#he hasn’t been given the same chances as alex and you need to accept that

[the-girl-down-the-street]

every time james vowles says anything about logan and his performance i get closer and closer to committing a very violent crime

[naralanis]

little bumps in the road (pt. 22)

Previously on LBitR...

Despite J’onn’s somewhat encouraging parting words, Lena felt anything but prepared once he left her and Alex to their brightly lit little cells in this god-forsaken bunker.

Yeah, she ‘knew.’ So what?

At the very least, it just means that she needs to anticipate Lex’s next move. Fantastic; it’s not like she’s been trying and failing to do precisely that for as long as she’s known him.

At best, it means J’onn is hinting at some kind of advantage he seems to think she possesses. That’s the part Lena hasn’t quite figured out yet, and the clock is ticking. For all she knows, Kara may as well be flying right over their heads, and they would be none the wiser… that is, until Lex decides it’s time to play with his toys.

Alex grumbles in her cell, the sheets of her cot rustling as she shifts to sit up. She blinks at Lena for a few moments, studying her, yet not surprised to see her there in the slightest.

She looks like shit.

“Please tell me you’ve got a watch,” Alex mumbles in lieu of a greeting, voice hoarse and slightly groggy.

Lena shakes her head in the negative. Her eyes are glued to the bandages at Alex’s temple—they are crisp and clean, except for a slight, dark red spot right at the center. The agent follows her line of sight with a wry chuckle.

“I tried to get at mine, too,” she explains with a droopy wave at her temple and a tight shrug. “Almost got it, too, before Brainy informed me I was about to melt my brain or something. Lovely little gizmo your brother got us.”

Lena sighs, ashamed despite herself. Alex keeps on speaking, sounding amused—Lena isn’t sure if it’s because she’s using humour to cope with this thoroughly unpleasant, hopeless situation, or if the painkillers they gave her were just that good.

“I have to admit, I am glad I didn’t try it with a fucking piece of glass,” Alex quips as she stands up and stretches. Lena can hear the pop of every vertebrae as the agent cranes her neck.

“So,” Alex continues in the face of Lena’s silence, approaching the crystal-clear barrier separating them and clapping her hands loudly. Her walk is still a little wobbly. “We can’t get these things off. What’s the plan then, Luthor?”

Lena—who so far has just been standing in the same spot, biting her lip and mulling over what J’onn had said—whips back to face the agent so fast she almost gives herself whiplash.

“Plan?” she says, feeling her voice squeak in the way it often does when she’s about to descend into hysterics. That has been happening a little too frequently as of late, so she takes a moment to close her eyes and breathe deeply through her nose, centering herself.

“There is no plan,” she says, crossing her arms—the cast makes the familiar action a tad awkward, and it takes her a few seconds to get it somewhat right.

Alex simply eyes her impassively for a few moments, and then loudly sucks air through her teeth and releases it. “OK, then,” she says, not sounding as resigned as the situation probably warrants, which throws Lena for a loop. “So, we make a new one.”

Lena wants to make a sarcastic comment about what kind of meds they must have given Alex for her to entertain such a ridiculous notion, but she reins it in at the last moment and opts for a skeptical quirk of her brow instead.

“By all means,” she drawls, unable to keep her sarcasm fully at bay. “If you have any suggestions, I’m all ears, because I frankly don’t have any. We’re locked in an underground bunker until Lex decides to have his way with the nifty little implants he gave us.”

Alex nods, smacking her lips. “I don’t accept that.”

Lena releases a humorless laugh. “I suggest you start,” she waves her broken hand around her cell. “Because it’s pretty hard to ignore.”

Alex takes a few more steps forward; she’s so close her breath fogs the glass. “Then work it out, Luthor.” She puts a finger on the glass; it thunks oddly loudly against the smooth surface as she taps away to punctuate her words. “The way I see it, Lex is going to activate these things in our heads any minute now. I would very much like either of us not hurting my baby sister, thank you very much. So out with it.”

Lena huffs, irked by the demand. “You think I want to hurt Kara? You think I wanted to do it the first time?!”

“You have hurt her before,” Alex retorts. Her tone is calm, but Lena feels it like a slap in the face. “I don’t think you wanted to kill her, but you did encase her in Kryptonite. Don’t act like you’re above hurting her.”

Lena wants to say something back, but her words are stuck in her throat. Alex doesn’t give her a chance to recover and speak, but the gentleness in her tone keeps throwing Lena off.

“And that’s exactly what Lex is going to use against you—what he has used against you already.” She smiles, a little sadly. “You wouldn’t be standing there thinking about what J’onn said if you didn’t think there’s something you can use to get us all out of this mess.”

Lena only realizes she’s crying when her tears cool her cheeks in the dry air of the cell. She steps forward, almost as close to the barrier as Alex is. “It might be nothing,” she says, biting at her lip.

Alex puts her whole palm onto the glass. “But it might be something.”

Lena lets out a wry laugh. “Maybe.” She looks back at Alex, focus narrowing at the bandages at her temple and her matching ones in the reflection of the glass. “When you tried to reach your suppressed memories, how did it feel?”

“Like shit.” Alex shrugs. “Well. That’s an understatement,” she adds on, running a hand through her cropped hair. “It was agony. Hot. Like… lightning in my head. White and bright.”

Lena nods. “When Lex captured me… He triggered something like that—he used specific words to trigger that reaction; though I felt it before… when you met me and Kara in Metropolis, when I tried to remember what really happened.”

Lena’s gaze meets with Alex, and the agent looks more than a little lost. Lena surmises her memories aren’t entirely back just yet. She sighs, waving it away. “That’s not important. But I did accidentally manage to… snap out of it—I stopped whatever he triggered, somehow. And then I tried to dig out the implant,” she adds, almost as an afterthought.

Alex’s forehead bumps against the glass. “How did you stop it?”

Lena chuckles wryly, and raises her casted hand. “I shocked my body out of it,” she explains. “I slammed my broken hand onto a table, and the pain gave me something else to focus on. Then I just…” she flounders, then, because how can Lena explain that she packed whatever Lex had triggered in her brain away into a mental box without sounding like a lunatic?

“You just what?”

Lena sighs, knocks her head against the barrier in frustration. “I put it away,” she mumbles.

Alex blinks. “Excuse me. You did what now?”

“I put it away, Alex. I—I don’t know, I compartmentalized it. I separated it from whatever else I was thinking and feeling, until I could get a handle on it.”

She turns her gaze back to Alex, ready to see the judgement in her eyes, ready to hear her tell Lena she thinks she’s crazy.

To her surprise, the agent looks… impressed.

“OK,” Alex says slowly. “Do you think you could do it again?”

Lena opens her mouth, closes it again. That’s the question, isn’t it? Is that what she’s prepared for? Is that what J’onn meant when he said she knows what to expect?

“Maybe,” she says, only half believing it. “I don’t know.”

“Do you remember what Lex said to trigger the implant?”

Lena nods a somber affirmative. “Do you?”

Alex shakes her head, but her gaze is hopeful. “If you do, maybe… maybe you can turn it around. It’s like a magic trick,” she says, trying to be helpful. “Once you know how it works, the illusion is gone.”

Lena wants to point out that Q-wave and memory manipulation is far from a simple magic trick, but Alex’s words resonate in her mind—how much has she replayed exactly what Lex had said when he left her?

She opens her mouth to speak, but a loud buzzing interrupts her. It seems to be coming from Alex’s pocket—the agent gives her a sheepish look as she pulls out something that looks like a pager.

“I do hope you figure it out soon,” Alex says, eyeing the device grimly. She turns to show Lena a miniscule screen—the contraption was obviously left by Nia or Brainy for one purpose and one purpose only, and Lena’s heart is in her throat when she sees the recognizable sigil blinking over a familiar map. “Because Kara’s back.”

 << Previous || Next >>

[himbeaux-on-ice]

KK deserves more than 6mil for 1 year and there is no way Habs CAN'T match that. It was so low I thought it was a joke of an offer as petty revenge for the Aho one. Literally had a $20 signing bonus tf. With both teams picking up racists this is good PR frankly to excite fans.

Sorry, I actually disagree pretty solidly with almost all of this, but the reasons are complex and lengthy to explain, so I’m going to put it all under a cut.

Listen, I personally believe based on what we’ve seen from him in the playoffs that KK can eventually develop into a $6.1 million dollar player — it seemed like he did well once the team had been put through Ducharme’s mini-training camp before the playoffs that actually allowed the chance to cement his systems, and put up good numbers generally during the run for someone his age. If they can find a way to get that kind of stuff out of him in the regular season, he could very well be worth $6.1 or more down the road. I really truly think he has it in him with the right coaching and the right work put in.

The problem is, owing possibly to how the Habs have chosen to develop him (remember, he came to the NHL pretty much straight out of the draft) and how very young he actually is, he has not yet actually PROVEN that he can be a player of that value consistently for most of a season at any point. I’m willing to put an asterisk on his struggles this year, because it was a weird fucking season and the Habs had a rough go of it in several points, especially down the stretch, and because we’ve seen the ability is there in the playoffs. But given what we’ve seen while he’s been on his ELC, there has been no guarantee so far that a team that signs him to $6.1 million is going to get $6.1 million in value out of him this coming season.

Like, set aside league-wide valuations for a second, and think about what the Habs, based on their budgeting and philosophy and management choices, are paying some of their top foundational players right now in terms of cap hit. Toffoli makes $4.5 million, so will Hoffman. Anderson makes $5.5 million, as does Drouin. Petry makes $6.2 million. Edmundson makes $3.5 million. Jake Allen, a player so valuable to this team that we risked “Price to Seattle” to keep him, is $2.87 million against the cap. Gally, the lifeblood heart and soul of this team who has given his literal blood sweat and tears to it for almost a decade, only makes $6.5 million against the cap. They apparently weren’t even willing to offer Phillip Danault, defensive cornerstone of the playoff run, the $5.5 million he got from LA. With Weber on the LTIR, if KK signed with the Habs at $6.1 million, he would be the third-highest paid player on the active team when you exclude dudes named Carey Price (who is an outlier and should not be counted). I love the kid. I think he’ll be a bonafide star someday. He has NOT earned that kind of payday yet, based on the established scale of how the Habs reward their players.

Based on my amateur understanding of NHL contracts and the market, a reasonable deal with KK from the Habs would have been somewhere in the area of $2-3 million (so, what they pay for players like Lehkonen (2.3 mil) or Byron (3.3 mil) or just signed Armia to (3.4 mil)), for maybe about 2 years. By the time that runs out, he’d be 23 years old and heading into the prime of his career, and you would probably have a better idea of whether he’s made that big next step or not — if he has, you probably just got two years of great hockey out of him at a STEAL, and can at that point sign him for a nice juicy contract that will pay him to that level and lock him up through his prime years (which is what you would dangle to entice him to take the short deal for now). And if when that short deal is up he hasn’t made that next leap, then you either sign him back at what he is worth, or if that’s an impasse, part ways. He has said he wants to help bring a Cup to Montreal, and do it with the core of young guys they’re assembling (and close friends like the other Finns on the team) — with that, maybe some performance bonuses if he really kills it, and the promise of something bigger down the road once he proves himself (plus the knowledge that he might not get higher offers elsewhere because of how he’s struggled) you could probably get him to sign a deal like that with the Habs.

HOWEVER.

Now that he has signed this offer sheet, he WILL get $6.1 million. Not only for this year, but once the one-year deal expires, any extension offered to him by anyone is required to start at that number. Regardless of how he performs. Unless he has the breakout year of all breakout years, this will really screw him over — because if he DOESN’T perform to the $6.1 million level, a team (be it the Habs or the Canes) is not going to want to sign him to a second deal at that pricetag. He’ll have to go hunting as a free agent, or get traded before he expires and become another team’s problem. (Note: I’m not exactly sure if the offer sheet process allows Montreal to match with a contract at the same value but longer term, but that doesn’t really solve the problem of being locked-in at $6.1 million after next season even if they can). I understand why he signed the offer sheet — his career earnings so far total just over $2 million, and of course both he and his agent would jump at the chance to guarantee adding triple that in just one year, with the promise of more of the same on his next extension. I’m sure he probably thinks he’s worth it, or can prove he is worth it. He probably thinks the Habs believe in him enough to match it, too — I don’t think he wants to leave Montreal, but he probably sees this as simply an earlier achievement of what they would hopefully be paying him anyway someday, in his eyes.

But even if he DOES perform up to that level, if he remains on the Habs that creates another massive problem crunching up against the salary cap: Nick Suzuki and Jake Evans are both RFA’s at the end of the 2021-22 season, and THEY will be looking for their “grown-up” contracts at that time, the SAME time KK will need to be signed again. Nick is probably going to develop into the better player between him and KK (look at where he already is right now), so even if KK performs excellently next year as say 2C, Nick looks like he will be even better at 1C — and if I’m Nick’s agent, I’m definitely starting my contract negotiations with what the Habs would be paying KK as my absolute lowest starting figure, if not higher. Jake probably has more of a 3C/4C upside, but if KK struggles and plays at a 3C/4C performance level and Jake does that well or better, then if I’m Jake Evans’ agent I am definitely putting my starting figure for negations right around $6.1 million, because I can argue “well, you’re paying Kotkaniemi that much, why not my client?”. Romanov is due up for his post-ELC RFA deal after next year too — because he’s more of a defensive defenceman who isn’t expected to score much, he likely can’t command the kind of figures that an offensively productive centre does, but you still need to have enough cap space to actually sign the guy for what he’s worth; Romanov is eligible for arbitration in that negotiation, so lowballing him too hard could get complicated and contentious fast. And all of this isn’t even including factors like depth players on one-year deals who will need to be replaced or brought back after this year, etc.

Accepting/matching this contract creates a dozen new problems the Habs didn’t have before at all. It carries massive risk and could cause problems for the cap and for roster construction even if KK takes off like a rocket and lives up to the figure on the sheet. I didn’t even touch on the absolute hell the fanbase and media will put him through if he is in Montreal on that kind of payday compared to the rest of the team and fails to live up to it. Alex Galchenyuk only made $4.5 million while he was here and struggling. Look how that turned out for him. You’ve seen how people get when Carey has a rough patch, how the $10.5 million gets brought up and thrown around, and that’s with Carey goddamn Price. I have been around this fanbase long enough to see what happens when people don’t feel you’ve lived up to your pricetag. It gets nasty. Think whatever you’ve seen hurled at Mitch Marner this year, then multiplied by a factor of “fanbase whose expectations have been disproportionately raised probably beyond what’s realistic by the miracle playoff run” and “the Montreal hockey media eats people alive even in good years”. He has been lucky so far in his struggles because he’s still young enough to be cheap. And I’ve still seen plenty of people already writing him off anyway.

Make no mistake: I love KK, I love what he brings to the team, I love how he fits in with the rest of the young core and their dynamics, and I really believe he has the potential to break out into a formidable 2C lowkey-superstar. And I was really, really looking forward to hopefully watching that growth and achievement happen with the Habs, as part of the super exciting future that has been building here. I will be heartbroken if this leads to him leaving, genuinely. My biggest worry with having this bright and shiny new core was always that I would have to watch it get torn apart and turn sad just like the last one.

But now that this contract, right now, at this point in his career is going to be the price of keeping him? I don’t know if matching it will be what’s best for the team as a whole, or even what is best for KK. I don’t know if Carolina actually gives a shit about him as a player enough to use and develop him right if they keep him, or what their end goal here even is other than definitely very literally getting petty revenge for the Aho thing, just look at their Twitter (I think the idea of this as DeAngelo counter-PR has become a bit overblown as an explanation, because surely they MUST know they could end up holding the tab for this and all the risk of it in the end, and that this will die down eventually, so either they’re incredibly stupid or there’s some other benefit here).

And regardless of which way everything goes, I can’t think of anyone I trust less to make the best choice for everyone involved than Marc fucking Bergevin.

[bonjour-rainycity]

Double Heart | Chapter Five ~ Cosima

|previous part|

Pariring: Haldir x OFC

Rating: PG

Word count: 3418

Warnings: Tw gaslighting 

**Read on Ao3 under the user “bonjour_rainycity” if you prefer!**

A/n Thanks for the love on the last chapter! Happy Monday :)

My cloak is dry in the morning, thank goodness. I cozy up in it the first chance I have, grateful for the thick material that I complained about only a few days prior. I help Rumil tack his horse and then mount. He lets me steer the beast again, insisting that I need more practice. Before we set out from camp, Haldir circles his horse around to face the five of us.

“We have gone north far enough. Now, we head west. Stay sharp as we near the mountains. If you see or hear something that causes concern or even seems remotely unsettling, say something.” Murmurs of solemn agreement run through the group.

Briefly, Haldir’s eyes lock with mine. I raise an eyebrow, silently reminding him of my question from last night. He nods once, almost imperceptibly, then turns his horse. I urge my own to follow, and vaguely realize I don’t even know its name.

“Hey, Rumil?” I turn over my shoulder to glance at him, then face back to the road. I really shouldn’t look anywhere other than the path.

“Yes?”

“I never asked—what’s the horse’s name?”

Rumil snorts, patting his horse affectionately on the side. “You never asked his name because you don’t like him.”

I sputter at the accusation. “Wha—no! I don’t mind the horse—it’s fine!”

“But you don’t like the horse,” he teases, grinning broadly.

I huff, gathering as much dignity as I can. “I just don’t enjoy the height of the horse, nor the fact that he throws me around. I don’t mind the horse itself.”

My companions chuckle indulgently and Baranor gives me a playfully exasperated sigh. “Well, if he won’t tell you, I will. The horse’s name is Roch.”

“Roch,” I repeat, turning the unfamiliar name awkwardly around my tongue. “That’s not a name I recognize. Does it mean anything or was it just something you liked?”

My question is met with snickers.

I furrow my eyebrows, looking around at my friends. “What?” Then, I see the pointed looks Orophin gives the horse, and realization begins to dawn. I twist in my seat to glare unbelievingly at Rumil. “Tell me you did not name your horse, ‘Horse!’”

Pink tints Rumil’s cheeks. “I was practically an elfling when I named him!”

Orophin howls with laughter. “Do not make excuses, brother, you were fully of age!”

“Barely,” Rumil defends, voice squeaking with indignation.

This, of course, makes us all laugh even harder.

“Well then, giddyup Horse the horse.” I take a hand from the reins to pat Horse’s shoulder, then right myself once more. I spare a quick glance to Alex, who hasn’t said a word all morning, and find him glaring over Baranor’s shoulder.

He still doesn’t trust them.

You shouldn’t, either, a voice reminds me.

Pushing that thought aside, I squeeze Roch once more, encouraging him to keep pace with the group.

{***}

Exhausted from days of travel and the weather yesterday, the horses can’t manage much more than a trot for long. I can tell this frustrates my companions, but they give the horses the rest they need—Haldir eventually calling for us to slow to a walk. I take the opportunity to slide off Roch’s back and walk by myself, giving my muscles a bit of a break. Alex soon follows suit, limping slightly.

I hurry to catch up to him. “How’s your leg?”

“Healing, I think. Baranor says not to let it get dirty again and I should be fine. It’s not my leg that’s bothering me—it’s my ass! Horseback riding is no joke.”

I giggle, reaching my arms overhead as I walk. “Right! My first day here I was practically hobbled over. It does get better, though. Just keep walking and stretching when you have the chance.”

He tilts his head, giving me a sidelong look. “So, how long have you been here?”

I shrug. “Same as you, I think, based on when you say you woke up. I…” I sigh, not sure how long he’ll let me talk about our situation before he shuts me down. “I’m sorry you had to wander by yourself for a few days. It must have been scary. I know how lucky I was to have help right away.”

“It was scary.” He moves to slide his hands into his pockets, then realizes his leggings don’t have any. He huffs, crossing his arms over his chest instead. “But what I can’t figure out is why they separated us?”

I furrow my eyebrows. “Huh?”

“Well, obviously we had to be taken together. Given what we can remember, we’re really close friends. It makes no sense for our kidnappers to take us both randomly—it must have been an effort to get us together. Maybe we were traveling? Or maybe a mutual friend of ours is wealthy, and the kidnappers are trying to pull a double ransom? But regardless of why they took us, why didn’t they keep us together? Did I fall out of the car or something? Or did the police catch on and they were forced to dump us in different places to slow the cops down?”

I look at him from the corner of my eye. He’s not going to like what I’m about to say. But the differences between us and the others, the wide and unfamiliar world we find ourselves in, the new constellations…it’s getting too much to ignore. “Alex…my gut says we weren’t kidnapped.”

He whirls to face me, a slightly wild look in his eye. “What, then? Do you think we came here and got hit over the head willingly?”

“No,” I shake my head. “I—I just think that maybe…well, if we’re both here, then we can pretty much rule out a head injury or drugs or something causing our imaginations to run wild in the same way at the same time…And there’s no evidence we were kidnapped—I mean, look at who we’re traveling with. If they wanted, they could easily tie us up and throw us over the horses, but instead they’re teaching us and sharing their supplies with us. They stopped to help. And, I mean, with all that exists in space…there’s a whole universe out there…is it crazy to believe that maybe something like this is possible? That we’re in a different world?”

