#anyway here are my sad michael guerin feelings

[pastelwitchling]

If you’re still taking prompts can I please request anything involving Malex and Sanders..? Because Sanders is just the best and he’s so happy that Michael is happy! I feel like he and Alex would get along really well and team up to give Michael grief hahahaha this is a very vague prompt but there’s that Sanders gif set going around and it’s giving me all the feels 💛💛💛

***

When Alex got a knock at his door, he hadn’t expected to find none other than Sanders on the other side. He stilled, hand falling slowly off the doorknob. He didn’t know why he was shocked to see Sanders, but he thought he understood his own anxiety about being alone with the old man. This was, after all, as close to Michael’s father as anybody had ever been.

“Er, hello, sir,” Alex said at once.

Sanders raised a white brow and scoffed. “‘Sir.’ Boy, you really are military.”

“Ex,” Alex confirmed and stepped back. “Please, come in.”

“No, no, I, uh,” Sanders looked down at himself. “I just got back from the junkyard, I’m—I’m covered in grease—”

“Please,” Alex insisted, and his lips quirked into half a smile. “Unless you’ve forgotten, my husband’s a mechanic.”

Sanders looked down, away, and Alex understood how he could be uncomfortable. He himself didn’t really know how to react to a family member that wasn’t actively trying to kill him.

“Yeah, well,” Sanders cleared his throat, accepted Alex’s offer with a nod, and walked in past him. “I just realized I never gave you a wedding present,” he said when they got to the living room, and offered Alex the gift-wrapped box he’d been holding. “I know it ain’t much, but I think you could get some real use out of that.”

“Wow, thanks,” Alex said, albeit awkward himself. “You really didn’t have to.”

Sanders waved off his gratitude and gestured at the gift. “Go head, open it.”

So Alex did. It looked like a vase. With gears.

“Uh,” Sanders started, “it—it’s a—”

“Self-gardening mechanism,” Alex smiled. “Thank you, sir. I don’t have the green thumb Michael does, now I finally have a way to save the flowers he gets me.”

Sanders blinked, startled, and smirked. “You know your stuff, huh?”

“Michael loves everything to do with plants,” he shrugged. “I’m a quick study.”

He stared. “You really love ‘im, don’t you?”

“Always have,” Alex said. He looked down at his new gift, clearly made with a lot of care and detail. “I . . . I think I know why you’re really here too.” At Sanders’s confused look, Alex smiled sadly. “I know you probably don’t love the way I treated Michael at the beginning of our relationship. I . . . put him through a lot—”

“And he put you through a lot,” Sanders said, frowning. “Son, I ain’t heartless. I love that boy, and for the most part he’s a genius, but he can be a real dumbass when it comes to what means most to him. Which is why he talks back to me,” he said with a fatherly edge, then softened, “and hurts you so much.”

Alex started to shake his head. “H-He doesn’t—”

“Don’t you start now,” he heaved a sigh. “Where is the dumbass anyway?”

Alex couldn’t help but smile. Maybe it was because he knew Sanders meant it with an exasperated fondness. Maybe because Sanders was giving him permission to be angry and sad with the man he loved. Or maybe it was because no one had ever stood up for him and for it to come from Michael’s father felt like a kind pat on the head.

It’s okay to be upset, I’m giving you permission to be upset, he seemed to be saying.

“He’s getting some work done with Max and Isobel,” Alex said. “Something about Max’s work in Oasis.”

Sanders scowled. “And you’re not in on it?”

Alex fidgeted. “I, uh, overdid myself a bit at Deep Sky. I’m on Guerin’s version of a recommended house arrest. He’ll fill me in when he gets back.”

“Ah,” he nodded, “so you nearly worked yourself into a grave again, and Michael freaked out and forced you to rest, huh?”

“You’re pretty good at picking up on our dynamic, I see,” Alex tried for an amused smile, and went to set the vase on the kitchen counter.

Sanders said nothing as Alex busied himself with placing the sunflowers Michael had brought him just yesterday inside the new contraption. He watched as the gears turned and water filtered through from somewhere inside the vase. He smiled to himself. He’d seen every evil machine there was to see, he’d seen alien magic put to dark use. There was something refreshing about watching the workings of such a simple and good invention.

“You don’t owe anyone an apology, son,” Sanders said suddenly. His voice was softer than Alex knew it capable of being. “You ain’t your father and Michael knows that.” He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Despite what the beginning of your relationship looked like. He loves you, and he don’t need you to hurt yourself to prove you love him back.”

Alex kept his eyes on the sunflowers for a moment longer, then he looked to the vase. Then he smiled over his shoulder at Sanders. “He’s really lucky to have you, Walt.”

Sanders blinked, then looked away. He cleared his throat again. “Yeah, well. Mm.”

With a pat to Alex’s shoulder, Sanders turned to leave. Alex didn’t move away from the kitchen counter even as he promised Sanders that they’d come over tomorrow night for dinner. He didn’t move even as he watched Sanders head out. If he had, if he’d been proud enough of himself or believed enough of what Sanders had told him to see him out, he might’ve seen Sanders pull out his phone. He might’ve seen him text Michael with a smirk at his lips. He might’ve realized how honest Sanders had been with him.

But he hadn’t. Instead, he stood there, only able to hope that he meant as much to Michael as Sanders made him out to. In that same moment, Michael checked a text he’d just gotten from his father.

You’re luckier than you know, kid.

And then maybe it wouldn’t have surprised Alex at all that Michael had smiled at the words, knowing exactly what Sanders meant.

***

Happy Malex Monday ❤

[angrycowboy]

It’s sad Michael Guerin hours up in this blog. 

Okay, so. This moment. Michael has just spent two episodes thinking he was going to get answers. He starts out 1x12 talking about torturing Noah just to get them, only for Alex to show up and bring him along to a government alien torture facility where Michael finds his mother. The one person he’s literally spent his entire life looking for. He finds her, and then he accidentally triggers a fail safe that causes an explosion that kills her and everyone else in the facility. And Michael feels them die.

But Michael is so good, so practiced, in covering up his own trauma, the shit going on with him. He goes to Max’s, because Noah - Noah is still alive, he knows Noah has answers. It’s a bit of a single focus at that point. But Max - fuck - Max stops him. And I understand Max’s decision there, he wants Noah dead, and for good reason - but Max hasn’t spent his entire life trying to understand where they came from, why they’re on earth. Not like Michael has.

(Under the cut cuz my rambling got long.)

So of course, of course, in that moment Michael loses control. Fuck, I’m surprised it took that long for him to finally lose his grip on his abilities. And his plan isn’t exactly smart, but Michael isn’t exactly thinking straight he’s so fucking traumatized already. All he knows is that Noah knows where they’re from, Noah knows why their pods were put in the cave. Noah has answers. 

And of course, the whole thing goes to shit, and Michael bleeds out on the floor, and Max has to heal him, and of all the worst times in the world for Alex to show up, is in that moment with Noah on the loose and it’s a bad time. But it’s Alex, and he stops and he listens to Alex because fuck, Michael has never been able to say no to Alex. And Alex is talking about them, about their past, about things that have happened to them, and why he left, and Michael knows how important what Alex is saying is. He knows but there are other things happening, things that are more pressing, more important - in the grand scheme of things, he can put off Alex until the morning. Alex will still be there. They can talk later.

So Max kills Noah. And Michael is just - he lost this chance to get his answers. He knows it, and it’s already killing him, but he’s dealing with it. He’s not letting it show, because Isobel just watched her husband die. Isobel just told Noah she never loved him. Like, this is what Michael does - his problems aren’t as important, someone he loves is having it far worse than him, so he just pushes them down and supports Isobel. 

But Max, he’s riding high on lightning juice, and Noah is dead. This monster who did all these terrible things to Isobel, who killed innocent people, who controlled others into doing his bidding, is gone. “We are moments away from this guy being a bad memory,” Max told Michael earlier in the episode. Noah is gone, they don’t have to think about him anymore. But Michael, Michael is still talking about losing his chance at answers. And Max, he doesn’t understand, still doesn’t get it, why this is so important to Michael. They have the future now! They can do whatever they want! They’re free of this monster who messed with their lives since they were fourteen years old. 

So when Max says this, when he tells Michael the past doesn’t matter, its not malicious. But nevertheless, it hurts. Because Max is basically insulting everything Michael has spent his life working on, the research he’s done, the console he’s rebuilt, the spaceship he’s been designing. Earth has never been home to Michael the way it is for Max and Isobel. Humanity has never done a damn thing for Michael Guerin. All Michael has is the past because at some point in the past he was loved, he had a family, and someone cared about him.

So Max telling him to stop looking there? FUCK.

You get this moment, and Michael is just broken. Because then, as soon as Max says this, he grabs Michael’s hand and heals it. It’s been a decade that Michael has learned to live with these broken bones, with the spasms, and the pain. He told Max in 1x11, he kept the scars as a reminder for the future that there’s no good here, not for him. And Max took that away.

And then suzteel went and wrote these fucking... heartbreaking tags on my gifset about Michael saying “love is the worst thing that ever happened to me” and she’s right. Isobel is talking about Noah being the only person she loved, and yeah there’s some romantic implication in their conversation, but it would make sense that Michael is also talking about his mom. Love is the worst thing that ever happened to him - love brought him to Earth, love made him lose his mom, love made her put him in that pod, love made sure he was safe but it also is responsible for him being left alone, love made him try to free her at Caulfield, and love made him leave her in that cell to die. 

Michael has spent his entire life trying to embrace his alien side, and by the finale, it has only gotten him more pain. Is it any wonder after they find Rosa’s body, he’s saying they should try to be normal? Is it any wonder he ends up at the Pony? Maria doesn’t know any of this. She’s not tied to anything about his alien-side, and Michael is good at pushing aside his own problems and not dealing with them because there are other things that are more important, his are insignificant by comparison. So by going to her, it allows him to think that he’s moving forward. He’s embracing the future that Max talked about and leaving the past in the past. Because in that moment, Alex is part of that past, Alex has always been tied to it (both by the Manes family legacy and their own tumultuous relationship over the past decade), and as far as Michael knows in that moment, just loving Alex has never been enough. Hell, he and Alex have, as far as we know, never even talked about a future - a lot of their conversations, a lot of their relationship, is still stuck in what’s happened to them, not what it could be in the future. But Maria, that’s all they have, these feelings for each other, and he’s thinking that maybe without any of that interference from the alien-side of things, that maybe this is what Max is talking about. That maybe he can just be happy for once. 

Fuck. Bring on Season 2. I am going to be a complete fucking mess over this.

[justlightlysedated]

For the kisses prompts - #22 for Malex please 🧡

And thank you so much for finding the planetary alinement sequel fic for me 🧡🧡🧡

22. kisses in the rain

Alex is on the phone with Forrest, who calls him periodically every couple of days to talk about what he's doing, and Alex usually pays attention, or pretends to pay attention, but today he can't stop looking out of the window, at the rolling clouds, lighting up with flashes of lightning, the thunder rolls loudly, shaking the very vibrations of his house.

He watches the next flash of lightning and counts the seconds between it and the loud thunder.

Still a few minutes away, he thinks.

He's startled out of his thoughts by a loud knock on his door, and he hears Forrest, sounding a little pissed off, like he's been trying to get his attention but Alex isn't responding.

He picks the phone up, takes it off speaker, and puts it to his ear, mouth open to speak, but then the banging on the door sounds again, and Isobel Evans' voice, of all people sounds out, loud enough that it would have probably been picked up by the speaker.

"Alex! I know you're in there. I don't care if you're balls deep in that Nazi obsessed blue haired twink, we need to talk!"

"I have to go," Alex says, and hangs the phone up on Forrest asking him what's going on, and winces slightly, before he shrugs and drops his phone back on the counter.

He gets up from the couch, reaching for his crutch, since he hadn't been expecting any visitors, and starts to make his way to the door.

Isobel, of course, doesn't have the decency to let him open the door. She opens his locked door, practically blasting it off its hinges and she stalks into the house, eyes finding Alex immediately.

"Where is he?" She demands, stalking forward, one hand aloft, eyes sharp, like she's getting ready to pry the information out of his head if he doesn't answer fast enough.

"Who?" Alex asks, because he's well versed in Isobel enough to know that if she was talking about Forrest it would be in a mocking tone, not one that is tinged with desperation.

"Michael," she says in an obvious tone, and just hearing his name makes Alex's heartbeat spike. "He's been missing for days, and he only did that whenever he was holed up with you."

Alex shakes his head, feeling anxiety and worry bleed into him, "I haven't seen Michael since he walked out of Pony during my set, making it very clear what he thought about my song."

Isobel gives him an incredulous look, but Alex isn't sure what part of his statement she's having trouble believing.

"Over the last year the most contact we've had was text messages when he needed information, so if he's fucked off somewhere it definitely wasn't with me."

Isobel shakes her head, and she looks more irritated than anything, "God save me from my fucking oblivious brothers."

She turns to look back at Alex, "Max is dying. His new heart is failing, and he's known the whole time, and just let us know a few weeks ago. Michael isn't taking it well, and I thought that he'd come to you, but I'm guessing he knows about the Nazi obsessed blue haired twink that periodically warms your bed-"

"He has a name, you know?" Alex says, interrupting her, but Isobel continues speaking like he hadn't spoken.

"-which would explain his dive into the negative spectrum of emotions when he had been feeling pretty hopeful and anticipating your arrival."

Alex blinks at her, feeling confused, "He was hopeful?"

Isobel shakes her head at him, "But I was wrong. I'm wasting my time, because he'd never come here after a rejection."

"Rejecti-?" Alex starts to ask, feeling even more lost than before, but Isobel just turns around and heads back out of his house without even a wave of goodbye.

The slamming of the door coincides with a rumble of thunder, making Alex jump a little.

He hears his phone ringing back where he left it, and he knows that it's going to be Forrest.

A small part of him wants him to go back and answer the phone and explain about ex sort of sisters-in-law who don't know how to wait for someone to open the door, but there is an increasingly louder part of him that is yelling at him that he knows exactly where Michael is, that instead of offering his sort of boyfriend, sort of not boyfriend, any explanations, he should go and demand one from Michael instead.

Alex nods his head sharply and then turns to head to his room. If he's going out into that storm that's brewing, he's going to need to prepare himself.

-

Alex finds Michael at their spot off the Desert View dirt road that leads from town to Fosters Ranch. The truck is hardly visible to the road, but Alex knows exactly where it is.

Alex doesn't pay too much attention as he carefully parks his car next to the truck, and he turns off the car without looking to make sure that Michael was there.

He clenches his hands around the steering wheel and breathes in deeply, and then breathes out slowly.

And then he shakes his head and tells himself to stop being nervous or scared or whatever he was being right now, it was just Michael.

Alex lets go of the steering wheel, and gets out of the car, closing the door with a slam that gets swallowed up by the thunder that sounds immediately after the flash of lightning.

Alex breathes in deeply and closes his eyes at the smell of ozone filling the air.

Alex loves thunderstorms and when it rains so hard the smell of it permeates everything. It makes him sad and melancholy, but also fills him with a mellow sort of happiness.

It's Michael, in a scent that Alex can find anywhere. It's not as good as the real thing, but it helped whenever Alex faltered during the last year.

He looks at the truck, searching for Michael, staring into the cab of the truck, and jumping a little when he finds him sitting on the tailgate.

He looks like he hasn't moved in a while, and he doesn't even twitch when the thunder crashes again.

Alex takes him in for a moment. His face is being covered by his hat, but his clothes looked nicer than anything that Alex has ever seen him wear. Even in the dim light, he can tell that his jeans have no holes, and the sweater he's wearing actually looks soft, and like it actually fits him.

It makes something warm and fuzzy curl in the pit of his stomach, that Michael is doing good, that he's happy and well. Well, he's not really happy right now, if Isobel is to be believed, but from the small, unasked for updates that Kyle gives him whenever they meet up for beers, he knows that Michael hasn't been miserable or drinking like a fish or getting into bar fights or dating anyone.

Alex shakes his head to get rid of the last thought, because he knows better than to hope for anything. If the last three years, since he came back to Roswell the first time have taught him anything, it was that Michael was over him, and Alex just needed to get over it.

Which was much easier said than done.

Alex had thought that he had been making steps towards that, but he could feel the tips of his fingers tingling just from proximity.

Maybe this was a mistake.

As soon as he thinks the words, Michael turns and looks at him. His lips are parted like he was going to speak, and then he seems to realize that Alex was the one standing there, and not Isobel or Max.

Their eyes lock, and Alex feels his heart skip several beats, before it starts racing, matching his quickening breaths.

Lightning flashes and thunder crashes as they look at each other, and Alex has a feeling like something mystical, something alien is about to happen.

Alex walks closer to the truck and Michael doesn't move or say anything, just continues to stare at him, eyes too big, like he's not sure that Alex is real.

Alex sits down next to him and the truck moving up and down with Alex's weight is what snaps Michael's gaze away from him.

"Hi," Alex says, and his voice comes out breathless and quivering, but he pushes forward anyway. "It's good to see you."

"What are you doing here, Alex?" Michael asks, the question falling out of his mouth almost as soon as Alex finishes speaking.

"Isobel came to see me," he says, and Michael scoffs, looking at Alex and quickly away. "She said you were missing, and she thought you were at my place, and it wasn't until she left that I realized I knew exactly where you were."

Michael shakes his head, scoffing again, as he turns to give Alex a sardonic look.

"That doesn't answer the question. What did Isobel let slip 'accidentally' that made you come all the way over here, when you haven't bothered with a hello since you've been back?"

Alex bristles immediately at the implications in his tone, getting defensive, "I don't owe you anything, Guerin."

"I'm not expecting anything from you, Manes," Michael drawls, a mean smirk on his mouth.

Alex scoffs, "Really? Because it sure seems like you were expecting something."

Michael looks away at that, but Alex is just gearing up.

"Which is the part of all of this that is confusing me. I understand you coming out here and wanting to be alone because your brother is dying, again," Michael flinches at the words, and Alex wants to reach out and comfort him somehow, but instead he keeps talking.

"What I don't understand is you being hopeful about us and taking me being with someone else as a rejection. Michael, you were the one who ended things between us. You pushed me away and reminded me at every turn that while I wasn't like my family, I also wasn't what you wanted."

Michael is looking at him now, eyes wet with tears, brow furrowed, and he's shaking his head a little, like Alex is speaking about something that he doesn't understand.

He doesn't say anything in the lull of Alex's flow of speech, so Alex keeps talking.

"I am sorry, you know," he says. "About the song. I wasn't expecting you to be there when I was performing it. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."

"What?" Michael asks, sounding disbelieving, and he fully turns, tilting his head up a little so that he can see Alex's face clearly. "Why would you think that I was uncomfortable?"

"You walked in while I was in the middle of singing, and you left the second you realized exactly what the song was about. In conjunction with the fact that you'd just gotten your heart broken, I know you weren't walking into the bar expecting a declaration of love, and I'm sorry that I-"

"Alex," Michael says in a low voice, lowering his head just a little. "Stop apologizing."

Alex opens his mouth to speak, but stops when Michael reaches up and takes his hat off, tossing it to the side and ruffling a hand through his hair.

Without the hat, it's almost like a strip of armor that Michael had been wearing has come off, and he looks at Alex intently, "That's not why I left."

"Oh," Alex says, deflating. "Then why did you leave?"

Michael huffs out a humorless laugh, looking away.

"I thought I was doing what was best for us at the time. Maria had just broken up with me, and while I wasn't ready to jump into a relationship with you, I wanted things that I knew were selfish. And then I saw that Nazi obsessed blue haire-"

"So she got that from you?" Alex interrupts him, giving Michael an exasperated look.

Michael just shrugs unrepentant.

"I saw him there, watching you sing, and I just, I didn't think that in that moment, if given the choice, you'd pick me, not after everything that happened. So I left, because I wanted to give you the space to heal and to date whoever you wanted. But then I heard you were coming back home, and I don't know, I guess I couldn't stop myself from hoping that you were coming back for me."

Alex just stares at him, eyes wide, feeling like someone just turned his entire world upside down. He swallows hard, not really knowing how to respond.

"Michael, I-"

But Michael shakes his head, getting to his feet and standing in front of Alex.

"You don't owe me anything, remember?"

Alex just shuts his eyes, and inhales deeply.

After a couple of seconds where Michael just keeps staring at him, and the storm brews ever closer, thunder so loud and near that it reverberates through Alex's bones, he speaks again.

"I was ready, you know," he says, trying really hard to sound casual and failing. Alex opens his eyes to stare at him, but Michael is looking up at the sky, the flashes of lightning caught in his eyes.

"Or I thought that I was,” he continues, shaking his head and then looking back at Alex and jumping when he sees that Alex is looking at him. “I even went to meet you at the bus stop.”

“So that was you?” Alex proclaims, jumping down from the tailgate.

Michael looks embarrassed, cheeks flushed red, and it reminds him so much of the Michael that he fell in love with that he loses his breath for a moment.

“You noticed huh?” Michael says, making a face.

“I swore that I saw you through the bus window, but when I actually looked there was no one there, so I thought I just imagined it.”

“Well, when I saw your boyfriend there, I made myself scarce,” Michael says, a bitter tone to his voice, but he looks apologetic, so at least he’s self aware enough to know that he has nothing to actually be bitter about.

“Not my boyfriend,” Alex says automatically, and Michael just stares at him a bit incredulously.

Alex rolls his eyes and scoffs, “Like you’ve never had a booty call, Guerin.”

Michael raises both eyebrows at that, and gives Alex a mock shocked look, “I’m afraid I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

But he ruins the effect by smirking, and Alex can’t help it, he bursts out into laughter, the tension of the last couple of minutes draining out of him.

He’d thought maybe things between them would just be weird and stilted and painful, but so far it hasn’t felt anything like that. It felt easy.

Alex stops laughing and just grins at Michael, who is just staring at him with a look that Alex is very familiar with.

Alex’s smile dims a little as he continues to stare at Michael who breathes in deeply like he’s steeling himself for something.

“So, not your boyfriend, huh?” he says, taking a step forward.

Alex inhales sharply at the words, and licks his lips, shaking his head.

“So, if I kissed you right now, what would you do?”

Alex exhales a small disbelieving breath, his pulse racing and fingers tingling. Michael has never asked to kiss him before. He’s always just done it like he’s afraid that Alex will tell him no if he dares to ask.

Michael looks away, probably thinking that Alex meant that as a no, so Alex takes a step forward, and Michael freezes, eyes snapping back towards Alex.

