sweet as a button, you know that?” She grins. “Must be some hell of a meeting English is stuck in for her to respond to my texts for like five hours.”

            Steve hummed, checking his phone.

            “Wait. What did you say? You haven’t heard from her in that long?”

             Something didn’t feel right to Steve. She hadn’t responded in that many hours? She always sent him responses if short ones within an hour or so, even at her busiest.

[theabominableblogger]

Rewatching “Gotham” S3E13

Cue all the “Face/Off” jokes for this arc.  All of them.

The rest of these reaction posts I’ll be uploading are not chronological order.  They’re like that because A) college and B) more college.

My sister watched it with me (as well as the other episodes left in my epic “Gotham” reaction series) so my comments will be in bold, and hers will be in regular font.  Author’s notes courtesy of me will be bolded and italicized. 

AN:   I managed to record our reactions to this episode and hopefully I can transcribe what I said into this post. 

*both immediately start fawning over Smol Bruce in the Netflix thumbnail*

“Previously on Gotham...”  Some bullshit.

SOME BS!

“What you call sanity... it’s just a prison in your minds.”  That is such an edgelord line, Oh my God!

*snaps fingers along with "Papa Oom Mow Mow” by Gary Glitter*

Why are they sampling “Elvira”?

AN:  “Elvira” by the Oak Ridge Boys actually sampled this song.  This version of the song is a cover and the original is by the Beach Boys.

“Three nines, and joker’s wild.”  *rolls eyes*

*sarcastically*  Geez, I wonder whose episode it is...

*laughs*

[Dwight appears]  *in best Christian Bale Batman voice*  Schmiff!  Thomas Schmiff!  He’s a paranoid schizophrenic from Arkham!

*starts mouthing along with song*

What just happened? 

They had to get in.

Yeah, I know, but how did that guy suddenly switch over to their side?

He was working for them the whole time.

OK.

*Dwight starts maniacally laughing once he finds Jerome’s body*  Oh damn... that’s a damn good laugh.

That is a really good laugh

*jams along with opening theme*

Does it open up with them stealing the body?  That better be where it opens up.

Yeah, it’s when they steal the body.

*smiles*

*Jim and Harvey find the empty vessel covered with the symbol*  Oh what the shit...

That's their little cult symbol.  Which has been popping up since a few episodes after Jerome’s death in S2, and you see that everywhere and you go “Wait a minute!”

*smiles when Lucius appears*

Is he security for Arkham or what?

No, he’s R & E.  Yeah, he still works for Wayne-

Ohhh OK...

-but he's like back up for Lee at the GCPD.

Oh OK.

And I’m like “Wait?  You’re also an ME?”  Everybody can be an ME in this show!

Everybody’s got like 15 different conflicts of interest on this show.

I know.

Nobody should be allowed to investigate anything.

*chuckles*

Where the hell are we?

That’s Wayne Manor.

I know that actor [who plays Cole] somewhere!  I know that voice!

I don’t know that actor.

AN:  He’s played by P.J. Marshall, who was in “Luke Cage” and was the cop that always got on Kit Darling in the first half or so of “American Horror Story:  Freak Show”

Alfred looks like he’s ready to punch a bitch.  *laughs*

He looks like he’s about to lay that guy the hell out.

I know.

And they established in the last episode that they [Bruce and Alfred] really like Selina and her mom coming back together.

Ohhh OK.

“Oh, no, no, no, no, no.  I [Cole] would never hurt a woman.”  *both give a dubious look*

“However, I [Cole] would feel justified in giving the police enough evidence so that your little girlfriend [Selina] could only talk to her mama every other Thursday through a screen for the next 40 years.”  Go to hell, dude.

*whispers*  He’s [Bruce] so much Batman!

“So, you [Bruce] give Maria the money, she gives it to me; I’m [Cole] out of your lives.  Cash, obviously.”  The only thing you’re owed, dude, is a bullet between the eyes.

Now see, look at this pose [of Bruce thinking in his chair].  Look at that pose.  Oh my gosh, that’s a Michael Keaton pose!

That is!

Oh my gosh...

“He [the cult follower Jim and Harvey arrested] should have been taken to a hospital.”  Oh yeah, and Jim and Lee are like *imitates two cats fighting each other while aggressively clashing hands together*

Why wasn’t he taken to a hospital?!?

“James Gordon.  The James Gordon.... wow.  It’s actually you.”  You sure know how to pick ‘em, Dwight.

Y’know, these extras playing the cult members must be having the time of their lives.  It’s like “Yeah!  We get to wear crazy hair and outfits!“

Oh yeah.  They’re gonna be like chewing the scenery within an inch of its life.

Oh yeah!

Look at that dude’s crazy eyes though!

I know!  He could have played Renfield in “Dracula”

I know.

*Dwight sets up his workshop with another cult member*  Looks like Rufio fell on hard times.

*Dwight strokes Jerome’s cheek*  Don’t do thaaattt....

Ohhhh my God.... LIFE!  LIFE, DO YOU HEAR ME?!?  GIVE MY CREATION LIFE!

LIIIIIIFFFFEEEEEE!!!

*both laugh*

*Dwight laughs*  Maniacal laugh... maniacal laugh...