He’s shaking his head vehemently before I’ve even finished speaking. “Cosima, please tell me you’re smarter than that. There’s no such thing as other worlds! Where’s the evidence that this place isn’t on Earth? Huh? Logically, it has to be a kidnapping or a drugging, or maybe even some conspiracy to run experiments on us.”

“Evidence!” I bark a humorless laugh, not at all appreciating his condescending tone. “Okay, how about the armor and the landscape and the fact that our companions have pointed ears and way better senses then we do. How about the constellations that I’ve never seen before in my life? There are no cell towers, no skyscrapers — I haven’t seen train tracks or cars. Even if we were just in an isolated area of Earth, I feel like we would have heard a plane by now! Alex, there is nothing consistent with the world we know.”

He quickens his pace, fists clenching in frustration. “But we don’t have our full memories—maybe the world we remember isn’t all of it. Maybe this stuff is perfectly normal!”

“And maybe it isn’t,” I shoot back, crossing my arms over my chest. “Come on, why are you quick to dismiss taking the people who saved our lives at face value?”

“You are too trusting, Cosima! You always have been—too trusting and too naive and it’s going to get you into trouble. It already has!” His voice has risen well above polite volume and, though they could probably hear us all along due to their enhanced senses, I see four heads tilt in our direction.

Alex notices, too. He steps forward, gripping my arm and pulling me to a stop. I suck in a breath. He realizes the force behind his grip and pulls his hand away, giving me an apologetic look. “Sorry. But you have to understand—now is not the time to be friendly and accepting. I may not remember much, but I do know that I’ve always looked out for you. You know that, don’t you? So why would now be any different?”

I eye him warily, contemplating his words.

And he’s right.

In every memory I have of him, he’s nothing but kind to me, looking out for me however he can. At one point, we were inseparable. I must have trusted him then.

So perhaps I should trust him now.

He sees the shift in my resolve and knows he’s hit his mark. He draws in close once again but makes no move to touch me. “Cosi…” My eyes snap to his with the nickname and the unexpected surge of warmth that comes with it. He smiles softly. “I’m willing to bet that back home, we have people missing us. It’s our duty to do everything we can to get back to them. Don’t let yourself be deceived or distracted.”

The sound of hooves touching the ground gets nearer and I look up in time to feel the puff of warm air as Haldir’s horse exhales on top of my head. Haldir sits high, chest plate glinting in the sun and casting a bit of a glare on his face. I have to squint to see him properly. “Is everything alright?”

Both he and Alex look to me, waiting for my answer. I shift under their gazes.“Yeah.”

Haldir nods once. “Good. Keep walking or get back on a horse. We cannot lose any more time than we already have.” He turns and rides away, resuming his spot leading the group. Alex gives me a fortifying nod then signals to Baranor, pulling himself atop the mighty steed. Rumil speeds up Roch to catch up to me—he had fallen behind, watching our backs as the group became more spread out due to mine and Alex’s argument. How can I not trust him?

Rumil extends a hand down to me. “Coming up?”

But Alex is right. Somewhere, I must have a family, friends too, and I need to do all that I can to get back to them. Real or not, I cannot get sucked into this world that has both frightened and enchanted me for too long.

So, I shake my head, keeping my eyes low to the ground so no one will see how much this decision costs me. Because despite knowing that it’s the choice I have to make, it hurts me to shun my new friends. “No. I want to keep walking.”

And, for the remainder of the day, I stay on my feet, traveling alone.

{***}

I’m grateful when Haldir asks me to clean the horses’ tack. It’s a little more complicated than I anticipated, so I must concentrate, and I’m thankful for anything that can occupy my mind.

I have not felt normal since my conversation with Alex.

Every look or kind word from one of these new friends sends a wave of guilt through me, and, by nightfall, I have a stomachache. I cannot look Rumil in the eye, nor Baranor, and Haldir and Orophin mostly ignore me anyway, so maybe I’ve already ruined my relationships with them. Then, I have to wonder, is that good or bad? If they are as troubling as Alex says, then it’s good that they don’t like me. It makes my job of staying away from them easier. But if they’re as everything in me screams they are—strange, impossible, but good, then I’m a terrible person for pushing them away.

I don’t know who to trust. I don’t know whose word to take at face value. I cannot even rely on myself, as my memories are so incomplete. And, as Alex said, I do have a habit of trusting people right away. My perception of these men might be skewed just because they’ve shown me common decency. But then that begs the question…could my perception of Alex also be skewed?

I try to force the thought from my mind, concentrating even harder on eliminating every speck of dust from the leather and metal of the tack. Eventually, Orophin comes to get me, saying that it’s getting late and well past time to rest and eat dinner. I reluctantly put away my task.

He leads me nearer to the small fire and the camp that’s gathered around it. To my surprise, we have meat tonight—someone caught a hare and cooked it over the fire. Orophin crosses his legs on the ground, sitting between his two brothers, which means that only Baranor is on watch tonight.

I hover uncertainly at the edge of the group. Is it even right to sit with them, knowing that I’m questioning their character? This reminder of Alex makes me realize that he’s not here. I’m about to ask where he is—surely Haldir wouldn’t put him on watch—when I hear his voice.

“Cosima?”

I tilt my head towards the sound, seeing that he’s set up under a tree. I guess I’ll go join him, then. I turn back to the men lounging by the fire, all of whom look up at me expectantly. I swallow, shifting on my feet. “Um, I’m actually going to stay over there with Alex tonight. See you in the morning.” I give a half-wave and turn, but Rumil’s call brings me back.

“Here, at least take a bedroll.”

I shake my head, my stomachache intensifying. I can’t take any more of their kindness. “It’s fine, thank you though.”

He stands, extending the mat towards me. “No, really, it’s no trouble. We all are—”

“I said I didn’t want it, Rumil.”

He freezes at the harshness in my tone, the venom in my words, and I feel absolutely awful. He looks so shocked, like he has no idea where the sudden anger came from…he didn’t deserve it. He quickly morphs his expression into one of indifference and shrugs. The action is stilted and unnatural looking. “Suit yourself. Come back if you change your mind.”

I feel each of their eyes boring into my back as I turn away from them to walk towards Alex. Ohhh, I was so mean. They must hate me now. Rumil didn’t deserve that.

Alex greets me with a smile, so at odds with the turmoil raging within me. I sit, leaning my back against the tree. The main camp is well within my eyesight, and Orophin and Haldir stare at me. Rumil avoids my gaze, intently reorganizing his pack. Haldir catches my eye and raises a stern eyebrow, looking pointedly to his youngest brother and then back at me.

I feel a little nauseous.

I turn my gaze away, as well as my back, lying down and curling up facing the tree. “Goodnight.”

I hear the surprise in Alex’s voice. “You don’t want dinner? There’s meat tonight.”

“No.” Again, sharpness creeps into my tone. Regret twists in my stomach. I don’t feel okay. I don’t feel right at all. The tears come, and I curl further into myself, trying my best to hide the noise and the shaking. I don’t want them to know because they’re kind and they’ll try to make me feel better.

I don’t deserve to be comforted.

And, given how I feel, how the grief and indecision and anxiety tear me apart, I’m not sure they could even help.

{***}

Everyone pretty much gives me a wide berth in the morning. Even Alex, who doesn’t stray far from my side, doesn’t try to talk to me. I do my chores in silence, not feeling very social. The horses had grazed a bit during the night, though not far from Baranor’s watchful eye, and I climb over the hill to join them in the valley. Roch, used to me by now, trots up to meet me, nuzzling at my hands in the hope that I’ve brought him food. This makes me feel even worse, as I hadn’t thought to bring him a snack.

“Sorry, Horse.” I reach up to pet his nose, then let my fingers tangle in his mane, examining the braids Rumil put there.

“It’s not safe to be out here on your own.”

Though the voice is quiet, I start, not having heard Haldir come up on my left.

I take a few breaths to calm my racing heart. “The others do this all the time.”

Haldir exhales contemplatively, taking Roch’s muzzle in his hands and brushing his thumb over the soft hairs there. “The others are extensively skilled in battle and are aware of their surroundings. You are a human with no weapons who just let me sneak up on her.”

I click my tongue, playing for time. He’s got me there. “When you say ‘extensively skilled’…how extensive are you talking?”

He smiles almost indulgently. “Thousands of years.”

I gulp and renew my efforts brushing through Roch’s mane. I cannot wrap my mind around such a long time, nor reconcile it with Haldir’s smooth face. “So…that would make you…?”

“Three thousand, six hundred and thirty five years old.”

I exhale, leaning forward into Roch’s mane.

“Are you alright?”

I twist my head to see a small amount of humor dance in his eyes, and I let my exasperation be known. “That’s impossible. There’s no way someone can be over three thousand years old.”

He shrugs, calling for his own horse, Faervel, to join us. “Impossible for a human, maybe, but elves are made to live eternal lives. You and your friend are still new to this world, but you will soon catch on to its workings. Keep your eyes open—there is much to learn.”

At the mention of Alex, I purse my lips, turning my focus back to Roch. I work the bit into his mouth and try to persuade him to lower his head so I can throw the bridle over. He doesn’t budge, leaving me to contemplate the merits of jumping to accomplish my task. After a moment, a pale hand and a worn blue tunic come into my view. I step to the side, allowing Haldir and his height to finish tacking the horse. When he’s done, he turns to me, still holding the reins in his hand.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Uh oh. I try to match his unaffected air. “There’s nothing to talk about.”

He raises an eyebrow. There’s no judgement in his eyes, but he stares into mine like he’s systematically assessing every though I’ve ever had, every decision I’ve ever made, and determining the clarity with which I will make decisions in the future. I fight the urge to look away, feeling my cheeks go hot.

“You snapped at Rumil and cried most of the night.”

“Ugh,” I close my eyes, turning my head from his scrutiny. I take a beat, trying to push away the onslaught of embarrassment. “I didn’t know you guys heard that.”

“The exchange with Rumil happened in front of everybody.”

“The crying, I mean,” I interject, holding up a hand to stop him from continuing. I hate this. I hate the way his eyes burn into mine, trying to lure me into a vulnerable conversation. I feel myself tensing up. I try to force my shoulders to fall from their spot bunched up by my neck. “It’s nothing.”

He stares me down for a moment, not even bothering to disguise the fact that he doesn’t believe me. But finally, he nods, evidently letting it go. He hands me Roch’s reins. “I expect we will reach the mountains either this evening or tomorrow morning. The closer we get, the more dangerous our journey becomes. I understand you are sensitive, but you must clear your mind and focus on the journey. You can deal with your feelings once we reach Imladris.” With that, he takes the reins of Faervel and jerks his head, beckoning me to follow him.

I huff, starting after him, completely incensed. What did he just say? “I am not sensitive!”

He throws a wry smile over his shoulder. “Forgive me, you obviously took my comment quite well.”

Grumbling, I pull Roch with me and stomp after Haldir. Maybe I won’t miss his friendship.

A/n Thanks for reading! Likes, comments, and reblogs are the best :) Let me know if you would like a tag! And if you’re having trouble being tagged, try subscribing on Ao3! That will notify you automatically when I post there. 

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[mulletpeters]

toothache of the mind

ship: peterpatter

rating: g

word count: 1938

tags: canon compliant, pre-canon, high school, 1990s, best friends, feelings realization, pining

Reggie gets braces for his sweet sixteen.

He doesn’t tell anyone―not even his best friends in the whole wide world. So when he walks into homeroom the Tuesday after his birthday, Luke nearly topples out of his chair at the sight of the metal wrapped around Reggie’s adorable little snaggletooth. Alex may or may not be hyperventilating, but Luke wouldn’t know. He’s distracted.

Reggie, for his part, is acting like Luke’s world hasn’t just been tilted on its axis in a dangerous way. “Hey, guys,” he says nonchalantly. “Sup?”

Alex recovers much quicker than Luke, though there’s still a glint of concern in his eyes. They both know how self-conscious Reggie can be, especially about his smile, so he treads carefully. “Hey, Reginald. Do anything fun for your birthday?”

They had their own party on Friday after school―Luke gave Reggie a new studded strap for his bass because the one he’d found in Bobby’s garage had started to look pretty sad―but Reggie’s parents are the type to force family time onto him any chance they get. Luke has a sneaking suspicion they only do it so they can use Reggie against each other in whatever asinine argument comes up that day, but it’s not like he can really do anything about it. None of them can, so Reggie is unfortunately left to his own devices when it comes to compulsory dysfunctional family celebrations. “Not really,” he says in lieu of giving any actual details; he’ll tell them eventually, but a crowded classroom is not ideal for dishing out his personal drama. “Got braces.” He shrugs, like his mom hasn’t made him feel like shit about his less than perfect teeth for most of his childhood. Definitely since Luke’s known him, anyway, and they’ve been friends since they were ten.

“Oh, did you?” Alex asks, and it sounds borderline sarcastic but he holds back most of his usual bite. “Let’s see ‘em, then.” He holds an arm out in a grand gesture like he’s giving Reggie the floor, and Reggie flashes the most hesitant smile Luke’s ever seen on him.

Luke swears his heart stops, but Alex is once again carrying the conversation so he does his best to tune in. “Oh, nice,” Alex says, approving of the red brackets stuck to the front of Reggie’s teeth with a slight nod.

Reggie returns the gesture, and he looks considerably more relaxed now that he knows his friends won’t shun him for something this mundane. “Thanks,” he tells Alex before turning to face Luke, and he looks a little apprehensive, like maybe Luke should get his brain to reboot so he can offer some reassuring words instead of just staring like a total weirdo.

Luke wants to say something about how red looks good on him, or how it’s cool that it’ll match his favourite flannel, or maybe he’d settle for even just a supportive thumbs up. What actually comes out of his mouth is, “How long do you have to wear them?”

Reggie gives him a funny look, head tilted and brow furrowed. “Only like, a year,” he answers anyway, and Luke wants to scream.

Thankfully, the teacher chooses that moment to draw their attention to the front of the room, and Reggie turns around in his seat so Luke can only see the back of his head. Luke sighs in relief, sinking further into his chair till his limbs are sprawled out into the aisle, accepting his defeat. It’s gonna be a long year.

-

Luke decidedly does not address the issue after that day. The issue being that weird fluttery feeling he gets in his chest every time Reggie smiles at him, or laughs, or talks, or breathes. Basically any time he sees the glint of metal in Reggie’s mouth, really.

It’s not like this is a new development, exactly; Luke has always had a bit of a soft spot for Reggie, a little bit of weakness. In the six years they’ve known each other, he can’t recall a time that Reggie just existing didn’t make his brain static out. The braces just made him recognize what’s always been true, even if he still doesn’t know how to make sense of it.

Normally he’d talk to his best friends about whatever’s on his mind, but he can’t very well articulate a dilemma he can’t comprehend to begin with. Plus, he doubts Alex would be any help, considering he’s got his own set of issues to work through, and he’d rather die than bring it up with Reggie himself. And as for Bobby, well. Bobby’s got the emotional depth of a puddle. So, naturally, he does the only logical thing there is to do: he writes.

He figures if Reggie’s smile is stuck in his head like a song, he might as well make it one. It’s what he’s good at, and it gives him a false sense of separation from the issue that grants a certain clarity he can’t get any other way. He jots down pages and pages of lyrics, curled up in his bed late one night, fingers itching for his guitar even though he knows his mom would kill him if she caught him playing at 1am again. So he just sits cross-legged on his comforter, hunched over his ratty old notebook, scrawling cliche lines about green eyes and freckles and an endearingly crooked canine.

It’s the sappiest thing he’s ever written. When he reads over it before school the next morning, he knows he’s well and truly fucked.

-

Reggie plops down into the dip in the center of the studio couch, inadvertently leaning onto Luke’s shoulder. “You working on a new song?” he asks, tilting his chin at the notebook on Luke’s lap like the question needs clarification.

Luke nods even as he scrambles to shut the book, shuffling loose papers to stuff them between the creased cover. “Uh,” he stammers, biting his lip. “Yeah, I am.”

Reggie just nods back, averting his eyes to look up at the loft when he realizes that Luke doesn’t want him to see the song. “Rad. What's it called?” He glances at Luke, offering a comforting smile that says Luke can tell him as much or as little as he wants.

And well, that's the thing. Luke hasn't given it a name yet―the song, or the bewildering cocktail of feelings that inspired it to begin with. So he looks up from his scratchy handwriting to Reggie’s lopsided grin and says the first thing his useless brain can come up with. “Crooked Teeth.”

“Oh.” Reggie’s smile slides right off his face and Luke realizes what he's done half a second too late. Reggie bites his lip self-consciously, fidgeting with the sleeves of the flannel tied around his waist as Luke scrambles to backtrack into less sensitive territory.

“It's about Bobby,” he blurts unwittingly. And technically speaking, it is a little bit about Bobby, mostly because it's a little bit about the whole band, seeing as they’re mentioned in one line of the second chorus. But Bobby’s not the point of the song, not by a long shot. Luke decides Reggie doesn't need to know that, though. Especially not when his face lights up at the revelation, conspiratorial eyebrow raised like Luke’s letting him in on some great secret.

“Oh, snap! Well, I won't tell him, but don't let him find those lyrics.” Reggie winks, and it's not like it’s an unfamiliar sight, but Luke’s heart stutters out of time all the same. He's just glad Reggie isn’t the type to ask to see a song before Luke’s ready to share it; Luke doubts he'll ever be ready to share this particular piece, but if he does show it to Reggie, it'll be his choice.

He laughs halfheartedly, more a forceful exhale than anything else, and lands a playful punch to Reggie’s bicep. “Sure, man.”

Reggie just smiles wider. It feels like a kick straight to Luke’s solar plexus.

-

“You told him it’s about Bobby?” Alex asks, but what Luke hears is, you’re an idiot. Luke looks down at his best friend―he used to consider Reggie his best friend too, but he thinks maybe Reggie is in a category all his own at this point―and frowns. “He got his braces off before we even met him.” Alex stands up, walking around his drum kit to pace the floor. “And you told Reggie it’s called Crooked Teeth before you said that? Dude, you know how insecure he is about―”

“Yeah, Al, I know,” Luke huffs, cutting him off. It’s not the title Luke would've consciously chosen, but it's weirdly fitting, in a sort of convoluted way. Like, maybe Reggie’s teeth weren’t the sole catalyst for this whole...whatever this is, but they definitely played a major part. Luke’s really gonna miss Reggie’s snaggletooth, okay? He resents Reggie’s parents for a lot of reasons, but forcing him to get braces instead of a real birthday present is pretty damn high on the list.

Alex, with all his anxiety-induced powers of perception, notices Luke’s internal struggle and momentarily stops wearing a hole in the floor. “You’re kinda wiggin’ out, man. Chill.” He holds his hands out in what’s meant to be a placating gesture, but the drumsticks in his fists sort of ruin the effect.

“You’re one to talk,” Luke mumbles, but he doesn’t mean it, and Alex knows that. He’s just confused, and stressed, and generally unsure what to do with his recent epiphany. “What should I do?” he asks louder, eyes pleading.

Alex goes back to nervously lapping the room, and Luke picks at a loose string on his guitar strap just to have something to do. “I dunno,” Alex says after what could very well be an eternity. “But I think you’d feel better if you told him.”

Luke’s eyes shoot up to meet Alex’s gaze, brow furrowing involuntarily. “You what?”

Alex walks over, planting his feet in front of Luke, clapping a hand on Luke’s shoulder that isn’t holding his guitar strap up. “You’re clearly upset about this, Lucas. Tell him.”

Luke is shaking his head before Alex has even finished his sentence. “Not happening.” He folds his arms like a petulant child, but it loses its effectiveness when his guitar gets in the way, a sad thump echoing through the room. “I wouldn’t know what to say, anyway.”

Alex cocks an eyebrow with a pointed look at the notebook sitting on top of Luke’s amp. “I think you already said it.”

Luke follows his line of sight, eyes landing on the folded corner of a piece of paper sticking out from all the others. He already knows what’s written on it―has the words memorized by now. They were written on his heart long before he put them to the page, anyway.

Bobby bursts into the studio then, Reggie in tow, and the moment is broken. They’re laughing about something Bobby said, and Reggie is as beautiful as ever as he throws his head back, and Luke thinks that maybe one day he’ll get the courage to tell him how he feels. He’ll ask Alex to work with him on the music to go with his lyrics, maybe even get Bobby to help with the melody. He’ll throw rocks at Reggie’s window and serenade him from his front lawn like they do in the movies, and his friends will back him up, and it’ll be perfect.

For now, he needs to focus on perfecting the songs they already have. They’ve got a show at the Orpheum next summer to prepare for.

[kassies-take]

It’s A Luthor’s Life

Summary: Lex Luthor knows everything. Everything besides what is in Lena Luthor’s penthouse.

A/n: I should really get to the requests before I start something new... Too late, I have to right it down before I forget it.