“Why don’t you do it, and find out?”

Michael moves forward like he thinks that Alex is going to change his mind at any second, fingers pressed to Alex’s face as he tilts his head to the side and presses his mouth to Alex’s.

The move makes them stagger backwards a little, but Alex hardly notices as he pushes his fingers into Michael’s hair and holds on tight, keeping him close as he kisses him back.

The storm breaks at the same time, and the rain falls hard and cold, pelting them and soaking them almost immediately, but neither Alex or Michael care as they continue to kiss.

Michael digs his fingers harder into Alex’s jaw and kisses him harder, parting his lips and licking at Alex’s mouth. Alex wraps his arms around Michael’s shoulder, pulling himself in closer and opening his mouth to Michael’s.

Michael kisses him deep and just a little bit desperate, and Alex loses himself in it, thinking, this, this, this.

This is what he’s been missing. This is what’s always missing. Michael kisses him like Alex was created specifically for Michael to kiss. And Alex can’t help but surrender to the touch.

After what feels like forever and not long enough, Michael pulls away, panting heavily.

Alex blinks rapidly a few times, before he realizes that his vision is blurry because of the rain that is pouring down on top of them.

He looks up at the sky as lightning lights up the clouds and thunder rumbles, and he closes his eyes breathing in deep. Michael drops his forehead to Alex’s cheek, pressing his face along the side of Alex’s face and just breathing.

Alex just tightens his hold on Michael and breathes with him.

[litwitlady]

to make the desert bloom

The first time Michael pawns off a few feet of stolen copper wire he makes $68. He’s been totally swindled - the wire easily worth more than double that. But it’s enough to pay the remainder on his cell phone bill so he’s thrilled with the transaction.

A few months later Michael risks stealing a small spool of wire. He’s wised up about the wire’s worth, but still accepts a criminally low cash offer. But alongside the cash, he’s also negotiated a broken power drill. He has it fixed within the hour and that’s how his tool collection starts. 

Word gets around about the kid who practically gives away copper for nothing more than a few crumpled bills and some rusty old tools. Michael happily accepts broken wrenches, bent screwdrivers, and even a table saw with the cord cut off. He makes enough money to put gas in his truck and keep food on his table. And collects enough tools to supplement his income with various side-gigs.

By his twenty-first birthday, he’s even got $400 saved in his new bank account. His crime completely victimless, as far as he’s concerned. Old Man Sanders never once showing any interest in the piles of copper in the makeshift garage shed. What Sanders doesn’t miss can’t hurt him. And what Sanders doesn’t miss has saved Michael’s life on more than one occasion.

No one but his customers are aware of his scheme. A conman playing easily into the hands of lesser grifters. Until the day he overspends on one of Isobel’s birthday gifts.

She opens the newspaper wrapped box and immediately shoves the gift back into Michael’s chest. ‘You’re stealing now?’

He frowns down at the handwoven scarf. Realizes his mistake. And sighs. Because yes, he’s stealing now.

‘It’s not a big deal, Iz. Just some copper wire no one’s going to miss.’ He tries to give the scarf back to her, but she folds her arms across her chest and levels him with her deadliest glare.

‘Return the scarf, Michael. Give the money back to whoever you stole the wire from.’ Her face softens and she reaches out for his knee. ‘If you need money, I have more than I know what to do with. And we’re family.’

He kisses her cheek, shrugging off her offer. ‘I’ll be okay.’ 

She settles against him, interlocking their elbows and leaning her head on his shoulder. ‘You know I love you, right?’

‘I know. Me too.’ And it’s the truth. But he’ll never take her money.

That’s the last time he steals anything from Sanders for a long time. Until Alex Manes comes barrelling back into his life after his longest absence yet. 

They crash back together like always. Shacking up in his trailer for hours at a time, rediscovering each other’s bodies. And Michael allows himself to believe that they will finally make it happen this time. But then Isobel arrives with a bag of bagels and wakes him from his dream.

Once he’s able to shoo her away, he watches Alex practically fall out of the airstream in his haste to get away. Michael holds up the bag of bagels, but Alex shrugs him off and climbs into his Explorer. The engine whines - needing a new timing belt - as he flees from the junkyard.

Michael eats all six bagels and then steals the largest spool of copper he can find. It’s almost like he wants Alex to catch him. You’re wasting your life, Guerin on a constant loop inside his head.

And maybe he is. Wasting his life. On a boy he’ll never be good enough for.

That night at the drive-in he plays out the final act of their charade. Stupid alien movie and grease-soaked food, hands brushing accidentally as they both grab for a new beer with the anticipation of sex heavy between them.

A dance with Jesse Manes. 

A trade with Renly Thomas.

He makes the most he’s ever made that night. Almost twice what the copper is worth. But he ends the evening in red regardless.

Eventually, he confesses the whole scheme to Sanders. Promising to pay him back. Sanders turns down the offer, but Michael starts saving the money anyway. It’s what he imagines his mother would expect of him. 

He starts taking classes at Roswell Tech. He stops drinking. 

One night, a recently single Alex sits on the stool next to him at the Pony. Leans his elbow on the bartop and turns to Michael. ‘I need a favor.’

Michael drops his hat onto the bartop and snorts. Raises his glass of water to his lips but doesn’t drink. ‘A favor?’

Alex scratches at a divot in the chipped wood bar. Avoiding Michael’s gaze. ‘I need a few feet of copper wire.’

He’s convinced he’s heard him wrong. ‘What?’

‘Three feet. Three feet of copper wire. Heard you were the guy to talk to.’ His lips quirk up at the corner. And Michael suspects he’s being played.

‘Fuck off, Alex.’ There’s no bite in his words, just a sad sort of ruefulness. He slides off his seat and drops his hat back on his head. ‘You can afford to buy your own copper.’

He stalks out of the bar, too sober to stay and argue with an ex who will always be more than an ex. 

The sky is dark and near moonless. Broken glass splinters beneath his boots. A couple arguing loudly distracts him as he walks out to his truck parked near the highway. Unaware that he’s being followed.

When he finally looks up, he stops dead in his tracks. A large dark object sits in the bed of his truck. And it definitely wasn’t there when he’d last climbed out of the Chevy. 

He squints, trying to make out what the object could be without getting any closer. But it’s no use. A voice from behind startles him.

‘Won’t work without the wire.’ 

Alex.

Michael sighs and turns to him. ‘What won’t work?’

‘The sign I made.’ He motions to the back of Michael’s truck. ‘Electrical connections aren’t complete yet. Guess you’ll have to take it home and fix that.’ He hands Michael a brand new reel of copper wire. ‘Let me know how it goes.’

Michael gives him the dirtiest side-eye. But Alex only laughs and turns away. Michael ignores whatever the sign is and slides behind the steering wheel. Riding back to the junkyard in silence.

He sits inside his trailer for a long time. Doing his best to ignore what’s still in his truck. It only works for an hour before he’s back outside and threading the wire through the back of the oak sign. Completing all the electrical connections and yawning through several dramatic sighs.

Once the wiring is finished, he plugs the cord into his power pack and watches as a soft neon glow lights up the night. He stays behind the sign. Protecting himself from whatever it says.

At some point, Isobel arrives. Walks slowly towards him, purples and blues lighting up her face - brow deeply furrowed. ‘Um, Michael? Is there something you want to tell me?’ She motions to the sign and his fear increases tenfold.

He shakes his head, hops up onto the worktable behind him, and carelessly swings his legs back and forth. Trying for nonchalance. ‘Nope. Just fixing Alex’s sign.’

Her mouth falls agape and her eyes go wide. ‘Alex made this?’

Michael nods. 

‘How the fuck are you this calm?’ She’s frantically waving her arms in a decidedly un-Isobel like fashion.

‘Don’t care what it says.’ He’s nervous though. Slips off the table and grabs the leftover copper. It’s probably more than what he stole in the first place. Tosses it onto Sanders’ stack. Suddenly very suspicious about Alex’s intentions.

‘Michael. Come here, right now.’ Her arms are crossed. Death glare back in place. But then she dissolves into high-pitched giggles and he’s never felt a fear so great in all his life.

He bites the bullet and goes to stand beside her. The first thing he notices is how pretty the lights are - pastel neons with a haunting glow. Very reminiscent of the alien tech on his console. 

The words take a minute to form in his mind. He struggles with them. Blinks rapidly several times. Shakes his head and tries again. But each time he lands on the same phrase.

MARRY ME.

‘It’s a joke right? Gotta be.’ Michael swallows hard and stares at the words until they grow fuzzy, losing all meaning. ‘We’re not even dating, Iz.’

Isobel wraps her arm around him and hugs him close. ‘I think you’ve been dating since you were seventeen. Maybe not in the conventional sense - but dating all the same.’ She sighs at the romance of it all. ‘And now he wants more than that.’ She pinches his ribs. 

‘Ow! What was that for?’

‘I can already hear you trying to find some reason to reject him. I will not let you ruin this for me, Michael. Do you understand me? I have a wedding to plan.’ She pulls out her phone and starts flipping through her calendar. ‘Spring or fall?’

Michael rolls his eyes and turns at the sound of tires on gravel. Isobel squeals when she recognizes Alex’s Explorer. Michael’s heart starts to race.

Alex climbs out slowly. Eyeing the sign over Michael’s shoulder. ‘I couldn’t sleep.’ As if that’s all the explanation required. ‘Phone was too quiet.’

Isobel flies into Alex’s arms, nearly knocking him over. But his eyes never leave Michael’s.

‘Give him some space, Isobel.’ She pulls away and looks back and forth between the two of them. Smiling so wide it’s contagious. ‘I’ll call you in the morning.’ She kisses both of them on the cheek and leaves them to their fate.

She stays up all night preparing mood boards.

Back at the junkyard, Alex shoves his hands into his pockets. Feeling naked under Michael’s intense gaze. He waits anxiously for Michael to say something - to say anything.

‘I guess I just don’t understand. Where did this suddenly come from?’ Michael leans against an old junker, watching Alex fidget.

‘Honestly?’ He looks up at the stars and then back down to Michael. ‘I’ve been sort of miserable lately. And one day I looked at my reflection in the mirror and asked myself why.’ He shrugs his shoulders and laughs softly. ‘Got dressed and went to the hardware store.’ 

Michael studies the perfectly formed tube lights. ‘Quite the talent you got there. And completely new to me.’

Alex grins, his anxiety easing a bit. ‘I had help.’

‘And this isn’t a joke?’ 

‘Not a joke. Not remotely a joke.’ He takes several steps towards Michael. Stopping an arm’s length away. ‘I don’t mean tomorrow. Or next month. Hell, maybe not even next year. But one day. When we’re both ready. That’s what I want.’

Michael nods and pushes off the junker. Now only half an arm’s length away. He looks back at the sign. ‘I’m ready whenever you are.’ Drags his eyes slowly back to Alex.

They smile at each other, still able to blush after all these years. And regardless of who moves first, they both land in one another’s arms. Haloed by the sign’s luminescent proposal.

[lambourngb]

Why can’t I change

The irony is, you inspired this story. You posted a ficlet about Michael and Max going out to distract themselves from the pain of being separated from their soulmates...  and this hit me hard:

Max is drinking too much tonight.  This is a good bar – Michael’s actually been in here before.  Twice.  Both times over the last few months, since Alex and Forrest… yeah.  He’s left with guys, both times. He’s… he’s trying to figure some stuff out, with himself.  What he likes.  What he wants, outside of Alex.  Um, and hopefully, eventually, with Alex. It’s been… fine. Fun.  Light.  Uncomplicated.  Pretty much everything the rest of his life isn’t right now.

So I started writing a fic where Michael is exploring things about himself, dating and figuring out what he wants, while he lingers in that “hopefully eventually” feeling in place. Of course, dating is hell, and especially it’s hell when there is so much about Michael that is hard to explain to someone- not just the alien parts, but his genius IQ, his “adopted” siblings, his past in social services, no parents, etc. Then the awkwardness of how he can’t stop from watching Alex whenever their paths cross.

SNIPPET :

It started innocently enough like most of Michael’s life-ruining decisions, during a beer break from his newly re-established lab bunker. 

“Alright, worst date you’ve ever been on, and go!”  Charlie started, taking a long pull of her IPA, before sending a look over to Michael. “You win on the most embarrassing sibling, Guerin, someone needs to teach your sister to knock, but I bet I have you beat on bad dates.”

So five minutes after she had decided to stay in Roswell, Charlie Cameron had ended up tracking down Michael at Sanders, and opened the conversation unceremoniously with, “So aliens are real and I’m guessing you’re one. Consider me the newest member of your Scooby Gang and tell me everything.” He had dropped a heavy wrench on his boot, pain stealing his voice for a moment. Perhaps there was a man out there that was able to resist the no-nonsense stare of a Cameron woman, but that wasn’t Michael, or even Max for that matter.

And that was that, one more person in on the second biggest secret Michael held (he was still in love with Alex being number one). It came with it’s own valuable reveals, finding out from Charlie that although Helena Ortecho had covered her tracks with the group as a red herring for Flint’s sake, Deep Sky was a very real paramilitary group and they were the source of the depowering serum that Helena had used on Michael to keep him compliant.

So ten minutes after catching her up on all things ridiculous and real in Roswell, New Mexico, Charlie had raised a perfectly sculpted eyebrow at him and drawled lazily, “Any plans to combat that drug, or are you just going to hope that the next time it’s another benign manipulator? Because the way I see it, I’m a genius biochemist, and you’re a genius period, maybe we can do better than blind hope?”

Whether it was hubris at play to see if it was even possible, or a renewed determination to just fuck up whatever military sponsored plot that was in play, Charlie Cameron signed on to research an antidote to the depowering serum and in the process had become Michael’s newest, and surprisingly easiest, friend to have. 

It was strange but Michael was starting to number his friends beyond just Max, Isobel and the currently absent Liz Ortecho. He could begrudgingly add Kyle Valenti to the list, now that Max had come clean with everyone over his heart condition. Although it was exceedingly awkward at times in the wake of their breakup, Maria was trying for friendship with him and it probably said something about them that they fell into that rhythm much easier than he had with Alex. 

On paper he could consider Alex his friend. They shared beers together at neutral locations, there was always a conversation to linger over with coffee, and finally, Michael was the person Alex called now, every time he was scheduled to go out of town for work. That was less friendship, and more of a coping mechanism for them both after his abduction by Jesse then Helena. 

It meant that Charlie Cameron had won the contest of easiest friend probably by default, but that didn’t make being the target of her knife-sharp sense of humor any easier to deflect when she smelled blood in the water. Thinking about his past, he knew that any conversation about dating was sure to leave him bleeding out.

Michael eyed the open hatch of the bunker lab, wondering if the spanse of time they had spent in the open air was enough for Charlie to nip this conversation to a close and return to the task of experimentation. Long periods of time in solitary confinement in a military prison had left her with a dislike of closed spaces, and it didn’t matter what sort of faux-Restoration Hardware light fixture he hung from the ceiling of his bunker; the walls would start closing in on her after two  hours or so of work.  

“You win this round, okay?” 

“Come on, no bowing out. I told you about the ‘bring your child to work day’ my father suffered through with his conservative asshat co-workers, you can tell me about your worst date.”

“I haven’t dated enough to have a bad one, okay?” Michael admitted, looking away. There was no way he was going to talk about the drive in charity benefit with Alex, when he couldn’t be legitimately sure that it was even a date. Did sharing a six-pack on his tailgate even count? The way that night had ended was better off forgotten. Then there was Maria, where drinks at her bar had started as the natural postscript to an evening together. Did that count? He remembered bargaining with debts to arrange a dinner with Chinese food, that had been postponed almost indefinitely after her visions took center stage. 

“Bullshit! Almost the second thing my sister told me about you was to be careful I didn’t end up in your bed.”

Michael ducked his head with an acknowledged wince. Well, Jenna Cameron did have a front-row seat during most of his questionable decisions regarding women and his poor restraint when it came to a certain brand of asshole at the Wild Pony. When he ran across men who reminded him of Foster Dad #5 who thought respect could be beaten into Michael, or men who were like Foster Dad 3 who kept his wife nervously popping pills for her nerves and caked in pancake makeup most Sunday mornings. Some people just needed punching. Michael was always happy to be the one doing it if someone gave him reason to and drunk assholes often did.

He tipped the bottle back to drain the last swallow of nearly flat beer to buy some time as he thought about what to say next. There was little hope of escape, Charlie had the mind of a scientist, sharp and inquisitive and ready to press for more answers. “I’m no virgin, that’s for sure. But that was mainly sex.” He shrugged, dropping the empty into his trash barrel. “From all the movies Izzy makes me watch with her, I gather going on a date is something of a higher tier than a one-off in my truck after last call.”

“What about with Mr. Complicated?” Charlie’s smile was closer to a smirk. Michael revised his assessment of her, from scientist to sadist. 

“More than a one-off in my truck,” Michael agreed quietly. “Everything else was why it was complicated. And no, I don’t really want to talk about it, just to say, I have no stories about lost entrées at dinner or suddenly being a part of someone’s wedding reception with him.” 

Instead of pressing the knife deeper into him with more questions about Alex, Charlie backed off with a mixed expression. Shit that was pity on her face, wasn’t it? God, it really was a sad story, his relationship with Alex and his life currently, Michael thought. Charlie, who had spent time in the last couple of years in a military prison and was actively evading a paramilitary group interested in her research, actually pitied his life. 

“You’re trying to tell me you’re thirty years old, and you don’t have a single dating story to share?” She shook her head giving a sarcastic *bzzz* sound with her lips. “I don’t buy it. What about the hot bartender you were with last year?”

“You ever try to date someone who works in a bar? Her work hours were prime recreational hours. Who wants to go see a movie after last call and closing the till? You especially don’t want to go to another bar during off hours.” Michael pointed out. “Anyway, we kept it low-key. I cooked. Or we had drinks at the Pony. I dunno, life kept getting in the way of anything more.” 

“That’s just sad.”

Michael placed his hand against his chest, “Ouch, don’t hold back!”

Charlie straightened up from where she was sitting, on the steps of the old school bus to get to her feet. “Okay you’ve basically described two relationships with feelings, but I’m talking about something different. You swipe right on someone, trade messages, ghost them when they are creepy, you’ve never done any of that? No one has ever slipped their number to you when you’ve gone out with friends?”

“I just told you, those were just one-offs in my truck.”

“Oh my god, give me your phone, we’re downloading some apps.”

[ineverlookavvay]

I'm still here hoping (that one day you may come back)

Set during the lost decade. After years apart, Alex and Michael spend a night together.

Fic prompt: “I don’t want you to go.”  - Day 3 of Michael Guerin Week 2020

content warning for alcohol, semi-explicit sex, self-destructive behavior

Read it on Ao3 

Michael slammed the door to his truck and took a breath, looking around to see if anyone else was loitering in the parking lot of the bar.  Too many people, too dangerous to do what he wanted and throw something heavy across the lot with his mind, but too much energy to go inside.  Instead, he slammed his fist against the side of the truck, reveling in the way the blow rang through his bones.  

It was a Friday night, so of course the parking lot wasn’t empty, which was good since Michael was looking for a fight tonight.  He was getting good at recognizing the types of truck that usually belonged to the kind of guy he didn’t mind going to jail for pummeling, and there were several excellent contenders. 

Satisfied with the potential, he strode into the Wild Pony, avoiding Maria’s gaze and slipping into a seat at the bar.  He was enough of a regular that he barely had to motion to the guy behind the bar to order a drink.   

“Don’t you have a trailer to loiter in?”  Maria sauntered up, leaning on the bar like she owned the damn place instead of her mom.    

“Can’t you afford to hire other people to work here?”  Michael shot back, accepting the drink the actual bartender slid in front of him and smirking at her when she frowned.  “Go away, I’m a paying customer.”

“Tabs don’t count.”

Michael gave her an actual smile, even though he felt like screaming and crying and tearing the entire town down to splinters.  “No, but see, I’m promising to someday be a paying customer.  That’s just as good.”  She put her hands on her hips, staring him down.  Michael was struck again by how ridiculously unfair it was that being an adult was just the same as being in high school, except everyone felt even more entitled.  The able-to-drink-in-public part is better though.  “Are you gonna take away my drink?” he asked inflammatorily.  “No?  Then goodbye.”   She rolled her eyes but walked away.    

Michael sipped his bourbon and slipped some acetone into it.  More than he should, probably, but numb was better than whatever he was currently feeling.  Numb had always been better than the noise and the tangle of thoughts and the pain—all of the fucking pain—and the worry.  

It shouldn’t have even been this bad.  It was just a party, an engagement party, for Isobel and her utterly normal, friendly boyfriend.  Well, fiancé, now.   

Michael wasn’t sure what it was about the whole thing that made him feel the way he did.  Maybe it was that reminder of Max and Isobel’s happy, wealthy family, and how completely unaware the Evanses were of the ridiculousness of throwing a gauzy, white party in the middle of the desert.  He could always see in their eyes that they were glad when he left, even if they pretended otherwise.  Or maybe it was that Isobel had actually found someone to marry, an actual companion, someone who didn’t make her sad, who didn’t make her feel so much that it ached.  

Not that Michael was looking for someone to marry.  Fuck, no.  He was happy chasing the smaller highs of casual hookups.  Or at least, he was content with it.  He’d had his taste of that something else, of that ache, of that feeling they wrote melodramatic poetry about; he’d had his chance and it had been too much.  Too much for someone like Michael, too much to sustain, too much to sacrifice for when he didn’t have anything to give except himself, and even that was small and insufficient.  

That summer, the three of them had become bad people, the kind of people who cover up a murder for their own good, no matter how justified it might have seemed.  And while Max and Isobel dealt with it by being the very best, upstanding citizen parodies of themselves, Michael just stopped acting like anything mattered.  He wasn’t a cowboy, or an upstanding citizen, or a drunkard, or anything—he was only himself.  And one of these days, he was going to get off this forsaken planet and become something.  

But until then, he split his mind between working and going to Isobel’s parties and pretending he didn’t hate every minute of it.  The engagement party had been semi-formal, which meant Michael had put on a clean shirt and jeans, and grudgingly accepted the tie she thrust at him when he walked in the door (now buried somewhere on the floor of the truck).  He’d put on a smile and he’d toasted the happy couple and he’d tried to stem that idiotic part of him that had the nerve to feel jealous.  