GOD HE’S [Dwight] JUST HAVING SO MUCH FUN!  *laughs*

You know they’re getting paid like really well.

Oh I’m sure!

“’Unsurprisingly, there have already been calls "for the mayor's resignation. "The clearly disturbed Mayor Cobblepot-’”  ‘Clearly disturbed?’  HOW LONG did it take you to realize that?

“Mayor Crumblepot.”  *stifles a laugh*

“Is Ed here?”  *rolls eyes*

“Who cares what people think of the mayor?  The city runs itself.”  *chuckles*

You’re a dumbass!

“[Oswald] So get up, take a shower, do that disco vampire thing thing with your hair.”  *both crack up*

“[Barbara] Why are you helping me?”  Because you’re a walking garbage fire, Oswald, who needs all the help you can get.

*laughs*  Yes!

Get your priorities in order, Oswald.

*claps hands*  Duuuuuudde....

His [Bruce] voice is so deep and he’s such a smol bab!

I knowww!  I don’t know how old David is when they filmed this.  I think he’s like 16 or 17.

He’s a smol bab!

“Maybe they [the cult symbols] were here the whole time and we just didn’t notice..”   That’s probably a safe bet.

I’m pretty sure that’s the No Man’s Land map that they’re [Lucius is] using.

Niicee...

“That amount-”  “Would cause a power surge in the electric grid.”  “...I [Harvey] was about to say that would cause a power surge in the electric grid...”  *chuckles*

*chuckles*  Sure you were, Harvey.

“I’ll just... stay here... if that’s OK.”  Lucius, you’re amazing.

Feels like he’s the only person right now at the GCPD, besides Harvey, who has any common sense.

He’s great! 

Because I’m starting to really question what kind of goblins are currently inhabiting James Gordon’s brain.

It’s Season 3, I’m sure there’s a lot.

“Try turning it on and off.”  “I [Dwight] did!  3 times.”  *both laugh*

He’s the IT guy.

*laughs*  Have you tried turning it on and off again?

*pauses when Dwight electrocutes a guy for interrupting him*

Jesus God!  Was that a cattle prod?!?  What was that?!?

I don’t know.  Cattle prods are long and skinny though.

The hell was that?!?

They’re kinda like a fly swatter.

*Dwight starts cutting off Jerome’s face*  :[

Aauuuugghhh... nooooooooooo, we’re not doing this.

The production design and set for this [Dwight’s lab] is pretty cool, I gotta say.

Uh, somebody put that wire out before it sets fire to the whole place.

Oh please God!

“Holy smokes, is that Jerome?“  No, it’s Jeremiah.  *laughs*

Yeah, and they took his face...

*in unison*  Off!

*both laugh*

‘Cause they wanted to take his face...

*in unison*  Off!

*both laugh*

I couldn’t not, I’m sorry!

“Brothers and sisters, I [Dwight] promised you Jerome would return...”  *sing songs*  And I brought you his faaaccee!!

But it’s...

*in unison*  Off!

*both freaking lose it*

“The Prophet is here.”  But it’s just his face!

[breathing unsteadily]  *thumbs up*  Great.

“We are all... Jerome.”  Don’t think that’s gonna be good enough.

*The crowd takes to calling themselves Jerome*  Oh, OK.

“You’re Jerome.  And you...”  *laughs*  And you’re Jerome!  And you’re Jerome!  And you’re Jerome!

Oh, c’mon!  They were going for the obvious “I am Spartacus.”

WE ARE JEROME!  We are Jerome and so’s my wife!

OK, that actually worked better than I thought.

If he [Jerome] just gets straight off that [Lee’s] examination table, I am gonna flip shit!

:]

*points and yells excitedly when Jerome’s hand twitches*

“So, let’s find out who the traitor is, shall we?”  Jesus God...

“Good bluff.”  “Thank you, sir.”  That was awesome!

*softly*  I know...

And that was a bluff?!?

Yeah, there’s moments like that where it’s like “Man, Jim!  You’re a badass!” 

*chuckles*

*both chuckle when Barbara dramatically puts a hand to her chest*

“They don’t respect you, Oswald.  In fact, you probably want to kill Tommy Bones and the Duke.  Just clean house.”  *chuckles*

*both start to giggle when Oswald does*

“[Barbara] Do you really think I [Oswald] would be so easy to manipulate?”  YES!

YES!

YES!

YES YOU WERE!

YES!

You are not nearly as clever as you think you are, Oswald!  You are the Cersei Lannister of Gotham City!  You were down on the count for God knows how long.

For like an episode.

A lot happens in an episode!

True.  In the span of like 5 minutes probably.  I dunno, maybe like 10 or 15.

*shakes head*

“Your day is done, freak.”  *raises eyebrows in surprise*

“Then Nygma dies.”  “What?!?”  “Walk away quiet.  Maybe we’ll send him back in one piece.  We’ll even let you [Oswald] keep being mayor.”  *shakes head*  Hey look, you are that easy to manipulate.

Can we like take a shot every time Penguin goes into rage spitting mode?

Yeaaahhhh!!

Oh my gosh.  Take a shot!

See, Barbara just played you [Oswald] like a freaking fiddle, dude.

I’m sorry... the schadenfraude of it all.

*both end up discussing the correct pronunciation of ‘schadenfraude’

*mutters*  Freaking Germans...