Warning: Isolation, Assurance

Lena Luthor x Reader

Word Count: 2270

After the whole Crisis thing, Lena Luthor hasn’t gotten a break. She went from powerful CEO of L-Corp to second in command to her deranged brother of LuthorCorp. She went from ‘oh I wouldn’t know I never stood behind a man’ to standing behind the worst man possible. She has lost everything she has built towards a good name for the Luthors, ever since the New World kickstarted. It doesn’t help that her own office is invaded and even her lab infested with her brother’s personal belongings and tech. Who the hell does Lex Luthor think he is? 

There is at least still one place the former CEO could go to for sanctuary. Her own penthouse. Her home, which is actually ironic due to the fact that after she ran from letting her mother drown she hasn’t stopped running since. She had tried to make it work in Metropolis, in National City yet that all came back to bite her in the ass. 

The penthouse that was once empty, dull, and colorless. A place she was rarely in before, is now the place she wants to be in the most. Granted it was still empty, dull and colorless but it was at least free from the hands of the cold and dangerous would outside. She made sure it stayed that way. 

Right now the safest place for Lena was in her penthouse. At the moment she was using that to her advantage, she did not want to be found. She was taking a well deserved bath with scented candles and aged wine. The fluttering lights, the warm bath and the beautiful wine was doing wonders on her mind. She could feel the weight on her shoulders disappear, that was until a deafening crash erupted in the silence of her own penthouse. 

The brunette immediately dried herself off, wrapped herself tightly with a long white robe and put on some underwear. She did not need anyone to see her naked glory right now.  

Every scenario the Luthor ran in her mind, did not prepare her to find a young adult. Not to mention a young adult, battered, bruised and bleeding from the obvious glass beneath them. How the “child” managed to get through the window wouldn’t have surprised her if she lived on the first floor, but she was living on the goddamn twenty-third floor. 

The “odd” Luthor immediately looked to the sky as if expecting some alien creature to attack, or even kill, the groaning figure in front of her. Fifteen seconds, thirty, a minute goes by before the woman closes the broken window with a force shield. 

Only then did the lively and noisy city below become muted, but the huffs and puffs amplified from the damaged stranger. 

“No one can know I am here,” the stranger coughed out.

“You need a doctor.”

“I do n-” she was interrupted.

“You are bleeding out on my floor.”

“I’ve been through worse. Luthor assassinations and kidnaps from Cadmus.”

“Who are you?” ‘

“(Y/n) Luthor. CEO of L-Corp and probably paralyzed now.” 

That was all the older, got. Another Earth or possibly another odd one out. That was impossible, even if this dying stranger was the product of another Lionel affair there was no L-Corp. The business woman’s thoughts were interrupted when she spotted a light blue glow in a bottle like cylinder. 

Curious a Luthor will ever be, she took it from the unconscious person in front of her. Her curiosity would’ve been better if she did not press the button on the bottom or the top whichever it was. Lena screamed at the expansion of the clear glass. The curiosity did not kill the cat yet, the Luthor’s eyes shined at the hologram controls of what now seemed to be a healing chamber. 

A small glance was given to the other supposed Luthor, and she was compelled to help. She first deactivated the healing chamber and opened her closet door. Like her office, she had a safe room in her home and activated the chamber in a lead-lined room. She placed the (h/c) haired in the chamber. As it sealed shut the same hologram appeared with settings, though the technology seemed to complete the setting on it’s own. 

The tank slowly filled with a light blue liquid, a breathing apparatus placed on their nose and mouth When the tank was completely full, a holographic gauge appeared on the glass. The level of healing measured, and by the looks of it, it seemed as if they would be in the chamber for a while as different machines were being indicated to be needed for a faster recovery. But because the technology was not existent at the moment the recovery would take longer than it usually would but a lot faster than in medical innovations set in this time. 

Lena had been checking on the mysterious stranger daily for six weeks. There was some familiarity to you. Someone she couldn’t bare to face at the moment.

What she didn’t know was that that familiarity was the truth.

In 2043, a year before the heroic sacrifice you had convinced Stephanie Olsen-Danvers to use an image inducer to change spots with her. Lena didn’t allow you to be a field agent but that’s all you wanted to be with your two older brothers, Liam and Lucas, (twins) flying around. Your powers had not yet manifested and you wanted to see if they would activate during the field, Stephanie was better at all the businesswoman stuff anyways. You got your wish, but the cost was Stephanie’s life, an assassination attempt was successful. You watched as your brothers and your parents grieved, and so long you were wearing the image inducer, Stephanie would still be wearing your face. You stayed with Dansen that night, they were sad they lost their favorite niece and they knew “you” would’ve been worse because you and Stephanie were close. There was family therapy before the funeral with Kara, Lena, Liam, Lucas, Alex, Kelly and “Stephanie”. You bursted into tears the moment the session started and refused to accept comfort. You reached up to deactivate the image inducer while mumbling the word sorry repetitively.  

Gasps and sighs of relief mixed in the room. 

“I’m so sorry, I co-convinced her to sw-switch places with m-me. I wanted a b-break from L-Corp and she h-helped me. I didn’t know. I didn’t know. I’m sorry. I am so sorry.” 

Dansen were both furious. Alex more than Kelly. Kelly knew you didn’t know, she knows you would take it all back if you could, and that Stephanie would have felt the same guilt if you had truly died and she couldn’t have made the choice to save you. Alex argued with Kara, Lena and Kelly any chance she got, she refused to even speak to you unless they were on missions.Your brothers were torn, they were relieved you were alive but devastated Steph was gone. 

Then the inevitable happened. While Superfriends went ballistic on each other another attack was made. A threat far worse than murder but genocide. A massive nuclear bomb was set to blow all of National City and neighboring counties. Alex, Brainy, J’onn and Nia set to the MedBay, Kara and Lucas under sun lamps due to Kryptonite radiation and Liam left to tell everyone of the tragic news. Liam had gotten everyone to safety when the aftershock shook, Kryptonian DNA had mutated, during this generation of Supers to absorb explosions. You and Liam were supposed to absorb it together after Kara and Lucas were infected by a Kryptonite gas in another room. But you took the blow yourself. 

In the last seconds you remembered Sara’s time portal watch and used it to diffuse the bomb. Most of the explosion happened in the upper atmosphere of a different time while small chain reaction bombs reached National City. You were supposed to die, and yet here you were in your mother’s old penthouse. 

Your healing was nearly complete when Lena moved to the kitchen to make herself some tea. Kara landed right outside.

“Let me guess you’re here once again to tell me not to forgive you. Or maybe that I shouldn’t work with my brother?” She had to keep up her act, it was hard but she had to.

“Not this time. I realized I made a mistake in hiding my identity from you for so long but the past is the past, and I can’t change it. Forgive me or not that’s your choice. Just like it’s your choice to work with Lex. I’m done blaming myself for your bad decisions.” The last line hit Lena like a bus.

“Then why are you here?” Lena asked emotionless.

“To tell you that from now on, you’re accountable for your own actions. If you decide to forgive me, I will be there for you. But if you continue to work with Lex... If you go through with whatever it is the two of you are planning, I will do everything in my power to stop you... just like I would any other villain.” Lena didn’t want to be the villain, she was never the villain but this is the only way.

Lena left the tea untouched and marched towards her closet. The healing liquid fully drained as your eyes shot open. You pressed on the glass to open it as Lena stood watching.

“What she is not telling you is that she saw possible outcomes in which she told you she was supergirl earlier than Lex.” You began to change settings on the chamber.

“How do you know?”

“You can say that where I’m from, we’re close. But every situation in which she tells you there was always a worse outcome. So when would it have been a good time for her to tell you?” You turned to face Lena once you clasped the chamber into pocket size.

“Before Reign became all World Killer like.”

“Ehh....” you sighed before walking towards Lena’s kitchen.

“It was the right time in our friendship for her to have told me.” She followed after.

“You end up defeating Reign without Kryptonite, but it costed your life and Kara was not willing to live a life without you.”

“Well then maybe right from the start.”

You froze and looked up from the teapot.

“What, we would be able to have worked together. A super and a Luthor. We would be unstoppable.”

“Unstoppable until you get kidnapped, and Kara reveals her identity to the world to save you. But that information would be used to target all of your friends and they will all end up dead.”

“She wouldn’t reveal her identity for me.”

“You underestimate how much you actually mean to her. And before you say you’d be better off without Kara in your life, you are so wrong. Kara, time and time again, despite keeping a big secret from you has always been your number one supporter. The sole reason you haven’t turned evil was due to the fact that Kara Danvers always had your back.”

“How can you possibly know that! You don’t know that I’ve been betrayed by everyone in my life, by the ones I love the most!”

“Well it certainly won’t be betrayal if it’s by an enemy.”

Lena glared at the true statement.

“I let her in! While she was shutting me out!” Lena’s eyes began to tear.

“There are even certain things you have to keep to yourself. But you can’t do it alone. Humans, Kryptonians even Martians, we all need someone there with us, otherwise we will be nothing. Luthors especially.”

“You’re. You’re my daughter aren’t you.” The older walked towards you.

Your eyes watered behind the red and Lena cupped your face. “I know what it’s like to lose everyone. I know what it’s like to buy into my demons. But if it’s anything you taught me, is that you can still be who you are despite what everyone thinks.”

“So I can’t tell you what to do, I mean that would just mess with the timeline.” You and Lena chuckled. “But just know that everything will be okay for you. Obviously I was born.” You flipped your hair before you sniffed again.

“Why do I get a sense that it won’t be okay for you.”

“Because I killed my own cousin, I was selfish and I convinced her to be me. Luthors just can’t seem to get a break.”

“I agree with you on that. But you are my little secret so maybe you can help me with this Lex situation.”

“Huh,” you smiled.

“What?”

“My mom always told me that she didn’t stop Lex on her own. I always thought it was with Supergirl.” 

“The past and the future can be surprising.” Lena smiled. “What was your name again?”

“Uh for the sake of the timeline, you can call me Miss Luthor. I hope you also know that that means I won’t tell you anything about the future.” 

“Well Miss Luthor, I hope you know that you did not do a good job of hiding who you are.” Lena smiled at the House of El logo on your shoulder. “ A Luthor’s life is always going to have trouble, unless you have the House of El with you.”

“It’s a Luthor’s life. Well our part of the Luthors.”

“So I marry Kara? Do you have any siblings? Does Lex get what he deserves?”

“I said I can’t reveal anything more about the future.”

“How could you not want to ask questions? I am a Luthor afterall.” 

[planetsam]

Can I prompt you Michael having a moment to see Alex as a condition to building the bomb and maybe actually telling Alex what he means to him.

He’s been through worse.

Alex keeps repeating that to himself. This? This is nothing. Not to mention he knows the people doing this to him, it doesn’t take a genius to connect the dots. Taking out the main military person he gets, he can follow the thought process there. But that still leaves a lot of resourceful people. Kyle and Michael have both struck back against his father, he knows he hasn’t forgotten that. So either they are here too or he was taken for a different reason. They’re smart enough to restrain him properly. He’s tried to get out of the restraints but the last time he got semi close they caught on and he doesn’t know how long he was out for, but long enough. The door opens and he looks over.

“5 minutes.”

“Yeah, I got it.”

His stomach drops as Michael comes in, hands cuffed together. Seeing Michael in cuffs makes his stomach squirm, even though he knows Michael has been arrested so many times he probably has a dedicated pair at the police station. Then again the person who kept arresting him was Max. That failsafe isn’t here. The cuffs he’s wearing don’t belong to somewhere that will keep him safe. The fact that he’s cuffed at all is troubling. In his gut Alex knows what’s going on, but his mind struggles to catch up. He’s been through worse, he’s been captured and tortured as part of a unit. As a solider of the US Military.

He’s never been captured as leverage.

He and Michael have been used against each other for sure but this is a new and humiliating low. Alex as always struggled to have pride in the face of his family, in the face of what he is. No matter how far he comes they seem to have a unique talent for shattering it. Especially his father but also whoever is on his side. This though is a new low. This isn’t his father and a belt advancing on a kid, this is a full on sanctioned kidnapping. He’s a trained soldier, he’s supposed to be better than that. His focus has been on moving on, becoming a good man and not a military drone, but sitting in the chair has shown him how that isn’t an option. Not how he’s been doing it. Seeing Michael standing there in cuffs just hits him across the face with it.

“Are you alright?” He asks. Michael nods, “what did they do to you?”

“It doesn’t matter,” Michael says.

“Michael,” Alex begins. Michael winces at his name.

“Let say for all intents and purposes I’m as human as you are,” he says with a quirk of his lips.

Alex is horrified at the admission. This entire thing suddenly smarts of Caulfield. They’ve changed the glass for handcuffs and now he’s effectively the one in the cell, but it’s chillingly similar. His father is not the most creative man. Michael glances over at the door but doesn’t come much closer. Alex doesn’t know what they’ve told him, what they’ve done to him, but some of it is clearly tied to him.

“Whatever they’ve told you, don’t listen to them,” Alex says firmly, “I’m fine,” he tells him, “whatever happens to me is on me, not on you,” Michael looks away, “look at me,” Alex says, careful to keep his tone steady, “it’s not on you. This is because I’m my father’s son. You just got pulled into it because he’s got outdated information. You don’t have to do anything because of the past anymore.”

Michael looks down at his hands. It’s like a fucked up metaphor for what’s going on. Alex is as erased from there as he is from everywhere else in Michael’s life, barely even a mark to show for it. He’s sure the mark is there, like he’s sure the scar is there, he could even lie and say he knows where to look still, but it’s hard to be the one who is always looking. He’s not proud of how exhausted he is when it comes to that, it makes him feel like a coward, but sometimes—sometimes a battle is just lost. He fundamentally can’t accept that except when there truly isn’t another option. He’s always been the type to believe in another chance, in the slightest flicker of hope.

“I’m gonna get you out of here,” Michael says finally.

“Didn’t you hear what I just said?” Alex demands.

“Yeah,” Michael nods, “but I’m gonna get you out of here.”

“I appreciate that,” Alex starts, “but it’s not your responsibility—“

“They took you because they need me,” Michael says simply.

“Right,” Alex clicks the pieces together. If they believe that they won’t take anyone else. Maybe he can buy Michael some time to figure out how to stop them before anyone who matters gets hurt. Despite everything Alex would rather be the one in the chair. “Sorry they figured it out,” he says, “after the last few months I thought you had them fooled. You had me fooled.”

Michael gives a soft, humorless sort that’s almost genuine. Alex could almost believe it. Michael is simultaneously the worst and best liar he’s ever known. Maybe it’s the fact that his partially healed heart is being tugged open again, but for a single vulnerable moment Alex can let himself believe that they’re speaking about the same thing. He’s long since learned to channel his own pain into something useful. At the very least it will help him keep other people safe.

“Guess I’m not so miserable a liar after all, huh?” He says.

“You’re still pretty bad.”

“Come on, I’m not that bad,” Michael says. Alex scoffs, “I had you fooled.”

“That’s just because I got wrapped up in my own head,” Alex says, “everyone had me fooled for the past couple of months,” pain flickers in Michael’s eyes but Alex doesn’t want his pity, “hey know better, do better, right?” He tries to shift his weight but that risks his ankle and he needs that if he’s got any chance at making it out of here, “it doesn’t make you any better at lying to me.”

He hopes that it’s coming across he’s caught on. He’s ready to sell this and keep everyone else safe. He hopes Michael gets that and doesn’t do anything stupid out of his own guilt or obligation. Alex doesn’t want anyone getting hurt for him, he especially doesn’t want them getting hurt because of pity. He and Michael are on the same page that they’ve put each other through enough. Maybe they could have built a friendship out of this one day, but if his freedom means that someone else gets hurt it’s not a freedom Alex is interested in. He didn’t become a solider to keep himself safe.

“I guess we’re gonna have to have a long talk when this is over,” Michael says.

Alex opens his mouth to agree but doesn’t trust his voice with the reply. He settles instead for a nod. For a moment being bound here is too much. He has to force himself to calm down. He has to force himself to accept that actually he would like to have that conversation, even if Michael clearly doesn’t. He has to force himself to accept he’s angry and embarrassed that he has to sell this. The humiliation only gets worse when he sees concern on Michael’s face.

“I don’t want you or anyone else getting hurt trying to have it,” Alex says. Lies are always more believable when they’re based in truth, “besides one of us will probably just wind up walking away again.”

“We could choose not to,” Michael shoots back.

“When have we ever made that choice at the same time?” Alex asks.

“You just said—“ Michael’s brow furrows in confusion and then gives way to panic. Alex hears the door open, “I need a minute,” Michael says.

“No,” comes the flat reply.

Whatever Alex is expecting, Michael crushing their mouths together isn’t it. He moves fast and his lips are against his for one heart stopping moment. Alex isn’t even sure he manages to react before they are yanked apart. His head is yanked back and there’s a painful light in his face as they examine his mouth to see if Michael has given him a key or something. They take the light away and he manages to focus enough to see Michael being hauled to his feet. The gag muffles whatever he’s trying to say but the words aren’t necessary. In the moment all they can do is stare at each other, finally understanding.

“Don’t try to get me out of here!” Alex yells at him. Michael makes a noise through the gag, “whatever they’re trying to get you to do, don’t do it! Michael!”

There’s a splitting pain in his head and the world goes dark all over again.

[niall-is-my-dream]

Something Beautiful - Part Five

So I'm not 100% happy with this but here it is anyway.

Sorry I've been such a shit with updating this, lockdown has meant no time for myself. Let me know what you think!

catch up below

https://niall-is-my-dream.tumblr.com/post/615170836129808384/something-beautiful-masterlist

2815 words

Summer had passed in a blur of pure contentment. However Niall was in L.A. again and you were missing him. Since he began writing his second album, he had been bouncing between London and L.A. All the main writing had happened for it but he still needed to do a lot of work. He had been trying to do as much of it in London so that he could see family and friends more frequently especially over the summer, but it wasn't always possible.

Work at the publishing company had been busy and you'd had a lot of deadlines to adhere to. This was what was keeping you busy and stopping you from thinking about Niall too much. You hated the fact that you felt a little lost without him. You had spent a lot of time together in London and in that time you'd met his family and he yours, you'd had dinners together, late afternoon walks with Monty. And it was on one of those walks that you had been spotted together for the first time.

It had happened quite unexpectedly on a cool August evening, Niall had been walking around Wandsworth Common with you and Monty. Because of the heat you'd taken Monty out in the evening when it was cooler and still light. You'd been trying to avoid the lake in case Monty chased the ducks again, when a couple of girls aged around eighteen approached him. He had spotted them early on as soon as you had crossed over the bridge, it was like he had a weird ability to sense when he was being watched by someone, you guessed it came with experience.

The first you realised it was when they were right in front of you, although it did explain why Niall had distanced himself from you. You hadn't given it a second thought when he had moved his arm from around your shoulders. But it was because he knew someone was watching him and it was his way of protecting you from whoever that person was.

They eyed you up as they approached him, Monty came running over and dropped his ball at Niall's feet as if taking ownership of him. You loved the fact that Monty even as a young pup could show his protective side. The girls cooed over Monty as well as Niall and you found yourself being incredibly jealous.

Niall was such a sweetheart to the girls, they asked for a photo each and took interest in how his album was coming along. After initially scoping you out they paid no attention to you and you were thankful for it.

It was later that evening that Niall saw the initial speculation about who you were. Twitter had erupted with "who is the girl with the cute dog?" That phrase was fine by you, it could've been worse. There wasn't really any bad comments from what you could both see.

But the girls had managed to catch a sneaky picture of Niall with his arm around your shoulders. One where he was pulling you close to him and kissing your temple. It definitely looked a bit more than just friends apparently to his army of fans.

Luckily you didn't have your own Twitter or even Facebook. You did have an Instagram account but that was private and Niall didn't follow you anyway. Hopefully you could remain anonymous for as long as possible.

And now with Niall being back in L.A. the speculation about who you were was dying down. Niall had been monitoring it via Tara his PA, she was his eyes and ears when it came to gossip about him. She would make sure that if he was being talked about somewhere online then she was in the loop about it.

The beginning of September remained warm and you'd got the patio doors of your flat open to the garden. Monty was chilling out of the grass with a toy, your music blaring through your old record player. You were in the kitchen area prepping some dinner when a FaceTime call from Niall came through.

Upon hearing Nialls voice, Monty came bounding into the kitchen and jumped up at you.

"Woah Monty, wait your turn!" You said smiling.

Monty was circling your legs and wanting to be a part of whatever was going on, you knew he had heard Niall and was obviously missing him.

"Monty!" Niall called and Monty let out a little bark.

You slowly turned the phone around to face Monty, he nudged his face at the screen as Niall talked to him.

"You being good for your Mum?" He asked him.

You laughed a little at his conversation and at Monty who was staring at Niall with fascination.

"Right Monty, it's my turn. You go chill in your bed. Go on." You said and Monty wandered off to his bed that was by the end of the sofa. He sat in it but didn't take his eyes off you or your phone.

"I swear he loves you more than me." You muttered.

"He only loves me because I give him lots of treats."

"I'm aware!" You replied. "He's due his check up next week at the Vets so they will weigh him. He better not be piling on the pounds Horan!"