The jealousy, and the sadness, and the feelings of inferiority weren’t even the worst part.  The worst part was that they’d gone years and years without telling anyone their secret, and now Isobel was getting married.  She was literally going to swear to be honest and faithful and whatever else, and Michael couldn’t help but feel a little worried that she would want to tell all her secrets to this man she was planning to spend her life with.  All of their secrets.  No matter how much she protested that she didn’t want that, that she wanted a normal marriage, it was still concerning.

Michael finished the drink and another one appeared.  Got to love being a regular, even if he wished he had a nicer place to haunt.  He took a drink and tipped more acetone in, glancing around the bar for someone to talk to, or hit on, or just plain hit.  And his eyes fell on someone walking through the door: Alex. 

Michael turned back to the bar immediately, taking a drink with shaking fingers.  Fuck.  This wasn’t the right night for his first lov—his high school ex, who he hadn’t seen in years, to come wandering back into his life.  Then again, Michael wasn’t sure there ever would be a right night for it.  

They hadn’t talked.  The end of that summer had turned into one nightmarish day after the next—Michael had his first string of arrests, his first nights in the drunk tank, all to try and chase the memory of that night from his mind, to chase away the disappointed look Alex had given him when Michael admitted that he wasn’t going to college after all.  It wasn’t like he could say, ‘I have to stay and keep an eye on my homicidal alien sister.’  Things had been bad enough before he’d woken up one morning to find that Alex was gone.  Really, actually gone.  

That had been the worst string of nights Michael had experienced since he’d learned to punch back.  

Michael looked around again, unable to stop himself.  He wasn’t sure if Alex had seen him, and besides that, he wasn’t sure if Alex would give any fucks about him.  Probably not, which was fair.  The only people who did give a fuck about Michael were Max and Isobel, and they didn’t have a choice.  

The problem was that Michael was smart.  Smart enough to have noticed which tables were empty in the bar when Alex walked in, to find him within seconds at one of them, talking to Maria.  Michael was too smart to believe that his shaking hands weren’t the prelude to something larger and more fantastic and extremely not attached to him shaking, to think that he was going to be able to sit there at the bar and drink like nothing at all is different and—fuck.

Michael accidentally met Alex’s gaze and immediately ducked his head down, like he could somehow hide behind nothing, when it was clear that Alex had already seen him.  Michael’s head was too fuzzy already to have a good sense of what Alex’s expression had looked like, the whole bar was suddenly too loud and chaotic for him to grasp something as intangible as a social cue.  

Maria slid up to the bar and leaned over it to grab two beers, looking sideways at Michael.  “What’s wrong, Guerin?  Someone bigger and stronger steal the girl you were eyeing?” 

He mimed laughter.  “Funny.”  Michael swallowed the remainder of his drink and stood up, feeling a little bit wobbly and not from the bourbon.  “Save your material, I’m leaving.”

Maria looked happy he was going, which was just the icing on the damn cake.  Absolutely no one wanted to see Michael, and he wasn’t even really drunk enough to pick a worthwhile fight.  He spared another quick glance at Alex’s table, ignoring how it made his pulse speed, ignoring that Alex still looked good as hell, and shoving his still shaking hands in his pockets as he walked past and out of the bar. 

He didn’t go to his truck though.  There was nothing waiting for Michael anywhere else, and he was far too wired for sleep.  Maybe he could still find something to do while he waited for Alex to leave so he could have the bar to himself.  Michael slipped into the shadows, leaning against the wall of the building and taking the momentary lull in parking lot foot traffic as an opportunity to sip a little more from his flask of acetone. 

He wasn’t sure what he was waiting for, but standing there in the warm night air, with the faint sound of music and laughter seeping through the windows, he felt almost okay.  It was almost enough to unsnarl his mind for a moment.  

And then the door opened, and Alex stepped out of the bar.  

Michael’s breath caught as he waited to see if anyone was with Alex, but no one else appeared.  He couldn’t tell if Alex was intentionally walking towards him, or just walking with his fingertips trailing the side of the building, but either way, in a matter of moments they were closer than they’d been in a long, long time.  

It wasn’t the right night for this.  Michael felt like he needed someone, he had been thinking about their time right after high school anyway, and now he felt unmoored and uncontrollable and like if he was going to make a mistake, he might as well dive in.  Michael reached out as Alex drew near him and grabbed Alex’s hand, pulling him into the shadows where Michael was lurking.  

“Guerin,” Alex breathed, and it didn’t sound like anger.  

“Alex.”  Michael’s hands were shaking.  

“How are you?”  Alex hadn’t pulled his hand away, and Michael honestly wasn’t sure if that was a good sign or a terrible sign.  But it was contact.  What aliens crave.  “I saw you before, inside, but I wasn’t sure if—”

“What are you doing here?”  Michael asked abruptly.  

Alex smiled, surprised, and it was all nostalgia and ache and the burning brightness of a star.  “I’m on leave.”  

If it had been another night, if Michael hadn’t been feeling raw and lonely, if he was a little more or a little less drunk, if his hands weren’t shaking like damn leaves.  But it was, and he was, and they were.  It was a foregone conclusion.  

“Wanna go for a drive?”     

Alex nodded, and Michael hated how it made his chest clench. 

They drove into the middle of nowhere, far enough away from lights that the stars blinked into view.  Michael just drove, and god help him, it reminded him of that summer, driving out to the middle of the desert just to be alone with each other.  And here Alex was, again, sitting just too far across the bench seat of Michael’s truck, making idle conversation and good-naturedly criticizing every song that came on the radio.    

Eventually, Michael found a place to park, cutting the engine and the radio off.  They sat in silence for a long, terrible moment.  “Nicer view from the bed,” Michael said without thinking about the wording, and Alex laughed nervously.  

“Yeah, okay.”

They clambered out and into the truck bed, and Michael was glad he’d recently washed some of the blankets he kept thrown in there.  Alex sat with his knees pulled up to his chest, while Michael lounged across the other side, trying to make himself look more put together than he felt.  Alex looked at the stars and Michael looked at Alex.  He looked good—older, and maybe more tired, and he was missing the jewelry and eyeliner that was so endearingly rebellious.  He looked quieter, somehow, and the thought of that made something in Michael want to scream.  

“I forgot how quiet it was,” Alex said eventually, looking over at Michael.  His eyes were the same, or at least they still made Michael feel achingly adrift.

“Must be a nice change.” Michael had no idea what he was saying, he was just trying not to let the conversation die.  Alex laughed wryly.  “How’ve you really been?”

Alex shrugged.  “You really want to hear about it?”

Michael didn’t.  The idea of Alex—Alex who was good and real and made him ache—off fighting someone else’s wars made Michael sick to his stomach, made him want to flip the damn truck over.  

“I’ve spent all day talking about the Air Force,” Alex said eventually.

“Okay, so tell me something else about you,” Michael said.

“I’m glad to see you,” Alex said, staring straight at Michael, like he was daring him to argue.  “I wasn’t sure you’d still be here.”

“Well, I am.  For now.”  It was a lie—Michael wasn’t leaving Roswell unless it was in a flying saucer—but the lie made reality easier to bear. 

“I’m leaving tomorrow.”  The information was offered before Michael could decide if he wanted to know.  Alex’s phone chimed from where he’d left it in the cab.  “And I had plans for tonight.”   

“Breaking plans to bum around with me?  I’m honored.”

“When you looked at me in the bar, I forgot all about them,” Alex continued, sounding mildly disgusted with himself.  

Michael swallowed hard.  “When I looked at you in the bar, I forgot about everything else.”  It was easier, out here, to say things like that, knowing it was just between him and Alex and the desert and the night sky—and Alex would be gone tomorrow.      

“Are you still getting into fights?  Still drinking?  Still getting arrested?”  He sounded hopeful.  That just made it all worse.  

Michael looked down at the blanket he was sitting on, worrying the edge of it between the fingers of his bad hand.  “Not currently.”  Alex’s hand suddenly reached out and grasped his fingers, stopping the fidgeting.  Michael looked up and Alex was closer, their faces inches apart.  

“Just for tonight,” Alex said, and Michael nodded, unable to turn away even if his life depended on it.  Alex smiled like he couldn’t help it, and then pressed his lips to Michael’s.

Everything was quiet.  Everything was eclipsed by the desire, the ache, the need to press as much of himself to Alex as possible.  Alex’s lips were more chapped than Michael remembered, but otherwise it was the same—the same swooping sensation in his stomach, the same warm wet pressure, the same fervent way Alex licked Michael’s lips until he deepened the kiss.  Michael bit back the high, needy noise threatening to burst out of him, wrapping his hand around Alex’s waist, holding him as close as possible when they were both awkwardly sitting side by side in the truck bed.  It was enough.  

Michael had asked Isobel how it felt to kiss Noah, once.  It was under the guise of teasing, but he had really wondered if everyone had the same brilliantly overwhelming feelings he experienced with Alex, like nothing else mattered but the two of them, like nothing else even existed.  Michael hadn’t felt that with anyone else, but no one else had been nearly as important as Alex was to him, as Noah seemed to be to Isobel.  Isobel had laughed, and said something cliched and cute, but it hadn’t come anywhere near the words he would use to describe kissing Alex.  And now, he wasn’t sure that he hadn’t undersold the experience in his memory. 

They fell back against the blankets, legs intertwined.  It was perfect until Michael misjudged and hit his elbow on the side of the truck with a bang and a loud “Fuck!”  Michael slid quickly away from the offending metal, closer to Alex, and Alex giggled, hiding the sound in the curve of Michael’s neck.  Michael filed that away, the sound of Alex giggling, deep in his memory, a balm for the really bad moments.  

His face still tucked into the juncture between Michael’s neck and shoulder, Alex turned the laughter into kisses, pressing them along the sensitive skin of Michael’s neck.  Michael ran his good fingers along Alex’s spine, and Alex shivered at the light touch.  Michael felt good, he felt weightless, like he’d been carrying an invisible weight, and now Alex was lifting it. 

Alex’s fingers plucked at the edge of Michael’s shirt, and Michael let Alex peel it off of him, the air and anticipation prickling at his bare skin.  Alex touched Michael with a look of reverence, running his hands along the lines of Michael’s collarbones, tripping across his nipples, stroking over his ribs, smoothing the line of his stomach.  Michael had forgotten how this felt, to have someone really want him, really want to touch him, in a way that felt intimate instead of rushed and anonymous.  It made him feel powerful and incredibly vulnerable.

Michael tugged at the buttons on Alex’s shirt, slipping them from their holes, slowly revealing skin, an exceptional tease.  Alex huffed a laugh as Michael’s tugging became more insistent, the last button popping clean off the shirt, rolling across the metal of the truck bed.  They crashed together, gripping each other’s hips, pressing their skin together and kissing messily.   

It was just like the last time, except the sting of that summer was dulled; over time, it had been overtaken by the way that Michael ached when he thought about how long it had been since he’d seen Alex, how many nights he’d spent lying in bed hoping that nothing terrible had happened to him.  They were both still eager, and they both seemed to want it just as much.  The difference was that Michael knew now that this wasn’t just a summer fling, that it never could be; the difference was that Michael knew that something in him broke every time Alex left, and he would have to try his best to rebuild himself tonight because in the morning, it would break again.  

Michael ran his fingers arounds the waist of Alex’s pants—soft, ticklish caresses that made Alex’s breath catch, his exhales twisting towards a moan.  Michael undid the fiddly zipper of Alex’s pants, letting out his own moan at the sudden expanse of skin as Alex helped pull them off, at the suggestive bulge of Alex’s cock beneath his boxers.  Michael’s pants were off after another moment, hurried motions that made both of them giggle and moan like teenagers.     

Filled with the restless energy of want, Michael pressed Alex back down on the blankets, rolling to hover over him, sweeping his eyes over all of Alex’s skin.  Their kisses were heated, spurred on by their bodies sliding together.  Michael could feel every nerve in his body reacting to touching Alex, every bit of him lit up and conscious of Alex’s every movement, every sigh, every push of his hips against Michael’s, every look and every kiss burning through him. 

Alex pulled away, breathing hard, his hand tangling in Michael’s hair.  “Christ, I missed you,” he whispered, quiet even though no one else was around.  He sounded wrecked, and Michael felt the sound sear itself in his memory.  

Michael took a deep breath.  Alex was smiling up at him, looking blissful; Alex was here, with him, and he had to make it count, to make it good for Alex, because Michael knew with a sudden certainty that he wouldn’t be able to survive it if Alex came home the next time and didn’t fall into his arms.  Michael spent so much time disappointing so many people, but this—loving Alex—this he could do. 

“You look nervous,” Alex said, later, when they were both naked and Michael had found the lube he kept stashed in the glove compartment.  

“No,” Michael laughed, running his tongue along the sensitive skin by Alex’s hip.  “It’s just been a while since I did this with someone I liked as much as you.”

Then Michael’s mouth was on Alex’s cock and Alex’s response turned into a moan, his voice rising into the quiet air as Michael tried to say everything he really wanted to say without any words and hoped Alex would understand.

Hours later, as they lay wrapped together in blankets and each other, sweat cooling on their skin, Michael ran his hand through Alex’s hair and wished he had the power to slow time.  Alex’s hair was longer in high school, and Michael regretted slightly that he couldn’t pull on it the way he remembered Alex liking.  It was just another reminder that things were different now, that Alex was going to leave for someplace he might never come back from, while Michael dug his own grave slowly in Roswell. 

“That’s nice, Michael,” Alex said, leaning into Michael’s touch.  Michael pressed kisses to his cheeks, his forehead, his lips—gentle, unhurried kisses, the kind they never got to have in high school.  There was always some danger lurking around the corner, the fear of being seen, of being caught; now the only threat was the sun, and the morning that would take Alex away.    

“Only nice?” Michael teased, kissing along Alex’s jaw, down his neck.  “Do I have to demonstrate my charms again?”  He pressed his hips toward Alex suggestively. 

“Nice is good,” Alex replied, sighing as he leaned closer to Michael.  “And this was perfect.”

Don’t leave, he wanted to say.  Instead, he rocked their bodies together again more purposefully as he felt Alex respond.  They gripped each other like they could hold together the things threatening to tear them apart with every passing minute, kissing with renewed passion, making the most of what time they had.  

They hadn’t slept at all when the sun started to rise, painting the broad expanse of the desert with color and light, or at least Michael hadn’t.  Alex was dozing, and Michael was watching him, watching the way the glow of the early morning made Alex’s skin golden, the way his eyelashes fluttered as he dreamed, the dark red of his well-kissed lips.  It would have been creepy to take a photo, but Michael wished he’d brought his phone out of the cab, wished he had a picture of Alex looking peaceful and fucking radiant, to remind himself that not everything was shit all of the time.  Instead, Michael looked and looked and tried to etch the image onto his memory. 

Alex stirred, blinking awake and smiling up at Michael.  “Hey.”  His voice was thick with sleep and sex, and Michael’s chest felt tight at the thought he might never get to hear that again.  He’d never admit it, but while Alex slept, Michael had mentally seriously considered the pros and cons of joining the damn Air Force himself just to have some piece of Alex around him all the time.

“Mornin’,” Michael drawled, kissing Alex’s eyelids, kissing Alex’s hand, kissing Alex everywhere he could see.  Alex yawned and Michael grinned.  “Tired?”

Alex’s face slipped from contentment to something sadder and more complicated.  “Hey, that’s the first time we’ve both actually slept in the same place.”

“Speak for yourself,” Michael replied, then switched tactics when Alex’s face dropped a bit.  “Yeah, I know.”  He paused, watching Alex’s expression brighten.  “I liked it.”

“Me too.”  

The sun sped higher in the sky, drenching them in light.  Michael wondered what would happen if he tried to telekinetically move the sun back towards the East.  Probably worse than just a nosebleed.

Alex started to root around for his clothing in the mess of blankets, shooting Michael small smiles despite the aura of sadness surrounding them.  Alex pulled on his pants and slid off the back of the truck, standing up and looking around them like he was cataloguing his surroundings.  Michael sighed and pulled on his own jeans, trying to ignore how final it felt.  

“So.”  It was stranger, in the light, with Alex standing up and out of reach.  “You going back to some buff Air Force boyfriend?”

Alex laughed, glancing over his shoulder and raising an eyebrow at Michael.  “You going back to some drunk townie?”  It stung, a little, and after all hadn’t Michael been trying to sting him by asking first.  Alex sighed, turning back to Michael fully, his face suddenly sadder and less guarded.  “Don’t worry, Guerin, you’ve ruined me for anyone else.”

Guerin.  After being Michael all night, it hurt more than he expected.  Michael’s chest tightened at the name, at the offhand remark, and he wanted nothing more than to agree, to tell Alex that he felt the same and have it ring with truth, to admit that nothing else could ever stand up to whatever it was they stumbled upon at 17—but he couldn’t.  He couldn’t because Alex was leaving and there wasn’t a damn thing Michael could do about it, because Michael was still himself and now that it was light he could feel the unease spreading over him, because they were different people now than who they had been years ago, and it was nothing but foolish to pretend that nothing had changed.  

“I don’t want you to go,” Michael said instead, petulantly.  

Alex smiled sadly and shook his head.  He pulled his shirt on, tucking it in to hide the missing bottom button, and walked back to the passenger door of the truck.  Done.  Finito.  

Michael sighed, blinking back the heat sitting in the corners of his eyes, threatening to become something he couldn’t laugh off.  Michael would only let himself cry in one place, and that was alone in his trailer, where no one could see or hear him, where no one could sense any weakness. 

Michael started the truck before realizing he had no idea where Alex wanted to be taken.  Not home, because home was still his father’s house, and Michael avoided that place like the plague.  

“You can drop me off at the Wild Pony,” Alex said quietly.  “I’ll get a ride from Mimi.”

“Right.”

It wasn’t a long drive.  Far too short, but neither of them talked.  They sat in silence, the cab filling with unspoken words, dread and sadness neither of them could force past their lips.  Michael wanted to tell him to be careful, wanted to beg him to stay, wanted to cry and scream and protest that it wasn’t fair for something to be this important and still be impermanent.  He drove in silence and parked at the edge of the lot, giving Alex the chance to sneak away without being obvious about where he was coming from.  That hurt, too. 

“Oh, hey.”  Alex paused with his hand on the door latch.  “I have something for you, don’t leave.”  He climbed out of the car and went running towards the building.  

Michael stared after him, his hand on the gear shift, ready to escape if anyone else appeared, certain he’d misheard the request to wait.  He could vaguely make out a figure in the doorway handing Alex a bundle of fabric—probably Mimi—and Alex gestured at her to go inside before running back towards Michael.  

He pulled open the door and slid back inside, handing Michael a thin cd case.  Michael took it cautiously and Alex shrugged, clearly embarrassed.  “It’s um—it’s a mix cd.  I made it a while ago, thought maybe you could use some good music for a change and it—it made me think of you, so.”  

Michael considered the cd, brushing his fingers against the plastic, a sheet of paper with Alex’s handwriting on the inside of the case, listing a bunch of songs he didn’t know.  It was very plain, no doodled hearts or personalization or anything, but still, it was something tangible that came from Alex, something Michael could hold, something given to him on purpose.  He looked up at Alex with something like wonder.  “Thank you,” he breathed, then recovering some swagger, “Knowing your music taste, not sure that counts as a gift, but…thanks.”

Alex smiled, and pulled Michael in for a kiss, short and searing and carrying so much that was unsaid that Michael felt the weight of it settle over him.  He wasn’t ready for Alex to leave again, he was never going to be ready, and Alex was always going to leave because Michael was never going to be enough to keep him.  That’s just how it was, but Michael knew he would never be able to stop trying to be enough. 

“I think I might love you,” Michael said against Alex’s lips, unable to hold back the surge of emotion.  

“Don’t.”  

Alex breathed in sharply, and Michael could see a tear fall from Alex’s eye, neither of them acknowledging it.  He kissed Michael again fiercely, and Michael knew it still wasn’t enough, and he knew that Alex wasn’t going to reply, and he knew that he would swallow it down and disappoint everyone and life would go on.  It was inevitable that Alex would pull away, and it wasn’t until he did that Michael realized their hands were clenched together, the cd lying in his lap.  

They didn’t do goodbyes, so Alex just smiled tightly and slipped out of the truck and into the bar, and that was it.  

Michael drove home.  He parked the truck and climbed into the trailer and showered, washing Alex Manes and every painful emotion he brought up down the drain with the soapy water.  

Clean and changed and exhausted, Michael tried unsuccessfully to focus on work.  His gaze kept going back to the stupid mix cd—who even did that anymore?—and eventually he gave in, rolling his eyes and trying not to feel anything as he started the cd playing.  

He didn’t know the songs, and it wasn’t his taste, and it didn’t matter in the least.  Michael sat on his bed and listened to the songs that reminded Alex of him.  

Sitting there, Michael imagined that he could hear the sound of a jet overhead, carrying Alex out of New Mexico and out of Michael’s grasp; he imagined he could hear Alex’s footsteps, his uniform shoes clicking on the tiled airport floor, tapping anxiously against the floor of his father’s car.  Michael listened to the cd and it felt like senior year; it felt like everything he’d ever tried to forget because it hurt and Michael didn’t know what to do with hurt except swallow it down or drink it dull; it felt like lying in the middle of the desert watching the sunlight dance on Alex’s face as he slept.  

Michael listened to the cd again when it finished, and then again, and he let himself fall apart, alone in his trailer, mourning the life that they could have had, mourning the life that they never would.  He listened until his eyes were sore and red and his chest burned with longing and he felt drained and exhausted.  And then he took the cd and slipped it back into its case and put it inside of a cabinet, buried beneath other things, and tried to remember how to forget. 

[winged-fool]

Hey friend! Anti-max/echo/Maria anon here 🧡🧡 There ain’t no darkness in you, kid. You ain’t nothing but a pair of sad puppy dog eyes in a cowboy hat - hands down the best scene in the episode and one of the most accurate statements ever made in the show!! Michael Guerin = 🤠+🥺 I love papa Sanders knocking some sense into Michael 🧡🧡 between him and Alex, they’ll make sure Michael knows that no one believes there is any darkness in him 🥰🥰 I really hope by the end of the season Michael realises, and tells Sanders, that Sanders is the only dad he’s ever needed 🧡🧡 what did you think of the ep..? I didn’t hate it but after last week my hopes were HIGH so it was a bit of a let down… I really wanted a Malex morning after scene 🥺 I won’t lie, I didn’t need any of the Wyatt stuff 😒😒 I don’t understand the point of his character and making his arc relate to Rosa’s… I hate it and I just hope it’s finally done! I love Dallas 🥰🥰 I wish he had’ve been around for the whole season… and I sincerely hope that Max dies (you’ve been teasing it for 3 seasons!! Just do it, you cowards!!) and we keep Dallas… and Mr Jones.. he’s funny 🤷🏻‍♀️ only one week of RNM left… I don’t know how to feel hahahaha 😂😂 sending love your way friend 🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡

Hello my friend! Okay I loooove that Sanders and Michael keep having emotion moments together, it's everything I ever wanted for Michael! He especially needs it now with his existentialism re: Jones! BTW do we know his alien name??