*laughs*

I’m German [descent], I can make fun of myself.

He’s [the mole] doing a Batman voice.

“No one ever stops being a cop.  You [the mole] were here when Jerome and the Maniax attacked.”  ‘Maniax?’  That’s what they’re calling themselves?

Well, Jerome and his little group [in the beginning of S2] were like *in best Jerome voice*  “We’re the Maniax!” and whatever.

‘Maniax,’ with an X.  Because edgy.

No one can spell!

*Jim decides to switch from good cop to bad cop on the mole*  Oooh!

*Jim punches the mole across the face*  Jesus God!

*both freeze in shock when Harvey takes over for punching*

OH MY GOD, Jim’s just like *puts hands on head*  “Oh my God...”

I don’t think you’re allowed to do thaaat...

I mean, they bring it up in the show.  There’s certain interrogation laws that you have to follow.

Yeah, manhandling a suspect is a no-no!

“Damn...”  Damn instead.

She’s [Lee] like “Yeah, whatever.”  STONE COLD!

“[Jim] Don’t touch me [Lee]!”  *so done*

“Really?  Did I [Lee] not just see Harvey punch him in the face?”  *finger guns at screen in agreement*

“[Jim] You brought a wounded suspect into the precinct instead of taking him to the hospital, because you wanted to interrogate him.”  *claps hands with each word*  GO OFF, LEE!

Yes!

“Look, you [Lee] want to blame me [Jim] for Mario’s death, that’s fine.”  *so done*

“But don’t let your hatred of me turn you into something you’re not.”  And plus the funeral for Mario was a few days ago.

*claps hands with each word*  It’s way too soon!  It’s way too soon for her to be back at work!

I’m like “Lee, no!”

*sings*  Take a break!

Like I said, all of her character development comes from people screwing her over.

I know!

“[Jim] Don’t ever touch me [Lee] again or tell me what to do.”  You know, it’s your fault, Jim.  This is entirely your fault.

Yeah. It is.

“We’ve got a show to do, people!  And, as you know, the show must go on.”  *starts singing “The Show Must Go On” from “Moulin Rouge”*

*Jerome surprises Lee from behind the door*  Oh Jesus.

It’s allliiiiivveeee!!

“Hey, maybe you’re [Jerome] dreaming.  Try shooting yourself.”  Pfftt!

“Nah!”  *both chuckle*

*mouths along with Jerome saying “Lunatics AND idiots?”*

“You know, I [Jerome] was just reborn.  Last year was nothing but darkness... as far as the eye could see.”  *softly*  God, you’re so edgy.

“Hey, did you and I ever, uh...”  *slightly disgusted, trying not to laugh*

*scoffs in hilarity*  Did he just use the gun-

Yeah, yeah he did.  *ends up giggling anyway*

Oh my God...

AN:  And it was totally improvised at the moment by Cameron.  Because OF COURSE HE DID.

AN:  Hi, welcome to my blog, where we have to keep kinkshaming Cameron Monaghan.

*both make loud disgusted noises when Jerome tries licking Lee*

“How’s it going between you [Lee] and Jimbo?”  It’s not.

“Oh that’s a shame.  I really liked you guys.”  *giggles into her sleeve*

Jerome shipped it.

*absolutely cracks up at Jerome’s reaction when Lee tells him about Jim killing Mario on her wedding night*

He’s like “Whhaat?!?”

Oh my God....

“I see your point.”  *scoffs in hilarity*

“Theo Galavan’s dead.”  *sighs*  For how long?

“Ohhhhh.... who beat me to it?”  “W-Which time?”  *giggles*

Oh just wait until you get into the regular Batman canon.  Death is gonna be about as permanent as a hiatus.

It always looked like it has rained in this city!

They should shoot in Seattle for now on.

Didn’t I tell you [Cole] to go to hell the last time, dude?

“Hey.... smile!”  No.

No!  Bullshit.

No.

“Selina!  Please... don’t.”  Yes.  Do!

*cracks up when the cult members write down Dwight’s speech on giant note cards for him to use*

“The cult will never follow you, Dwight.  I [Jim] saw you... at the theater?  You don’t have what it takes!”  Oh.  Really?

“Well, for the record, you’re doing one thing Jerome never did:  boring me.”  *both lean back in shock*

Whoooooooooo hooo hoooooo!!

Daaammn!  That was pretty great.

Ohhh my God!

See, James, when you’re not being a complete dumbass-

He’s amazing!  He’s great!

“We’ve [Barbara and Tabitha] got Option A:  appeal to their reason, convince them we alone can protect them from Penguin-”  “Seems unlikely.  They are men.”  Pfft!

*both crack up when “Ave Maria” starts playing when Tabitha guns down all the other gang leaders*

“Yeah, yeah, Option B.”  *chuckles*

*Dwight goes on air with Jerome’s face on*  That’s creepy as shit!

That is really creepy, just the [gesture Dwight did when he corrected himself]

“Look at that.  No charisma, no stage presence.”  I dunno, he’s [Dwight] doing pretty well.

*laughs reading the news bulletin bars on the TV being changed to ‘HahAhaHAhaHA’*

Oh my God!

Jesus God, where are all those wires attached to?!?

I don’t know...