"Sorry." Niall replied laughing.

It was then that you saw he was sprawled out in bed, the crisp white sheets barely covering his torso.

"Did you just wake up?" You said seeing the clock said 6:45pm meaning it was 10:45am in L.A.

"Yeah, was at the studio till late. Just trying to decide what to do today, need to go to the gym at some point."

"I've only just finished work so am grabbing some dinner before I take Monty for a walk. It's been warm again today."

"Work busy?"

"Mmm have finally finished the edit that I've been working on for like three weeks. More assignments coming my way tomorrow."

"Any chance you could take some holiday or maybe work from a different location?"

"Possibly why?"

"I know I said I was probably coming back next week but I've got some interviews and stuff booked in now and they want to bring the single release forward by two weeks."

"That's amazing that they want to bring it forward and have got so much promo booked in for you. But won't that mean you'll be busy, why are talking about holiday time?"

"Because I wondered if you wanted to come over here for a bit?"

He wanted you to stay at his place in L.A?

Your mind was running a million miles an hour at how this would work. Would your boss allow you holiday or to work in a different time zone? Did you have any UK meetings booked in soon? What would you do with Monty?

"Niall...." You said carefully.

"I'm sorry I know it's a big ask. I just don't want to be apart anymore, I'll be here for at least another month."

"I would love to come and stay with you but.... "

"But?" He said looking slightly heartbroken.

"I can't leave Monty here, I have no one to have him for that amount of time. I can't ask Charlotte and Luke, they have a lot on with the wedding and everything."

"Alex, I meant Monty to."

You looked at him then as the realisation of what he was saying set in.

"I can't put him in a hold on the plane, I'm sorry." You said reluctantly. You knew animals were well cared for on flights but you couldn't even bare to think about leaving him alone like that in a strange place. He might have been two years old but he was still your baby.

"You won't need to. Tara is coming out in 10 days time and I can arrange a private plane for you, her and Monty. Rules aren't the same on a private chartered flight, he can sit with you for the entire time. Just need to get a letter from the Vets to confirm he's had all relevant vaccinations and is in good health."

"He could?"

"Yeah, look I know it's incredibly selfish of me to ask you to travel like that. I know your work and stuff is important to you.... I just miss you both so much. Can you have a think about it for a day or two and let me know?"

"It's so expensive to hire a plane...."

"Its not that bad."

"Small change for you hey?!" You smirked.

"Shut up, you make me sound like a right flash bastard." He smirked back.

There was silence for a moment while you took in the view in front of you, a topless Niall lying in bed. You missed him like crazy and you were sure you were due some holiday. You'd worked the last three months non stop. Would Monty be ok on the plane? He would probably love it and when he saw Niall straight after and he would know why he had taken the journey.

"Email me the details and I'll speak to my boss."

And that was how you found yourself sitting on a private plane with Niall's Assistant Tara and Monty on the way to L.A.

You hadn't had to organise anything for the journey apart from Monty's documents from the vets. Your boss has been so pleased with your work that she had said yes to some holiday straight away. Agreeing to take a week off work two weeks via L.A. And then have another week off before you returned home. She hasn't asked why you were going to L.A, and you hadn't disclosed it. Keeping this private was what you'd agreed to when Niall and you had decided to make things official, and you were fine with that. 

*****

The sunrise across Hollywood was beautiful, you could see why Niall chose to split some of his time here and London. Since arriving in L.A. a week ago you'd begun taking Monty out in the mornings.

You and Niall had dragged your bums out of bed early to avoid walking Monty later in the heat of the day. Monty needed walking early today not only because of the weather but because Niall had planned a bbq at his with some of his friends for you to meet. This was a big deal to you, as you really wanted them to like and accept you.

So here you were watching the sunrise with Monty sitting at your feet and Nialls arms wrapped around you. His face snuggled into your neck and the tender kisses he was giving you were giving you all sorts of feels. You didn't think anything to swipe that smile off your face, that was until Niall tensed behind you.

"You ok?" You whispered gently.

"Mmmm, just feel like we are being watched." He replied as he lowered his arms, he had been right the last time he had felt like that.

You turned to face him as he casually looked around the area where you had chosen to stop.

"For fucks sake." He mumbled.

Turning himself back to you, his body was flush with yours but his arms didn't wrap themselves back around you.

"Is someone watching us then?" You asked quietly.

"Yep, bloke with a fucking massive camera sitting in his car across the road. What the fuck is he doing out this bloody early?"

"Don't worry about it." You said reaching to stroke his arm to calm him. You may not be able to see his face but his body against yours was still tense.

"Come on, let's head home." He said as he turned and took your hand in his.

"Should we be holding hands?" You whispered.

"I feel like he's been watching us long enough, no point hiding it now." Niall replied sounding deflated.

You walked back to Niall's making small talk, but you could tell that the photographer seeing you both had rattled him. He had mentioned about wanting to keep things private, you had no intention on posting photos of him on your social media which actually only consisted of Instagram. And even then you really only posted pictures of your trips away and of Monty being cute. You couldn't imagine any of his fans remotely finding that interesting or using it to find a reason to hate you. Monty was cute.

Back in the safety of Niall's house, he let Monty off his lead and he scurried off towards the other end of the house where Mully's room was.

"Off to sleep at the end of Uncle Mully's bed again I see?!" Niall commented as Monty went out of sight.

"I know I feel slightly offended that he prefers Mully and you to me at the moment."

"What can I say Man is a dog's best friend!" He smirked back.

"Yeah whatever!" You smirked back.

"Well since we are all alone now, how about we go shower and I make you feel good?" He said as he pulled you close to his body. You loved it when he snuggled into your neck, his breath sending chills down your body.

"Do we have time?" You said, aware that his friends were coming over in a few hours and you both still needed to go to the supermarket and get some things sorted.

"We always have time for nakedness love." He whispered before whisking you upstairs.

*********

Monty was passed out at your feet while you chopped some salad for lunch, seems he did love his Mum still. He might have been an outgoing and lively dog, but he did get shy around lots of new people all at once. You were joined in the kitchen by Courtney who was a friend of Niall's, she was really sweet and had asked about your job and stuff. She got married a few months ago and so you talked about that and Charlotte and Luke's wedding that was happening in the next few month's.

"Hey Monty, what's up with you boy?" Niall asked as he came in from the terrace into the kitchen and crouched beside you.

"Think he's a little tired from messing around earlier with Mully in the garden and probably a bit shy from all the new people. No offense Courtney!" You replied.

"None taken." She said smiling genuinely.

"You want to come and sit in the shade with your Da?" Niall asked him and you paused, looking across at Courtney who's eyes were wide like yours. "I'll take him outside." Niall said to you. "I'm in the shade by the BBQ getting it warmed up."

You nodded a reply and carried on chopping the tomatoes, knowing that Courtney was going to say something as soon as Niall was out of earshot.

Niall reached down and beckoned Monty to follow him which he did and he walked happily with Niall back out onto the terrace.

"So....." Courtney said looking at you with a massive smile on your face.

"Sooo?!" You replied.

"You two are the sweetest! Did he really just refer to himself as Monty's Dad?! I love that! I have never seen him this happy." She said and she gave your arm a tender squeeze.

"He's never said it before, he always calls him his boy and stuff." You replied blushing.

"I tell you my heart right now is racing at how much I love this!"

"Do you think it's moving too fast? We've only known each other since January."

"Have you met each other's parents?"

"Yes."

"Has he told you he loves you?"

"Yes." You replied trusting her with the information you were giving her.

"Have you talked about moving in together?"

"No."

"I think you're fine. I knew after about four months of dating Sam that I was going to marry him. Everything is just exciting but comfortable and relaxed at the same time."

"Yeah that's exactly it." You said, amazed that she had read your situation so easily.

"Niall and I have spoken about you a bit while he's been here. Nothing personal! " She added quickly when she saw a look of horror on your face. "Just that he thinks things are so easy with you, in a good way. You seem to know when you both need your own time but also that when you're together it's fun, exciting and you're so normal it's refreshing. Honestly his last girlfriend was hard work!"

You laughed then.

"Thanks for saying that, I really hope everyone likes me today."

"I think everyone already does, we've never seen him this happy. Thank You for giving him back his spark."

You felt choked up at her words, the enormity of your relationship and how much he meant to you was really hitting home. And what made you feel the shivers right down to your toes was that you weren't scared of it.

Tag list

@ihearthemcallingforyou​

@mariamorris913​

[gra-sonas]

Michael Guerin's (Michael Vlamis) search for answers about his mother, Nora (Kayla Ewell), leads to quite a few answers in Monday's episode of Roswell, New Mexico.

Not only does he now know that his mother did want him — and wanted to leave with him — but he also knows the identity of the man who was hunting her who was formerly only known as Tripp (Jason Behr). It turns out that he was a Manes man, Alex's great-uncle to be specific. And Alex (Tyler Blackburn) also hands over the piece of the console he had.

Plus, "What if God Was One of Us?" ends with potentially good news regarding Max (Nathan Dean Parsons): his eyes opened in the pod. But what does that mean? Vlamis chatted with TV Insider about all that and more.

Tripp is Alex's great uncle. Alex seems to be the one who struggles with that the most, with Michael saying it wasn't him. Does that still affect their relationship — platonic or romantic — going forward?

Michael Vlamis: Something like that, big news, will always affect the relationship, but at the same time, Alex is a good person, and Michael Guerin believes that and knows that. He thinks he's not like his dad [or] his other family members, and he's really trying to help, and he does have that love for Guerin that Guerin hasn't experienced from many people. No matter how mad you want to be at someone for what their family did, it wasn't him who did it.

Yes, it'll affect the relationship with the news that we know, but at the end of the day, I have belief in Alex as a human being, as a kind-hearted soul, as the guy who gave me his guitar because he saw that my hand was fixed. He's looking out for my best interests, so I just want to be there for him during this time because what I'm going through is similar to what he's going through with struggling with demons from his family members and where he comes from, and does he have this evil inside of him that it seems his other family members have?

I don't want people to think that of me with what my family's gone through and the lies that we've created, so there's a little bit of forgiveness in that. If you take a step back, you really look at people are who they are in the moment and what they're doing now, you can't criticize someone for what someone else did that they had no control over. The two understand that, no matter how difficult that is, and that will help the come together even more.

Alex also gives Michael the piece of the console and admits he was worried he'd leave.

Michael Vlamis: That pissed me off. He's hiding a piece that I've been actively looking for, but how can you blame that on him when — at first, I blame him. I don't like that. It really bothers me … and it surprises me, but after a little self-reflection, after that moment, I know that he loves me, whether it's as a friend now or lover before. It's hard to not be selfish in these situations, and Michael Guerin is an evolved enough person to realize that. Whether he punches people first and asks questions later, eventually he always comes around, because he has a good heart.

Michael finds out his mom was working on a plan to leave with him. How important is that for him considering his past and how does it change who he is going forward?

Michael Vlamis: That's everything because it shows that he was wanted and it gives him a little bit more belief in himself that he wasn't just this runt of the litter that got cast aside. This season's interesting because it's Guerin who doesn't believe in hope, but he continually is given hope and then it's ripped away from him, so that's one of those moments where he's surprised and he feels loved for the first time in a while.

It gives him a chance to think that maybe he does belong, maybe there were people that wanted him out there and that might change his perspective on the world to show him that, that the people in town and Isobel and Max, even though he's gone, those people really did have love for him, and sometimes it's hard for him to accept that love. But he's coming around to it.

At the end of the episode, Max's eyes open, but the logline for the next episode teases, "the discovery of some complications with Max's pod forces Liz, Michael, and Isobel to confront the possibility that they may not be able to save him."

Michael Vlamis: It's a roller coaster ride. Like anything in life, when someone's going through a traumatic event, there's ups and downs, and we are given some hope in the next episode, but it's immediately stripped from us, and the characters almost feel like they need to go back to the drawing board.

Because Max is really gone. I think a lot of people thought that because he's a central character, and it's a big show, that he would come back sooner than he has. But the way that we're operating with the show is he's not coming back, so we get a little bit of hope next episode, but you realize the complications of what we're doing. The truth really sets in, after the next episode, which leads into a really crazy episode for Michael Guerin in Episode 5.

That is Michael Guerin's episode and we get some cool flashbacks of seeing Michael and Max and Isobel's relationship after they lied and the whole town got shook up with supposedly Rosa killing those girls in a drunk-driving accident. It's really cool to see how they went from buddies in high school, when Guerin's going off to college, and then when Guerin doesn't go off to college, how does he treat Max and kind of blames Max for his current situation. We see a lot of that unfold in Episode 5, and I'm really proud of that episode.

Isobel's been having a tough time lately, and we've mostly seen her with Liz. Are we going to see Michael and Isobel touching base?

Michael Vlamis: Oh yeah. Those two characters are kind of the rock for one another. It was always any time Max was pissing Michael off, he would go to Isobel, or Isobel would go to Michael. Isobel's always been the middle person, and right now, Michael is just feeling very secluded. It's easy for Michael to slip into playing the victim card, just because so many things haven't worked out for him, but at the end of the day, Isobel is his best friend. That's one of the few people — aside from Alex and maybe Maria now — that he actually feels he can confide in, so we have some really good moments. We spend a lot of time together as the season progresses.

~ TV Insider

[severalspoons]

Liveblog: Rewatching Trigun, Episode 17 part 2

Ugh, I just want to talk about Episode 18 already.

We pick up with Rem and the Captain talking. 

-- Rem has a very breathy voice.

-- Rem: “Because they’re angels...maybe we should pay attention to them...they may even guide us through our dream.” If only it turned out that way. I wonder how literally she believes that?

-- This scene with Vash and Knives in the zero-gravity room is so touching. 

Knives sounds genuinely concerned about Vash.

“Are you crying again?” Apparently Vash cries a lot. Color me not surprised. Knives cares anyway.

Steve has been telling Vash he’s not human, and probably that he’s a monster who shouldn’t even be here. What if everyone else feels that way about him and Knives, too? he worries. Worst of all, what if Rem feels that way?

I don’t know if Steve deliberately mistreated them differently, but they certainly reacted differently. He hit Vash where it hurt by telling him he didn’t belong. He beat up on Knives, which Knives could tolerate better. I think putting up with Steve’s abuse is the sort of “small sacrifice” Knives is talking about. :(

-- It fascinates me that Vash is the one who’s afraid and suspicious of humans, even though he desperately wants to belong. Knives is the one encouraging him that it will be possible to get along with people. He even empathizes with their perspective: “to these people we’re just uninvited guests. We only need to be patient a while.”

-- Vash asks whether Rem feels the same way as Steve. Baby, nothing could be further from the truth. You’re Rem’s favorite. Can’t you feel how much she loves you? 

-- Knives starts a conversation about the tree they’re lying under, but not really. He’s speaking in metaphors. I do this myself when I want to get across a complicated set of ideas and emotions quickly. It’s a great way to compact your message and add sensory examples so the listener can feel what you’re saying. And it’s perfect for bridging the gap between his train of thought and Vash’s feelings. Knives does the same thing in the more famous conversation about spiders and butterflies. 

“Rem said it’s because they’re strong...they concentrate all their energy on growing.” 

This is dreamy, mythological, fairy tale thinking. Rem, instead of giving them information about the world, is describing it poetically and helping them see it with wonder. I think Vash will return to this perspective on days when he wonders why he’s bothering trying to save people. (The way I go to Pinterest and look at photos of nature and the sky and people doing kind things until I feel like it’s worth living again). 

-- “Rem said...according to Rem...” I bet this conversation is frustrating for Knives. Knives is asking Vash what he thinks, and all he gets is secondhand Rem.

-- “Plants are strong, but we eat their fruit.” “We need to in order to live.” Does Vash know what sort of plant Knives is really talking about?

-- “Do you think I’ll be eaten some day?” ::heart breaks: 

Will they be drained for power the way the bulb plants are? Or experimented on? It’s a reasonable question.

It’s interesting. Although Vash is the one being told he’s not human, Knives is the one aligning his identity with plants. Or at least, trying it out during this conversation.

-- “So then, why am I here?” 

Knives is having a huge (and perfectly understandable) existential crisis. And no one seems to have good answers for him. Even Vash doesn’t seem to get it.

I don’t think telling him he’s an angel sent to Earth to help the crew would help him much. Either it’ll sound like more fluffy poetic nonsense to him, or it will feel like a huge burden. I mean, just listen to former “Indigo children,” whose parents may have legitimately believed their kids were sent to save the world. Instead, they became a hot mess.

-- They had umbilical cords? Don’t plants reproduce by budding? Weren’t Vash and Knives found after they dropped off and fell to the ground? IDK, plant biology is confusing to begin with and the anime certainly doesn’t help.

-- Cut to a bunch of scary looking men with laser guns. Rem throws herself between them and the babies and you see the lasers all over her torso. They could have shot her. She could have died trying to save the plant babies. Holy ****. (And she wasn’t even feeling guilty about Tessla in the anime. She was just a good person). 

-- That fucking apple. I’m sorry, but I hate this kind of symbolism. It never says much, it feels like an exercise or a treasure hunt, and it reminds me of high school English class.

Smooth transition to the other side of the tree where Rem is giving Vash a haircut. Of course Vash goes first. Rem gives Vash his iconic sticking-up haircut for the first time. 

-- Um, it’s kind of weird to give your kid the same haircut as a man you loved. (What sort of relationship did they have in the anime, anyway?) 

Also, you never noticed he was handsome before because he’s a kid. He looks like the equivalent of an 8 or 9 year old here. 

-- “He was my emotional support. Thanks to him, I was able to face my mistakes without judgment. I learned to make them right again. Then I lost him and realized I would have to do it alone. But I wasn’t afraid to make mistakes any more. I believed I could point myself in the right direction without looking back.”

I just got run over by a truck of feels. Because Vash takes the same journey. 

And I’m pretty sure Wolfwood does for Vash what Alex did for Rem. 

It all begins next episode.

-- Knives’ haircut looks curved like butterfly wings. (And he’s way better at cutting hair than a kid with no experience should be).

-- Knives’ voice sounds villainous. “Just a little change of heart, that’s all.”

-- There already was individuality, even without the haircut. I guess Knives has just accepted it. “A philosopher and a mama’s boy.” That about sums it up, unfortunately.

-- Love how Knives tells Steve off, even though he makes a supervillain face immediately after.

-- Static. There’s that sound you hear every time Legato appears. The static of evil.

-- The famous spider & butterfly scene. Vash has both hands up, probably considering removing both of spider and butterfly from the web and moving them to separate places. Not sure what he’s waiting for.

They first have the argument they keep playing out for the next 150 years.

“Unless the spider caught the butterfly, it would die of starvation anyway.” Knives is right -- about butterflies and spiders. About the natural order. (That’s one reason I, personally, have an existential crisis every time I watch a nature documentary. For some reason, there’s always organisms eating other organisms alive on those channels. ::shudders::) The best argument I can give is that the metaphor doesn’t apply to people and plants, or doesn’t have to. The only reason a situation even resembling that happens on Gunsmoke is because Knives crashes all the ships onto a planet without resources.

Rem: “it’s not right to make that choice so easily.” Honestly? I think that’s a less convincing argument. Especially to someone who’s agnostic or atheist. Because who should choose? Or are you just leaving it up to random chance?

-- “What would you rather have us do, just stand there and think about it?”

Vash attacks Knives for the first time. 

Rem finally realizes there’s something wrong. She looks troubled.

-- WTF happened to Rowan’s mind? What’s broken? Is Knives controlling his mind or body somehow?

-- Rem models self-sacrifice. I still don’t understand why, but she seemed to truly believe that Rowan, who was willing to kill a crew member he actually loved, wouldn’t do the same to her. The Captain models the sensible choice given the information he had, and throws Rowan out the airlock. Well, maybe not so sensible, because Rem could have been flung out into space to die, too.

Wonder how Rem would feel if she knew that Vash spent his life doing the same thing, getting increasingly scarred in the process?

-- “Vash, take care of Knives.” 

This breaks my heart because so far ... he hasn’t.  First he follows Knives around. Then abandons him. Then attacks him.

 Doesn’t that bother him, given how faithfully he follows Rem in everything else?

I think Rem says nothing to Knives, because she has nothing good to say to him then.

-- It still bothers me that Knives got so flat out cruel down to the maniacal laugh so quickly and offscreen. It’s still a big jump from the last time we saw him talk. Seriously, look at this:

Everything he does in the anime would have made sense if they had just added a little bit more from the manga.

-- So Knives, is Rem’s self sacrifice still stupid if she corrected the course of all the ships and saved so many lives? After all, she took action quickly, and did the greatest good for the greatest number--the rational thing. You should have understood what she was doing.

-- No, Vash, Rem didn’t mean “take care of him” as in “Kill him.” You know that.

...You know I’m getting way too invested in a series when I start talking to the characters as if they can hear me. It’s about as sensible as yelling at the horror movie character not to go into that dark room alone.

[olivia-anderson-gifted]

Chapter 1: Teaming up with a criminal she hates? A good plan, truly

Edit: Yeah, remember how I said the beginning hasn’t changed in a while?