I still haven't seen the ep, but with the way my week is going I probably won't until later! But I agree, we were riding that high pretty hard last week and the blasted 10 episode contract came and ruined everything! I think when I do watch it though, I'm going to fast forward thru Wyatt's scenes, I don't need that negativity in my life lol

Yeah kill Max u cowards! I'm not even saying fire Nathan because we love Jones and he can stick around haha just think how good the show could be! Triad Isobel, Michael, and Dallas, poly rep Liz/Kyle/Isobel. Wow chills just thinking of it haha

I'm ready for the season to end, my semester is only going to get worse from here hahaha but I hope the finale is good and isn't TOO jam-packed with info dumping...

Anyway, lots of love right back at ya my friend!!

[saadiestuff]

of rings and things (Malex ficlet)

SUMMARY: Michael thinks he's out of time. But it turns out their new story is just beginning. TAGS: post season 2, fluff, mentions of past Alex/Forrest. 900ish words. AO3 LINK.

------

“I know why you asked to meet me here,” Michael says dejectedly as he settles into the booth across from Alex.

“You do?” Alex questions, an eyebrow rising in doubt.

“Yes. And I know you’re doing it as a courtesy, and I don't have any right to--”

“I don’t think you kn--”

“Fuck,” Michael says to himself, but it still cuts Alex off. Michael rubs his hands over his face and grunts. Then he looks at Alex, and blurts out his next words. “Alex, you can’t marry Forrest.”

“Michael--”

“I mean you can, obviously, but I don’t want you to. I’m asking you not to. I’m sorry I’m taking so long, I just-- I wanted us to be ready so we’d have a real shot. And I thought I had more time. You’ve only been dating a few months and I didn’t think it was that serious--”

“Guerin--” Alex says louder.

“Not that I’m judging! If he makes you happy-- I just--”

Alex interrupts this time, though he is loath to stop Michael’s speech when for once he’s actually communicating. But Alex can’t let him continue. “I’m not marrying Forrest. What made you think I was?”

Michael sputters, “Isobel saw you two ring shopping!”

“Ooh,” Alex says softly, realization dawning, but Michael has already launched into further explanation.

“The store hired her to help with their display and social media.”

“They liked what she did for the Crashdown,” Alex correctly speculates.

“When she saw you come in with Forrest she hid behind one of the displays. She said she couldn’t really hear you from where she was.” (It then occurs to Michael that may have been a lie to get him to go spill his guts to Alex, as he is now doing.) Michael sucks in a much needed breath. “But she said you were over by the rings, and you left with ring boxes, and--”

“Hah,” Alex chuckles, “So that’s why I smelled rain.” But he turns serious. “I, uh, broke up with Forrest because of it.”

“What?” Michael says, horrified that Isobel’s spying would have caused the breakup, and sad for Alex, even though he also feels a huge sense of relief, and a surge of hope, the strongest yet.

“Uh huh. Should tell me something that, standing next to a display of wedding rings with my boyfriend, I get a smell-o-vision of you.”

Michael sighs. “But you didn’t, really. It was Isobel.” He scrunches up his nose. “I didn’t know you could smell her.”

Alex shrugs. “I think once you know what it is… after that I could smell Isobel and Max too.”

Michael makes a mildly disturbed, pouty face.

Alex snorts, “Don’t worry, your smell is still very unique to-- uh, to me…” He clears his throat. “And I probably would have realized it wasn’t actually you if I hadn’t also been thinking of you anyways…”

“...While looking at a case of wedding rings,” Michael quietly finishes for him.

“Even though Forrest was always game to just-- and he knew all along that I-- well,” Alex stops short and huffs out a breath. “Sorry, this is a lot. We’re practically talking about--”

“Getting married.”

“Getting married. Yeah,” Alex says, half synced with Michael.

Michael inhales sharply. It is a lot.

“Uh, anyways, the reason I wanted to meet...” Alex continues, rubbing the back of his neck briefly, “I was at the store because I was picking up a ring of Tripp’s I got resized to fit me.” He holds up his right hand; the ring sits on his fourth finger. “It seems Tripp wore it on his thumb, so it was too big.”

“You find it on his corpse?” Michael asks, eyes wide.

“Greg noticed it, yeah. He told me I should have it. I finally got around to dropping it off at the jewelry place a few weeks ago, and yesterday I had to go pick it up. Forrest really likes rings, so he tagged along. I hadn’t considered how awkward it would end up being as a couple activity for us.”

Michael smiles sympathetically.

“So the ring…” Alex wiggles it off his finger and holds it up above the middle of the table, “The jeweler who worked on it said it contains a weird material she’s never seen before.”

Alex moves the ring towards Michael, who resists the urge to put his finger through it as Alex holds it out. Instead, Michael takes it in his fingers, turning it over, rolling the smooth object in his palm. But eventually, he slips it on.

“Alien tech,” Michael says, though he'd known the answer before he’d even touched it.

“Yeah,” Alex confirms, “I mean, it must be. That’s why it feels…”

“Like home.”

Alex gulps and nods. “You can keep it. If-- if you want it. The tech-- it should be with you.”

“Nah,” Michael says, trying to sound casual, but the longing in his voice betrays him, “I think I’d prefer it be on you… with me.”

Alex grins shyly, looking down, then back up, his smile gaining ground. “Okay.”

“Yeah?” Michael says hopefully, beaming back.

“Yeah.”

Michael smirks as he takes off the well-fitting ring and hands it back to Alex -- all the while hardly believing that he now dares let such bold words escape his lips, but it feels right. “Handy to know we have the same ring size, huh? You know, future reference...”

“Handy,” Alex says brightly, matching Michael’s confidence.

The future is bright indeed.

[spaceskam]

warning: this is literally just them talking about what happened in 2x06 so

"You know what the worst part about it is?"

Michael watched as Alex tilted back another shot. It was his eighth or ninth, but Michael didn't dare stop him. He felt guilty and shitty and a little bit gross, so if his job for the night was making sure Alex made it home safe, well, he could do that.

"What?" he asked, hesitant but open enough to hear the answer. That's what he was here for. Alex had drunkenly called him after a few beers, letting him know he wanted to talk. And, well, considering it'd been weeks since he'd seen him, he may have selfishly wanted to hear his voice too.

"My memories of touching you are fuckin' fucked, man," Alex said, laughing a little as he shook his head, "I used to, like, get off to remembering being with you. Or when I was freaking out, losing my damn mind, my safe place was your bed, you know? Fuck, I don't really remember it but I know damn well that the only thing I wanted when I was bleeding out on that battlefield was you and your bed. And now she's just, like, there, you know? Nothing's fucking sacred anymore."

That felt like a stab in the chest. Which, you know, Alex had more experience in that area as well. But it felt like the closest thing. He knew it felt over, he did, but knowing Alex wasn't even trying to push him away this time was brutal. But he didn't leave, didn't argue. He deserved it.

"I'm sorry, Alex," he said as genuine as he could. Because he was. Alex just shrugged.

“It’s whatever, honestly. I think it’s a good thing. I can’t fantasize about what could’ve been anymore,” Alex said, smiling but it was bitter. Michael didn’t know what to say, so he said nothing. “Can I ask you something though? Like, for real, and get a real answer. Because there’s something I don’t get.”

Michael cleared his throat. “Yeah, Alex, anything.”

“Why’d you do it?” he asked honestly, “I know how you felt after. Loved and shit which I get, you got fucked by the two people you wanted to be fucked by, but why’d you do it in the first place?”

“Uh,” Michael said, letting out an uncomfortable breath. It was hard to think back to that moment because it honestly felt like a blur. One minute he was freaking out because they were both hurt and then the next Alex was kissing him and Maria was promising him it was fine. It was good. Now he regretted it like nothing else in the world, but for a moment he felt like that’s what unconditional love must’ve felt like. But it was so short-lived he knew that wasn’t it. “I-I guess I don’t really know.”

“Because I keep thinking about it and I do know you, Guerin, and it doesn’t make sense to me why you’d be down for it. Like, I was your ex and you’d been saying you didn’t want me around for weeks, right? Like, what the fuck. I know why I stayed and went along with it, I didn’t wanna be by myself and I always want you when I feel like that, but you have a different approach to things,” Alex prodded, any sort of filter gone with away with the alcohol in his system. Michael shrugged.

“I think... I think that if I wanted to say no, I couldn’t,” Michael said, slightly wincing at his wording, “I mean, like, you both were looking to me for attention. If I’d said no in the moment, you both would’ve been mad at me.” Alex eyed him with skepticism. “I’m not saying I’m a victim or anything, I’m just saying no didn’t even cross my mind as something I was allowed to say.”

“So, when I said I should go,” Alex said, adding to the weight of Michael’s heart, “And you didn’t cut in when Maria told me to stay, that was because...”

“I don’t really remember,” he admitted, “But I think it’s probably because I didn’t actually want you to go. I mean, you’d just been stabbed. I wanted to watch you and make sure you were okay.”

“By making me kiss your girlfriend?”

“No!” Michael said perhaps a little too fast, “I-I didn’t like that. I don’t like that. That isn’t, like, some weird fantasy I have, you with someone else. Or anyone with anyone else. I don’t like that it’s all mixed up in my head, it feels...”

“Tainted.”

“Tainted,” Michael agreed. Alex nodded, still smiling that sad little smile.

“Yeah, but you still told me I was supposed to feel loved,” he said, that word holding so much venom that it sort of made him want to cry. He hated that he’d fucked up even that special little word

“I’m sorry,” Michael repeated, “That was a fucked up thing for me to say, but it was what I was feeling. I don’t feel it anymore and I shouldn’t have said that to you.”

“Yeah, I get it. High on getting two for the price of one,” Alex hummed. Michael frowned, but he didn’t argue. He deserved it. “Nah, that’s not fair. You were high on the attention of two people who cared about you when you were having emotions which is fair. I get it. I like attention too.”

“You deserve attention.”

“Maybe,” Alex sighed, “You still let me leave the next morning.”

“Alex, it’s not like I wanted you to go. I literally watched you until I couldn’t see you anymore, but I felt like we were at the point where asking anything of you was wrong. I was trying to respect what you wanted,” Michael sighed, “Probably even more so because I knew I fucked up the night before.”

“And because Maria made you feel good,” Alex added like it was common knowledge, “For so long, she expected so little of you, that you could do whatever to make her happy. That feels good. I get why you did it. Still hurts.”

“I am so sorry about everything.”

Alex shrugged, pursing his lips a little as he fiddled with the shot glass. He stuck his finger on the inside and swung it around in circles until it flew off the table. Michael caught it in his palm before it hit the ground, placing it back on the table.

“You know, sometimes I feel like Maria only did it to rub it in my face that she won.”

“No,” Michael said, shaking his head. He still felt a little sick when he thought about it, thought about her cruel admission to what had really been going through her head. “She was testing me, making sure I didn’t want you more than her.”

“I guess so, but earlier that day we’d talked about stuff and I’d told her about how bad I felt when I was with women. And then I defended you to her so she had to know I was still in love with you, she’s not dumb. I feel like she just used all that stuff I confided in her against me to get you. And she used it to force me into a situation where I had to see you together if I wanted my turn,” Alex said, grimacing slightly. Michael really, really felt like shit when he thought about that entire thing. How insensitive could he be? Maybe in the heat of the moment he could’ve justified it, but now? If he didn’t even like thinking about that one awkward kiss that they shared, he couldn’t begin to imagine how gross Alex felt.

“I really am sorry about that. I don’t know, I think that was, like, a good side effect to her. She did it because she wanted, like, me to choose her over you. But it really must’ve freaked her out with how much attention I did give you that night because it didn’t actually affirm shit and made her super paranoid every time I was around you.”

"Really? 'Cause I didn't feel like you gave me enough," Alex admitted, laughing slightly, "Granted I did only want you. My options were limited so I took what I could get, but I just wanted you."

"I think... I think I'm not built for stuff like that. Like I have no desire to do that again and I'm not exactly sure I wanted to before? I don't know, it's weird. Like... I still don't get it sometimes. Never in my life have ever wanted anything more than just you. Not you and someone else, just you. I know that I did have to remind myself a lot to focus on her every time she, like, pulled me her way because she was my girlfriend, but I know myself and I know that, had she not pulled me away and had I not felt that guilt of her being right there, I would’ve been all over you. I’m not good at sharing myself, I don’t think, because it’s not even rewarding if I don’t get to just put all my efforts into making one person feel good. Honestly, the fact I was able to not just solely focus on you in the first place is–"

"Alright, dial it back, Guerin, too much, too much, too drunk," Alex said, holding up a hand to silence him. Michael nodded.

"Sorry," he said again, "I just... I really don't get why I couldn't just say no."

"Manipulation's one hell of a drug."

"But was I even manipulated though? Like, genuinely, I know she said she did it to test me, but, like... It didn't take much coercion. Sure, I was confused, but once I was there, I didn’t try to stop."

"In your defense, you had just been hit over the head with an axe," Alex pointed out, his smile a little less cold than before. Michael felt undeserving.

"Why are you defending me? I'm an asshole," Michael asked. Alex took a deep breath and shrugged.

"Because I am very, very stupid."

"You are the smartest person I know," Michael countered. Alex scrunched up his nose like he didn't buy it.

"Did you know when you start falling in love with someone, your frontal lobe or cortex or whatever just kinda shuts the fuck off? Like, it just decides to shut down because the other parts of your brain are too aware that if you were able to use logic, you’d avoid that person that makes you feel good,” Alex explained, nodding like he was agreeing with himself, “I think that’s why I keep making dumb mistakes around you.”

Michael huffed a laugh. “You’ve walked away from me too many times to blame that.” Perhaps that was the wrong thing to say, but Alex smiled anyway.

“Okay, but that wasn’t logic either. It was hormones and trauma fighting with each other. I am literally the embodiment of daddy issues,” Alex said, a drunken giggle combining with his admission. It slowly faded and left him smiling down at the table. “One more question and I swear I never want to talk about that night again.”

“Fair enough, shoot,” Michael agreed. As uncomfortable as he felt, this was oddly the most honest they’d been with each other probably ever. On some level, it felt good. Even if Alex was shitfaced.

“If you could change how that all happened,” Alex asked, hesitantly looking up at him through his eyelashes, “Would you?”

“God, Alex, you know I would,” he breathed, shaking his head, “You know I would.”

“How?”

“Well, first of all, I would’ve come and found you first because you were fucking bleeding. Like, I still regret going to get my gun first. You could’ve bled out,” Michael scoffed, shaking his head, “But more importantly I would’ve said no. I wouldn’t have kissed her in front of you and I wouldn’t have put you through that. I know... I know it was Maria’s idea, but I still feel guilty that I didn’t say something. I mean, she didn’t even ask if I was interested in something like that, I have never had that conversation with anyone. Do you know how much talking should go into something like that so things don’t get confusing? Like, I know she thought it was going to force me to choose her, but all it did was scare her more because no one fucking talked about anything to make sure everything that happened was okay.”

Alex smiled at him, big and bright and something that really felt out of place in the midst of their conversation. “Look at you. Being all adult and wanting communication.”

“I get why it’s important now. I guess I had to cross a line to realize that,” Michael sighed. 

“Still. Shows growth, I guess,” he said, taking a deep breath. Michael shrugged. It didn’t feel like he took any steps in the right direction. “If I could change it, I would’ve wanted us be alone so I could’ve held you all night by myself.”

“Held me?” Michael scoffed, “Alex, you were the one who was hurt.”

He scrunched up his nose and gave him a sad little look. “You had a bump on the back of your head from where you were hit. I kept waking up on, like, 15 minute intervals to make sure you were still breathing and that it hadn’t gone all mushy.”

Michael’s heart genuinely ached and his whole body nearly doubled over at that information. Because of course Alex would do that. It was Alex, after all.

“I don’t deserve you,” he breathed. Alex smiled and leaned back in his chair.

“Well, you’re in luck, because the idea of being with you again kinda makes me wanna puke, so,” Alex said freely. Michael smiled sadly and nodded.

They were quite for a few minutes longer, but eventually Michael offered to drive him home and he agreed. He paid his bill and then stood up, but the alcohol seemed to hit him harder as soon as he did. That meant Michael had to move in a bit closer which clearly wasn’t what Alex wanted right then, but he couldn’t walk on his own, so he accepted the help.

When they got to his truck, Michael used his telekinesis to assist in a smoother transition and then they were headed home. Not home. Alex’s house.

“Alex,” Michael said after a long stretch of silence, “Can I ask you something?”

“Yeah,” Alex said back, voice soft with fatigue as he laid against the window with his eyes closed. Michael always loved that small little sign of trust that was there even now. 

“Me and you...” Michael started, “Is there no coming back at all? Like, was that the last straw?”

Alex was silent for awhile, so long that Michael was beginning to think he’d fallen asleep. However, as the truck rolled to a stop outside his house, Alex gave his answer.

“You know how it took us working together for you to see me as more than just all pain that was wrapped up?” Alex asked, voice still soft and sweet.

“Yeah.”

“I think I need that,” he said, “I need to make up for all the gross stuff tied to you in my head. I don’t know if that’s even possible, honestly, but that’s what I need for there ever to be a chance of that.”

“Okay,” Michael breathed, a little weight being lifted off his chest, “Okay, I can work with that.”

“Glad you can, now I need to go to sleep.”

With no other eyes around to witness, Michael used solely his telekinesis to help Alex. He wasn’t about to touch him more than he was comfortable with and he’d retired pushing his boundaries for the foreseeable future. He got him to bed, got his prosthetic off, and put a bottle of Gatorade and Ibuprofen on his nightstand for him to drink so he didn’t have to move for them when he woke up.

“Goodnight, Alex,” he told him. 

“Night,” Alex murmured right back.

Michael left feeling a little bit better than he had the day before.

[planetsam]

The impact is jarring.

“Shit, sorry,” the apology comes quickly and from his spot on the ground, Alex tries not to pray for the floor to open up and swallow him whole. He wishes he had two left feet instead of the awful truth, “here, let me—“ he drags his eyes from the hand to the face and inhales sharply.

“Guerin?”

He looks different. Older. But the pain in his eyes is chillingly the same. Alex ignores the hand and finds his footing as he makes his way to his feet. It’s not how he saw this reunion going. Then again, nothing is how he saw it. Michael’s hand lingers for a moment before it falls to his side. He tucks it away before Alex can see the scars and while he appreciates the sentiment, they’ve been burned into the back of his eyes since the hammer was brought down. He focuses instead on Michael and forces himself to take in the man he’s become. He’d be lying if he said it hurts but he’s got no right to feel anything about how Michael’s turned out.

“Hi,” Michael says and however Alex was expecting his voice to sound, small is not it. Something shows on his face because he can pinpoint the instant Michael’s walls come down, “what are you doing here?” He asks.

“That’s—“

“Classified?” Michael offers and Alex rolls his eyes at his tone, “didn’t realize the ufo emporium was hosting actual aliens these days.”

“I was going to say none of your business,” Alex cuts in, “I figured you’d be long gone by the time I came back.”

Michael scoffs, looks away and Alex feels his hackles rise. Michael’s looking for a fight, again. Apparently nothing has changed. The scruffy, hollow look is still the same, he’s still finding sleep in the bottom of a bottle. Alex doesn’t know how someone so bright can throw their lives away like that, but hell there’s a lot about him Alex knows he’ll never understand. He’s got better things to do with his time anyway.

“I guess if you ever came back you’d have known,” Michael sneers. It’d be an ugly thing if there wasn’t something so sad about it.

“I never had a reason to come back,” he says instead, “and you’re right. Now the reason’s classified.

“Well I’ll let you get to your super secret alien business,” he says with a fake salute, “oh there’s a metal detector in there now,” he throws over his shoulder as he walks away, “don’t forget your keys, coins and whatever else you’ve got.”

Alex cringes at the thought of struggling out of his prosthetic. Or presenting that stupid card he was given. His mouth goes dry. He doesn’t want to answer the questions that will follow. Not today. He decides this trip was stupid, he’s not a teenager trying to get out of the house. He’s an adult who can leave whenever he wants.

Besides, he doesn’t exactly need to seek out memory lane when it’s apparently walking around town.

*

“Nothing ever changes with you, does it?”

Michael’s shoulders stiffen and Alex immediately regrets his question. He could blame it on the liquor but he knows that’s not it. Not after a night of watching Michael slip in and out of dark corners with different people. There’s a growing pain in the back of his skull but he’s pushed past worse. Right now he’s focused on Michael. Michael sets down the glass and glares at him.

“You got something to say?” He challenges and Alex feels his muscles tense.

“I just did,” he shoots back.

“Screw you,” Michael snaps and much to Alex’s shock he turns and walks away.

Maria shoots him a look and shakes her head but Alex is past caring. He follows him. He has orders to be here and he can’t do that if every moment Michael is there making different parts of him hurt. He follows him out into the night, wincing at the sounds of a fist slamming into brick. When he gets there Michael has his arms braced against the brick and his face turned away.

“What’s going on?” Alex questions.

“What the hell do you care?” Michael questions.

“There’s no way you’ve been on this kind of bender for this long,” he says, “you’d be dead.”

“Don’t tempt me.”

“That’s not funny,” Alex snaps, “I have to be here,” he says, “I have orders. I have to be here,” Micheal presses his forehead against the brick, “it’s got nothing to do with you. You have—“

“No reason to go on a bender?” Michael fills in.

“Yes,” Alex says.

Michael makes a sound that sends chills down Alex’s spine. It’s a wounded sound, something that makes him think he’s never going to hear a laugh properly again. He had hoped pointing out he didn’t want to be there, that he wasn’t there for him, that it would somehow make things better. But the sound Michael makes makes him want to find a bottle and didn’t until he forgets it. The pain in his head spikes. Before he can help himself a hiss escapes his lips.

Michael’s reaction is instant. He steps out of the darkness and to Alex’s shock, his eyes go from his face to the one thing Alex has tried to keep hidden. Embarrassment sinks into his stomach as a thousand scenarios fly thought his head for how a Michael could have found out. Why he didn’t say anything. Who else could possibly know. Everyone, he reasons with a dry mouth. Everyone must know because it’s not enough that he gets his leg blown off and sent to torture his father with the reminder of how bad a soldier he is. No, he also has to show everyone that he can’t do the simplest thing like walk properly anymore. Michael’s eyes lock on his and Alex feels laid bare, like Michael knows exactly what he’s thinking.