If he [Jim] shoots his [Dwight’s] ass on live television, that would be the most karmic thing...

*Jim and the Strike Force infiltrate the studio*  Oh my God!

*Jim tackles Dwight to the ground*  Boom!  Hoo hoo!

That was a great quick panning shot.

Niiice...

*in dramatic voice*  Meanwhile at W Manor...

*raises eyebrows in shock when Selina tries to goad Bruce into fighting her*

“You know, the only reason she [Maria] came back to Gotham, the only reason she tracked me [Selina] down... was you [Bruce].”  Here’s my question:  how did she know her daughter and Bruce were a thing?

Yeah, that doesn’t add up.

How did that happen?  How did she figure that out?

*laughs at all the fans telling Dwight they love him*

This actor is having the time of his life.

Oh, he totally is.

“Where’s Dwight?”  “I saw a uni walking him that way.”  Ohhhh...

*Jim and Harvey find a dead cop*  Ohhh what is that [sticking out of the dead cop’s chest]?!?

Oh my God!

What is that?!?!?

*both yell and reel back in horror when Jerome starts stapling his face back on*

And that’s a prosthetic.

Jesus God.

And he [Jerome] actually sounds different from the first time we saw him because Theo stabbed him in the neck [in S2] and it hit his vocal cords.

Yeeeppp...

“Say... you’re not mad, are you?”  “Mad?  What could I [Jerome] possibly be mad about?”  ��Y’know, the whole... cutting off your face...”  Pfft!

“Oswald?”  *leans back in surprise*

*Oswald loses contact with Ed*  Ed’s probably like “Hell yeah!” and snaps the phone.

*chuckles*

“Kane Chemicals!  Let’s go!  Move!”  You are walking right into a trap, Oswald.

“Hi.  Some you you may know... I died.”  *scoffs in hilarity*

“Tonight, Gotham, in the darkness... there are no rules.”  You keep pulling out these edgelord lines!  I know you can do better than that, dude.

“I [Jerome] don’t forgive you [Dwight] for my face.”  *tries to stifle a laugh*

“We need a bird [chopper] to go now!”  You guys aren’t gonna make it!  You’re not gonna make it!

*pops hand toward screen when the power plant blows*

*All the power goes*  Ohhhhhh schnap.

Oh shit!

*Closing title pops up*  Ohhh hoo hoo....

*reels back in surprise*  OK...

OK...

ONTO THE NEXT EPISODE!

[agentmarymargaretskitz]

Imagine an AU where Shado didn't die and Slade is just the grumpy mercenary uncle to everyone's kids, including Len and Sara's.

Oh my gosh, yes! Just think about it…(and prepare for an overly-long post)

Slade wakes up after getting the Mirakuru treatment a little earlier than he did in canon. He arrives at the site where Oliver’s being forced to choose between Sara and Shado and hears everything. As Ivo’s counting down, Slade strikes and fights Ivo’s lackies, while the man himself escapes with the Mirakuru. The quartet regroup to plan their next move, and that’s when they decide to stage their attack on the Amazo.

So they attack, but Ivo’s dosed up the men, and himself (just roll with me here, folks) with the drug so they’re ready to fight. They get Anatoli and Michael (I think his name was Michael, it’s been a while since I watched that) and the other prisoners off the boat, but the Amazo sinks in the process. Sara gets swept away, and so does Oliver. Slade watches the latter get sucked away from him, and puts an arrow through Ivo’s eye to honor his lost friend, thinking he’s ended it once and for all.

Shado, Slade, and the survivors make it back to the Island, find the Russian sub, and Michael sacrifices himself with the torpedo so they can get out and back to the real world. They get some provisions beforehand, and Shado does what she can for those who had been experimented on by Ivo. When they get to civilization, they all go their separate ways. However, Slade experiences the mental effects of the Mirakuru, and Shado takes notice of them. They find a person who helps create a cure for Slade. Once that happens, Shado decides to go to visit her sister and try to get back to finishing med school, and Slade returns to Australia. Both agree to keep in touch, and they do.

Flash forward three years later- Slade gets a call from Shado telling him to turn on the news. He does, and finds out that Oliver Queen has been rescued from the island of Lian Yu. There’s some guilt that he goes through, knowing that he left Oliver behind, and he decides he might take a visit to the States soon. Of course, as he’s planning this, he heard about this hooded vigilante that’s been running the streets of Starling City and he KNOWS that it’s definitely Oliver because he only knows two archers and one is currently one of the finest doctors in China while the other is in Starling. Kid’s an idiot, and Slade doesn’t get why he’s doing this until the Undertaking.

After the Undertaking happens, Slade steps up his surveillance of Starling, and starts hearing whispers of a woman in black who beats up men who beat women. He ends up arriving in Starling around Christmas, and Oliver’s thrilled to see him since there’s no bad blood between the men since Shado never died. Oliver introduces him to everyone- Diggle’s impressed and Felicity remarks that it’ll be great to get help out in the field since Sara’s a bit iffy at the moment. That’s how Slade finds out that Sara’s alive too and he’s relieved. Once all the touchy feely mushy crap’s out of the way, he helps out in the field and tells Diggle and Felicity a lot of stories about him, Shado, and Oliver on the island (some are definitely to embarrass Oliver). When he finds out that there’s Mirakuru in Starling City, he decides to extend his stay. 