Well... heh...

But still, enjoy this slightly less canon chapter anyways.

“No one knows the exact moment or reason why the Gifted became this way.

“Some believe it was the consistent radiation due to the nuclear war in 1948; with the chemicals floating through the air and giving a few who survived abilities to gain the upper hand. This combat led to the planet we live in today. According to elders, there used to be an abundance of resources and technology, but the wars had decimated nearly everyone who knew how even an ‘automobile’ worked and the fuel required to use them was impossible to obtain.

“Others think it was an insane mutation that occurred in our species, not unlike the anomaly that caused humans to have larger brains and become more developed than many other species of their time. This is my personal belief, because, from what I can infer out of the 100 years of suffering, Gifts seem to be somewhat passed down within families.

“Still more believe it to have been geneticists of the era splicing genes of certain species beyond recognition, and they forced the Gifted to be a reality instead of one’s nightmare. Though, this is unlikely, due to the amount of the Giftless who have given birth to a Gifted person.

“A minuscule fraction of people think humans got it by mating with animals in order to obtain those traits and therefore gain a biological advantage. Those ones are, undeniably, incorrect. I’m pretty sure the constant exposure to radiation messed with their minds.

“But what truly are Gifts? They are, to state it simply, magical abilities. Usually, they develop by age ten, but they tend to crop up around five years old — typically adding features that hadn’t been there beforehand. They currently have little to no history, but they’ve started becoming more and more varied throughout the generations (or maybe that’s just because people are more willing to have kids now)-.”

Cal Montello looked up from his book just in time to avoid getting trampled by a horse. “I thought you were paying attention for us,” he whined at his twin, but the slight smile on his face told her that he wasn’t really all that upset. He probably should have been, he had almost gotten run over, but since it hadn’t happened he didn’t care. Crisis averted, stay tuned for next time to see whether or not he got killed.

“Technically, it is your turn to pay attention,” she argued. “Besides, why are you even reading that book? The author sounds biased.”

“Well, Mrs. Plinthe happens to agree with this bias. If I’m writing two, five page essays tonight I’d better get a perfect score.” While their mentor had never been particularly lenient on them, she had amped up her teaching style the past year, and it took an undeniable toll on him: even makeup could hardly conceal the dark circles under his eyes. Alexia certainly pitied him, but she couldn’t help being grateful that she had been born twenty minutes later — she did not envy him in the slightest. She’d take not having to try over a crown any day.

“Isn’t there supposed to be a banquet tonight, though?”

“Er… probably,” he said after a few moments.

The iron gates of the castle came into view and, as if by magic, all the broken down homes and beggars seemed to disappear into neatly rolling hills, flowered gardens, and pathways lined by clean homes. People still bustled about with the same urgency, but they tended to keep their distance from everyone around them. A few chanced waves at the twins, who smiled and waved back to seem polite, but none approached them.

The pair slumped unanimously as they reached the gates. They passed through, a stiff silence between the two siblings as they sulked through the gardens, a pair of bodyguards on their heels.

Their guards left them without a word, joining the others walking along tiny footpaths into the flowers.

The royals pretended not to notice a gardener attempting to cover up what they assumed to be a plant that had died to the Frost. Most humans had expected a wasteland full of mutated creatures but instead had gotten a nuclear winter. Humans had only survived by going into hiding with a few domesticated animals.

The snow made the castle look warm and inviting. That’s what snow does, right?

Despite the exterior, the castle was gorgeous once you made it inside. Flowering plants dotted the rooms, giving much-needed splashes of color. Smiling portraits were hung in every room. Stone floors were decorated with bright mosaics. Numerous attendants could be found in any given room.

They hounded the pair the moment they recognized their faces in the door.

“Alexia, would you like us to iron your dress for you?”

“Your hair must be fixed.”

“Cal, what did the queen say about you wearing those glasses in public? And where are your contacts?”

The twins had never had a normal life, but they figured it felt something like having a hundred moms around the moment they got home… except for the fact that they only did it in order to be paid.

He held up his hands in a placating gesture. “Ah, no, thank you all, though. I would like to be alone for a minute, then I’ll work on my appearance.”

Alexia crossed her arms over her chest. “Won’t you need help getting into your outfit?”

“I want to be alone with Cheshire to recharge a bit. I will call someone when I need help… but thank you. See you later, Alex,” he chirped. He gave her one last kiss on the cheek before he disappeared down the many halls. Alexia didn’t think much of it.

Until he wasn’t at the party, that is.

Once a week the queen met with the other six rulers of the kingdoms and other powerful people throughout what had been England. It existed solely as a way to boost both her popularity and ego. The richest and most influential came, such as the Hans (well, the father did, everyone else was almost always sick), that one princess that for some reason wouldn’t leave the twins alone, the entirety of Gardenia’s royal family, and many more people Alexia struggled to really care about.

Cal and Alexia had to go every time no matter what; Alexia knew something was amiss when Cal didn’t show. The queen made up an excuse about how Cal had gotten sick and ended up being unable to come to the banquet. Alexia gave a smile, nodding her agreement wordlessly.

She mumbled that she wanted to be excused as soon as she deemed it acceptable. When questioned on it, she said that she wanted to make sure Cal was okay, which really wasn’t a lie. She got a few coos about how good of a sister she was, then left.

She broke into a sprint once she had gotten out of earshot of the guests.

The room looked as if it had been hit by a hurricane — the sheets strewn across the floor, the drawers forced open in a rush, books and papers littered the floor, the list containing their secret codes in tatters on the ground, their food stash had been depleted and so had a large portion of their money. It looked as if Cal had run away.

Alexia knew better. Sure, Cal had voiced his distaste of the castle many times before, the fact that he hated being there enough to leave was pretty much common knowledge. However, if he was ever to leave he would have certainly asked her to go with him, or at least warned her of his departure. No, he’d been forced out, and rather suddenly.

Alexia looked at her suitcase and began packing the essentials: clothes, food, books, maps, clothes, sheets so she wouldn’t have to lay on the ground, weapons, money, clothes… the list went on and on until she had filled seven bags. The essentials were getting less and less essential, she noted, and put down the tiara that she had considered taking in order to look cute. She looked through her bags and removed a bit, but honestly couldn’t part with much.

Who should I take with me? Obviously not the castle staff, I can’t tear them away from their occupations, and the other royals couldn’t care less. I’m not getting someone else injured because I mess up, she mused. So, who could hypothetically get injured without impacting Mandalo? Maybe… She made a decision and walked to the stables. She freed her prized horse, a strong black one named Blackjack, and loaded her up with all of her belongings.

She clambered onto Blackjack’s back and set off to the other side of the city where the slums were located, pulling her hood over her head so fewer people would recognize her. The princess had hidden her bags under a blanket so she didn’t look too wealthy, though she did feel people staring at her as she made her way to the thief’s house.

Not everyone owns a horse, Alexia, might as well have worn a giant sign saying ‘rich person’ on your back.

She rapped on the door twice and waited. The house was not at all what she expected of the thief: small, dingy, one of the windows broken, in general disrepair. The twins gave him far too much money for what he did, so she couldn’t figure out why he couldn’t afford a better house than the decaying one-roomer.

Alexia regretted her decision the moment she spotted Nathan Green’s face in the doorframe. The male was unhealthily skinny, with matted hair pulled back into a messy ponytail. Yellow freckles were dull under a thin layer of grime. His eyes narrowed ever so slightly as he gave her a once over. Both twins had long since used to this, the general Which one is this routine. She could have lifted her bangs to give him an easier time, but she didn’t. Once he came to a decision he motioned for her to get on with it.

“Hello, Nathaniel,” said Alexia, toying with her fingers.

“Evenin’, princesa. Why are you here?” He asked. If there was anything to like about the criminal, it was that he always got to the point.

“Your ‘occupation’ is finding things us royals lost, is it not?”

“Sometimes…” Nathan said carefully.

Alexia straightened to her full height. He wasn’t impressed. “I lost Cal, help me find him,” she ordered.

“No,” he said, moving to close the door. Alexia put her foot out to stop him. He seemed to consider breaking her foot with the door for a minute.

“What do you mean ‘no’?” She whined, more than aware that she sounded like a four-year-old who wasn’t allowed a new toy.

“I mean ‘no’. I could say it in Spanish if you’d like.” He moved to close the door once again, almost crushing Alexia’s foot in the process.

“I’ll pay you, of course,” Alexia said quickly, wishing she had started with that. The male paused for a moment and she flexed her foot a few times to make sure it was okay. “One hundred lous if you come with me,” she added before he lost interest.

He opened the door fully, leaning against the frame.

“Listen, it’s not that I don’ like you… actually that’s exactly it, you suck. I have things to do other than help you, princesa.”

She couldn’t miss the greedy look in his eye, though.

“I’ll give you an extra fifty lous if we do find them. You have a baseline of one hundred even if we fail,” she offered, and she could immediately tell that he was sold. Nonetheless, he pretended to mull it over.

Really, just say yes. We’re losing valuable time.

“I guess I could help you find them, it’s only a month or so anyways if we can get this done quickly,” he said after a while, cracking a devilish grin that almost made Alexia nervous. “I’m finally growin’ on you, then? Took, what, thirteen years?” He teased, before disappearing into his home. Only a few seconds passed before the thief popped out with only a small bag slung over his shoulder.

“You don’t want to bathe before we go? Whatever, I suppose, let’s get started. If we leave now we might be able to catch up to him. He’s going on foot,” she said.

“Do I get un caballo?” Alexia stared at him until he started motioning to the horse.

Nathan and his family were from Spain, so she wasn’t surprised that he wasn’t aware of certain terms. What did she do with this knowledge? Attempt to trick him, of course.

“You mean a ‘school’,” she lied. The male looked offended.

“Honestly, how dumb do you think I am?” he whined with a defeated expression, as if he already regretted agreeing to help Alexia. She chose not to answer his question and he pretended not to notice. 

A true friendship.

So, they went to the royal stables and Nathan tried to pick a horse. The horses all whinnied as if in protest as he neared them. Smart animals.

“Honestly, which one of them am I supposed to choose? They’re all so creepy and…” He trailed off. “Caballos,” he whispered disdainfully, before choosing the one that seemed least likely to murder him. It obviously wanted to, but he stuck to his decision anyways. “AYYYYYY- c’mon, Lance, I just want to live-” he stopped speaking as he was distracted — he had fallen over Lance’s head and laid in a pile of hay dejectedly.

“Horses can sense fear,” Alexia said ‘helpfully’ as she watched him climb on again.

“So, it’s called a horse.” He pumped his hand in the air victoriously before almost sliding off the tail-end of his steed.

Getting outside ended up being relatively easy. No one came up and bothered them for fear of upsetting the princess, the guards pretended they didn’t see her sneaking out, and Nathan managed not to magically die.

This good mood did not last.

While it was clear there used to be a forest outside, little had actually survived. The only living plants were pioneer species attempting to break through the snow. There wasn’t an animal in sight, it wasn’t obvious any had ever existed.

Sure, she’d been outside before, but only in a carriage, and she tended to sleep during trips. To actually see the world was horrifying.

Alexia pulled her map from her many, many bags. “There’s a part where the path forks up ahead. One leads to Gardenia and then the other kingdoms, the other leads to the Giftless Camp. Which one do you want to try first?” She questioned. Though she had asked, she didn’t want to head off to where the Giftless were; it was criminal territory, and traveling with one of them was more than enough for her.

Nathan idly twirled his knife through his fingers, which she figured would end up with a few missing. “Cal probably went towards the place with all of the Lames,” he said.

“Giftless,” she corrected. The Giftless were exactly what they sounded like, people without any form of ‘magical’ ability, though there were so few of them that they had been renamed ‘Lames’ by the general population. Discrimination against disadvantaged minorities? That’s basically unheard of! Nonetheless, they were to be taken to a labor camp once they reached eleven years of age. Most people avoided the topic like the plague.

“Are you going to explain your reasoning, Einstein?” She muttered sarcastically after a few moments.

He sighed so loudly he must have broken a rib.

“Obviously there would be fewer people in that direction. Whatever he was runnin’ from was clearly terrifyin’, he would go where it would be harder for them to find him,” he explained slowly, as if explaining two plus two. It annoyed Alexia that he made sense.

“Whatever, I suppose we should find a place to sleep before it gets too dark,” she mumbled, holding out a hand and concentrating for a short moment. The light around them gathered into a ball in her fingers, but even that was faint with so little to work with. She figured they had about an hour before even her Gift would be useless. She found herself actually glad for the lack of trees, as they would have run out of light long beforehand. “Maybe they’re at an inn or something,” she tried, though she doubted it.

She wondered if she would be able to find him if he didn’t wish to be found. He’s been gone for less than a day, don’t give up yet, Alexia scolded herself mentally, looking around. Nothing but dead shrubbery as far as the eye could see, certainly not any buildings.

“A place to stay out here? We’ll take shifts. Go ahead and sleep.”

The princess wanted to argue, but she couldn’t deny that sleep sounded really good. She pulled a pillow and blanket from one of her bags and promptly passed out.

[jedifighterpilot2727]

The Rook

After Lex reveals Kara's secret identity, Lena thinks she's fine - until she's not. The one person she trusted implicitly has betrayed her trust, and she doesn't know if she'll ever be able to believe in people again.

It's a tough lesson, but some things you just can't live without.

AKA - the angsty post S4 fic where Lena experiences heartbreak and anger as well as discovers the meaning of true love.

"I don't want to kill Supergirl, I just want her to experience the same hurt she inflicted on me."

*Hides behind rock* I know, it's been like 5 months, and I'm sorry! The book is still chugging along, but after seeing the SG trailer at SDCC I had to write something! Cue angst, heartbreak and devastating loss (with a happy ending of course!) Buckle in y'all, it's gonna get worse before it gets better!

Oh! and every chapter has a song to fit the mood! First up is "Nothing Breaks Like a Heart" by Mark Ronson and Miley Cyrus.

Nothing Breaks Like a Heart

Numb.

Lena’s not exactly sure how else to describe it.

The feeling in her chest that spreads out to her finger tips, the heavy, sinking feeling that makes her feel like she drowning.

She not unfamiliar with the feeling.

Quite the opposite, actually.

She’s spent the majority of her life near suffocation from the choking feelings of inadequacy and betrayal.

Practically from the start of her time with the Luthors, she’d been judged and ridiculed and left on the outskirts.

Maybe not overtly, but certainly purposefully.

She knows without a doubt that Lilian orchestrated most of her young life in order to maximize feelings of ‘less than’.

Whatever she had done to gain the Luthor Matron’s ire had occurred long before she set foot in the Luthor Mansion.

Regardless, of the reason, she dealt with the consequences for years - long days at various different lessons, Irish boarding school, hard pressure to get early acceptance into MIT. Even once she had graduated and was doing ground breaking experimental work with Jack, Lilian’s glare was a constant presence over her shoulder.

It became even worse once she took over L Corp - doubly so. Nothing she ever did lived up to Lex’s legend, and she certainly never bowed to the Luthor agenda.

She had finally caved to Lilian’s pressure, hoping to do something to gain her mother’s approval -  an alien detection device, one that would allow regular citizens to tell if the people they were interacting with aliens disguised as humans.

She was so confident that the device would win over Lilian’s good will, that she would finally live up to the Luthor name, (without being a murdering psychopath).

But then, something had happened, something that had made her realize that maybe she didn’t need to toe the line of xenophobia to gain the approval she was seeking.

Her entire world had turned upside down the day that Kara Danvers had walked in her office, offering a kind rebuke at the alien detection device.

Suddenly, her entire world had shifted.

Her desire for Lilian’s approval wasn’t gone, but now it paled in comparison to the need for Kara’s. (Maybe that was a stupid reason to nix a million dollar project and piss off investors, but it sounds better that saying a pretty girl made her do it.)

And unlike Lilian’s approval, Kara’s was easily given.

Nearly anything she did was met with unwavering approval, and unfaltering enthusiasm.

It was like crack, honestly, having someone who supported her and believed in her like Kara. Every time something came up that she thought would finally shake Kara’s trust, it backfired in the exact opposite direction.

Evidence shows that she’s stealing Kryptonite?

Kara stands up for her.

Evidence shows that she’s poisoning little kids?

Kara stands up for her.

Even when she hides Sam’s condition from Kara’s . . . friend, Supergirl -

Kara stands up for her.

It’s intoxicating, and it has nothing to do with Kara’s perfect hair and beautiful smile.

it has nothing to do with how Kara brings her donuts during Lilian’s trial.

It has nothing to do with how she always smiles at Lena, even in the face of Supergirl’s disapproving pout.

And it definitely has nothing to do with the way Kara smells when she wraps an arm around Lena and solemnly promises to always be there for her.

It’s just nice, to be supported and believed in for once in her life.

It’s even more nice to have a self-proclaimed best friend that stands by her no matter what

(It does help that Lena has a huge, gigantic, undeniable crush on said best friend.)

But it’s not like she can say anything.

There’s no way that sweet, charming, beautiful, sometimes trips over her own words Kara would ever feel the same way about Lena.

It’s a statistical improbability,

Which is exactly why Lena suffers through lunches and game nights and a few too close to be just friendly hugs.

Kara’s friendship is enough, she shouldn’t want more. Kara is already so much better than anything she ever dreamed of having, she isn’t going to risk what they have by confessing something as inconvenient as feelings.

So she shoves her feelings away in a little box, and refuses to acknowledge them. Just like she refuses to acknowledge that her best friend looks a lot like the girl of steel.

She over compensates, almost to the point of hilarity; pushing Kara behind her in dangerous situations, insisting on being mad at her alter ego while still cozying up to her favorite reporter.

It’s stupid, but it somehow works in her brain. Allows her to ignore the fact that her best friend in the entire universe is also maybe, sort of, definitely Supergirl.

(It also allows her to ignore that Kara hasn’t told her said fact.)

It hurts, in a weird way, knowing that Kara is keeping something so important from her. But just like the facts, she puts that in a little box and ignores it too.

At least, until it all comes crashing down.

Lex, the goddamn bastard, couldn’t be good for anything, not even in death.

And if Lena feels like shit for thinking such a thing, she feels even worse knowing that what he’s telling her is true.

All of her little boxes come flying open, and they refuse to be closed again, no matter how hard she tries.

Kara’s identity, all the feelings of inadequacy and rejection, her burning desire for belonging and family - all of it comes rushing to the surface.

She tries to fight it, she does, but it feels unavoidable as it all comes crashing down around her.

Kara, her best friend, is Supergirl.

She was blind not to see it before, really.

She blames it on the little boxes.

Now though, she can’t deny it.

Kara is Supergirl.

And it hurts, somewhere deep in her chest.

Some part of her recognizes it as those feelings of inadequacy and unbelonging that belong to Lilian. Only now it’s her best friend making her feel that way. The person that promised to always be in her corner and have her back.

It’s almost debilitating.

She tries so hard to shove that in a little box too, but it doesn’t work. If anything, it backfires.

 ”You're with me, right?” Kara asks her on game night, and Lena stamps a foot down on the little box threatening to fly open - bile biting at the back of her throat.

“Always.”

* - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

It all comes crashing down a week later when Kara finally confronts her.

“Lena?” Kara asks, and Lena freezes, sensing the trepidation in her voice.

“No, you don’t have anything in your teeth.” She teases, trying to belay the way her heart rate doubles.

“No, I know, I just . . . “

“What?” Lena asks, voice calm but her heart racing.

“i just . . . I’ve been meaning to tell you, but I never really had the chance. Well, I mean I did, but Alex said . . . What I’m trying to say is -“

“Don’t.” Lena tells her, surprised at the firmness in her voice.

“Lena, I have to . . .”

Their eyes lock, and Lena shivers. So much for little boxes.

“I’m . . .” Kara reaches for her glasses.

“Kara . . .”

“I’m Supergirl.” Kara finishes weakly, her hands trembling as they lower her glasses to her side.

“Kara.” she chokes out. “Don’t.”

“Lena - “ Kara starts to explain, but Lena ignores her.

Kara looks so incredibly sad, eyes welling up with tears and the muscles in her neck trembling.

“I know. I know all about your little secret.” Lena swallows hard, fighting back the tears. “You know why? Because Lex told me. I didn’t get to find out from you, or Alex; no, I got to find out from my homicidal brother. I suppose I was stupid for not seeing it before - naive to think that the most important person in my life wouldn’t hide something like that from me. I guess I was wrong, I’m just a fool.” She bites out the words, putting as much of her frustration into them as she can.

She may not be able to hurt Kara physically, but emotionally?

After a lifetime of living with Lilian?

That she can do.

“Lena, I didn’t do it to hurt you -“

“Really?” Lena scoffs, choking back tears. “Then why do I feel like you’ve taken a knife and stabbed it into my heart?”

Kara’s eyes look so full of remorse that Lena almost caves.

“I never meant to hurt you, that’s the last thing I wanted to do.”

“Oh, then what was your master plan? I’d love to hear it.”

“Lena . . .” Kara’s upper lip trembles.