“Alex—“

“I have orders,” he repeats, “this is the only chance I have of serving my country,” Michael cringes, “I have to be here.”

“Yeah I know,” he says in that small voice again.

“No, you don’t,” Alex says, “I have to be here. I have orders.”

“I said I got it!” Michael says loudly, something desperate and defensive in his voice.

Alex doesn’t feel a breeze but there must be one that makes the lid of the trash can slam. It echoes in his rattled brain, sending the coming headache into overdrive. He wants to push past the pain and keep fighting but even he can tell there’s no victory to be had here. Michael seems to know it too. He scrubs his face wipes his hands before hiding them away.

“Just stay away from me,” Michael says, “it’s a small town but you can manage that.”

“The ‘small town’ isn’t the problem,” Alex says.

“Fine,” Michael shoots back, whatever he was about to say is lost to the tight press of his lips. Alex wants to pry his mouth open and snatch them out. Or do something even stupider but all he can do is nod, “see you around,” he says, “or hopefully not.”

Alex watches him walk away and realizes the sight is very, very painful.

**

“How did you know about my leg?”

Michael rolls his eyes as he drops his french fry. He looks annoyed and Alex knows he’s been trying to avoid him. Alex has been trying to avoid Michael in equal measure. It’s not hard on busy days. But proximity to Michael is fucking with his head. He’s turning every stupid moment over so many times it’s giving him literal headaches. He’s trained to push past the pain of things like that. But it’s an annoyance he wants to deal with.

“I googled it,” he says.

“No, you knew exactly where my leg was,” Alex says. Michael presses his lips together and looks away. The pain in his head throbs, “how did you know?”

“I could see the place,” he says, “through your pants. Danger of wearing tight jeans.”

Heat floods Alex’s face even though they both know that’s bullshit. He’s not expecting to see Michael’s face go pink as well, even though the real give away is the usual tell Michael has.

“I can’t tell if it’s worse that you’re lying to yourself or to my face,” Alex says.

“Think about it and get back to me,” Michael replies with a lop sided grin that makes Alex’s stomach do a flip flop he most certainly doesn’t need right now, “can I finish my fries, I gotta get back to work.”

“You have a job?”

“Yeah I have a job,” Michael snaps, though this is different than his usual retorts, “is that hard to believe?”

“A legal job?” Alex repeats.

“Oh my god—yes, Alex, I have a legal job,” Michael says, “Can I get this to go?” He asks loudly and then swivels to face him, “let’s keep avoiding each other.”

“I’m sorry,” Alex blurts out, still trying to process that Michael who has all the appearance and drinking habits of a small town criminal has a job, “I didn’t—“

“Yeah you did,” Michael cuts in, “I’m a mechanic,” he says and that small voice creeps in, the one Alex hates even as he is impressed at Michaels ability to let a stranger in, even a little bit, “I got my ASE.”

“I didn’t know,” Alex says.

Michael shrugs.

Alex turns from the sun as the pain hits harder. Michael swears under his breath and shifts forward but Alex holds up a hand to stop him. He shifts back though out of the corner of his eye Alex can see he’s ready to spring forward.

“I got it recently, that’s why it didn’t come up,” he says, his voice low and urgent, “that’s all.”

“Come up?”

“Of course you already looked me up, I just passed the exam. I don’t even have the certification yet. But we both know i passed, yeah? But it just didn’t come up, that’s all. If you look again it’ll be there now.”

Alex focuses on his voice and his own breathing as the sharp pain recedes. It’s manageable, it’s a linger ache which seems to be the best he gets these days. He looks over to Michael to say something but Michael is somehow already moving fast towards the door. He doesn’t look back as he goes, just gets the hell out of there as fast as he can. Like seeing Alex in pain is still something he doesn’t know how to deal with.

It’s confusing as hell but the bright light makes him turn away and when he looks back the truck is speeding off and Michael’s already gone.

When he goes back and looks it up, Michael’s name is in the database.

But the test is dated six months ago.

***

The headaches aren’t enough to distract him from the fact that he is being lied to.

And not in the usual way.

Alex has been fed lies his entire life. About being wanted and loved, about fitting in, about how if he accepted himself everyone else would too. It’s been a long time since he believed any of them. But the level that it’s been taken to is almost laughable. Almost. It’s weeks before he’s in the same room as Michael again. The funny thing is that some instinctive part of him still tries to trust Michael. Still clings to the brave, brave boy who would throw everything away to protect him.

“Been to a lot of drive ins lately?” Michael asks when they somehow wind up alone.

“Not unless you count my laptop and a humvee,” Alex says.

Michael snorts which is immediately calming and troubling. Michael’s always gotten his sense of humor but he’s always hated the military that hangs over Alex. The military and authority in general. The fastest way to get Michael to do something is to tell him to do the opposite, everyone knows that. Especially Michael himself. But Michael chuckles and Alex feels himself relaxing despite his best efforts to remain angry and on task.

“What about you?” He asks.

“Not really one for the drive in,” Michael says, drumming his thumbs on the bottle.

“Why’s that?” Alex asks.

“Come on, Alex,” Michael drawls.

The heat on his cheeks is back. He can just picture Michael and a long line of girls. Which feels—he doesn’t want to name the feeling that it inspires. He doesn’t have a right to that anymore. Michael can do whatever he wants with whoever he wants in the back of the truck. Instead Alex glances around until Michael gives him a questioning look.

“I’m just trying to decide if it’s safe to sit here,” he says.

Michael laughs in surprise but it’s a real laugh before he clutches his fist to his chest with fake dramatics.

“You know I take good care of my truck.”

Alex shakes his head but doesn’t argue for once because Michael has always taken good care of his truck. It’s why he’s the only person Alex knows who still drives his car from high school and it isn’t a complete death trap. He can also remember a time when he was the only one Michael made out with in his prized truck. Not half of Roswell. The bittersweet feeling lingers but for once the headache isn’t the thing that he’s most focused on. It’s almost nice to be sitting there with him. Even if the others would be back any second.

“So is Roswell as good as you remember?” Michael asks.

“Good? Are we talking about the same Roswell?” Alex asks, “remember when you couldn’t wait to get out of here?”

“Yeah but you did,” Michael points out, but there isn’t a challenge in his words for once, “so how’s it being back?”

Alex shrugs.

He wants to say being back sucks. That he regrets every second he’s spent away dreaming of this place because the reality is worse. He wants to grab Michael’s stupid lapels and demand to know why things are the way they are. Why everyone’s lying to him, why Michael lying to him is so much worse. He wants answers that not even Michael can give him. Like why his leg is gone or his head is hurting or what it’s like to get a full night of sleep. But Michael isn’t the brave boy who protected him and he’s not the type to ask the universe for things it won’t give him.

“I’ve been on worse deployments,” he says.

Michael shuts down.

Alex has computers that would be jealous of the speed which Michael goes silent and closed off. Like magic the rest of them are back and there’s no chance for anything except to sit there in the awkwardness. Alex gets through maybe half the movie before he gives up and slips away as best he can, before anyone can ask if he needs help.

“Nice ride,” Michael says from behind him. Alex glares at his reflection.

“You shouldn’t sneak up behind a solider,” he says.

“Sorry,” Michael says.

Alex glances down and realizes his hand isn’t on his firearm. He doesn’t feel the way that he usually does when people sneak up behind him. It’s another thing that doesn’t make sense in all of this. He turns around but doesn’t move out of the way. He should feel trapped, pinned, afraid. But he doesn’t. The more he thinks on it the more the pain in his head digs in. He’s hand enough of his body betraying him though. He can deal with the pain.

“Why did you follow me?” He asks.

“Came to see if you were okay,” Michael says.

“Why?” Alex asks.

Surprise gives Michael away. Or the lack of it anyway. He’s surprised at how Alex asks so directly but he doesn’t seem like the kind of surprised where there isn’t an answer. Or an answer he doesn’t want to say. He looks like he wants to crawl out of his skin or scream at the top of his lungs. When he reaches for more bullshit, Alex finds his patience snapping at the same time something seems to snap in his head. But he ignores the hot pain, he shoves past it. He’s survived worse than this.

“We used to be—“

“Don’t lie to me,” Alex cuts in, “this isn’t about what we used to be.”

“It always is,” Michael says.

“You’re doing it again,” Alex snaps. Michael blinks and looks confused in a much more honest way, “You keep getting this voice—“ he fights the urge to rub his temples, “this isn’t about what happened ten years ago.”

“You don’t know that,” Michael scoffs and if the wariness in his eyes didn’t give him away, the tongue over his bottom lip and heat in his face do.

“Yes I do,” Alex says, “you’re a miserable liar.”

The comment makes Michael’s jaw drop.

It also makes an explosion go off in his head.

Alex has a high tolerance for pain, it’s a virtue of his upbringing. This isn’t pain. He doesn’t have a word for what this is. It’s like his entire spine is being crushed into itself. His skull is going to break open, it has to. There’s no room for anything else in there. The words keep tumbling over in his head. Miserable Liar. Lying about something that’s just out of reach. He grips Michael’s forearms tighter, he strains to catch at whatever it is that keeps dancing just out of reach. The explosions keep happening, the pain is blinding and so is the heat. It hurts worse than anything but it isn’t the first time.

It isn’t the first time.

He’s been in three explosions, he doesn’t know how he knows that.

He remembers the one that took his leg.

He can’t say how he remembers the one that broke his heart.

And the third—

He reaches for the thought desperately and the answer comes to him a moment before he passes out.

The third took his mind.

****

“Here,” Michael puts the folded up cloth over his eyes, “shhh don’t try to talk,” he says as Alex parts his lips. Michael picks up his finger and puts it on his wrist, “tap once for yes, twice for no,” he says, “you want water?” Alex taps once.

It’s mildly humiliating to have to be helped to drink but the pain tempers the humiliation. Michael helps him lay down again, he sets the water glass to the side. The sound rattles Alex’s brain and Michael grips his hand back, rubbing his fingers over his knuckles until the waves subside.

“What happened to me?” He asks.

Michael seems to know not to tell him not to talk. Alex is touched and offended by the concern in equal measures. Michael doesn’t let go of his hand. Alex doesn’t have it in him to draw circles with his thumb or anything like that but he squeezes Michaels hand. Michael sighs several times like he’s trying to organize his thoughts. Alex opens his mouth to try and help with some kind of basic question but Michael cuts him off.

“You’ve been here for a year,” he says.

“What?!”

Alex shoves himself up before he remembers what a bad idea that is. The cloth goes flying as Michael lunges forward to steady him with one hand behind his neck and the other at his shoulder. There’s also a bin suddenly in his lap that he knows wasn’t there before but it saves him from puking on both of them. A bin magically appearing isn’t more stunning than finding out he’s missing a fucking year of his life. Or that he’s not in Michael’s trailer but some underground space with a chandelier that reeks of Michaels style and is an impossibly far cry from the trailer.

“Why can’t I remember?” He demands. The pain in his head flares and the dots finally connect, “it’s the headaches,” he says in case Michael hasn’t picked up on that. He lifts his head to see Michael’s shoulders sag, “what happened to me?”

“It’s a drug,” Michael says, “they inject it into your spine,” he taps the back of his neck, close to the base of his skull, “it takes away your memories and if you try to get them back,” he motions towards his sorry state.

“Who?” Alex demands. Michael cringes, “my father?”

“Your dad,” he licks his bottom lip, “this guy you were trying to date. Flint—“ he hesitates, “they did Flint first but he helped.”

Alex stares up at him, trying to reconcile the fact that he’s been experimented on, lost a year of his life and apparently was dating someone who helped do this to him. He’s almost grateful when his stomach turns over, though there’s nothing left in there to come out. If Michael hears the dry sob buried in the heaving he lets Alex have at least one shred of dignity and pretends he doesn’t. Alex fights back for control before putting the bucket aside.

“What am I missing?” He says.

“Alex—“ Michael starts, fear in his eyes. It’s fear now, Alex can place it. But it’s not fear of him. Michael’s scared for him. Which would be great if it wasn’t for the fact that he can already feel the throbbing coming back, “I can’t,” Michael says. 
“Yes you can,” Alex replies. Michael hesitates, “I need to know what’s going on,” Alex tells him, “Michael, please, I need to know what they took from me—from us.”

Michael cringes and looks away and Alex realizes he’s stumbled onto something. It makes sense that something would happen if he’s been there a year. He was trying to find a way to get Michael to give him the information he needed to know. Embarrassment curls through him, he deserves worse than hearing he was in two relationships he can’t remember.

“It’s gonna hurt,” Michel says finally.

“Michael,” Alex repeats his name.

“I’m gonna be the one who hurts you. Again,” Alex opens his mouth but Michael shakes his head and seems to come to some kind of decision. He goes for his belt and folds the leather over itself, “it’s been a year,” he says grimly, “you might need this.”

Alex takes the belt and goes to put the leather between his teeth.

“I might hurt you,” he says, “physically.”

Michael shakes his head.

“Trust me, that’s not going to be a problem.”

***

“I never thought I’d miss the days when you just ran away.”

Alex cracks open an eye to see Michael standing there. He’s wearing a black cowboy hat Alex does and doesn’t remember seeing him in. It’s a nice contrast if Max used to be a cop, Alex could remember nothing and he’d still remember the cops around here wear white stetsons. The light only hurts his eyes because he’s wasted and Michael’s positioned himself in the worst way. Which Alex has a feeling isn’t an accident.

“Are you enjoying being on the other side of this?” He asks. Michael shakes his head, “you could be the one who runs away this time,” he offers.

“I’m shit at it,” Michael says.

“Yeah,” Alex agrees.

“You’re shit at it too,” Michael adds, stepping out of the stupid light to join him against the wall.

“I guess we’re both just good at burning our lives down,” Alex muses.

“Guess we are,” Michael agrees, “you gonna stand up?”

Alex considers it but between the liquor and the brawl he was just in, he thinks the ground might be better. Michael nods and suddenly Alex isn’t sitting outside the Pony alone. Michael’s explained everything to him but if Alex had any doubt about how Michael feels it’s pretty much gone when he willingly drops onto the ground next to him so Alex doesn’t have to sit in the ruins alone.

“I was a better fighter when I had two legs,” he says.

“You beat him pretty soundly,” Michael points out, “he just got a few lucky shots in.”

It’s true, he’s sitting on the ground but his brother and his ex are probably gonna be eating liquid meals for a bit. Alex can’t say he regrets it.

“I gave them a chance to explain themselves,” he tells Michael, “I didn’t just attack them.”
 “You don’t have to explain,” Michael says quickly.

“I mean I’m not going to—“ he winces at the thought of Michael holding him down with his fucking mind and wonders why it’s important he reassures him, “if you thought I was.”

“Thanks,” Michael says and there’s no humor in his eyes even though Alex is pretty sure he’s just made a hysterical joke, “I’d understand if you did,” Michael adds, “after—“

“That’s not your fault,” he cuts in.

“Come on,” Michael counters, “we both know that’s not true.”

“It wasn’t,” Alex emphasizes, “I don’t blame you for it.”

Michael hangs his head. Alex doesn’t. There’s a lot of messed up shit in the story Michael told him that Alex could and does blame him for. But him losing his memories, the bomb, the things that led to this? Alex can keep the things he does blame him for separate from that.

“You’re not a saint Michael,” he says, “but you’re not a monster,” he looks over at him, “and this,” he motions to his head, “it’s not your fault.”

He knows Michael doesn’t believe him, he also knows it’s impossible to convince him. He can only hope that Michael doesn’t think he has to self-flagellate. Michael sighs and cracks his knuckles. He isn’t hiding his hands anymore. Alex wishes it was that easy to feel like he doesn’t have to hide his leg. Or lack of. It’s strange to have Michael have so much and Alex have nothing. On one hand he’s happy for him. On the other—Alex can put that feeling aside in the place where he puts all his feelings about Michael that he doesn’t know how to deal with.

“Are you done burning down your life?” Michael asks. Alex shrugs, “Alex?”
 “That wasn’t my life,” he says simply, “I’m done if they are,” he offers.

Michael sighs loudly.

They both know the answer to that.

“You know this whole time I thought all of this was my fault,” Michael says.

“Are you disappointed?” Alex asks and the sarcasm brings a genuine smile to Michael’s face. His nose wrinkles.

“You know I kinda am,” he says.

Alex can’t remember the last time he laughed until his ribs hurt. It isn’t even that funny. Maybe it’s just that laying in the back of an alleyway with Michael laughing in the wreckage of both their lives, there’s something real. Even if that something is just a fucked up connection he can’t fully explain. It’s funny and it’s tragic and the wetness on their cheeks could be from either of those things. Or just from the exhaustion and pain that’s ruled their lives for God knows how long. A year? Ten? Always?

Michael looks over at him and it’s the easiest thing to push himself closer.

It’s Michael who pulls back.

“We can’t,” he says. Alex stares at him but lets him keep going, “I can tell you the fucked up shit I did, but you don’t remember,” he says, “that’s not fair to you,” Michael adds, squeezing his eyes shut, “shit none of this is fair to you.”

“I might never remember,” Alex points out.

“Yeah,” Michael says.

“Did you stop caring?” He asks. Michael shakes his head, “could you?”

Michael doesn’t hesitate when he shakes his head. Alex knows he feels more for Michael than he has for anyone. But those feelings haven’t stopped either of them from doing fucked up things to each other. He can’t blame Michael for not wanting to do anything more with them. It’d be a lot easier if he thought that was what was happening.

“I haven’t stopped caring for you,” he says.

“You did,” Michael tells him, “not that I blame you. With all the fucked up shit I did.”

Alex nods.

“You did a lot of messed up things,” he says, “but I don’t think I stopped caring for you,” he looks at Michael, “deep down I don’t think you believe that either. I think you want to, but I don’t think you do.”

Michael looks away. Alex hates being the manifestation of Michael’s need to punish himself more than he hates any role he’s been shoehorned into. Including being Jesse Manes’ son. He doesn’t have the words for that. He’s not sure the words for it have been invented. For someone you would rather sit on the ground with than be warm and dry. Or anywhere else. Alex has wanted to fit in places before but he’s never found that sense of acceptance he remembers with Michael.

“Do you think we can get past it?” He asks.

“I don’t know,” Michael says, “do you want me to go?”

“No.”

**

“You sure this is okay?”

Alex looks up at the sight of Michael standing in his doorway. He nods without any hesitation. Michael is very much of the ‘alternative living’ dwelling but living above a bunker with alien stuff has draw backs. Like some long lost alien relative coming and blowing it up. Alex isn’t sure how he beat Isobel to the offering of Michael coming back with him, but he was pulling into his driveway with Michael’s truck following. Alex is at least grateful the truck survived with only minor dings.

“I’m sorry about your bunker,” he says. Michael nods, “is there anything I can do?”

“Can we look for the piece of my ship?”

Alex nods, grateful for anything to do. He can’t remember and Michael only has a few clues like the bag he shoved it in. So they turn the house upside down, pausing only for snacks and beers. It beats dreaming about Michael losing another home and him being powerless to stop it. Of course the cabin with all its secrets doesn’t make this easy. Why would anything be easy when it comes to them.

“This is like being drunk and hiding something from yourself,” Michael says, half under the bed, “you know?”
 “No,” Alex says honestly, “the stuff I hid I wanted to keep hidden. From my dad, or enemy insurgents.”

“There’s a difference?” Michael asks. Alex snorts and lays back, looking up at the wood beams, “you’re too good at this.”

“Sorry,” he says, “I do it professionally, if that’s any consolation.” 
“Not really.”

Alex tilts his head. He spent years picking out patterns and discrepancies. Code and buildings aren’t terribly different when it comes to the patterns. And he’s always been good when it comes to discrepancies. He rolls over to the painting against the wall.

“Can you get the painting off?”

Michael comes out from under the bed and blows his curls out of his eyes in a gesture that shouldn’t be so adorable. Or so hot. He looks at the painting and frowns. Then it swings out, hinged to the wall. The keypad there is like a cruel joke. He likes to think he knows himself but the missing year taunts him.  He looks at the pad and then at Michael. Michael stares at the pad for a moment and then punches in a code.

“Glad I told you,” Alex says, reaching in and pulling out the bag.

“You didn’t,” Michael says. Alex looks over at him, surprised.

“What was the code?”

“Date of our high school reunion,” Michael says.

Alex isn’t sentimental about a lot of things. Not in any version of himself. Tangible things can get broken too easily to be important. He passes Michael the bag and looks inside the safe. Everything in it is practical. Which he should have expected but finds himself disappointed all the same. He wishes his memories were in there. But the ship piece will have to do. He looks as Michael pulls out the piece of glass, the colors going blue around his handprints.

“It’s beautiful,” Alex says.

Michael nods, turning the piece over in his hands. The light trails across where he touches, changing the colors reflected across his skin. He’s beautiful. Alex is grateful that he was able to hide it, that he was able to give it back. No matter what happened in between that and him losing his memories. It’s a small thing but Alex has long since learned to be grateful for small victories. Especially when the big ones are so far between.

“I’m glad we found it,” he says, breaking through whatever spell has fallen over Michael and the last remaining piece of his home. It’s jarring and he wants to snatch the words back, even as something in the marrow of his bones tells him to stop him. That the longer he stares the more likely it is he’ll go. “What’s the date?”

“The date?” Alex nods and Michael seems to jerk back to life, “oh yeah,” he rattles it off and Alex tucks the numbers away, memorizing them easily.

“I have to figure out a way to remember these,” he says, “in case my dad tries something like this again.”

“You can just ask me,” Michael offers.

Alex’s mouth goes dry. He wants to say that he believes their friendship would be strong enough that if it happened that would be true. But the things they don’t say or can’t say have started piling up again already. There’s an ache that hangs over their relationship, their friendship, and Alex doesn’t know how to make it go away.

“Yeah but just in case,” he says. 
“In case of what?” Michael presses. Alex blows out a breath.

“I don’t know, in case you decide to take a trip somewhere,” he says, “or you meet someone and move away. Or you’re busy,” he shrugs, “you know, just in case.”

He closes the safe and gives Michael a good extra few seconds to collect himself. He hears Michael put the glass piece back in the bag and he still takes his time before turning to face him.

He isn’t expecting Michael to be so close.

“I meet someone new?” Michael repeats.