Sara comes back, cue another happy reunion (he approves of Sara and Nyssa), but it’s jarred by the return of Anthony Ivo. They call Shado up about it, and she decides to fly over (after making sure her sister is safe) because all hands on deck might be needed to deal with him, and safety in numbers is a good idea. Ivo does end up killing Moira, and the events of S2 proceed with Slade and Oliver taking out Ivo and sending him into a hole on Lian Yu. Sara goes back to the League, and Slade and Shado head back to their own respective homes. Slade does leave Oliver with a parting remark to get his head out his ass and tell Felicity that he likes her.

Slade stays in touch with Team Arrow. He hears about Sara Lance’s death, the birth of baby Sara, the return of Thea, and Oliver going to face Ra’s. (Shado goes over to the US again somewhere during all of that and trains Laurel because she heard that Oliver refused to, and she also helps Laurel deal with her grief over Sara) Slade also hears about this red streak in Central City and the rise of powered people, along with the sighted team-up between the Arrow and the Flash. After he finds out who Barry is (which happens eventually. Sorry, Barry, but you’re the worst at keeping who you are a secret) and they meet, Barry asks Slade if he ever shot Oliver in the back with arrows. Slade just throws his head back and laughs at that while Oliver mutters that Barry’s making a big deal out of it.

He also does meet Ray, and is stoic throughout Ray being a big ol’ puppy while thinking that Oliver probably needs surgery at this point to get his head out his ass about Felicity, and she might be needing some too. But when Diggle lets him know they finally got their act together, he’s incredibly relieved.

Slade meeting Team Flash also happens. Cisco coins the name Deathstroke for him (shhh he would) after seeing him in action. Caitlin doesn’t get to know him very well, but she is curious about his experiences with the Mirakuru. To Slade, Team Flash is a group of puppies that he knows are going to be hurt by the darkness of the world. He never liked Harrison Wells from the press he heard about him (so finding out he was an evil speedster made sense once he got over him being from the future), and he and John complain about things getting complicated with other Earths. Harry does tell Slade about his doppleganger, and when he meets HR, Slade finds his patience is being tested to the extremes in dealing with this man.

Originally, when Sara comes back from the dead, he’s not pleased with Laurel. In fact, he comes back to Star City when he hears about it. Animal!Sara attacks him at one point too before going after Thea. He’s there when she gets her soul back, and he helps in the dealings with Darhk.

When Slade meets Team Legends, that’s a fun experience. He can just tell it’s a group of walking misfits, yet somehow they’re sticking together and getting stuff done. Slade’s happy to see Sara again, and that she’s doing fine and kicking ass. He’s fine with Ray now, and Nate since they’re both from the same strain of puppy-dog human hybrid. Amaya, he gets on well with, although her being from the past is a little strange. Stein and Jax, he doesn’t know them well but they get along too. Rip is impressed to meet Slade Wilson (but Rip never tells Slade that he almost recruited him), and they’re civil. The reincarnation thing with Kendra throws him a little, as do the wings, but she’s not bad in his book. But when he meets Leonard and Mick, ho boy, that’s memorable. Leonard (who may or may not have lifted Slade’s wallet the first time they meet) isn’t a fan of Slade, and vice versa. As for Mick, those two don’t say anything aside from glowering at each other. It takes an alien invasion before Slade finally gets along with Mick and Len, but it happens and he decides they’re not so bad (because Leonard is definitely alive and Slade is brought along to help out against the Dominators- he freaks a little when Cisco and Barry arrive).

Slade meeting Kara is, well, you can only imagine.

But he’s definitely the grumpy merc uncle to all the kiddos. Whenever he visits, Sara or John (depending on the timeline- f*ck you, Barry Allen, for erasing Sara Diggle) is always excited to see him because his accent is cool. The lil Olicity kiddos love him because he tells all the funny stories about their father, who facepalms while Felicity smirks. With Len and Sara’s kids (speaking of which, he can’t believe that they’re a thing until he sees it for himself and realizes they makes sense), Slade is fully aware that these kids are going to grow up to be dangerous. He offers to teach their daughter how to throw a knife when she turns eight, but she shakes her head and goes “Mom already taught me”. Hell, he even meets Barry and Iris’s twins a couple times and they think he’s a little scary but cool.

Basically, in this AU, Slade is a helpful, grumpy, merc-turned-hero who is like the superhero grandfather since he helped train Oliver, the one who started all the madness. Shado is alive who also lends her services when needed and is loved by everyone.

(Feel free to add to this if any of you want)

[planetsam]

@casualcloudlighttrash Not sure if you are taking prompt buts if you are Post S2 prompt: I just want to see Alex quietly singing/humming The Song to Michael. Maybe Michael's hurt and in pain or they've both had a really emotional event happen and are totally drained from crying. I want that song to be a source of comfort. My partner isn't an amazing singer but I still find it really comforting when he sings to me and I like to think Michael and Alex eventually get to that point too.

It doesn’t work like the movies.

A lot of things aren’t like the movies, and Alex says that as someone who spends his days surrounded by aliens and working for a top secret government outfit. He’s wished things were like the movies before. Computers were as easy, the military was as interesting state side, that love and families worked the same way.