“Literally everyone around you knew, except me.” Lena goads. “What exactly was your point? Other than to prove just how untrustworthy Luthors are?”

“No! I would never! Lena, I trust you more than anyone; maybe even more than Alex, that’s why I had to -“

“That’s why you had to lie to me?” Lena interjects, unwilling to let Kara finish her sentence.

“I didn’t want to lie to you!”

“Then why did you?!”

They stare at each other - an unstoppable force and an immovable object - the tension nearly crackling the air between them.  

Finally, the unstoppable force causes the object to move, and Kara speaks.

“Because when I first met you . . . you were . . . are the most beautiful woman I’d ever met.”

Lena’s heart jumps in her throat at Kara’s words, because surely she doesn’t mean them like that.

And I didn’t know if it was clouding my judgment, because Clark was so sure that you were just like your brother. But I refused to judge you on your family, and the next thing I knew, you were my best friend.” Her voice chokes off, and Lena forces herself to look away.

“You are my best friend,” Kara corrects herself. “And I didn’t want to screw it up. No one’s ever wanted to be my best friend before - besides Alex, I guess, and in the beginning that was only because she had to. But you,” she laughs softly. “you were so fiercely in my corner, about everything; being a reporter, CatCo, Mon-el being a jerk . . . I’ve never had anyone stand up for me like that. And I wanted to be the same for you, because you deserve it. “

“If I deserve you standing up for me, then why couldn’t you just tell me who you really are?”

“Because - “ Kara huffs. “Because, okay, maybe for the first few weeks I was worried that you might turn on me because of your brother. But then I . . . I was selfish. Because you were the only person that I could be 'just Kara' around. I didn’t have to worry about being Supergirl. And then, the longer it went on, I knew that I should tell you, I knew you would be so upset when you found out and I couldn’t stand to hurt you like that. . . . I was afraid that you’d never forgive me.”

“Why do you even care? I’m just a Luthor, right.”

She’s prodding Kara to a more direct answer, she knows it, but she never expects what comes out of the other woman’s mouth.

“Because I love you, okay?” Kara’s eyes fill with tears as Lena’s heart jumps in her throat.

"And maybe there was some part of me that hoped that I could keep bringing you lunch and you’d keep sending me flowers and maybe I could pretend that you love me too. And I’m sorry that I hurt you, and that you found out the way you did; just know that I would take it all back if I could. I would tell you myself, even if it meant you would hate me.”

“Kara . . . “ she knows deep down that she can never hate Kara, no matter how much she wants to. “You don’t get to say that you love me just to get me to stop being mad at you.”

“I’m not.” Kara vows fiercely. “But if we’re laying all our cards out on the table, I thought that you should know. I love your passion, I love your fire. I love the fact that you always stand up for what you think is right - even if it differs from what I think. I love that you throw yourself into your work, and I hate the fact that you forget to eat. I love that you pour your heart and soul into the children’s hospital and that you refuse to let anything stop that. I love how snuggly you get after a couple of glasses of wine, but I hate how self deprecating you get. I just want you to see you the way that I see you, and I was afraid that you knowing I’m Supergirl would hurt that. I guess I hoped that deep down, you loved me too. And I don’t know what my game plan was for that, or where I hoped we would end up -“

“Kara!” Lena chokes it out, barely able to keep the tears from falling down her cheeks.

“Lena, I just -“

“Don’t.” She says for the third time that night, desperate to stop the words coming from Kara’s mouth.

“I had to let you know how I felt, I know it’s bad timing, but I had to tell you the truth. I didn’t want it to be like this.”

Tears track down Kara’s face, but still, Lena stays strong, brushing past her and heading for the exit.

“Lena -“

It takes everything Lena has to ignore her, and move to the door.

* - - - - - - - -

Ever since Lex told her about Kara’s identity, she’s been in a fog.

She thought that it would get better once she had a chance to confront Kara.

What she didn’t expect was Kara’s . . . confession. It throws her for a loop, one she hadn’t seen coming in a million years. It should have made her ecstatic, it would have made her ecstatic in any other circumstance, but now it just leaves a sour taste in her mouth.

Of course Kara would pick the middle of her Supergirl reveal to spill out her heart, of course.

It fits so well with the Kara she knows and loves. That she would be so open and vulnerable that she would decide to lay her whole heart on the line.

Lena loves it, but she hates it.

Every part of her is screaming that Kara is just manipulating her, the same way she’s been manipulated for her entire life - bribed with love and affection.

She refuses to fall into the old trap again.

She is a strong independent woman, and she doesn’t need someone else to complete her.

And it’s true, she knows it’s true.

She doesn’t need anyone.

But it doesn’t help that she wants Kara.

She ignores every text, every call; she even tells Jess to revoke Kara’s unlimited access to her office (and she’s met with a giant frown and a questioning glare that she knows she’s going to have to answer to later).

But still, when her stomach growls sometime after one, she wishes that Kara’s smiling face was bopping through her door, waving a sack of takeout.

Even minus the lunches, she misses Kara.

Which is why she finds herself stretching and heading to her office door - maybe she can ask Jess to order food and convince her that it wouldn’t be weird to eat lunch with her boss.

Only when she asks Jess to order out, the other woman looks at her . . . strangely.

“What?”

“I uh, already ate.” Jess says almost guiltily.

“Oh. Did you happen to order anything for me?” Lena tries to sound as nonchalant as possible, but it still comes out almost whiney. Before Kara, Jess always made sure to order lunch for Lena, even if she knew she wouldn’t eat it.

“Uhh, I uhh, didn’t order out.”  Jess’ eyes flicker to the mini fridge under her desk.

“Oh, ok.” Lena lets it drop, obviously Jess doesn't it want to talk about it.

Maybe she has a new crush that brought her lunch and she isn’t ready to talk about it. Filing the information away for later, she shrugs.

“Could I get you to order me something then? Maybe an apple walnut salad from Noonan’s? I’ve been craving one lately.”

Jess’ eyes go back to the mini fridge, and Lena leans over the desk to stare at it as well.

“Is there something in there I should know about?” She asks, her mind immediately going to a bomb; and it’s so twisted that a bomb is the first thing she thinks of being stored in a mini fridge of all places, but it’s not the oddest -

“Kara!” Jess blurts, and Lena shifts her gaze back to her assistant.

“Kara’s in the mini fridge?”

“No.” Jess sighs. “Kara brought you lunch, and it’s in there. I know you said specifically that you didn’t want to see her or hear from her, so I didn’t want to tell you about it, but she insisted that I take it, and you know how persistent she can be!”

“So when you said you already ate . . .”

“She brought me broccoli cheddar soup, and you know that’s my favorite and I should have just ordered out but -“

“Jess - “ Lena placates her with a warm smile that’s only half forced. “Just because I’m not speaking to Kara doesn’t mean you can’t. Besides, it was broccoli cheddar soup.”

“Your lunch is still in there if you want it?” Jess offers, gesturing to the mini fridge.

“Oh, I’m not really that hungry, I forgot I had a big breakfast.” It’s a lie, she hasn’t eaten since lunch the day before; and her stomach quickly betrays her with loud growl.

Jess raises her eyebrows pointedly before reaching to the fridge and taking out a container and passing it to Lena.

It’s an apple walnut salad from Noonan’s, with a folded note taped to the front.

Of course.

“Really, I’ll just wait til dinner. . .” Lena protests weakly, her stomach fighting hard against her stubborn will.

“If she asks, I’ll tell her I threw it in the garbage and you never even saw it.”

Lena narrows her eyes.

“Fine, I’ll eat it, but if she asks, tell her you gave it to me and I threw it in the garbage.”

“Whatever you say, boss, whatever you say."

[rebellect-writes]

[SIZE=1][b]Name:[/b] Jess [b]Age:[/b] My you’re a nosey lot. [b]How did you find us?:[/b] Shhhhh!

[b]Name:[/b] Micah William O'Connor. [b]Nicknames:[/b][LIST] [*] Mickey [*] O’Conner [*] Mick. [*] Oddball. [/LIST][b]Age:[/b] 33 [b]Date of Birth:[/b] 24th of August 1979. [b]Gender:[/b] Male. [b]Sexual Orientation:[/b] Bisexual. [b]Occupation:[/b] Private Investigator.

[b]Animal:[/b] White tiger (Siberian!) [b]Animal Description: [/b] [IMG]http://i672.photobucket.com/albums/vv90/bloodwillout/app%20pics/tumblr_lzuuzpkdCZ1qls45bo1_500.jpg[/IMG][LIST]Micah is a big cat and comes in at a whopping 475 lbs in weight, and most of that is nearly streamlined muscle. While he may not be the biggest cat around, he has come across bigger, he’d pretty intimidating and given the fact that he’s 10 feet and 8.3 inches tall from nose to tail tip doesn’t make it any easier to become inconspicuous. Did I mention the stunning, thick, pure white coat with black stripes? Micah doesn’t have a cat in hell’s chance of blending in much unless he’s taking a romp in the snow but you can't deny that he's very regal looking in this form. [/LIST][b]Do you have a hybrid/Alpha form?:[/b] [IMG]http://themikal.files.wordpress.com/2009/02/weretiger.jpg[/IMG] (minus the frills of course>.>)[LIST]Yes, Micah does have a hybrid form that’s deadly when it comes to a fight. The kicker is, he hasn’t used this form in over five years and won’t unless forced into it, and if he was, I’m sure he’d welcome it albeit a bit reluctantly at first. In this form, he’s hitting 580lbs of muscle and stands at a large 6'5 feet. He doesn’t appear to have much in the way of human features in this form, a muzzle packed full of fangs, paws for hands and feet with retracting claws, a hide of white and black fur that thins out over his stomach, and of course, the tail to help him keep balance. [/LIST][b]Rank:[/b] Willing to join, but a rogue for now. [b]How long have you been a lycanthrope?:[/b] All his life. [b]Mindset:[/b] Dominant. [b]Power level:[/b] Alpha.

[b]Face Claim:[/b] Alex O’Loughlin [b]Description:[/b] [IMG]http://i672.photobucket.com/albums/vv90/bloodwillout/app%20pics/alex-oloughlin3.png[/IMG][LIST][i]Height:[/i]  6'2 [i]Weight:[/i] 196lbs [i]Eyes:[/i] Tiger blue; he wears brown contacts to appear more human. [i]Hair:[/i] Ruffled brown. When the sun hits it, he’s got gold tints. [i]Build:[/i] Toned, average. [i]Visible marks:[/i] Oh yes, he’s got a few visible marks but there’s only a few that really stand out. The self designed Celtic knot tattoo on his shoulder was done a long time ago by his sister with a silver needle. He’s also got claw marks from a dominance fight at the small of his back. [i]Style:[/i] Micah’s pretty laid back when it comes to his style of dress actually. He favours long armed shirts and t-shirts, but that doesn’t mean he won’t step out in any short armed shirts, or topless for that matter. As a shifter, he’s comfortable out of clothes as well as in them. Trousers are normally jeans, slacks or combat pants, something he could get dirty if the need called for it. And who doesn’t like a pair of sturdy boots that are good for any occasion? He almost always wears a duster coat and a pair of sunglasses when out in the sun, and as for jewellery, he’s got a ring on a gold chain that he wears sometimes around his neck. [i]Weapons:[/i] Yes, he’s got a gun but he doesn’t take it out of the lock box unless he’s working a job and yes he does have a permit! It’s a SIG P229 with custom silver hollow points. [/LIST][b]Special Skills:[/b][LIST] [*] As a former cop, he knows his way around the system for the most part. [*] He has basic firearms training and does carry concealed. [*] Trained from early on to take females animals into himself. [/LIST][b]Personality:[/b][LIST]As a born white tiger, Micah had it drummed into his head from an early age that he was better than other lycanthropes. That he was somehow purer then them, and yes, that included other strands of the tiger virus. As he was only young, he believed this, just like his parents did and his sisters but as he grew older Micah’s started to believe that he’s not better than other people and if he voiced that opinion around others, I’m sure he’d get a few odd looks for it, more so from other types of tigers. He may have been proud of that mentality as a cub, but he defiantly isn’t now.

Aside from that he’s an ok kind of guy, he can come off a bit secretive and quiet but that’s only because he’s trying to get a read on the people around him. If he’s not being quiet, he’s defiantly a charmer that likes to make people smile, in fact, it kind of makes his day to see people smile a little as it proves that the world isn’t such a total waste of time for any of them. A sweet talker and a bit playful as he may be, but he also knows when to shut his mouth and just listen to people before offering advice that he thinks best even if he knows that other people will not accept it. With this little flaw, he can also come off a little callous and mean hearted, maybe even a little blunt, but he really doesn’t mean it and doesn’t go out of his way to make enemies, he just likes to give people the facts.

Now he doesn’t trust people at his back, but he’ll grudgingly accept it if he has to as long as the other party prove that they aren’t about to put a knife between his shoulders. It’s the same when he opens up to his emotions, Micah’s known love an had it ripped away from him, he’s not about to suffer for a second time unless he’s sure that it’s worth it in the long run. If you know him, then you’ll know that he’d walk through the fires of hell to help you because it’s the type of loyal and protective guy that he is. Oh he may be a bit growly and a bit bossy at times, but he does mean well and his heart is in the right place even with all his issues.

So, we’ve got a dominant weretiger with personal issues and a multitude of other issues do we? Well that’s not surprising. Micah won’t put up with people trying to take away his right of choice or back him into a corner, it tends to make the nice male snarl and show his fangs. You play him for a fool and expect him to come after you, because you can only poke a tiger so many times before he snarls and makes you his meal. Men that abuse women and children, well, expect a call from him sometime soon. There are just some things that aren’t done and that’s one of them.

Does this mean that he’s always pissy and grumpy when confronted with a vampire that can call tigers or a Chang? No! He’ll go out of his way to prove that he isn’t going to cause any trouble as long as they don’t interfere with his life. He doesn’t mind helping, as long as a little is given in return. Unfortunately in the line of work that he’s in, it very rarely happens but one can hope right? [/LIST][b]Likes:[/b][LIST] [*] Mucking around in a garden. He had to give his up on the relocation. [*] Drinking contests! The human's almost always lose. [*] Roaming in both forms. A little exploration never kills anyone. [*] A clean apartment! He can't stand mess. [*] Working alone. He likes to think that’s what he does best. [*] Reading if he isn’t working. [*] Cooking and making sure he eats healthy. [*] Swimming. Why yes, that does include skinny dipping. [*] Sitting in on the occasional mass on a Sunday. [*] Keeping on top of any paperwork that comes his way. [/LIST][b]Dislikes:[/b][LIST] [*] Having his history dragged up when it shouldn't be. [*] Having to run after suspects. [*] Being arrested for misunderstandings. [*] Looking for lost pets. He’s tempted to send them to the pound anyway. [*] People that try to get one up on him. What’s the flipping point? [*] Giving blood to various things. Vampires, blood bank, you name it. [*] Using his gun. [*] Giving people his back that he doesn’t trust. [*] Forgetting to put the trash out. [*] Being backed into a corner. [/LIST][b]Strengths:[/b][LIST] [*] Normal shape shifter attributes. [*] Half form. [*] Doesn't take bullshit from other people. [*] Knows when to shut his mouth. Just. [*] Can look a vampire in the eye only very briefly. [/LIST][b]Weaknesses:[/b][LIST] [*] Point blank refuses to take a female tiger's animal into him. [*] Does try and play by other peoples rules. [*] Can’t resist a Master vampire’s command, or a Chang's distress call. [*] His sisters, Shannon (22) and Kelley (19). [*] Scared of fire. [/LIST][b]History:[/b][LIST]Ireland. The home too many things from humans and lycanthropes, all the way to giants and fairies and all other manner of mystical creatures. Ok, not so much, giants and fairies but the lycanthrope part is more than true. Micah O’Connor was born in August 1979, to the small hidden White clan that called North Belfast home. It was a big thing really in its own right, him being the first born male to John and Marion O’Connor after nearly several years of trying for an heir. It had taken so long because John couldn’t quite grasp the trick of taking his mates beast into himself on the full moon and with the arrival of Micah, came new possibilities for the family, and the clan on a whole. Now you’d have thought that he’d grow up as any normal child, go to school and make friends but he didn’t. His parents paid to have him home schooled by one of the clan teachers, it was great! He felt special, that was until he started to really listen to what was being said.  He was taught that he wouldn’t be able to shift into his tiger from until puberty which wasn’t so bad, but he was also taught that he was better than everyone else because he was pure, born of the White Clan. The impressionable young Irish lad stood no chance against that mental abuse – it wasn’t seen as abuse by anyone, more traditional teachings passed down for generations – and swiftly became a full-fledged cub in the clan.

So he thought he was better than everyone else, it still didn’t stop that troublesome thing called childhood. Micah got into scraps like any other brat his age, and spent a lot of time alone in his room sulking as his parents tried to smooth over other weretiger’s anger. One memorable fight was a former friend that had gotten his animal first, kids being kids, they searched out for the weakest link in their little community, and that unfortunately was Micah even if he was oddly popular. This kid that held a grudge, came after him as a feral tiger that wanted blood, Micah panicked and ran knowing that he couldn’t fight a cat. Playing with his parents when they were in cat form was one thing as they didn’t try to eat him or his baby sister Shannon, but this cat meant business.

Now he was only thirteen at the time, but Micah remembers it well. He didn’t make it to his parents; the cat brought him down from behind and started to claw into him. Friends of his parents came running, including Daniel’s own parents. The new shifter was hauled away but the damage was already done, and as Micah passed out from pain and blood loss, his parents arrived on the scene. When he woke up, he was curled up with his parents and blissfully numb. They’d gone out and got a doctor to take a look at him, another tiger of course, and they’d found out that Micah was more responsive and healing faster. It meant his first shift was due! It was hell on earth when it came. Despite being born with the ability, and knowing in theory what was going to happen, in his state, Micah wasn’t ready for when the change decided to take hold of him. Luckily his parents helped him out as much as they could, and that helped things along. What was even better was that his parents were trying for another kid. They already had Micah, and he looked after Shannon, but they were getting on in age and didn’t want to be running around after pesky tiger cubs for the rest of their life. That was now, unofficially Micah’s job.

It was still his job when they moved across the world, which to him was totally shocking. They relocated to Australia for various reasons after Micah had settled into his tiger form a year later at age fourteen. The main one being that with Micah's transition, the chance that a 'Little Queen' of Ireland calling him when he grew older was more prominent than ever as the Chang had yet another child. Micah's father had been called, even bound by wedlock, and had enraged the Chang of that time, so his parents weren't going to risk anything. They settled in Perth with his mother’s side of the family, and while it was quiet, and Micah full heartedly agreed with his father that it was boring, he couldn’t go against his mothers need to be near kin. They weren’t people that he knew though, and Micah withdrew from the other tigers. Oh yeah, he showed up at the meetings and hunts, the family picnics and the like, but he never made an effort to fit in. The others ate his sisters up, Shannon and wee Kelley, when she came along, lapped up the attention like milk but he didn’t. Cousins were sent on their way, uncles and aunts got a hug and a kiss on the cheek when they tried to get him to be like the other children, and even his parents found themselves on the receiving end of his anger and annoyance. Micah didn’t want to live in Australia, he wanted to go back home to dreary old Ireland.

The whole teenager angst died out though over the next few years and Micah tried to mend some bridges with the tigers in his life, while trying to maintain a life in the world of the humans. He found a few friends in the local streak, a great couple of humans as friends too. Things were great! He’d forget that he’d been a complete prick when they’d first moved, and during the summer after his seventeenth birthday, he met Sophie, another relocated were-tigeress from America of all places. There was a little awkwardness at first of course; the fact that she put him on his backside within four hours of meeting him and had slapped him for saying that she was cute, not withstanding, things did settle down after that and after a few weeks of him being a goof and trying to make her feel welcome. He did know how she was feeling of course, they became friends. He didn’t think that she’d be in the same class with him when he got back to school the following term. Every class, to be exact, every day of the week. It was, well, it wasn’t hell, but he certainly became more of a goof than normal and kitten love was in the air.

By the time he was twenty, he had a steady relationship with Soph. He ran with her on the full moon, they ...well; you get the picture there, all the while they were both learning what life would have in store for them in the Clan as their next step into becoming a full-grown weretiger neared. It was like everything was going right with his life, Ireland was a memory, his sisters and family were happy, he had an idea of what he wanted to do with his future, and Sophie became the only one for him. Even when he came into his powers, he’d been told that the White Clan’s element was metal, so he didn’t know what to expect from that, certainly didn’t expect his father coming to him one evening and telling him that they’d start up the old lessons again. He hadn’t had those since Ireland! And even then, he’d not had that good of a grip on the idea of taking someone else’s animal into himself. Micah didn’t think that his father approved of him and Sophie dating steadily, but since they hadn’t been stupid to take a risk that would’ve lead to pregnancy, no one had really objected.