“It’s going to happen eventually,” Alex points out then shakes his head, “no it already did. We both did.”

“And look where that got us.”

It’s a challenge and Alex desperately wants to fight back. But Michael has been clear—as clear as Michael ever is about his feelings when he isn’t broadcasting them. He has a year of fucked up memories of them that Alex has made his peace with he’ll never get back. It’s like his leg. They’re gone. There’s a time to mourn and then it’s time to move on. He can’t blame Michael for not wanting to be with someone who can’t remember moments like the ones he has. He can only blame him for not wanting to move past it with him.

“You said in the alley—“
 “I know what I said,” Michael snaps, “but I didn’t know.”

“Know what? What changed?”

“I didn’t know you had the reunion as the code to your safe.”

Alex rolls his eyes.

“You’re the only one whose surprised at that,” he shoots back, “I told you—“

He gets why Michael put the glass piece down when his back hits the wall and Michael’s lips find his. The world slips away as he melts into the feeling. If he remembers nothing ever again he’ll remember the taste of Michael’s mouth. How he presses up the extra quarter inch like it makes a fucking difference. His hands are on Alex’s cheeks and then at his waist like he can’t figure out where to touch first. The frantic energy crackles between them and Alex has no idea how he didn’t know Michael was an alien. Or maybe Michael being special just eclipsed all of it.

Any awkwardness Alex envisioned for his first time without both his legs is gone. Michael doesn’t cringe at his prosthetic and when the bed moves in a way that’s got nothing to do with what they’re doing, Michael doesn’t have a chance to be embarrassed. They lay on his bed after gasping unsteady breaths.

“I guess it’s a good thing you didn’t make up the couch,” Michael says.

Alex might feel love drunk but that doesn’t stop him from smacking Michael with the pillow.

* “I should have known when you said there was a metal detector,” Alex realizes aloud.

Michael cringes and ducks his head, focusing back on the car he’s working on. Because he is actually a very good mechanic and all it takes is a simple sign saying his customers can find him in Alex’s driveway for the operation to move there temporarily. From his spot on the porch Alex can work without the sun in his eyes while Michael buries himself in cars.

“I was just trying to keep you from getting those headaches,” he says.

“The UFO Emporium still runs on floppy disks,” Alex says, still flabbergasted he fell for it, “I can’t believe I fell for that.”

“To be fair,” Michael begins, stepping out from under the hood, “I was banking on you still thinking your leg was new and being too embarrassed to risk it.”

“No I know,” Alex says, “but I worked there, I should have known there was no way they would install a metal detector.”

“They might one day,” Michael offers.

“If they do we should move,” Alex says turning back to his screen, “it’ll be a sign of the apocalypse.”

“Or an alien invasion.”

Alex rolls his eyes and looks over at Michael who flashes a grin that makes his cheeks burn. The alien thing is, in some ways, easier to get used to than openly dating. Which seems backwards in his head but it’s not in this situation.

“Speaking of signs of the apocalypse, invasions and unbelievable things,” Michael says, “you know we’ve been dating a month.”

“I know,” Alex says, “that reminds me, I changed the safe combination to today,” he glances up at Michael, “in case I forget.”

Despite them dating for a month and all the other stuff, the gesture does exactly what Alex was hoping it would. Michael goes pink around the ears and blows his curls off his forehead before turning back to the car.

“I’ll remember,” he says.

“I know.”

[xfirepilot]

title: pumpkin spice and everything nice (ao3)

summary: when kyle suggests pumpkin picking and couple pumpkin carving contests, things get competitive 

author’s note: thanks to @haloud for the fic title :)

“Do you think this one is okay?” Isobel asked Gregory, picking up a pumpkin from the ground. Gregory raised an eyebrow at the question, looking at the seemingly normal looking pumpkin, before looking beyond Isobel to see his younger brother and Michael in their own little world.

Michael had his arm around Alex, while using his other arm to try and get the beanie to stay atop his own head. Greg could hear Alex’s laughter as the curls made it impossible before Michael instead placed the beanie on Alex’s head.

Watching as Alex turned to look at Michael with a grin, he was interrupted by someone clearing their throat.

Isobel.

“They’re sickenly cute aren’t they?” She asked, before she pushed the pumpkin she chose into Gregory’s arms and he took it without complaint.

He could only shake his head softly before looking at his girlfriend.

“Just haven’t seen my brother this happy in a long time.” The statement was relatively true. Alex had been happy with Forrest Long a few months ago, but they broke up amicably when Forrest realized his time in Roswell writing his book was up and he left the town looking for a new muse.

Now though, Alex was so happy that his older brother didn’t know what to make of it.

“Well let’s go get the lovebirds. My feet are killing me.” The expensive boots she was wearing were not ones you’d wear to a pumpkin patch, but the glare Isobel gave him when he suggested different attire made that attempt pointless.

“Where are the rest of the gang anyway?” He asked, noting that Max, Isobel, Rosa, Maria and Kyle were nowhere to be seen in the huge field of pumpkins they were currently in.

“Gift shop,” she stated, before pulling Gregory along to where the two men were.

“Michael, I’m not that cold,” They could hear Alex say as they watched Michael zip up Alex’s hoodie. It was only 50 degrees out, but there was a strong wind coming in that day and Alex kept getting the chills as they walked through the pumpkin patch.

“You keep telling yourself that, because I can feel you shivering.” He pulled Alex into his arms and kissed him on the forehead, before making his way down his face, kissing his nose and each cheek before finally getting to his lips.

“Okay, break it up.” Isobel said, a smirk appearing on her face as they broke apart. Michael looked affronted, while Alex just shook his head.

“Did you two choose your pumpkin?” She asked, before taking notice of the huge pumpkin on the ground beside them.

Michael picked it up, “Yep. We are going to kick everyone’s ass at this couple’s pumpkin carving contest.”

“Yeah, yeah sure. You haven’t seen what Rosa can do when she gets creative with her art. We’re definitely going to lose to her and Maria.” She saw what Rosa could do the few times she visited her in rehab and she was impressed.

Also incredibly disappointed that she was also going to lose this contest.

“We’ll see about that,” Michael muttered, grabbing Alex by the hand and walking towards the gift shop and cafe that the farm had. They could faintly hear Alex ask if they had hot chocolate and Michael hurriedly agreed to buying him one.

“We’re really going to lose aren’t we?” Greg asked, turning towards Isobel.

“Afraid so sweetie,” and gave him a peck on the lips.

------

“Kyle, she’s cheating!” Michael exclaimed a few hours later at Alex’s house. His entire living room had the furniture and his guitar case moved to one side so they could put newspapers down on the floor as they carved their pumpkins. Kyle came up with the idea about a month prior, after everything with Mr. Jones ended, the alien no longer in the picture. Alex suggested his house as it wasn’t as far out of the middle of town as Max’s or as clean and pristine as Isobel’s. The idea of having pumpkin all over Isobel’s floors or table nearly gave her a heart attack. She readily agreed to Alex’s house and the date was set.

Kyle was the only one standing as he walked around to see how everyone was doing. Isobel and Gregory were doing terribly, as their design they were carving came out more deformed than they expected. Kyle could barely contain the grin that appeared on his face while Isobel gave a long sigh as she sat next to Gregory as he tried and failed to make it look presentable.

Max and Liz were doing a bit better, but Michael’s note about Liz cheating did hold true as she tried to ask Max to use his powers to mess up everyone else’s pumpkins.

No matter how much he wanted to win this contest with their giant pumpkin literally referred to as the “Big Max,” by the people at the farm, Max himself declined that suggestion, not ready for Michael to yell at him. Their relationship was getting better and not even a pumpkin carving contest was going to ruin it, no matter how childish the fight would be.

“Michael, calm down,” Alex suggested calmly, grasping Michael’s hand gently and Michael’s grip on his knife loosened as he finished carving. He looked proudly at his work before Alex gave him a kiss on the cheek.

“You did great babe.”

“Not as great as us though!” Rosa exclaimed, turning her pumpkin around to show everyone.

Their mouths dropped open as they examined her carving and Kyle let out a laugh.

“Michael, we totally lost.” Alex stated, looking down at their own pumpkin.

Rosa’s E.T. carved masterpiece was on another level and Maria smirked beside her, proud of how talented her girlfriend was.

“That’s my girl,” she stated, giving Rosa a quick kiss before looking up with a raised eyebrow at Kyle for the results.

“Well, let’s start with last place. In last place, we have...Isobel and Gregory,” Isobel pouted, before noting that Gregory was still trying to fix the carving, “We lost sweetie.” The older man grumbled, dropping the knife. Isobel could hear Rosa laugh in the background as she looked at their pumpkin.

Kyle took a step towards Liz and Max next, “In third place, we have Max and Liz. Not bad, but not great.” Max and Liz both sighed, and Kyle noted that Liz turned to glare at her boyfriend. Kyle could see that Liz would never grow out of her competitive nature. Michael snorted, “Guess Big Max was no match for Little Max’s carving skills.”

Taking a step towards Alex and Michael, Kyle spoke, “In second place, we have Michael and Alex. Great job gentlemen, but well...you know.” He could only gesture towards Rosa’s alien inspired carving to show them why they didn’t win.

“In first place and receiving a $50 gift card to the new incredibly expensive Italian restaurant in town...Rosa and Maria,” He handed them the gift card and Rosa held it proudly while Maria laughed at the sad reactions from everyone.

“Come on guys,” she got up and grabbed Rosa’s hand and waited for her girlfriend to pick up the pumpkin. “Let’s put the lights inside them and put them on display outside.”

As everyone got up and did just that, Kyle was left alone to start cleaning up everything. After watching him nearly slipping on the newspapers, Michael let out a laugh, “Think fast Valenti,” the words came out of his mouth as a beer came floating towards the doctor.

As he got stable standing on his own two feet and grabbed the beer, he looked at the curly haired alien who was dating his best friend.

“Thanks,” he opened the bottle and took a swig.

“Thanks for this idea man,” Michael looked from Kyle to the front door where Alex was coming in with Maria and Rosa, laughing along to something they were saying. “We all really needed this, but especially Alex. This level of normalcy, we never had it before.” He played with the beer bottle in his own hand before he continued, “Now that we’re officially dating, just hanging out with friends is nice. Before it was always a secret and no one really knew and we never had a real definition to what we were.”

Kyle looked at Michael, seeing a whole new side to the mechanic he never saw before and never expected to, before shrugging. “Not a problem Guerin.”

“Hey, what’s up with you two?” A new voice joined the conversation, and both turned to see Alex standing next to Michael.

Michael shook his head, before grabbing Alex’s hand. “Nothing to worry about. Just thanking the good doctor over here.”

Alex looked between the two of them, before shrugging. Kissing Michael on the cheek, Alex let go of Michael’s hand and set off towards the rest of the mess that was being cleaned up in the living room.

“So….we’re watching E.T. right?” Rosa asked 10 minutes later, as she planted herself on the couch that has now moved back to its original spot.

“I think I have the DVD,” Alex muttered, going through his extensive movie collection. Michael could only laugh as his nerdy boyfriend started pulling out his DVDs.

“Ah ha!” Alex exclaimed, pulling the movie out and Michael used his telekinesis to open the DVD player for Alex to put the movie in.

Each couple took a spot in the living room and as Alex got up to sit next to Michael on the couch, he turned to look at his boyfriend. The alien turned his head to look back at Alex and smiled softly at him.

“Happy fall,” he whispered, as the movie started playing in the background.

Alex kissed him on the lips before he spoke, “Happy fall.”

“Some people want to watch a movie, boys,” Rosa stated, glaring at them as she threw popcorn at their heads.

One piece of popcorn got stuck in Michael’s hair and Michael grabbed it before throwing it in his mouth.

“Delicious,” he stated before turning to capture Alex’s lips on his own.

[pastelwitchling]

Kyle talks to Michael about Alex.

Kyle had had a strange pain in his chest since he’d accepted the surgeon’s offer, but as he stepped into the Wild Pony and saw Alex at their usual table, looking everywhere at once and tapping his fingers on his beer bottle, clearly uncomfortable with being alone, it was like a window suddenly opened to his heart.

A smile tugged at his lips. Alex saw him and smiled himself, raising a hand in greeting.

As Kyle slid into the booth, he said, “I have a raging headache in four corners of my mind, and only one of them is from my hospital shifts.”

Alex huffed a chuckle. “I get the feeling.”

“Right,” he nodded. “I keep forgetting that you’re in the club, too.”

“The club?”

“The We’re-Pretty-Much-On-Call-All-The-Time-Because-Someone-Always-Needs-Something Club.”

“Ah,” Alex leaned back in his seat, and handed Kyle the second bottle he’d ordered. “That club. It’s not so bad, being useful.”

He raised a brow. “That bad? I thought you liked your new job.”

“‘Liked’ may be a strong a word,” he confessed. “It’s definitely interesting.”

“And your boss?”

He sighed. “I’m still trying to crack him. What about you? Have you heard back from that hospital in California?”

Kyle looked down, and huffed a chuckle. “I think you’re the only one that’s asked me that. Come to think of it, I think you’re the only friend I have that doesn’t just call me for rescue.”

Alex’s smile dimmed. “So you have heard from them.”

He nodded. “And I accepted their offer.”

Alex said nothing, and Kyle looked up, expecting disappointment. But Alex wasn’t looking at him. He was staring off into the crowd of cowboys drinking by the pool table, his lips pursed, his brows furrowed.

“Do you hate me?”

“I’m sad,” he confessed, the corner of his lips tugged up in a soft smile. “I’ll miss you.”

Kyle felt a lump in his throat. For two days, he’d been deliberating his choices, wondering if it was the right thing to do. Everyone here, after all, needed him for one thing or another. He was worried he’d be letting people down. But Alex . . .

“Are you disappointed?”

He shook his head. “What do you mean?”

“I mean,” he hesitated, “I’m the resident alien doctor. What’re are they going to do if I’m not here?”

Alex raised a brow like it was obvious. “Manage.”

“Come on, Alex,” his shoulders fell. “You can’t fool me into thinking that you don’t care what happens to Michael.”

“All I’ve ever cared about is Michael,” he said simply, without doubt or pause. “But they’re not alone. I’m here, Liz is here. And you’ve done enough.”

“But you’ve always advocated for – for friendship, and being there for the people you love!”

“And you have been,” Alex chuckled. “And you will be. You’re moving to another state, not another planet. If it gets really bad, and I really can’t think of anything else, I’ve got your number.”

Kyle clenched his jaw. “But –”

“Kyle,” he leaned in, smiling. His eyes were glassy. “Take it from someone who built a career out of the military, and moved on. It’s time to tap out.”

Kyle didn’t know what to say. He didn’t have another argument, not with Alex’s eyes and words so sincere. Alex shrugged. “It’ll just be Roswell’s loss.”

He stared, searching for any sign of mockery or sugarcoating. But this was Alex. He didn’t lie, not for anyone.

He opened his mouth to speak, found the words lodged in his throat, then tried again. He really hadn’t realized how badly he’d needed Alex’s permission.

“Coming from you, Manes,” he confessed, “that means everything.”

 On his way home that night, and after a hug from Alex and a promise that he would come over the next day to help him start packing, Kyle realized there was one more thing he couldn’t leave without doing. One last duty that he owed his best friend.

So instead of going straight home, he turned a road and into the junkyard. Michael Guerin sat in front of the bonfire with a beer in hand, that stupid hat on his head, and raised a disinterested brow at Kyle as he stepped out.

“Well,” he said, “this is a surprise. The good doctor needs something from little old me?”

“Actually,” Kyle said, “yeah, I do.” Michael just stared, and he shrugged. “More of an order, actually.”

Michael started to smirk and leaned forward on his knees. “You’re gonna give me orders.”

“Just one,” Kyle said, hands in his pockets. He supposed he should’ve been more hesitant, more afraid. Michael, after all, was a dangerous loose wire even when he was sober, and he’d been on edge for whatever reason for the past few days.

But then Kyle remembered the dark circles around Alex’s eyes, the slight twitch of his fingers, the way he seemed to be struggling with the weight of Deep Sky and everything that came with it on his shoulders. And Michael. Always Michael.

“I need you to look after Alex.”

Michael’s smirk faltered. “Pardon me?”

“You heard me, Guerin,” he sighed, not in the mood to play back-and-forth. Not anymore. “Look after Alex. He’s not okay.”

That got Michael’s attention, and his eye twitched. “What’s wrong with him?”

Kyle tilted his head. “Oh I don’t know, why don’t you ask him? Or is it only that Alex is allowed to help you, and never the other way around?”

He stood. “Watch it, Valenti.”

“I have been,” he said. “For the past couple of years, I have been careful around you, Guerin, because part of me knew that whatever you broke in Alex, I can just fix. But I’m leaving town, and honestly? I’m scared for him. He’d never ask for help, but there has to be someone who cares enough about him to offer it anyway.”

Michael clenched his jaw and swallowed. “And you think that’s me?”

“I need it to be,” Kyle admitted, “because Alex doesn’t want anyone else.” Michael’s face fell. “He’s never wanted anyone else. So it’s either you, or I find some way to take him with me.”

Michael’s eyes flared, but Kyle held up a hand to silence him. “I’m not, Guerin, but I would. I can’t leave him here alone knowing he’s just going to keep being used.”

“I don’t use Alex,” he growled.

“No?” Kyle scoffed. “Did you know that he left the Air Force just last week?”

Michael looked like he’d been shot.

“With full honors?” he went on. “Did you know that he’s been recruited by the same secret organization that shot Max and drugged Jenna? Or that he’s already been given a mission? Do you have any idea how exhausted he is?”

When Michael didn’t answer, apparently too consumed with taking in all of this information, Kyle shook his head.

“You wouldn’t, would you? Because it’s all about you, all the time.” He shrugged. “Alex doesn’t mind, so why should you?” He shook his head, already starting to walk back to his car. “He deserves better than that.”

Leaving Michael standing in the desert, Kyle got into his car and drove away, finally feeling like he’d wiped the slate clean with his best friend.

*

Michael didn’t know why he was here. He walked the length of Alex’s porch, waiting for Alex, not having a clue as to where he could be. He realized there’d been a lot of that since that year away dismantling Project Shepherd. He had less and less to do with Alex, and it gave him a headache beyond anything else had.

How could he not know where Alex was? How could he not have asked? How did Kyle know?

Because Kyle pays attention to Alex, a voice in his head scorned. You don’t.

Michael clenched his jaw, still a little tipsy from his self-loathing beers, and ran his fists through his curls. Alex’s porch started to upend itself, the hardwood floors battling against the nails keeping them down, and Michael gasped, settling everything back in its place.

Just then, Michael caught a pair of headlights and squinted only for a second before Alex parked and turned off the car.

His heart started to rattle and his breaths came out quicker at the sight of Alex in his flannel and jeans. He missed him. He had no idea how badly he had until he’d come back, until he got to talk to him that first night a few days ago – drunk then, too – but he missed him. He missed him every second he was away, and somehow missed him more when he was here.

Alex had a brow raised, but Michael was studying his face. He saw it clearly now. The dark shadows under his eyes, his hollow cheeks, his hair sticking up in perfect, messy strands like he’d been running his hands through them all day, his stubble. How could he have not noticed?

“Uh oh,” Alex sighed at the look on his face. “Something’s wrong, isn’t it?”

Michael swallowed. Right, he thought. Because Alex only thought he showed up when he needed something.

He pushed past the ever-present lump in his throat and asked, “Why would something be wrong, Private?” He purposely used the nickname. “Can’t I just come say hi?”

Alex glanced down at the word Private, and back up again. He smiled and moved past Michael to open his door. “Not in my experience. Seriously” – he stood by the door, and nudged Michael inside – “what’s wrong?”

Michael didn’t budge, still smirking though it felt hollow. “Why didn’t you tell me about the Air Force?”

Alex looked startled that Michael knew. Did he really just never expect Michael to care about what was going on with him at all?

He shrugged. “It – uh – it was recent. Who told you? Max?”

Michael stared, then started to chuckle incredulously. “Did everyone but me know?”

Alex was not humoring him. “I told Greg and Kyle. They’ve both been spending time with Maria, and she’s been spending time with Max, I figured one of them must’ve mentioned it to her, and she must’ve mentioned it to him – look, would you please just come inside?”

Michael’s laughter faded and he pressed his lips together. He was still smiling, but his eyes burned. Alex seemed to realize he wouldn’t move on his own, and he gently took Michael’s jacket sleeve, tugging him in.

Once they were both in the living room, Alex set to work on a pot of tea. As he handed Michael a mug, Michael saw the light glimmering off a silver ring on his finger. His brows furrowed.

“That’s new.”

“Oh,” Alex glanced at it. “Yeah. So –”

“Wasn’t that the same ring Long had?”

“Yep.”

Alex was clearly avoiding his eyes. Michael was relentless, a burning in his chest forcing the words out.

“He gave it to you?”

“No,” Alex said. “This one’s mine.”

“Is this about that secret organization you joined?” Michael demanded. “Or was that recent, too?”

Alex smiled as he straightened, understanding dawning. “So Kyle told you. No wonder you’re wound so tight.”

“Meaning?”

“Meaning it’s one thing when my own brother knows a secret about me before you do,” Alex said, taking a seat at the end of the couch. “But Kyle knowing it first?” He scoffed and shook his head.

Michael leaned forward, glaring. “So I’m jealous,” he spat. “So what? Why does Kyle get to know more about you than I do?”

“He’s my best friend,” Alex said simply. “We just talk about ourselves around each other.”

“But you don’t talk about yourself to me.”

“Not usually,” Alex agreed.

“Why?” he demanded. “I’m more important?”

“Yes,” he said simply, and Michael clenched his jaw.

“That’s really what you think of me?”

“I think the world of you, Michael,” he said, and Michael faltered. “You’re everything to me.” He smiled. “You think I don’t tell you about what I’m doing because I don’t think you care? I don’t tell you because you’re all I care about. I was going to tell you about the Air Force, I swear, just . . . not yet.” He looked down at his hands, his thumb rubbing the backs of his fingers. “Some of this stuff hurts to talk about, and I just don’t . . . I don’t want to think about it yet.”

Michael’s brows furrowed. “You’re . . . sad about leaving the military?”

He scoffed halfheartedly, slumping against the couch. “My whole life was the military. I had a family. Now I . . . don’t. I just need a minute to adapt.”

Michael tried to consider that, to be sympathetic, but he couldn’t be. For one obvious reason.

“But I’m your family.”