That CPR worked that way.

“Come on, Guerin, stay with me,” he mutters.

That’s the bitch about CPR. It’s life preserving. But that’s it, it preserves. No matter how many of Michael’s ribs he breaks, no matter how long he spends putting his body weight into pumping his heart, unless someone with an AED or Max shows up soon, Alex knows he’s going to lose him.

The priority is chest compressions but Alex can’t take any risks with Michael’s mind. Not after he just started college classes. There’s nothing romantic about breathing for Michael and Michael isn’t going to respond but Alex desperately hopes as he pushes air into Michael’s lungs before returning to pumping his chest. This is the most physical contact they’ve had in months and he tells himself he’s imagining Michael’s body temperature is cooler.

“Michael!”

Max’s scream makes all the hairs on the back of Alex’s arms stand up. He looks over at the doppelgänger and prays that this is the right Max. Michael was sure. Alex has no choice but to trust him. He breathed for Michael again as Max drops to his knees before he shoves himself backwards. Only a law of physics could get him to pull back as Max claps his hands against Michael’s chest. Electricity jumps and Michael’s body goes tense. He doesn’t jump but as Alex stares his chest moves on it’s own.

“Hang on,” Max says, “you’re okay,” and he focuses on healing him.

Michael coughs with healed lungs and ribs and then inhales deeply, his eyes opening. Horror fills his features as his brain catches up and he shoves himself upright, looking between Max and the doppelgänger, the doppelgänger and Alex. Alex doesn’t know what happened but the blank horror in Michael’s eyes makes his worry increase instead of retreating. Michael grabs for Max and winds up half in his lap, his hands fisted in Max’s shirt as Max holds him tightly.

“You’re okay,” Max repeats. Michael blindly shakes his head, “yes, you’re okay,” he says.

“I killed him,” Michael chokes out, “he said he knew i had it in me!”

Alex forces himself to look at the body. It’s identical to Max, right down to what he’s wearing. His chest is caved in and his neck is bent. Alex hopes that Michael crushed his chest and he suffered. He listens to Michael sob and hopes the doppelgänger was scared. Before he stopped Michael’s heart. Alex doesn’t want to touch him but more than that he doesn’t want Michael to wind up at the police station.

“Get him out of here,” he says to Max, “I’ll take care of this.”

“What? No—“

“Yes,” Isobel appears suddenly, taking in all the info before turning to Alex, “we’ll take care of this,” she looks at Michael, “you take care of him.”

He and Isobel work quickly to dispose of the body. Thankfully between the two of them and her alien powers, it goes fast. Alex isn’t sure if this is a thank you situation. When he opens his mouth, Isobel closes her eyes and then furrows her brow. Alex knows enough about freaky twin powers to know what’s going on. The worry doesn’t ease. She looks over at him.

“We need to go,” she says.

“We?” He asks, his heart jumping, “what’s wrong with Michael?”

“He’s unresponsive.”

Alex barely remembers the drive to Max’s house. When he gets there with Isobel, Max barely acknowledges them and brings them back to his room. Michael is sitting on the bed staring blankly ahead. His curls are limp and dripping onto the towel around his shoulders. Another is around his hips. Max’s handprints dot his chest but there’s one in the middle of it that is darker and angrier. It looks like a burn. The skin around it is raw like Michael’s tried to scrub it off.

“I got him clean but he just stopped,” Max says, dragging his eyes from Michael to Isobel, “can you—“

“I think we should let Alex try,” isobel says. Max looks surprised and even in her worry, Isobel manages to look exasperated. She softens when she looks at Alex, “come on, let’s get some acetone in you,” she says, steering Max down the hall, “Michael will be fine, he’s with Alex.”

Alex wishes he had as much trust in those words as she seems to.

He steps inside and closes the door behind him, walking over to Michael. The only acknowledge Michael makes of his presence is to close his eyes and try to make himself smaller. Alex crouches down in front of him. He can feel the pain radiating off Michael but he doesn’t know if it’s one particular thing or everything that has just happened.

“Can I touch you?” He asks. Michael lets out a shaky breath but nods, “we don’t have to talk,” Alex tells him and that gets Michael to relax, just fractionally. O

He starts with Michaels hair, using the towel to press as much water as he can out of it. He doesn’t know where Michael’s clothes are. He doesn’t want to see any of them again, though it’s Michael so he has a feeling they’ll make another appearance. It’s easy enough to find a pair of sweats and a hoodie and help Michael be steady as he gets them on.

“He looked at me like Max looks at me,” Michael blurts out suddenly, “he said he expected me to do it, like Max used to say when I wound up in prison,” he chews his bottom lip, “I feel different,” he stares at Alex, “why does it feel different?”

“You were dead,” Alex says, the words tasting like ash.

“Yeah but I’m not,” Michael bites his lip, “Max said killing changed him. Killing—“

“Hey, look at me,” Alex says, “did you love Max less? Or me less?” Michael shakes his head, “everything makes us different, that’s part of being alive.”

“I didn’t enjoy it,” Michael says, “he said I would but I didn’t.”