Somewhere along the line of high school, and well into college, he’d began to think that he was no better than the humans around him. It wasn’t until he was hitting twenty five, married to Sophie and had the prospect of a child looming over his head, along with his career in law enforcement, that Micah realized that there’d been a change in his life. Sophie didn’t seem to get on with other tigers, so his only reasoning pointed to his wife. If she hadn’t come along; maybe he’d have grown into a self righteous prick that deemed himself higher than everything else because tradition dictated that that was the way to be.

Well, either way, the happiness and wonder in his life didn’t last that long. As a year later, a rouge group, mongrels that thought they could go against tradition of all the Clans and infect people willy nilly and kill anything that got in their way led by a Master Vampire with an affinity to their kind, had somehow managed to survive the two days travel from Melbourne with Kiss and RPIT on their tails. They rolled into Perth, the Master leading them taking an offence that the resident Streak had too many unmated females and an apparent weak Chang. The men wanted nothing more to rip the small band apart, but the Chang forbade them from doing any such thing as she tried to buy time for those tracking the rouges. It failed, as the Master set his band on the Clan. Sophie wasn’t supposed to get caught in the cross fire, it was Micah that was to lose his throat since he went straight for the Master vampire, but by the end of the night, his wife’s body was in his lap, tears streaming down his eyes. Oh, the Master vampire had been killed, torn to pieces, the rouges subdued, but it shouldn’t have happened.

Micah’s life went south fast after that; he handed in his badge, sold the house and moved into a small apartment across the other side of Australia, and also cut all but close ties to himself. He hit the bottle hard, trying to find a release of some kind from the pain he was feeling. It was a friend that kicked his ass, that gave Micah another shot at things, to help people like Soph would have wanted because she sure as hell wouldn’t have wanted him sitting on his ass crying into his drink. He didn’t want to go back to the force though, so he did the next big thing, he became a private investigator and signed up as a retainer to the local RPIT squad. He was a monster that could get other monsters to talk, and even though there was supernatural elements on the RPIT team, Micah was still the one that managed to get them the breaks in the cases that they had.

So, he helped people and in a roundabout way damned others if they were found guilty, there was many a time that he’d stood by and watched one or more licensed executioners stake a vampire or shoot a lycanthrope full of silver. Did he feel any sympathy? Maybe a little, but not enough that he wanted to put himself on the line of fire for them. His family didn’t approve of him sniffing around, eventually his parents disowned him and after awhile, the rest of his family too, but that was ok with him, he still made sure to stay in contact with his sisters even if it was an email here, an instant message there, or a card sent care of their schools. The senior O’Connor’s may have killed him in their minds, but the younger generation loved the fact that their ‘dead’ big brother had all kinds of interesting stories and adventures to tell them when their parents weren’t looking.

In retrospect, he probably should have thought about moving to a place that didn’t have a streak and a Chang in residence. One case was all it took for Micah to be a lone tiger, to be drawn into Clan life again. Just one, and his life wasn’t his own anymore but Caroline’s. The Chang preyed on his weakness and need to help people, she set him up, and when she found out that he knew how to take a females beast into himself, the crazy woman was ecstatic. Only problem was that Micah refused point blank to do it, even when she punished him, and set other males against him, Micah still refused to do it. Hell, he was even offered a second chance to just teach another to take in someone’s beast, and again, the refusal only earned him more trouble but for some odd reason Caroline didn’t kill him. She sent him on his way after a few months of the one sided game, making sure that he was to come when she called and he agreed to that full heartedly.

For the last few years, he’s been dancing around her and coming like a good dog when she demanded. It wasn’t until 2009 that she started to call him more and more, a blue tiger attack in her city had poked her interest, and the survivor had even more. Jasper Keller, a man that Micah’s never met in person, passed him on the street once, was Caroline’s new object of interest. She didn’t care that his wife and child had been slaughtered, she wanted him for some reason and Micah was sent off to play fetch. The only problem being that Jasper moved to England before Micah could bring him to Caroline, and when he reported this, he was handed a plane ticket too and told that if he needed any resources or possessions that they’d be sent along after him.

Irritated, he set his goal in mind and moved to England too, hoping that it would be a short trip. Didn’t take him long to track down the blue tiger, to some little hole in the middle of nowhere called Jackford. Boy, doesn’t he have his work cut out for him? [/LIST][/SIZE]

[frankchurchillsaysrelax]

“Everything you think I need isn’t what I need. What I need is you.”  #Malex. please and thank you !!

Also for the nonnie who requested the same thing!

A person’s pain tolerance is supposed to directly correlate to their strength. That was one of his father’s favorite excuses at least.

“If you’re going to be strong enough to survive this world, son, you’ll need to learn to handle a little pain.”

For everything Alex has been through, all that he’s survived, he should be far stronger than he feels in this moment. He hears Michael yelling his name from below ground but he keeps moving forward, desperate to get to his car and escape. When faced with the options of fight or flight he would always choose flight when Michael Guerin is involved.

He unlocks the car and tugs on the handle only to hear the lock switch back into place. He tries again and gets the same result.

“What happened to being tired of walking away, huh?” Alex tries the door for a third time but Michael is once again faster.

Alex turns slowly and finds Michael farther away than expected, standing by the fire pit with the final piece of the console still clutched in his hand. The wind blows his curls, leaving them as untamed yet beautiful as the man himself. Alex wonders if there will ever be a time where he can look at Michael without assuming it’s going to be the last time. Although he knows that sentiment has never been more true.

“Just let me go, Guerin,” he pleads.

He had hoped to be far away before allowing himself the freedom to cry but he doesn’t bother holding back now. He’s felt his heart break before, many times in situations identical to this. It’s different now. Instead of breaking, his heart is clawing its way through his chest, longing to stay behind where it belongs.

“You always gotta have the last word, don’t you? Always have to be the one who walks away. You can never just stay and and give me a chance or listen to what I have to say.” Michael stalks forward as he speaks until he’s standing directly in front of him.

“Not this time, Alex.” He glances down at the missing piece to a lifelong puzzle. “You think this is my answer? You’ve never even asked me what the goddamn question is. But you’re gonna listen now, got it?”

He hasn’t left Alex with many other options. He nods.

Michael reaches out with his left hand to wipe the tears from his cheeks and Alex loses himself in the simple brush of fingers on his skin, letting Michael’s touch calm him as it always has. Even when they ignite a fire in his blood that leaves him feeling electric, Michael’s hands have always had the ability to allay the fear and turmoil that has taken permanent residence in his veins.

“I’ve been working on this since I found the first fragment when I was fourteen years old. I was in the desert after running away from my foster dad and I threw my sleeping bag directly on top of the damn thing.” This is the most Michael has ever shared at once and Alex is captivated even if he knows it’s leading to things he doesn’t want to hear.

“I didn’t have a clue what it was, but when I held it, it was like I knew that it was ours and that someday it was gonna get me home. Somewhere that I could have a family who loved and accepted me, where I’d finally feel like I belonged.”

Alex can’t stop the ugly, painful sob that shakes him. He doesn’t know how much more of this he can take. The permanence of Michael’s choice weighs heavy on his entire being threatening to crush him.

Michael sets the shard on the roof of the car, freeing his hands to reach up and cup Alex’s face. He looks like he wants to move closer but keeps the distance between them and only offers this small token of comfort.

“And then you came along, Alex.” Their eyes lock and Alex is frozen, unable to look away or breathe at the sudden infusion of hope that Michael’s watery eyes offer.

“You showed me that I could have all of that here, that I wasn’t nothing.” Matching tears mirror their way down his cheeks and Alex brings shaking hands up to either side of Michael’s neck in comfort. “Everything you think I need isn’t what I need. What I need is you.”

Insecurity so deeply rooted inside of him that it grows like ivy tangled with his very soul tries to tell him that this is too good to be true. He can’t be enough to keep Michael tethered to this planet. He does his best to banish it and listen to what else Michael has to say.

“The ship became a way to keep my family safe. As soon as Rosa died I knew there might come a time when we’d need an escape plan.” His voice is rough yet filled with so much wonder and love it leaves Alex feeling dizzy. “That’s what you’ve given me, guaranteed safety. That’s what you have always given me.”

Michael can’t resist the ever present pull between them anymore it seems as he drags Alex toward him and into a bruising kiss. Alex leans into him, immediately shifting his hands to the back of Michael’s head and biting at his lips until Michael’s mouth opens on a gasp. They give themselves over to the familiar intimacy of hands and mouths, an insatiable need that lingers deep in their bones always awoken with a single touch. Alex lets their physical connection consume him while his brain works to process the kindness of Michael’s words. 

Michael’s hands move to his chest and push gently before they can get carried away.

Alex leans his forehead easily against Michael’s, taking comfort in the warm breath that fans against his cheeks and the soft texture of wild curls still clutched in his hands. Michael is here. He’s right here and he says he isn’t going to leave. And yet.

“I want to believe you, but I don’t think I know how to do that,” he admits, ashamed but more honest than he’s ever been in his life.

“I know.” Michael nods and Alex knows that if anyone were to understand it would be him.

“I want to work on that though.”

A warm smile brightens Michael’s face. “Good.” After a moment he pulls away, putting a friendly amount of distance between them. “While you do, can we promise to be honest with each other?” His brow furrows and he bites absently at his bottom lip like he’s afraid Alex will say no. “I meant what I said about being sick of secrets. I don’t know if I can just be your friend, but I liked your idea about getting to know each other better.”

Alex shoves his hands in his pockets to keep himself from doing something stupid like dragging Michael’s kiss swollen lips back to his. An impetuous act which would contradict everything they’re promising each other. “I’d really like that.”

Michael takes a step backwards and reaches for the accursed piece of console before offering it to Alex without hesitation. “I want you to know you’re safe with me too. Hold onto this for me and only give it back when you feel like you can trust me.”

Alex holds it carefully like something precious, running his fingers across the surface and watching the colors dance. “I don’t know how long that might be.”

“That’s fine,” Michael shoots back easily, cowboy swagger falling back in place. “I’m not going anywhere.”

[seeaddywrite]

this was ... not what i wanted to post next at all, but this is what i wrote, so what the hell? this is set in the Aftermath ‘verse, about six months after the Michael & Isobel fic, but can absolutely be read as a stand-alone.  i have a few more fics planned in this universe, so we’ll see how it goes. 

i was too impatient to get anyone else to look at this, so read at your own peril; typos likely abound. 

warnings for discussion of canonical character death & grief. title from P!nk & Wrabel’s song 90 Days, which you should absolutely listen to for some angsty Malex feels. 

let me down slowly (i’ll be okay)

When Alex’s phone goes off in the middle of sorting through data from yet another of his father’s top-secret bases, he almost ignores it. He’s been searching through the Project Shepherd files for any information on alien powers — anything that might give Michael or Isobel an advantage on learning how to harness the energy that Max did to resurrect Rosa so they could save him, too.  Locating that information is far more pressing than anything anyone can be texting him, as far as Alex is concerned. This is the one contribution he can make to the cause, the only way he can help, and Alex is determined to do it to the best of his ability and as quickly as he can. It’s a way to make up for the pain his father caused these people, a way to atone — and, as selfish as it is, a way to show Michael that he’s not making a mistake by trusting Alex again.

Six months of working together to bring Max Evans back from the dead has done wonders for Alex and Michael’s relationship. They’re friends, now, the kind that support each other and listen while the other talks, and have been slowly moving toward something more — but aside from one desperate kiss when Alex was too drunk to restrain himself about a month ago, they haven’t really stepped over the line. Alex knows that there’s too much going on right now to push it; they’ve got Rosa to keep hidden and Max to save, and after that, Jesse Manes and the rest of his bases to take down. He shouldn’t be worrying about romance or sex, not when he’s lucky enough to have Michael back in his life at all — but Alex can’t help but want. He’s proud of himself for supporting Michael through all of this, even before he and Maria called it quits, and he’s glad to know that he’s been a comfort, but he can’t help but feel that if he was only allowed to hold Michael, to tear all of his defenses down and really be there, he could do more.

Alex shakes himself, determined not to get lost in the minefield that is his and Michael’s relationship. He turns his attention back to the monitors in front of him, tracking information and entering his own effortlessly. Codebreaking in the military while under fire was difficult; sitting in a secure bunker with no one after his life is almost boring, especially when one considers the pathetic cyber defenses his father uses. He forgets about the text for another half an hour as he delves into files on test subjects and gets lost in the horrors contained there.

Eventually, Alex runs into another firewall. His father’s defenses aren’t complex, but they are numerous, and it takes some time for the codes he’s running to find away through.  While they work, he checks his phone, frowning at the brief message from Liz that lights up his screen.

I think Michael could use some company at the cave tonight.

There’s nothing else, no explanation or greeting, but that’s not unlike Liz, these days. Her thoughts are constantly preoccupied with keeping Rosa hidden or bringing Max back; there isn’t much time for friends or small-talk. He’s done his best to shove into her life when she needs a reality check, and he knows that Maria has, too, though he hasn’t quite been able to bring himself to join the two of them. Things between himself and Maria have been strained, at best, despite the fact that she and Guerin broke up less than a month after Max’s death. According to Michael, the truth had proven to be too much for Maria — she doesn’t want to be included in the dangerous stuff, though she’s been excellent support for Liz and Rosa through all of the madness.

His phone dings again, and this time, it’s GPS coordinates. Alex assumes they’re for the cave — he hasn’t actually been there, for all that he is doing his best to help Max. It doesn’t feel like it’s his place to go. After all, he only knows Max through their interactions in high school, and a few polite encounters since Alex’s return to Roswell. It feels wrong, somehow, to intrude in a place so full of grief and hope for a man he barely knows, so he hasn’t asked to be included. He’s on the periphery of the group, despite his contributions; Isobel still watches him warily, her green gaze discontent whenever she sees him with Michael, and even Kyle gets a warmer welcome from Michael’s sister than he does. Guerin treats him the same as he always has, with more carefully defined physical boundaries, and tells him not to worry, that Isobel is just trying to look out for Michael — but it still stings.

But none of that matters if Liz is right, and Michael actually needs him. Alex has been determinedly fighting for another chance for six months — because he meant what he said, the day before his hopes got crushed by an entire morning spent waiting for a visit that never came. He’s done fighting his father’s battles. He’s going to fight for himself, for what he wants, and damn the consequences. The first time he walked away from Michael, he was a scared kid, but now, Alex is a fucking warrior. He’s hacked into terrorist weapons’ caches while his base in the Middle East was under fire, and he lost a leg keeping the communications array up between his squad while running for his life— if he can face those things and win, he can damn well face some time waiting for Michael to disentangle his love for Alex from the pain the Manes family had caused him. It’s only fair, after all; Geurin had given Alex the time he needed to pull himself together, after Baghdad.

Meanwhile, Alex has adopted a holding pattern, a ‘wait and see’ ideology that he knows he can’t maintain indefinitely. It’s too hard, and it hurts too much, to see Michael stumbling through crisis after crisis and be kept on the outskirts of his life. Sometimes, on the bad days, he wonders if this is revenge for his own actions after enlisting — if this is Michael giving him a taste of his own medicine, rather than trying to piece together the shattered remains of his secrets to form a normal life. Usually, when that thought strikes him, however, Alex can identify it as his own anxieties talking. Guerin had been honest, when they talked after the end of his whatever with Maria. He can’t commit to anything except for helping Isobel bring Max back. Anything else would distract from that goal, and he’s not willing to be selfish with Max’s life on the line — and, he admits later, when neither of them expect the words, that he’s scared. It’s so unlike Guerin to admit such a thing that Alex can only stare, but it makes sense. Alex’s father, his family, has caused so much pain, and all of it, one way or another, had ended up falling on Michael’s head. Alex was scared, too, when he considered it.

So instead of pushing the way he wants to, Alex accepts the boundaries Michael lays out. Meanwhile, he reconnects with Rosa, a friend he’d believed he’d never see again, and supports Liz as best he can while she grapples with the guilt she feels whenever she’s happy to have her sister back, since it cost all of them Max to get it. He goes to PT and continues to work on his endurance with the prosthetic, and even adds some decor to the spartan interior of his cabin. He hangs out with Kyle, who’s turned out to be a damned good friend, despite their history, and he researches. His enlistment period is over in a few weeks, and he’ll lose access to some of his resources then, but Alex knows that he’ll never stop working to keep the aliens — to keep Michael — safe. Because no matter where they end up, Guerin is Alex’s family, and no circumstances can change that.

Alex, seriously. I don’t want to have to send Isobel out there. She’s finally getting some sleep, and Michael will just end up trying to make her feel better, instead of the other way around.

The second text brings Alex out of his reverie, and he responds quickly with, On my way.

Just as Liz offers no explanations, he asks no questions — talking about Michael behind his back isn’t exactly friendly behavior, and he knows Liz is probably either knee-deep in her own research or being forced into bed by a worried, over-protective big sister. And if Michael’s actually acting strangely enough for it to sink through the distracted fog Liz has been in for the last six months, there’s definitely good reason to go make sure that he’s all right. If this was before Max’s death, he might guess that she’s trying to meddle in his love life, but Alex knows better than to think Liz capable of thinking like that, now. He wishes she could; then, at least, he’d know she’d be okay.

But no one is really okay right now, are they?

                                                                           *******

Less than an hour later finds Alex sighing down at a map on his phone. The cave is two miles back from any roadway, and there’s no alternate route  that won’t require hiking two miles after a full twelve hours on his bad leg already.  It figures that Liz wouldn’t think to warn him about the walking — even when she wasn’t constantly distracted by trying to hold herself together, Alex had been damned good at making it seem like he could do anything he could have done before he lost the leg. Alex hates to admit that he can’t do something, or to ask for help, and he makes sure that he is perfectly self-sufficient around his friends at all times. He doesn’t want them to worry about him, or God forbid, pity him.

So, in true bull-headed fashion, Alex parks as close as he can get to the cave, makes note of the car’s coordinates so he can find it again later, and starts out through the desert with his backpack slung over one shoulder. He spares a minute to wish he’d left his crutch in the car for emergencies, but doesn’t waste time on it. Almost two years out from his amputation, Alex knows he’s capable of making the journey, and that’s all that matters. Afterward will likely be a different story, but he’ll deal with that when forced. For now, his mind is focused on Michael, and why Liz would think he needed Alex tonight.

The walk takes him a little more than an hour, and the sun is starting to sink in the sky, bathing the desert and entrance to Noah’s hidden cave in golden light. Just outside the opening, Alex pauses, the sound of someone strumming a guitar catching him by surprise. He knows that one of Max’s last acts was to heal Michael’s hand; he has complicated feelings on the subject, and suspects Michael does too, though it’s impossible to deny that good has come out of it. Guerin needs the guitar, needs to play music, in a way that Alex wants to understand, but can’t. He loves music, and always has, but the moment Guerin’s hands touch guitar strings, the tension bleeds from him instantly, and Alex was never that lucky when he played in high school.

He lingers there for a few moments, letting the complicated melody carry him back in time, to a cramped tool shed and the beautiful, guarded boy that Alex wanted to kiss more than he’d ever wanted anything else. They’d both been so different, then. While young Michael had been far from open, those prickly, defensive barriers hadn’t grown so tall Alex couldn’t climb them, and the omnipresent warmth in his eyes when he looked at Alex hadn’t yet become clouded with hurt and grief. It had been so easy between them, then. Just two boys, figuring out how to love for the first time and finding refuge in one another.

Until his father had ruined it, ruined everything.

But Alex isn’t there to stand around cursing Jesse Manes; he can — and does — do enough of that on his own time. So, subconsciously straightening the front of his leather jacket, he walks into the small space of the cave. Michael’s sitting cross-legged on the ground with his back to Alex, the guitar still in his lap, fingers strumming idly more than picking out a specific melody, and even from this angle, Alex knows his eyes are closed as he searches for the peace the guitar usually brings him.

It doesn’t seem to be working today, though. Guerin’s shoulders are tense beneath his thick flannel shirt, and Alex hates himself a little for appreciating the way his muscles flex every time his grip on the guitar shifts to change chords. He clears his throat after a long moment, surprised that Michael hasn’t noticed him already. He’s gotten a lot more in tune with his mental powers, lately, since he and Isobel began working to strengthen their abilities, and sneaking up on Michael had become as difficult as fooling Isobel.

Michael doesn’t turn. “Liz called you,” he guesses, and Alex has to strain to hear the words over the echoing thrum of the guitar. “I told her I was fine.”

Alex is far from convinced by that statement. He takes a couple of slow steps toward Michael, grateful that the cave is small and mostly flat, because his leg is already starting to get stiff and achy from the hike through the desert — and also because he’s not sure of his welcome. Guerin doesn’t seem particularly pleased to see him, and it’s awkward to be in this cave, where Max seems to be resting peacefully in the glowing orb in front of them while they all work frantically to get him back.

“Well, I just walked two miles through the desert, so can I stay anyway?” Alex asks, aiming for levity. “I could use some rest before I take the return trip.” Sitting on the cave floor isn’t exactly his favorite idea; getting down there isn’t going to be graceful, and getting up will be worse, but it’s not like there are any chairs out here. There’s a tiny cot shoved against the far wall, covered in floral blankets that suggests its mostly Isobel’s resting place, and Alex doesn’t want to be that far away from Michael, even if he’s willing to sit on it.