Alex huffed a laugh, and sniffled. He nodded. “I know.” He exhaled shakily, glancing at Michael, then stretched his arms high above his head. Michael was so distracted with his shirt riding up and revealing smooth, delicious skin that he didn’t notice Alex was lying down until his head was on his lap.

Michael froze, not knowing what to do.

“Hold still,” Alex murmured, his eyes already closed. “I haven’t slept in days and I’m exhausted.”

Slowly, Michael set a hand down on Alex’s waist, the other in his hair. His own heart hammered when Alex’s body melted under his touch and he seemed, for the first time since he’d seen him back, relaxed.

He leaned back on the couch, unable and unwilling to look away from Alex. “Then sleep, Private,” he whispered. “I’ll keep you safe.”

[angrycowboy]

001 rnm, 002 malex, 003 maria deluca :)

Gema, this is probably the most on brand ask ever for me.

----RNM----

Favorite character: the disaster bisexual alien cowboy himself, Michael Guerin

Least favorite character: Does Steph count? Because I’m not counting Jesse here, since he’s everyone’s least favorite.

5 Favorite ships (canon or non-canon): Malex, Echo, Miluca, Kyliz, Camluca

Character I find most attractive: Jenna Cameron

Character I would marry: Maria DeLuca

Character I would be best friends with: Alex Manes

An unpopular opinion: I don’t think S2 was as bad as the fandom makes it out to be - was it messy? Yes. But I don’t believe it’s this hellfire where absolutely nothing makes sense.

My canon OTP: Malex, obviously.

Non-canon OTP: Camluca and Marliz

Most badass character: Liz Ortecho

Pairing I am not a fan of: Kylex

Character I feel the writers screwed up: Definitely Maria - I feel like there hasn’t been anywhere near enough on-screen development for her compared to other characters (that’s not to say it doesn’t exist because it most certainly does)

Favorite friendship: Alex and Maria

Character I want to adopt or be adopted by: Arturo

----Malex----

When I started shipping it: during the pilot (i watched the first 4 episodes all at once the week before 1x05 aired)- that first interaction between them, and then that first interaction at the reunion, and then the kiss! these fuckers own my soul now because of that damn forehead touch

My thoughts: Watching them in S2 learn that whole friends thing that Alex talked about wanting in 1x09 has been one of my favorite parts of S2. Giggling at the Long Farm? The way they look at each other (fools!). Michael asking Alex for something for once. Gah, it’s all beautiful.

What makes me happy about them: To see them work at wanting to be better for the other. That despite them saying they thought they’d end up together, they really do still believe it, and their actions really do show how much they still love one another.

What makes me sad about them: Their miscommunication - it’s the most frustrating thing about them, that it’s gone on for so long. But I think S2 showed that they’re working toward finally working that out, and getting better at it.

Things done in fanfic that annoy me: Alex sad and lonely pining over Michael dating Maria - I prefer canon Alex who in 2x01 doesn’t sit around wallowing around in a depression but instead gets his ass to the morgue to help Liz and in 2x02 decides he’s going to help Michael find information on his mother anyway; Michael having to grovel for Alex’s “forgiveness” for dating Maria - Alex broke up with Michael multiple times knowing he wasn’t ready to be out and in a relationship the way Michael wanted.

Things I look for in fanfic: Communication! I love fics that explore them learning to talk and work past their issues.

My kinks: Apparently communication with these two, lol.

My happily ever after for them: Therapy, obviously. Because everyone in Roswell needs it. But also, Michael moving into Alex’s house so it’s their house, and Michael kinda learning that everything doesn’t have to be transactional. And Alex learning that it’s okay to want things and doing it all the time. 

Who is the big spoon/little spoon: Michael is the little spoon, obviously.

What is their favorite non sexual activity: Something with music - writing songs, Michael playing the guitar, Alex on the keyboard... them having their dad band.

----Maria DeLuca----

How I feel about this character: Other than she is perfect?

All the people I ship romantically with her: Everyone? Liz, Max, Michael, Kyle, and Jenna all work for me (even if I prefer some more than others)

My non-romantic OTP for this character: her and Alex, they are platonic soulmates for sure

My unpopular opinion about this character: She was given character development over the first two seasons, and it is possible to sympathize with her, and understand her actions if you care to look. 

One thing I wish had happened/would happen with this character in canon: That she’d been brought in on the alien secret sooner. It isolated her character for far too long.

My het ship: Miluca

My fem/slash ship: Camluca or Marliz

My OT3: Malexa 

A headcanon fact: She loves to shop for little nick-knacks to place around the Wild Pony, nothing is too weird or bizarre for her

[bestillmyslashyheart]

The Red Name pt 4

part one || part two || part three

The bed was cold when Michael woke up. The sun was high in the sky and Alex was long gone. All that was left in the whole cabin were the sheets on the bed and Michael’s phone on Alex’s pillow. The notification light was blinking and Michael already didn’t care about what anyone had to say to him right now. 

He unlocked it anyway when he saw the new email icon. He never got emails. 

It was from Alex.

From: alex.manes@gmail.com

To: m.guerin47@gmail.com

We should’ve talked. That was always our problem, if we’re honest. Too much sex and not enough talking.

I’m glad we didn’t though. You were right, we’d just make each other sad and angry and that’s not how I wanted to spend my last night with you. Because that’s what it was. Regardless of what happens on my deployment, we both know this thing between us is in the past and it’s time I gave up and moved on like you’ve managed to do. 

Over the last two years I wrote you a lot of emails. Basically whenever I wanted to talk to you but couldn’t I’d write an email. I’m not sure why I’m doing this now but I just sent all of them to you. You can read them or delete them, it’s up to you, I guess. 

I love you. That hasn’t changed and it never will. 

Goodbye Michael.

A

Michael blinked away the sudden tears that sprung to his eyes. For all that he’d shoved Alex away over the last few years and flaunted the fact that he could move on, Alex telling him goodbye broke his heart. Michael wasn’t sure how they’d gotten to this point. It felt like one thing after another just piled on until there was no hope left. He wanted to fix it, even when he’d been with Maria part of him had wanted to fix it, he just didn’t know how. And now it was too late.

Rereading the email, he spotted the part about new emails and quickly exited out of that one. And there they were. Michael scrolled down to find the oldest one but it was impossible to tell. They didn’t seem to be in any particular order so he just clicked one and then another and then another.

From: alex.manes@gmail.com

To: m.guerin47@gmail.com

I saw you at the Pony today. You looked like shit. Have you been sleeping? Eating? Or are you just existing on alcohol and acetone?

I hope it’s making you feel better because it’s not helping anyone. Not your sister, who really needs you right now by the way, not me, not Maria, and certainly not Max. 

I wish you’d let me help you.

A

From: alex.manes@gmail.com

To: m.guerin47@gmail.com

You drive me crazy sometimes you know that? First, you want nothing to do with me or Project Shepherd. And now it’s all you care about. Well, Project Shepherd at least. You still don’t seem to want anything to do with me.

Am I suddenly that repulsive to you? Because of my father? Fuck him. Seriously, Guerin, fuck. him. Don’t let him do this to us.

A

From: alex.manes@gmail.com

To: m.guerin47@gmail.com

You could’ve at least done me the courtesy of telling me you were dating Maria instead of letting me find out by walking in on you two.

Fuck you Michael

From: alex.manes@gmail.com

To: m.guerin47@gmail.com

You need to pull yourself together. Your sister is drowning and she needs you and you don’t even notice. Liz and I should not be the ones keeping her afloat. She needs her brother, dammit. 

If only I could get you to stay in the same room as me for longer than 2 seconds

A

From: alex.manes@gmail.com

To: m.guerin47@gmail.com

I can’t decide if you’re oblivious or stupid or just plain cruel

I get it, okay. You moved on. You’re happy. I’m happy you’re happy but I really don’t need a front row seat to you sticking your tongue down someone else’s throat okay? Would it kill you to cool it on the pda?

A

From: alex.manes@gmail.com

To: m.guerin47@gmail.com

Max is back. You weren’t there.

A

From: alex.manes@gmail.com

To: m.guerin47@gmail.com

I’m drunk. I shouldn’t bother with this it’s not like you’re going to read it anyway but I’m drunk and I’m lonely and it’s my birthday

Ten years apart and you never missed my birthday but now that I’m back you can’t be bothered? I want to be mad at you but I’m too sad to be mad

What did I do wrong Michael? Why are you doing this?

A

From: alex.manes@gmail.com

To: m.guerin47@gmail.com

You ever throw something anywhere near the vicinity of Maria again and I swear to god I will knock you on your ass

Don’t touch her. Don’t even get close. I don’t give a shit how drunk you are

A

From: alex.manes@gmail.com

To: m.guerin47@gmail.com

It’s the anniversary of Caulfield and I don’t want you to be alone but you won’t let me near you

I hope you told Maria what day it is or Isobel or someone. I hope you’re not alone.

I’m sorry

I’m so sorry Michael

A

From: alex.manes@gmail.com

To: m.guerin47@gmail.com

You look happy

I miss you

A

From: alex.manes@gmail.com

To: m.guerin47@gmail.com

I never thought of us as having an anniversary, not really, but if we had one it would be today

I was ready, Michael. I was fucking ready dammit. Why’d you have to pick then to finally be the one to walk away? I mean I know I deserved it after all the times I left you but your timing sucks.

A

From: alex.manes@gmail.com

To: m.guerin47@gmail.com

I got my new posting. Also got new orders to deploy. I’m leaving Roswell and I don’t think I’m coming back this time

A

From: alex.manes@gmail.com

To: m.guerin47@gmail.com

You came by today. I’m pretty sure it's the first time you’ve been out here since you told me in no uncertain terms that we were done. You wanted more info on Project Shepherd, on the Alighting that Noah mentioned. You could barely look me in the eyes. It was like I was just a colleague and not even one you particularly liked that much and it hurt. 

I get that we’re never going to be together but why can’t we be friends? Is it really that impossible? We’re either fucking or not looking each other in the eye? No in between? That’s bullshit

Why do you get to decide everything? When do I get a say in this? What if I want more? Do you even care what I want?

Don’t answer that. It’s pretty fucking obvious you don’t.

A

From: alex.manes@gmail.com

To: m.guerin47@gmail.com

I had lunch with Liz and Rosa and Maria today. It was awkward and painful. I’ve never hated you before but I think I hate you for fucking up my friendship with Maria. She was all I had for years and now it’s ruined because of you

Be happy with her. Make it worth it

A

From: alex.manes@gmail.com

To: m.guerin47@gmail.com

It’s not your fault. Me and Maria I mean. We fucked that up all on our own and neither one of us have really tried to fix it. You played a part, yeah, but don’t blame yourself for this too. You put too much on yourself already, you shouldn’t add this to it

A

From: alex.manes@gmail.com

To: m.guerin47@gmail.com

You make a beautiful couple

Better than we ever did. Not that we were ever a couple. Not like you and Maria

We wouldn’t have worked right? That’s why you left? Because we would’ve crashed and burned?

Merry Christmas Michael

A

From: alex.manes@gmail.com

To: m.guerin47@gmail.com

For someone who got angry every time I  mentioned the Air Force you really didn’t seem to care that I re-upped. I don’t know what to make of that. 

I’m going to protect you Michael, I promise. My father will never get his hands on you or your family ever again.

A

From: alex.manes@gmail.com

To: m.guerin47@gmail.com

Why can’t I get over you? I’ve tried fucking other guys, dating other guys, it doesn’t matter. 

I’ve never been able to get over you. I don’t know why I thought now would be any different.

All I want is you. All I’ve ever wanted is you.

A

From: alex.manes@gmail.com

To: m.guerin47@gmail.com

Full disclosure - I’ve had a lot to drink. Liek a lot 

Did you know that your people essentially mate for life? Yep. Turn 30 and the true essence of your heart will reveal itself on your skin and name the person you love most. It will stay there forever. Cant be cut off or inked over. Cant change neither. Once its there its there

Your turning 30 in a few months

I wont survive seeing her name on you i wont

I filed papers for a transfer today. Project Shepherd is basically dead and by the time the transfer comes through it will be really dead and i cant stay here anymore im not strong enough. I need to be not here when her name comes

A

From: alex.manes@gmail.com

To: m.guerin47@gmail.com

Its my name. Fucking hell Michael its MY name?? 

What the fuck have the last two years been if its mY FUCKING NAME?

A

From: alex.manes@gmail.com

To: m.guerin47@gmail.com

It hurt before when i thought you’d truly moved on but this? Oh this takes the cake

You love me. More than LITERALLY anything. And you still dont care enough to be with me

This is…

You should’ve left me in Caulfield and just saved yourself

A

From: alex.manes@gmail.com

To: m.guerin47@gmail.com

You left a birthday present in my car. Why?

Thank you

I love it

A

From: alex.manes@gmail.com

To: m.guerin47@gmail.com

Her name is Mara. 

She used to sing to the other prisoners when they were scared. She had such a beautiful voice. 

You won’t let me tell you about her but I think you should know. This was your mother, you should know who she was.

I’m sorry you didn’t get the chance to find out the right way. I really am.

A

From: alex.manes@gmail.com

To: m.guerin47@gmail.com

I saw you on the street today. You were outside the jewelry store.

I wish you both a long happy life together. You both deserve it.

A

There were more. So many more. Michael had to stop and pace himself or he’d start breaking things.

It took him weeks to get through all of them. Some made him cry, some made him smash every fragile thing in Max’s house (he owed him new windows), but some made him smile.

From: alex.manes@gmail.com

To: m.guerin47@gmail.com

I got a dog. Her name is Buffy. If anything happens to her I will kill everyone involved and then myself

Pics attached since I don’t know when I’ll see you.

A

From: alex.manes@gmail.com

To: m.guerin47@gmail.com

Wilson’s getting married, can you believe it? I would’ve bet good money he’d die a happy bachelor. It’ll be so good to see the squad again. He invited everyone, even O’Brien.

He’s making me wear a tux, though, no uniforms :(

A

From: alex.manes@gmail.com

To: m.guerin47@gmail.com

I think you’ve cursed me. I used to very happily not give a shit about football fuck you very much

(Eagles made the playoffs fuck yeah)

A

From: alex.manes@gmail.com

To: m.guerin47@gmail.com

There’s this new prosthetic prototype the military wants to try out and somehow I landed on the shortlist of candidates to get it

It’s supposed to be so amazing you don’t even know. It’ll be waterproof! I can stand in the shower!

(its the little things sometimes)

A

From: alex.manes@gmail.com

To: m.guerin47@gmail.com

I’ve really fucking missed Rosa. I know you miss your brother and I’m sorry but I never really let myself process how much I missed her

I promise to do everything I can to bring Max back. I owe him one

A

From: alex.manes@gmail.com

To: m.guerin47@gmail.com

Rosa doesn’t like the jacket. She’s gotta go

A

From: alex.manes@gmail.com

To: m.guerin47@gmail.com

I’m going to LA Pride next week. I’d ask you to come with me but you seem a little busy passing out on the floor of the Pony every night

I’m taking Isobel instead

A

From: alex.manes@gmail.com

To: m.guerin47@gmail.com

I’ve got this new project at work that’s actually really interesting. I keep staying late to work on it and so Project Shepherd is falling behind but fuck Michael I love it

A

From: alex.manes@gmail.com

To: m.guerin47@gmail.com

There was a crazy meteor shower last night. You would’ve loved it

A

From: alex.manes@gmail.com

To: m.guerin47@gmail.com

The sunsets out here are unreal. I’ve been in a few deserts and seen a few coasts but nothing, NOTHING, beats this view

Its beautiful

A

From: alex.manes@gmail.com

To: m.guerin47@gmail.com

It’s cheating on the Wild Pony, I know, but if you go over to Dexter there’s a great little bar that does open mic night on Thursdays. 

It’s been a long time since I sang. I’ve missed it. You should come sometimes.

A

Michael missed out on a lot while he was with Maria. He never wanted to miss those moments again.

In the five weeks it took him to get through all of the emails, no one heard from Alex. He’d warned them he’d be out of touch but it was still jarring. Michael took to driving out to the cabin or bugging Rosa to let him play with Buffy just so he could feel close to Alex. 

A week after he finished Alex’s emails he started writing his own.

From: m.guerin47@gmail.com

To: alex.manes@gmail.com

You’ve been gone six weeks. I miss you. I’m pretty sure I lost the right to say that but I don’t care. I do.

I read all of your emails

M

From: m.guerin47@gmail.com

To: alex.manes@gmail.com

I thought about responding to some of your emails individually but then I thought maybe just one would do it.

I’m sorry. I was a colossal jackass and you didn’t deserve any of it. I never should have blamed you for what your father did. You aren’t him, Alex.

There are only two people in my life that I trust to always be there: Isobel and you. Even when you walked away you always came back and I got used to that, I guess. When everything was spiraling out of control I needed someone to be angry at and I needed it to be someone who wouldn’t leave. Isobel was already going through hell so I picked you. I pushed you away as hard as I could and you stayed. You re-upped to protect me. You stayed in Roswell because you knew I needed you even though I refused to admit it. I put you through hell and you never said a word. Thank you. I should’ve said it a long time ago and I’m sorry I didn’t.

I’m sorry I finally pushed hard enough that you had to leave. Roswell’s your home and these people are your family. When you get back from your deployment you should come home and see them. I can leave if it’ll make it easier for you but you shouldn’t leave them just because I’m an ass.

M

From: m.guerin47@gmail.com

To: alex.manes@gmail.com

I think Liz is actually dating both Kyle and Max. I’m also pretty sure Max and Kyle are not dating each other. Sometimes though...how sure are you that Kyle is straight?

M

From: m.guerin47@gmail.com

To: alex.manes@gmail.com

I can’t decide if it’s too weird or not weird enough watching my sister and my ex girlfriend try to date. 

M

From: m.guerin47@gmail.com

To: alex.manes@gmail.com

You said you didn’t love me. Why did you say that if you did? 

I don’t know that I would have done anything different but I’d like to think I’d have been more considerate about Maria had I known. I thought you were over me. You said you were.

M

From: m.guerin47@gmail.com

To: alex.manes@gmail.com

It’s been three years since Caulfield and I’m alone. One of your emails mentioned that you didn’t want me to be alone but I am. I always am. No one understands. No one can possibly understand.

Kyle gave me a bottle of whiskey this morning. I’m trying to drink less but now that I’ve got a doctor’s seal of approval, I might just need to enjoy it.

M

From: m.guerin47@gmail.com

To: alex.manes@gmail.com

I left my mom to die for you. I don’t think I would’ve left for anyone else.

M

From: m.guerin47@gmail.com

To: alex.manes@gmail.com

I miss you. I think I’ve been missing you for years but you were right there so I didn’t realize it

Be safe. Come home

M

From: m.guerin47@gmail.com

To: alex.manes@gmail.com

I’m a little obsessed with my mark ngl

It’s in my own handwriting but I wish it was yours. So it would actually be a piece of you with me

M

From: m.guerin47@gmail.com

To: alex.manes@gmail.com

It’s crazy. When you were here all I could think about when I saw you was your dad and your brothers and Caulfield. I know it’s not fair and it’s not right but I can’t control it

But now you’re not here. And I look around the cabin and all I see is you making breakfast or burning the popcorn that one night we tried to watch a movie and ended up making out instead. I can’t sleep at the Airstream without thinking of you. Did I ever tell you that you’re the only person I ever brought home? Every other person I ever hooked up I either went to their place or found somewhere else. But not you. You came home with me. 

Liz wanted a group outing to the drive in. But I said no. I can’t go there anymore. 

M

From: m.guerin47@gmail.com

To: alex.manes@gmail.com

My eyes are burning. Too much naked sister 

M

From: m.guerin47@gmail.com

To: alex.manes@gmail.com

First I see my sister having sex and now my brother’s asking me for gay sex tips

I can’t

M

From: m.guerin47@gmail.com

To: alex.manes@gmail.com

When we broke up Maria accused me of being with her because I loved her less, because then she couldn’t hurt me. I thought she was crazy but now I think she had a point. I literally just walked in on her in bed with someone else (I’ve completely blocked out the memory of who it was) and it didn’t hurt. I’m just...happy for her. She smiles more these days than she has in a while

It's nothing like when I saw you on a date that one time and had the sudden urge to beat the guy into a bloody mess with my bare hands. It's a nice change of pace

M

From: m.guerin47@gmail.com

To: alex.manes@gmail.com

It’s been four months since anyone’s heard from you. I hope you’re okay and just not allowed to contact anyone.

Please be okay Alex. I don’t know what I’ll do if you’re not

M

From: m.guerin47@gmail.com

To: alex.manes@gmail.com

Some idiot decided to put in a record store on Main St. Who even buys records anymore?

It has open mic night almost every night though. You’d love it

M

From: m.guerin47@gmail.com

To: alex.manes@gmail.com

I seem to have moved into your cabin. Oops

The bed doesn't smell like you anymore :(

M

From: m.guerin47@gmail.com

To: alex.manes@gmail.com

It’s Valentine’s Day and you’re not here and I don’t even know if you’d want to see me if you were but let me just say this:

You’re an asshole and I love it

You care so much about people, about your family (the real one not the jackasses named Manes), and you give so much of yourself for other people I’m constantly in awe of you

You named your dog after a vampire slayer; what a dork (next one should be Faith)

You are the strongest person I know. I put you through hell and you’re still standing and you somehow still love me. I don’t understand but I can’t complain

I miss watching movies with you even if your constant commentary can be annoying as hell

I can’t eat omelets at restaurants anymore, you’ve ruined me for life

Your voice is breathtaking; you should never stop singing

I love you

Happy Valentine’s Day Alex

M

From: m.guerin47@gmail.com

To: alex.manes@gmail.com

Please just tell me when you’re home so I know you’re safe

M

From: m.guerin47@gmail.com

To: alex.manes@gmail.com

Rosa has a boyfriend. It’s weird. We can’t talk around him. Too many secrets.

M

From: m.guerin47@gmail.com

To: alex.manes@gmail.com

I broke the ship. Most of its still in the bunker but I scattered some pieces around town. The Airstream, Isobel’s, Max’s, the Crashdown, the Pony, other places too

The biggest piece is right here at the cabin. I needed it to be with you

M

From: m.guerin47@gmail.com

To: alex.manes@gmail.com

Jenna’s back

M

From: m.guerin47@gmail.com

To: alex.manes@gmail.com

Happy Birthday Alex

I’m sorry I missed one. I promise not to miss any ever again.