Alex nods. He’s killed people and the only joy has been in that they didn’t kill him or his unit first. But he doesn’t want to unpack the fine details and risk Michael going quiet again. Michael looks at the bed nervously and Alex knows that however much he needs sleep, the idea of closing his eyes must be unfathomable. Alex sits on the side of the bed and Michael stands there.

“I can’t—“

“Just sit,” Alex says, “please.”

Michael warily approaches him and then sits, leaving a good foot of space between them. Alex can follow the logic that it’s better for Michael to be around family. That hopefully the smell of Max will make any nightmares he has about killing him go away. If he could Alex knows Michael will sit there all night, stubborn until the end.

“You need to sleep,” Alex says.

“Yeah,” Michael replies. He hesitates, “can you—“

“I can stay,” Alex tells him.

There’s a shift and he isn’t sure who moves first or how he winds up with Michaels head in his lap. He exhales at the warmth of Michael’s head on his thigh. He doesn’t seem to be alone in his need for physical contact, even though he knows Michael doesn’t remember him giving cpr. Michael exhales shakily against his jeans. To his completely surprise he sees him relax more. Like maybe Michael’s also missed them touching these past few months.

He starts to sing.

Alex hasn’t sung the song he wrote in a long time. There have been other songs but this one has stayed tucked away, waiting for the right time. Michael trembles against him and Alex isn’t sure if it’s tears or shower water that dampens his jeans, but he keeps singing. Until Michael’s breathing turns even and he drifts off. It’s a miracle that he feels safe enough to do it. Alex wasn’t sure that they would ever be able to find that safe place again.

The door cracks open and Isobel tip toes in, looking purely relieved at the sight of Michael asleep. She focuses on him for a moment longer.

“I just made sure he’d stay asleep,” she says to Alex, “come on, you need some food.”

“I don’t want to leave him,” Alex admits.

“I know, you can come right back.”

Alex doesn’t know why he follows her and manages to get down food. It should feel like he’s an interloper but instead he feels like he belongs. Like Michael is always where he’s belonged. He looks over his shoulder to see blankets and pillows stacked on the couch.

“I figured you two could take the bed,” Max says.

“I—“ Alex stops and nods, “thank you.”

Max nods back at him. Michael is the one who died and the one who killed him, but Alex knows he’s never going to forget the feeling of keeping Michael alive. He’s grateful that they both seem to get it. It’s not something Alex is sure he could explain. When he gets back to the room he takes off his jacket and his shoes and gets into bed with Michael. Isobel said he wouldn’t wake up so Alex knows he’s not disturbing him by putting his arms around him.

“Alex?” Michael mumbles.

“Sorry, I—“

Michael grabs his hands before he can pull them back and keeps them close.

“S’fine,” he says.

Alex breathes until his heart rate is back down. Thankfully that doesn’t seem to wake Michael up. Neither does Alex finding a comfortable spot so he’s not smothered by the riot of Michael’s curls. It’s awkward to make the pieces fit together, edges have changed and things don’t go exactly where he remembered them as being. But he  figures it out. They fit differently but they still fit. The pieces still want to be together. Alex has never met a fight he didn’t want to be a part of. And he’s sure in the morning there will be more to talk about.

But for tonight, he let pieces be together.

[planetsam]

Listen to me, no, you were not aware Michael, this was not you. I know you'd never hurt meYou could never." Alex pleads with panicking Michael. So you know how the synopsis of S2 says Michael sort of spirals, how about drunk angry Michael losing control over his power and accidentally hurt Alex in the bunker and when he wakes up the next day with Alex sort of plastered protectively to his side with a big bruise to his side he's left horrified.

“So,” Dr. Julia looks at the pair sitting in front of her, “why don’t you tell me what brings you in?”

Neither of them want to be there, she can tell that much just from looking at them. It’s not unusual. Not among the men who come through her office and especially not among the rare same sex couple who seek her out. Michael Guerin and Alex Manes both sit on the couch, Michael perches like he’s about to run at the first opportunity and Alex stares her down like she is going to report anything he says. When people come in with bruises and defiance and a partner, she’s immediately concerned.

“I got drunk and hit him.”

Michael speaks bluntly and rubs the raw knuckles of his left hand. She notes the pink and torn skin, like he’s rubbed them with a nail cleaning brush. Alex looks at him, seemingly just as surprised that Michael has spoken first. Michael has sad eyes, red with the tell tale signs of crying and lack of sleep. He can’t look at Alex and she holds his gaze with her own as he continues.

“I lost my mom and my brother,” he continues, “it doesn’t make this better. I drank and last night I was really drunk and—“ he shudders, “I hit him.”

“He thought I was my father,” Alex follows up and Michael lowers his head, curling into himself, “my father was homophobic. Michael was confused.”

“That doesn’t make this better,” Michael snaps and looks at her, “tell him it doesn’t make this better. He doesn’t believe me.”

“She is not going to tell me that,” Alex says.

They both look at her, Alex still defiant and Michael has desperation painted all over his face. Alex doesn’t want to be here but thinks this can help. Michael doesn’t want to be here and thinks she can end this. And there’s more about Alex’s father that somehow plays a role. Abuse always makes her wary, it’s rare that a first time incident has the couple coming in for counseling. Michael looks desperate to get Alex away from him, the question is if he’s willing to be equally desperate to build a healthy relationship with him.