When Michael doesn’t answer him, Alex sighs inwardly and levers himself awkwardly to the ground, his bad leg extended so that if he falls, it’ll be on his ass rather than the residual limb. His shoulder bumps Michael’s as he sits, and Alex winces at the unintended contact, even as it finally gets the other man to look at him. “Sorry,” he mumbles, the urge to apologize for his ungainliness one that’s hard to suppress, even after all this time. He lifts his gaze to meet Michael’s though, because he refuses to be that embarrassed, and nearly gasps.

Guerin is a mess. His eyes are red-rimmed and surrounded by blue bruise-like shadows and bone-white skin, making him appear more like a corpse than Max, who floats peacefully in the pod in front of them, his features obscured by the glowing surface. And the lauded quiet that comes from holding a guitar is conspicuously absent in his eyes — instead, the brown orbs hold only desperation and loneliness, and an isolation the Alex never, ever wants to see again.

“Michael, what —?” Alex doesn’t know how to ask what’s happened. Michael’s been working as hard, if not harder, than the rest of them to bring back his brother, but he hasn’t looked this bad since the first week or so directly following Rosa’s resurrection. He’s been doing better, lately — at least, Alex thinks so. Maybe he’s missed something?

The idle strumming stops, then, and Michael’s gaze shifts to the pod in front of them again, his fingers clutching the neck of the guitar so tightly that his knuckles turn white. “Mrs. Evans called me, today,” he says tightly, and Alex is struck with the feeling that Michael doesn’t want to answer, even as the words spill into the silence between them. “It’s been six months, and Max isn’t the unreliable type, right?  He always calls her back, because he’s a fucking Boy Scout, and she hasn’t heard from him in half a year. And Isobel’s been dodging her calls, because she keeps hoping we’ll figure this out so she never has to tell the truth.” He swallows, and Alex watches as his throat works in the pale light from the pod. “But six months? What was I supposed to say? That he’s fine? That he — developed some kind of drug problem and went to rehab, or chased a girl around the globe and abandoned his family? No one who knows him is going to fucking believe that! Especially not the people who raised him!”

The air in the cave becomes tense with barely leashed power, and Alex finds himself holding his breath. He’s not afraid — Michael has never hurt him physically, not once, no matter what was happening around or between them, and he doubts he’ll start now. But it’s impossible not to share the other man’s tension when they’re this close, and Alex wishes he knew how to help.

“I didn’t know what to tell her,” Michael continues, his voice raw as he visibly grapples with the tears threatening to spill from his eyes. “I couldn’t tell her that he’s dead, because it’s been six fucking months — plus, they’d want to bury him, see the body.” He’s still staring straight ahead at the pod, so intently that Alex wonders if he’s trying to will Max to open his eyes and fix all of this. “I ended up saying I hadn’t heard from him, either,” he finishes with a hoarse laugh, and Alex winces at the sound, hating the bitterness that echoes in it. “I told her he and I haven’t really talked in ten years, and I’d be the last person he’d tell if he was taking off.” The guitar seems to bend under the force of Michael’s grip, and Alex, unthinking, reaches out to rescue it from the explosive power of Guerin’s grief before he shatters it.

Once the instrument is safely put to the side, Alex turns at the waist to face Michael and tentatively rests a hand on his forearm, half-expecting to be brushed off immediately. He understands, now, why Michael is upset. He had to have a difficult conversation, and then lie and pretend everything would be fine. And then, on top of that, he was forced to invalidate his own grief to keep the truth hidden. All of that in addition to the stress he’s under daily, now, is a lot for anyone to bear alone.

“You did the right thing,” Alex promises quietly, even though he wishes he had something better.  The right thing for the Evans’ is clearly not the right thing for Michael, and Alex wonders if Michael will ever get to be selfish and protect himself, rather than someone else. It doesn’t seem likely, and that fact makes Alex resentful. “None of us are giving up, Guerin. We’ll figure it out, one way or another, and then Max can set things right with his mom himself.” The optimism isn’t exactly Alex’s milieu, but he knows what Michael needs to hear right now and gives it to him with as much certainty as he can conjure.

“What if we can’t?” Michael is the first one to voice the doubt. After six months, none of the rest of them had dared — even Kyle hadn’t questioned the possibility with Rosa standing in front of him after he’d seen her autopsy photos. Isobel and Liz would have sliced them to ribbons with the sharp edges of their tongues, at least — and they’d all just fallen into the reality that was the aliens could bring someone back from the dead, even ten years later. “Max would never forgive us if we killed someone just to bring him back, and I won’t let Iz try it, no matter how much she says she would, if we found someone who ‘deserved it.’”

Alex swallows. As a soldier, he’d believed himself to be fighting people who deserved death for their crimes. He’d gone to war to fight and win battles, and he had — he’d been responsible for the deaths of man, whether with his own gun or by hacking into their own systems to detonate their own weapons to use against them. The nightmares came whether or not the people he killed were terrorists or not, though, and he lived with the knowledge that he’d fallen to their level — that really, he was part of the evil, too. No, he wouldn’t wish that knowledge on Isobel, or anyone else.

“We don’t know that’s the only way,” Alex says, keeping his voice level as they both stare forward at the glowing pod that is the crux of their most pressing problem. “Max may have needed to kill Noah to bring Rosa back, but there are thousands of files full of data on my father’s data bases, and all of those people were capable of doing incredible things. We might be able to find something, still — it just takes time to look through everything. And you and Isobel working together might contribute more power than just Max, so it could just be a matter of finding the right combination of-”

When he chances another look at the other man, Alex finds that Michael’s staring at him, his expression impossible to read in the dim light of the cave. He trails off, self-conscious under that inscrutable stare. There was a time when Alex believed he could read every flicker of emotion in those features, back when the world still made sense and aliens were a cool villain in action movies, rather than his reality. Now, Alex knows better, just as he knows that it’s stupid to remind Guerin of all the work they’ve been doing to help Max. He’s been spearheading most of the attempts with Liz and Isobel; it’s not like Michael doesn’t know what their options are, and their chances of success. He shouldn’t have recapped it all when he’s got nothing new to offer. Blind optimism is hardly useful, and Michael won’t appreciate —

Suddenly, they’re so close that Alex can feel Michael’s breath on his face, and his own stutters in his chest, effectively ending the inner turmoil their proximity creates. This is the closest they’ve been in so long that his body doesn’t know how to react; he feels flushed and cold simultaneously, aroused and terrified of making the wrong move all at once. He swallows, the noise loud to his own ears, and slowly pulls his gaze from where it lingered on Michael’s lips to his eyes. This is not what it feels like, he tells himself firmly. He’s not ready. He’s not going to kiss you. Stop getting your hopes up.

But Michael is oblivious to Alex’s inner monologue and only leans closer, one of his hands lifting to rest against the side of Alex’s jaw. “You never give up, do you?” he asks, and the wonder in his tone tells Alex that they’re having two different conversations. It’s enough to make his heartbeat pick up the pace, and Alex tries to give himself another reminder that this can’t be what it seems, but months of patience and repressed desire makes him reckless.

Slowly, Alex lifts his own hand to cover the one still cupping his jaw, and he smiles, small and hopeful, at Michael. He knows that the other man will be able to see everything he’s feeling if he cares to look; Alex is good at hiding his emotions when he has to, but Michael knows him too well, and he’s too tired of fighting for nothing to even try. It’s time to be honest, both of them — and if this goes sideways, maybe, at the very least, Alex will be able to break the holding pattern he’s been stuck in for half a year.

“Not on things that matter,” he whispers, and despite all the stern warnings he’d been giving himself a mere moment ago, Michael is touching him like he hasn’t in months, in the way no one has in just as long. The unintentional isolation was enough, several months ago, to drive Alex to excess drinking and an ill-advised attempt at a kiss. Michael had rebuffed him — kindly, of course, and with an explanation that had given Alex hope for the future — but it had still stung, still translated in his mind as Guerin doesn’t want me. So as much as Alex aches to haul Michael in by the collar of his flannel and kiss him senseless, he doesn’t.

Instead, Alex waits, all of his most vulnerable parts on display, and hopes.

Michael’s so close Alex can count each of his individual eyelashes, and he takes a moment to appreciate that the haunted, lonely look has vanished from his face. In its place is a crooked smirk, a more honest approximation of the expression that has gotten Alex in his bed more than once in the past decade. It’s so good to see him smile, to see the tension begin to ease from his shoulders, that Alex nearly forgets the want building in his gut — nearly.

“You matter to me, too,” Michael murmurs, and then there’s no more waiting. There’s a hand at the back of his head and another at his collar and rough lips against his, moving tentatively and so unlike Michael’s usual gestures of affection that Alex has to take control for a moment. He tangles his fingers in the curls nearest his hands and pulls, trying to remind Michael without words that he doesn’t need to hesitate, that Alex has been here this whole time, waiting, and there’s no chance of rejection. No walking away.

It’s all too easy, then, as soon as Michael takes the cue and deepens the kiss, to forget where they are and why. As always, as soon as their lips align, Alex forgets everything but the way Michael tastes on his tongue and the feel of their bodies pressed against one another. Reasonable thought goes up in flames, burned to ash by the heat they generate when they share space, and Alex is half in Michael’s lap before he even realizes how he got there, bad leg extended to help him keep his balance. It’s heady and overwhelming and everything he’s been missing since the last time he was allowed to this, and Alex never wants it to end.

A firm hand on his stops the exploration beneath the hem of Michael’s shirt. “No,” a rough voice tells him, the word spoken against Alex’s lips. Instantly,  Alex pulls away and all but falls out of Michael’s lap and into the dirt, kiss-swollen and breathless and suddenly nauseous with anxiety. Michael said ‘no.’ Michael stopped him, pushed him away. Again. Michael still doesn’t want him. Fuck, when is he going to learn that Manes men don’t get happy endings? When is he going to stop doing this to himself? How many times is he going to have to piece himself together when he and Michael can’t make this thing between them work?

“Hey, stay with me,” Michael says, and there are gentle fingers on his jaw, making him meet Michael’s gaze. It hurts to do so, but Alex is done being a victim. He’d said six months ago that he was only going to fight his own battles from then on, and fighting for Michael Guerin is the only one that’s ever really been worth it.

“Look,” Alex starts, his voice harsher than he’d intended. “I know you’re still figuring things out, Guerin. I know you’ve got a lot on your plate, and everything between us is complicated — but both of us being miserable and alone isn’t going to solve any of that! It’s not going to bring Max back, and it’s damn sure not going to help you deal with what my father did. But I’m not my father, Michael! I’m not, and it’s taken me six months to realize that there’s never any chance of becoming him.” That revelation had been a long time coming, and hard-fought, but Alex isn’t worried about becoming Jesse Manes anymore. He may not be a good man, and he may not deserve forgiveness for the mistakes he’s made, but Alex is no genocidal maniac, and he never will be.

Michael shakes his head and opens his mouth, his eyes wide, but Alex cuts him off. “No. I need to say this, okay? Just — let me. I’m in love with you, Michael. That hasn’t changed. You can date a hundred other people, and it’ll still be true. You could take another ten years to figure out if you can be with me, and my feelings won’t change. You’re my family, my safe place, and I —” Much to his shame, Alex’s voice shakes. “I need you. But if you can’t do this? If you really, honestly, don’t think we’re ever going to be able to work this out, I need to know. Because I can’t keep waiting around and breaking my own heart forever.”

The words hurt so much to say they may as well have been burned into his skin, but Alex pushes them through gritted teeth anyway. He doesn’t want to hear that it’s really over, isn’t sure he’ll be able to keep it together long enough to escape Michael’s presence before he breaks completely, but maybe, if he finally hears the truth, he’ll be able to do something. Move out of town, maybe. Find a city somewhere to start over. Do something other than take turns walking away with Michael Guerin.

“Alex, what are you — I just kissed you,” Michael reminds him, the genuine incredulity in his eyes making more of an impression on Alex than the words. “What the hell did you think that was?”

Alex blinks, taken aback by the question. “I - you said ‘no,’” he protests, though it’s weaker than it should be. He’s realized, belatedly, that he jumped to conclusions without giving Michael a chance to say anything, but he absolutely refuses to get his hopes up again.

“I said ‘no’ because we were about two minutes from having sex in front of my brother,” Michael says dryly, and gestures with his chin to the pod. “Not that he’d notice, but —” he shifts uncomfortably, eyes lingering on Max’s still form beneath the cloudy glass. “Doesn’t exactly feel right, you know? Plus, we’d have sand in all sorts of uncomfortable places, and I’m not a big fan of chafing.” He shoots a grin over his shoulder at Alex, but he can read the nervousness in the expression. Michael’s just as unsure as he is, and neither of them are handling this as well as they could be.

Alex exhales shakily, and nods once. “That . . . makes sense.” Chewing at the inside of his cheek, he shifts, trying to get comfortable on the ground again. “So, just to be sure we’re on the same page, that kiss meant --?”

“That kiss meant that you matter to me, too,” Michael repeats his earlier words immediately, a fond smile on his face, that temporarily masks the exhaustion and grief of the past half a year. “And that I’m just as fucking tired of waiting as you are. I can’t promise I’m going to be easy to put up with —”

“When were you ever?” Alex tosses back, and despite his best efforts, hope balloons in his chest.

“— and I have to make Max my priority. I owe it to Isobel and Liz, and him,” Michael continues, as if Alex never spoke. He’s running the pads of his fingers over the back of the hand Jesse Manes had once taken a hammer to, obviously remembering one of the many things he wants to talk to his brother about, but can’t. “But if you’re sure you want to sign up for this, then I’m not going anywhere.”

This is something that Alex has been hoping to put up with for the last six months. Michael sees himself as an outsider, as someone not worth the love that he so richly deserves, because that’s what life has taught him. What Alex has taught him, inadvertently. And there are plenty of reasons for them to not be together — Jesse Manes and his alien crusade at the top of the list. But Alex isn’t afraid of aliens or his father anymore. His only fear is living a life without Michael Guerin in it, and if he doesn’t have to face that reality, he can face just about anything else.

“Sign, huh? Is there a dotted line somewhere?” Alex asks, his heart pounding so loudly he’s sure Michael can hear it. “Or is this the kind of deal we seal with a kiss?”

Michael laughs, unrestrained and genuinely happy, and every insecurity and doubt Alex feels melts away in the warmth of that sound. Because if he can make Michael happy, even for just this moment in the midst of the madness they’re enduring, then everything has been worth it. He leans in close, trusting Michael to support him, and presses their lips together in silent promise.

[ruffiorocks]

Little scene I'd enjoy seeing.

You know what I'd really like to see this season? Lena being pissed at Supergirl but she goes about it in petty amusing ways:

. She starts to lock her balcony doors

. she has tech set up to alert her if Supergirl is flying by , she has shutters on her doors and windows now.

. Supergirl as we all know is very loose with her X Ray vision. Seeing Lena's office all blacked out she immediately uses her X Ray vision to see through the door.

. Supergirl gets a rude awakening though when she immediately gets a head ache and can't see through the glass. Turns out Lena has repurposed the tech she used so Reign couldn't see through her cell, the one Supergirl got all pissed off about even thinking it could hurt her, when in reality it gave her a headache and just meant she couldn't be nosey.

. Supergirl of course is both pissed and confused so she tries to land on the balcony, but Lena knows she's there and amuses herself by pressing a button that either throws up a barrier or retracts the balcony everytime Supergirl tries to land.

. Supergirl is desperate to know what's going on and a little suspicious because she suddenly can't invade Lena's privacy and why would Lena need privacy from a Super? Must be suspicious! She's not used to be denied!

. Left with little options other than smashing through the balcony, making a scene, pissing Lena off and causing a lot of damage she knows she can't pay for since the DEO are no longer covering Super related public destruction she is left with one option....

.Supergirl has to land on the street and go through L Corp lobby! Signing in like any other visitor. It slips her mind that it's Kara Danvers who has access all to Lena's office, NOT Supergirl, since she just tends to land on the balcony. So she has to stand in line with the mail man, a few in turns and some other businessman. Oh and it takes a WHILE!

. Once she's signed in using the visitors book, and has a temporary ID badge given to her she thinks she can go and see Lena! Oh my sweet summer Kryptonian....

. Supergirl then has to have a full pat down in front of EVERYONE! Lena doesn't take any chances with her security since Alana the Traitor and the amount of people with guns who have made it to her office. Supergirl is cursing herself right now for suggesting some of these security checks to Lena to keep her safe.

. Once the pat down is done, which included her having to remove her boots and stand around in her tights she then has to go through a metal detector.

. Supergirl raises an eyebrow at the security guard but he doesn't even flinch. She walks through it and sets it off because 1. Her ear comm and 2. She is made of steel.

. This leads to more security guards heading towards Supergirl and she is trying to explain she is literally made of steel!

. While this is going on visitors and employees at L Corp are taking their phones out and filming it.

. Lena has already been informed Supergirl is in the lobby and she's watching this circus unfold on her big TV with satisfaction. She is going to make sure to upload the footage to YouTube when it's done.

. Eventually Supergirl is allowed to go to the top floor, but she's told she's not allowed to fly in the building, when she asks why she's told it's simple L Corp policy, Lena employs many aliens and some can fly, but she won't have flying in the office anymore than she allows running in her halls!

. Supergirl is then forced to wait for the lift and squeeze in with a lot of people. She has to stop at every floor and have everyone stare at her and take photos as soon as the doors open.

. Eventually she makes it to the top floor, she thinks this nightmare is over but then again it's Kara Danvers with 24 hour access to Lena NOT Supergirl. She strides past Jess' desk only to be halted by an unamused (although cackling on the inside) secretary. Jess demands to know what Supergirl thinks she's doing and Supergirl can't manage anything more than wanting to see Lena.

. So Jess tells her to take a seat while she calls Lena.

. Jess is on the phone with Lena for a few minutes and then she looks up and asks Supergirl if it's an emergency? Supergirl can't say it is, so Jess tells her that Lena is busy, but she's welcome to wait until she's done?

. Supergirl sits on the couch for half an hour and is offered a cup of tea by Jess, which she accepts. As soon as she starts to drink it more people take photos of her.

. Supergirl then starts to talk to Alex over her comms because she hasn't checked in for a while. Jess is NOT amused and says she can't have that on in here, if she has a call to make she can take it back downstairs.

. Dreading the idea of having to get back in the lift and go through this charade again she abruptly tells Alex she's fine and cuts her off.

. Eventually Jess' phone rings and Supergirl is allowed to go and see Lena.

.Lena schools her face into her CEO mask because shes been trying really hard not to burst out laughing knowing Kara would hear her.

. Supergirl schools her face into what she thinks is her hero face, and marches into the office only to be met by a Lena that hasn't even bothered to look up.

. "you have 5 minutes Supergirl, I'm a busy woman."

. Supergirl then tries to throw the retracting balcony and the forcefield in Lena's face.

. Lena still doesn't look up from her paper work and merely states "for you to know there was a forcefield at all you would have had to used your x Ray vision to violate my privacy Supergirl. I would have thought blacked out windows were a sign I don't want to be seen, unless you're about to accuse me of more nefarious deeds and being out to get you when you're the one who just admitted to violating my privacy, you know like the time you asked my then boyfriend to spy on me? X Ray vision doesn't give you the right to violate privacy Supergirl! Next time get a warrant!" Lena finally looks up and raises an eyebrow.

. Supergirl is gobsmacked and has NOTHING! She tries to claim she was worried, but even she knows that isn't true really. She jumped to conclusions again and has had a big dose of reality thrown at her, she can't just do whatever she wants.

. Lena says she's had her 5 minutes, Lena's tech only gives Supergirl a head ache at best. It's all perfectly above board so Supergirl can't go crying to the DEO or Alex about it. Lena tells her if she ever tries to violate her privacy again she'll take her to court. Now she can leave the same way she came in.

. Supergirl looks longingly at the blacked out balcony windows but Lena, who has gone back to looking at her work states "and no, you can't use the balcony, the lift is good enough for me and my employees so it's good enough for you. I did state to you once that my balcony is NOT an entrance, it's not an exit either."

. Supergirl leaves and is to wounded to even care she's still being filmed. Lena was right, she used her powers to take advantage of Lena's privacy and not for the first time. She can't just use her powers on people, it's not right. She assumed Lena, her best friend was up to no good. She didn't respect the fact that the blacked out windows, barrier and retracting balcony were obvious signs Lena wanted to be left alone.

. Lena sits back in her chair and sighs, she enjoyed the first part of this plan, but the rest was a bitter sweet revenge. She decides not to upload the footage, but she doesn't bother with anyone else uploading it. She doesn't hate Kara, but she isn't ready to be OK with the lies. Kara had just proven to Lena that she doesn't fully trust her no matter how much they have been through. But she makes a silent promise to herself that she will still be there for Kara even if she is a colossal ass!

. She won't tell Kara she knows though, she wants to know how long it will take her to come clean. Kara using her x Ray vision just reinforces the idea that she was spying on Lena the whole time.