They probably don't have any good cake where you’re at so I’ll just have to take you out for some when you get home

M

From: m.guerin47@gmail.com

To: alex.manes@gmail.com

I’ve co-opted Buffy from Rosa. She’s not getting her back

M

Over six months after Alex left, Michael received his first new email.

From: alex.manes@gmail.com

To: m.guerin47@gmail.com

Subject: YOUR EYES ONLY

You’re unbelievable. Asshole

827 Willowbrook Cir #231

Marlow Heights, MD 20746

A

P.S. Don’t forget Buffy

[litwitlady]

Date Nights (5/5)

Read on Ao3.

Alex wakes up on Christmas morning at 4 am, unable to fall back asleep due to a mixture of nerves and excitement. Sliding out of bed slowly, he tucks the duvet around Michael and pulls on sweatpants as quietly as possible before heading into the kitchen to brew a pot of coffee.

While the coffee maker works, he plugs in the Christmas tree and the garland over the mantle, admiring the twinkling lights and carefully chosen ornaments. For Christmas this year, they’d gathered with their friends and family early and exchanged ornaments. Liz’s gift had been a cowboy alien, glow in the dark and bearing no resemblance at all to Michael. Rosa’s had been a beautiful glass bulb she’d hand-painted with the cosmos. Kyle’s a simple wood-carved Merry Christmas. Rosa had gotten a hold of it and painted it with various iconography of the holidays - lights, Santa hats, and reindeer faces.

Max’s had been a collection of simple red Christmas bells, their jingle light and tinkling whenever either of them accidentally bumped into the tree. Isobel’s expensive and crystal - a star with swirls that reminded everyone of the console tech in Michael’s bunker. Maria had given them a giant, purple eggplant ornament as a joke, but they’d still hung it on the tree anyway. Smiling fondly every time their eyes landed on it. She’d followed the joke with a gorgeous, brightly-beaded patchwork that she said reminded her of how she felt when their love bled over into her sight - colorful, lacking definition, and like the calm that only comes after the storm.

Michael and Alex had chosen the rest themselves. A mixture of whimsy and classic Christmas. It was hodgepodge and lacked any real thematic structure, but it was also beautiful, filled with love, and theirs.

Back in the kitchen, Alex hops up on the corner of the counter and sips at his coffee. He had planned to let Michael sleep in for once, to cook him breakfast and spend the rest of the day either in bed or wrapped in a blanket on the couch. Keeping his gift for Michael a secret until sunset. But that’s not going to happen. He’s too keyed up. Too anxious to wait.

Pouring a second cup, he heads into the bedroom and sets the coffee on Michael’s nightstand. He finishes getting dressed so that it’s less likely Michael will be able to seduce him back into bed, and then gently shakes him awake. It’s not even 5 am yet so he’s not surprised when Michael mildly panics at being woken up while it’s still dark outside. ‘What’s wrong?’ He reaches out to palm at Alex, needing to make sure he’s okay.

‘Nothing’s wrong, but I need you to wake up.’

Michael’s eyes crack open and he blinks away the sleep before responding. ‘What? Why? We were going to sleep in.’ His voice is soft and groggy.

Alex grabs the coffee and hands it to him, hoping the warm drink will lure him into a sitting position. ‘I know, but I’m too excited to wait. I want to give you your Christmas present right now.’

It works. Michael sits up to sip his coffee and stare at Alex skeptically. ‘You’re making me nervous. You’ve got that look Isobel gets when she’s about to do something she loves but everyone else hates.’

‘Wow, Guerin. And to think I was going to scramble eggs while you showered.’

‘I’m much rather you join me. Eggs can wait.’ He slides his hand very suggestively up Alex’s thigh but gets his hand lightly slapped before he can do any real damage.

‘Nope. I’m not letting you get me naked. Not yet anyway. Now, go get ready.’

‘Okay. Now I’m definitely worried. When have you ever turned down sex? I can’t recall a single time.’ Alex swats his ass as he heads toward the bathroom.

A few minutes later, Michael pads into the kitchen where Alex hands him a bowl of scrambled eggs smothered with melted cheese and freshly chopped chives. ‘Eat fast.’ Alex’s own bowl is already half empty.

He only takes a couple of careful bites. Not because the eggs aren’t good - they’re great. It’s just that Alex is not the big gesture type, and Michael’s not great at receiving gifts of any kind, large or small.

‘Alex?’ He doesn’t know how to ask what he’s about to ask.

‘Hmm?’ He’s finished his breakfast. Sitting on the counter, phone in hand. Probably texting all their friends Merry Christmas.

Michael takes a steadying breath. ‘This isn’t...I mean, this gift isn’t...a proposal, right?’ The thing is he’s racked his brain two days trying to figure out what Alex has been so anxious about. Two days of his brain circling back to this conclusion every time. A proposal. Some giant gesture. Something so unlike Alex.

And to be honest, the idea of marrying Alex isn’t what makes him nervous. It’s the idea that Alex is only doing this because he thinks that’s what Michael wants him to do or needs him to do or some reason equally as unsatisfying. Because Alex’s meticulous, risk assessing brain cannot possibly think getting engaged so soon is a good idea.

The look on Alex’s face is hard to read. He’s tucked his phone back into his pocket and his lips have thinned like he’s trying to smile but forgot how. When he finally speaks his voice is low. Undeniably sad. ‘No, Michael. It’s not a proposal. Not really. But I guess you could say it’s not not a proposal.’

Alex slides gingerly off the counter, landing on his left foot and unable to meet Michael’s eye. That’s when he knows he’s messed up.

‘I didn’t mean anything by that. I just don’t want you to feel pressured to do something you aren’t ready for yet.’

‘You still doubt me. That’s fair.’ He rinses his bowl in the sink, keeping his back turned. ‘Well, it’s a good thing I hadn’t planned to propose then. Maybe we should just head to the Pony instead. Help Maria set up the charity lunch.’ There’s a tremble in his voice that Michael hates.

Alex starts to walk past him, but Michael grabs his elbow, spinning him back around. ‘Hey. Hey, hey, hey. I don’t doubt that you want this as much as I do. But I do think you’d ignore your own feelings to put mine first. I want us to be on the same page. That’s all.’

Tears burn at the corner of Alex’s eyes. Michael reaches his hand up to brush them away, but Alex takes several steps back, swiping at them with the back of his hands. ‘You’re right. I don’t make big gestures. They terrify me. This terrifies me - that I did this thing without your permission. So I’ve been a nervous wreck for weeks. Worried that you would say no or laugh or something else you would never do but that my brain wouldn’t shut up about. And now, I’m pretty sure I messed up. Let’s just forget about it and go help Maria.’

He leaves the kitchen, grabbing his coat off the dining room table. Michael doesn’t move until he hears the front door open and close. The door slams shut hard enough that the windows rattle over Alex’s keyboard, and Michael’s knuckles whiten as he grips the countertop.

This scene an all too familiar memory. Emotions high and Alex skittering away.

Taking a deep breath, he tells himself no. This is different. They are different.

Alex hasn’t run away. He’s just outside waiting, getting some fresh air and calming down. Clearing his head. Because that’s what they do now. They take breaks when needed, but there’s no running.

Michael stuffs his feet inside his boots and drops his hat on his head, coat in his hand. He finds Alex exactly where he expects to, huddled inside his Explorer and the engine already running. When he opens the passenger side door, Alex even manages a weak smile. ‘Sorry.’

‘No sorrys.’ He buckles his seatbelt and reaches across to squeeze Alex’s thigh. ‘We have plenty of time to help Maria. I want my gift.’

Alex nods but doesn’t move to leave. He drums his fingers on the steering wheel, biding his time. Michael settles back in his seat to wait.

‘Promise me something.’ His fingers stop their tapping.

‘Anything.’

He shifts toward Michael as best he can with his seatbelt fastened. ‘If you don’t like the gift for any reason whatsoever, you’ll tell me.’

There’s no running and there’s no lying. ‘I promise.’

The drive out to wherever they’re going is quiet. Christmas music plays faintly through the speakers, but neither of them says anything. Michael’s not a fan of the tension between them, but the lack of anger or sharp words proves -- at least to him -- that they’ve really accomplished something by working hard to get to this softer place.

He watches Alex out of the corner of his eye. Eyes fixed on the road ahead and mind whirling. Every so often he takes a measured breath, loudly exhaling. The most obvious sign that he’s been back in therapy for a couple of months now. Michael aches to climb into his lap and soothe away all his worries, all his fears. But until he knows what this gift is, he knows he can’t.

About half a mile from Foster’s Ranch, Alex pulls the car off the road, coming to a sudden stop at the chained gates of the old Ellison property. Michael watches him climb out of the car and walk a few feet onto the ranch, ignoring the half-dozen no trespassing signs.

Worried that he’s about to have a panic attack, Michael follows him. Placing a comforting hand on his shoulder and studying his face. Nothing seems wrong, his breathing even. ‘You alright?’

‘Yeah. What do you know about Ellison’s Ranch?’ His eyes dart back to the locked gate.

It’s a strange question, but maybe he needs a distraction. Michael’s happy to comply. ‘Uh, Old Man Ellison was a bigger dick than Foster. Died earlier this year. No family so the property was supposed to go for auction. About a hundred acres, give or take.’ He shrugs.

‘Hundred and one.’

‘What?’

Alex motions to the wide open expanse ahead of them. ‘One hundred and one acres exactly. Homestead property, used by the Ellison’s for horse breeding mostly.’

‘Okay.’ Michael’s not sure where he’s headed with any of this. ‘Ellison hated trespassers.’ He points back to the signs. ‘His ghost is likely to murder us if we stand here too long.’ He laughs at his own joke knowing how much Alex hates even the mention of ghosts.

But Alex just keeps staring straight into the distance. ‘We’re not trespassing.’

‘Signs beg to differ. We should just keep going, Alex. There’s nothing out here but dirt.’ He turns to head back to the Explorer, hoping Alex will do the same.

‘I bought this place at auction last month. Signed the final papers Wednesday morning. We’re not trespassing. It’s ours. Merry Christmas, Guerin.’

Michael stops dead in his tracks, spins slowly around. Alex’s hands are now in his pockets, shoulders tense. ‘What?’ He rejoins him, wrapping his fingers around Alex’s bicep. ‘You had this kind of money?’

‘No.’ He risks a quick glance at Michael and then back out toward the mountains. ‘It’s the money from my dad’s estate.’

‘Your dad left you his estate?’ That’s the wildest thing he’s said all morning.

Alex snorts. ‘Fuck, no. He didn’t leave me anything. Left almost everything to Clay, a bit to Greg. His weapons collection to Flint. Nothing to me.’

That checks out. Entirely expected. But rage boils just beneath the surface of Michael’s skin anyway. Alex is and always has been the best of them. And even if he is biased, that’s still the truth. ‘Then how?’

‘The auction notice was in the paper one morning when I was having breakfast with Greg. We talked about it. I mentioned how perfect the acreage was -- meant more for residential living than farming or ranching. Mentioned wanting something like this for me and you.’ He smiles, a real one this time. Full-bodied and bright. ‘A week later they wired me the money. Greg wanted nothing to do with dad’s legacy, and Clay wanted nothing to do with any of us, really.’

Michael gawks at him. Mouth agape and eyes wide. ‘It was enough?’

Alex nods. ‘For the property, yeah. Razing that old farmhouse and building a home of our own? That’s going to be up to us.’

‘A home of our own?’ He knows he sounds like an idiot. Repeating Alex’s simple words back at him. But that’s the best he’s got at the moment.

‘I thought maybe we could design a space that works for both of us. A space adaptable to my mobility needs, roomy enough to have friends stay whenever they want. A home meant for a family with a couple of kids.’ He pauses, lets that sink in. ‘A dog or two. Maybe some chickens and goats out back. Horses, even. Since there are already stables.’

Michael steps behind him, pressing his chest into Alex’s back and wrapping his arms firmly around his waist. ‘Keep going.’

‘A workshop for you. One that’s not buried in the ground. Where the sun shines on your face and the stars guide you at night. A soundproof studio for me so I don’t bother anyone trying to sleep. And anything else, Michael. Anything else you want.’ His voice falters the tiniest bit, low and strained with emotion. Another measured breath. ‘It’s too much. Right?’

Yes.

But the thing is, Michael can see everything Alex described. The house, the workshop, the studio. Even the goddamn horses. And all of that is nice. Perfect. The best dream imaginable. But what sells him is the mention of kids. Their kids. Their kids growing up here. Safe and loved. Chasing after chickens and crying over skint knees. Michael holding his little girl’s hand as she wobbles down the steps desperate to run after the dog while Alex follows with their son in his arms.

Suddenly, his mother’s words come to him, unbidden from where he’d locked them away. The words he’d kept for himself. Don’t be afraid to fight for your own happiness, my love. How easily she’d seen through him and known exactly what he needed to hear.

So, he fights.

‘Yes.’ He whispers the words directly into Alex’s ear. ‘But we’ve always been too much. Me and you. Why stop now?’

Michael kisses down Alex’s neck and holds him tighter while the sun climbs higher overhead, illuminating the desert morning stretching out around them. Cars pass behind them on the highway and somewhere in the distance, a rooster crows. He replays the scene in his head again -- their little girl tumbling down the stairs, Alex snuggling their son into giggles.

Alex has made him this promise, and now it’s his turn.

‘Hey, Alex.’

‘Hmm?’ Michael knows he’s lost in his own daydream. Perhaps the exact same one.

‘Marry me.’

[lambourngb]

he’s got a smart mouth but a good heart - Michael Guerin

It’s Day 2, celebrating characters, and much to my own surprise, at the end of season 2, Michael Guerin decided to move into my brain and take up residence. Obviously I still love Alex Manes (He lives first and foremost in my brain since 1x08), but there was something about how Michael buried his own pain about his mother to help everyone in season two that rang pretty true to my own life right now. I didn’t always like what he was doing in season 2 but I understood it.

Anyway, when I find a story that celebrates how complicated he is, I cheer and rejoice- so here’s a few of the stories that I have gone back to again and again.

Truck stop knives and other assessors of childhood @angsty-aliens (13,200) I can’t lie, I love a good trope story, and I especially love a good sci-fi trope story, so this story hits all of my buttons. It takes our two science nerds, Liz and Michael, mucking around, and accidentally creating a version of Michael- but not just any version, but the child who hitchhiked to Fosters ranch, completely over humans and desperate to find his family. The kid who was feral from neglect and abuse... he was the cutest thing and the most mortifying thing that ever happened to Michael to be displayed and shown. This story takes the de-aged trope and turns it on its head, and oh yeah, there’s a sweet backdrop to Michael and Alex getting together.

Implicit Memories of You by @ninswhimsy (3464) - So this is an amnesia story canon-divergent story set after 2x11 basically, where they use the mind erasing drug on Michael. I know, I’m reccing this about Michael characterization, but it’s so solidly him after all the memories are stripped away and he’s acting on instincts, locked in a room to torture Alex with before death. There’s so much going on in so few words, something that Nin is a master at, especially the ephemeral remembrances of his mother that Michael has- oof right in the feels.

Maybe this time (he’ll stay) by @hannah-writes​ (7700) This is a sequel to one of my favorite stories I recced last year, dealing in alternative timelines where in one world, Michael is lost and alone and has pushed Alex away, and in another world where Alex came home from Iraq in a flagged draped coffin. It answers the question, what about Mikey? Where’s his happy ending? The confirmation of the multiverse means there’s an Alex out there who needs him- and through trial and error, Michael finds him. The world building in both stories is top notch, because for every action, there’s a reaction and reason shaping Michael.

Constant as the northern star by celzmccelz (53,000) - don’t know the tumblr here - This is an Mpreg, and it starts solidly after 1x13 and goes AU from there. But what if in the 100 mile drive home from Caulfield, Michael and Alex share a grief-induced moment of insanity where they fall back into their oldest language- sex for comfort, and then Michael does everything he does in the finale, including turning toward Maria, what if there was a souvenir? Despite the trope of mpreg, this is just how I see Michael, deeply in love with Alex but unable to trust that Alex feels the same depth in return. The friendships in here are also top-notch, from Kyle being a baby-doctor, to Isobel having her own Max-related spiral unable to let go of her brother only to refocus on Michael, to Liz fucking off with Rosa for the first half of the story because she’s caught up in her own grief (which turned out to be canon!). And there’s a whole plot here! With Jesse Manes being the worst.

Leave the light on by @sabrinachill​ (36,900) - Confession time- I love fake dating as a trope, I know, shocked right? But I especially love it with RNM because Malex are exes by 1x03. Mattie nailed the dynamic of pining and the assumption of unrequited love so well in this story. Although the POV switches here a bit between chapters, (and Alex is fabulous) what I really really loved was how she wrote Michael, in love but convinced that he’s messed up too much for Alex. Aware of his faults but not in a sullen way, but an acknowledgment that he was in a bad place and Alex hasn’t always been the best remedy him in the past. It was a very mature take on the “give me another chance” trope in Malex reunion stories, where both sides had a share of blame. The plot was suspenseful and tight (how do people do that???) with a climax that honestly shocked me! I really enjoyed rereading it while I prepped my rec-sets, and I won’t be surprised if this story isn’t mentioned by everyone doing ‘Creators Week’. It’s worthy of all the love.

Temporary wounds by @prouvaireafterdark​ (7800) - How many times can I rec this story? Hopefully you’re not bored by my adoration of this Lynne.  So even though it’s set post-season 1 with the assumption that Michael/Maria will fizzle out while Alex/Forrest date- it’s actually perfectly set for season 3 (an author who is psychic??). As a rule, I hate jealousy as a trope, but this story has the only type of jealousy I want to see on screen- where Michael wonders what was missing inside of him that Alex didn’t want to be public during their long affair (even with the acknowledgment that Alex was too scared before)- like that type of sad pining is my catnip!

The first who ever did by nostalijinks (33,000) post season 1, but really it also stands pretty well after season 2.  There was an interview during season 1 I think that talked about how all Michael really wanted was to be a hero to Alex (the way he stepped in front of Jesse as a kid)  but he thinks he failed at it since Alex enlisted. That failure soured him in ways but he never stops trying, for Alex. This is a really well done 5 times plus 1 story, with an overreaching arc of reconciliation between Alex and Michael, starting as teenagers, then as adults while Michael is with Maria, then as friends, real friends, trying to support Alex as Alex dates. The whole emotional journey of maturity that Michael takes here is so well done, where there’s no real villains in the friend group. I just love it. I wish the author had written 100 more like this one, but as a standalone work it’s epic.

The person that you’d take a bullet for is behind the trigger by @iwontbeyourmedicine​ (25,000) Ly has a very large body of work, that you could spend days paging through on AO3 or tumblr, but this one hits two of my kinks hard- the amnesia story line and true love conquers all. So three fandoms ago I was huge into Steve/Bucky, that iconic moment in Cap 2 where Bucky breaks through the brainwashing has never left me. This story takes my love for that moment, and makes it Malex. Alex gets programmed by his family and set loose on his friends, on the aliens and it’s a shitshow bloodbath since he’s really fucking good at kicking ass. Michael is caught between keeping everyone safe and trying not to hurt Alex, and the tension is just top-notch. I love how it’s not an immediate fix either, the way they circle each other in the aftermath, wanting to come home, but home would be a totally new step for both of them. Just chef’s kiss good at joining action, angst, and romance together.

Into the palm of your hand by @haloud​ (5900) hal is a treasured friend, so I am admitting some bias here, but we both enjoy talking about how wonderful and sad Michael is and how desperately we enjoy poking at that softness and then wrapping him up with love again... so this story was written pre-shamegate (and if you know what that means, I’m sorry) but it matches my head canon of what the history of hiding does to someone. The internalization of believing maybe there’s a reason behind the hiding that has nothing to do with homophobic townies. Alex has an ex boyfriend come to town, and he doesn’t tell Michael. And omg the journey hal takes us on with Michael’s spiral and Brave Little Toaster act was so wonderful and painful and real. The communication between these two was top notch as they worked through a road bump from the past, and let’s face it, once we get our malex back, these things are going to happen, and it will either tear them apart or bring them closer together- I prefer to believe it will be closer together.

There is beauty in a failure by @jule1122​ (2400) There’s been a few Greg and Michael stories to pop up on my radar after 2x10, and this one was one of my favorites. This is a Greg who pulls no punches in exposing his brother’s past to Michael, but also gives Michael the space to work through what he wants. It’s an AU from 2x12, that allowed Michael to break up with Maria for basically the same reasons that Maria used on him in 2x13. The way Michael is able to what he wants and communicate it Alex in the end- so good! We can only hope to see something similar in season 3.

I don’t know what to think (but I think of supernovas) by @queersirius​ (3900) This story is a delight from start to finish- I mean frustrated cursing turns the console on into a hologram who then takes the most pleasing form to Michael’s eyes? SIGN ME UP for those shenanigans. I fucking loved how Isobel saw it first too. And then the comedy of Alex discovering it? And what happens afterwards? Oh it’s so delicious. Now of course, full disclosure, this light-hearted romp through the feels also inspired me  to think up a much much sadder version of Michael building an AI for companionship considering how isolated he ended up being at the end of Season 2 and we all know Michael needs friends, badly.

Innuendo by the Roswell anon (6000) written for @bisexualalienblast​  the roswell anon is my favorite treasure in this fandom, I could pretty much list all of their stories as examples of some very fine Michael Guerin characterization. This one was one of my favorite post-season 1 fix-it fics though, because it has some of the most real 28-30 year old guy dialogue I’ve come across- from the crude jokes, to the sharply self-deprecating observations- this is Alex and Michael stripped down, all edges but what’s left is fatigue and love. The resolution at the end, where Alex observes that yes, Michael has tried the last 10 years but this is their first chance to try together- to pull in the same direction? It just lays me flat on the ground with how true that is to canon.

Whenever You Want to Begin, Begin by @foramomentonly (3200) - this is a sequel, and the first story is dynamite- don’t get me wrong- but it moves from the hopeful side of an ending to legit Happily-Ever-After here, and I devoured every word. First of all, having Michael turn to photography as a way of self-improvement is fucking genius. Photographers are always at the center of every happy event, but never the focus, and that screams Michael to me, the way he lives on the outskirts of the 9-5 job and literal outskirts of town in his trailer. The other thing is photographers are revealed by their work, and that’s also something I head-canon with Michael just in the mundane- he’s good with his hands, he wants to leave a car better than he found. Anyway, this story is gorgeously written, moves a bit like a really good bottle of wine- heavy but soft, as you watch Michael become Alex’s friend, and even more importantly, Alex becomes Michael’s friend. Fantastic- I’ve read it about four times now since it was published.