“I’m not going to take sides,” she tells them, “I’m here to facilitate this conversation,” she frowns as Michael gives a curt nod and gets up, “Michael please sit down.”

“I can’t just sit here and pretend like I didn’t hurt him!” Michael says.

“I’m not asking you to do that,” she says, “I’m asking you to sit with your partner and discuss what happened.”

She’s not expecting Michael to look so sick instantly. The color seems to drain out of his face as his eyes move everywhere in the room before settling on Alex. Alex has gone the opposite and his cheeks are flushed with red.

“You told her we were together?” He demands.

“We’re about to be!” Alex defends and then looks at her, “look, we are about to be together. Then this happened—“

“No, no,” Michael cuts in and comes back over, dropping into the chair, “I have been a drunk asshole for the past few months. He is supposed to be away from me. Hitting you undoes everything—“

“No it doesn’t!” Alex cuts in, “he’s grieving,” he says emphatically, “he’s not in his right mind.”

“That doesn’t matter!” Michael says, “So I’m just another person who hurts you? And that’s okay?” He shakes his head, “that’s not okay.”

Dr. Julia listens to the exchange quietly, discerning what she can. The two of them have slowly moved closer to each other on the couch, Michael is careful with his movements and Alex is respectful of his distance, but they shift and lean until they are closer than they were at the start. Instead of focusing on her they’ve started to focus on each other. It’s clear there’s a communication issue they keep running into, both desperate to get their point across and both unable to hear what they’re trying to say.

“I’d like to try something,” she says. They both snap towards her, “Alex why don’t you tell Michael how his behavior makes you feel? Michael I just want you to listen.”

“I’m scared for him,” Alex says. She nods towards Michael. Alex looks at him, “I’m scared for you. I’m scared you’re becoming everything you hate in the world. I’m scared that I did this to you. That it wasn’t just you thinking I was my father, that it’s me you hate,” Alex relaxes a tiny bit, like the weight is a little less. He lays his hand over Michael’s, “I’m scared we’re never going to be okay with each other. After everything—“ he hesitates, “I’m scared we’re just going to punish each other until we hate each other.”

Michael looks crestfallen. Dr. Julia imagines that Alex hasn’t ever actually said things in those words. Tears break free and he scrubs his cheeks with one hand, the other still under Alex’s. Alex twists back and grabs the box of tissues.

“Micheal, what do you want to tell Alex?” She asks.

“That I’m sorry,” Michael says, “I never wanted to hurt you. I wanted to see if you were gonna leave and—“ he wipes under his cheeks, “I didn’t want to hurt you.”

“I know,” Alex says.

“But I did,” Michael says. Instead of getting up he looks at her, “sorry doesn’t fix it.”

“No,” she agrees, “but committing to your relationship and working through this will be a good step,” she says, “striking your partner—“

“He didn’t strike me,” Alex says. They both look at him, “I just want to be clear. He didn’t clock me.”

“Any type of physical confrontation is not how you communicate,” she says, “not in anger. Michael we need to discuss your addiction and your grief,” she continues, “you need to get sober.”

“I know,” he says, “I don’t know where to start—“

“I’ll give you a referral,” she says, “we can find a place to start,” she looks at Alex, “I would like to discuss the possibility of you joining a group for domestic abuse survivors,” she tells him.

“No,” Alex says, “I’m not—“ he stops as Michael shifts his weight and looks at him, “I’m not!” He protests again.

“Michael, if Alex doesn’t feel comfortable that’s alright,” she says, “group support is not for everyone but it is something I would like you to give some thought to before you say no.”

Alex ducks his head in a slight nod. Michael looks desperate for him to go and get help. Only their still clasped hands and body language seems to communicate the fact that they want to be here. She wonders if either of them have been to actual therapy before or what their experience with it is. She lets them have their moment before clearing her throat lightly and drawing their attention back to her.

“Before we wrap this up, I’d like you to tell me why you said that you were partners and Michael, why did you react the way you did? Alex, let’s start with you.”

“I love him,” Alex says, “I’m not a saint in this relationship I’ve messed up too,” he says, “we went on our first date a few days ago. We joked about it but I was happy,” he says, emphasizing the word, “happy that were getting that chance to do things right. I’m not willing to just give up. But I want us to be partners in this.”

Dr. Julia looks at Michael who looks similar to how he did when she said that before. Pale and surprised. He looks young in a very sick way. She watches him tentatively settle his hand over Alex’s and twist towards him.

“I didn’t think you’d want to be with me after what I did,” he says, “I don’t know if you should—“ he shakes his head, “but I love you, you know? It’s always been you. I don’t want to give up on it either.”

“Where was the date?” She asks.

“At the Dennys,” Alex says.

“We gotta have a better first date,” Michael mutters, turning red.

“I like that being our first date,” Alex says, covering his hand with his own.

Dr. Julia gives them their referrals and sees them out, making her notes on the session and booking the next one. She’s sad when they cancel and surprised when they reschedule for a week later. She finds them in the waiting room. Michael looks horrible in that way someone whose been through detox recently looks. He’s curled into himself. Alex’s bruise is nearly gone. He’s got one hand around Michael’s shoulders, talking to him softly. They both look when she steps out and get to their feet. Their hands find each other.

“Come on back,” she says, “it’s nice to see you both again.”