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duchessfics · 5 years ago

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A Lasting Mark Part 4

(https://ahs-gif-imagines.tumblr.com/post/171798402006/ahs-30-day-challenge-1530-character-that-i-wish)

(https://alainashuffman.tumblr.com/post/66522632737/sarah-paulson-in-piggy-piggy)

Billie x Fem!Reader x Audrey

Requested by @shineestark: I’m not saying we need a bit of Billie x reader x Audrey angst, but that’s exactly what I’m saying. reader seeing some random hate comments about her when she’s seen out with Audrey and/or Billie? reader and Billie and Audrey missing each other when they have to travel for filming? them fighting? SO MUCH POTENTIAL.

Warning(s): Angst, Relationship tension (I don’t know if that’s a warning, but just in case), use of cigarettes, cursing

Summary: You told Billie and Audrey that you didn’t mind them going on vacation without you, but as time progresses you begin to question that decision and your value in the relationship.

Word Count: 10,650

A/n: Vivi I hope I did this justice. I’m working on my angst, I promise. Although this ends resolved so... 😅 For some context Since this is in “The Lasting Mark Series” the reader is a stunt double and she has three older brothers with the oldest being a stunt double as well. I mentioned that in the first part, but if you’re confused that’s where the concept is from.

Here’s part 1, part 2 [NSFW], and part 3 [NSFW]

You watch Audrey and Billie rushing around your shared bedroom, throwing last minute items into their suitcases. However when you see the time on your phone you know that you need to go. So you hesitantly tell them, “We should have left five minutes ago…”

You hear Audrey curse in the bathroom, and something falls onto the floor. Meanwhile Billie throws the remaining clothes into their suitcases, no longer taking the time to neatly fold them. Then the actress dashes out with two stuffed toiletry bags and stuffs them in one of their checked bags. Both women zip up their respective suitcases as Audrey assures you, “That’s the last of it.”

So you take their two suitcases that are going to be checked and your girlfriends roll their carry-on suitcases in addition to their purses. It’s a good thing you’ve been weight training because both of these pieces of luggage have to be at least 60 pounds.

While walking out to the car you go over their checklist asking:

“You’ve got toothbrushes? Extra contacts? Sunglasses? Sunscreen? Chargers? Swimsuit?”

They answer yes to each one and you hope they’re right. That being so, you load everything into the trunk and get in the driver’s side to take them to the airport.

On the way there, Billie puts down the passenger’s window and lights a cigarette, making sure the ashes go outside. In response you hear a groan from the backseat.

“Bill, do you really have to do that now? I’m right behind you.”

The medium smirks and lets out a puff of smoke, resting her arm on the window’s ledge so most of the smoke blows out of the car. Then she adjusts her oversized designer sunglasses and purrs, “Honey, this is my last one before our vacation. I just need a couple minutes. Once we're there, I’ll be able to occupy myself with other…how do I put this…activities.”

You bite your lower lip in an attempt to conceal your smile when Audrey huffs, “Honestly.” Before moving to sit behind you. Billie just chuckles before teasing, “You know you love me, baby.”

The actress doesn’t respond, however when you take a glance in the rearview mirror, you see her cheeks have a pink flush to them that wasn’t there before.

Fortunately, you make up for running late by speeding along and you’re on time when you pull up to the drop off at the airport. Once you’ve parked the car you help Billie and Audrey unload all of their luggage.

After you check the trunk to make sure it’s empty Billie comes close to peck your lips and murmurs, “Goodbye, babygirl.” Then Audrey pecks your lips before reassuring you, “We’ll be back before you know it and the next time we go on vacation it will certainly be all three of us.”

The thought makes you smile and you nod before telling them, “Love you both.” Your girlfriends smile back and simultaneously reply, “Love you too.” Then you watch them walk into the airport until you can’t see them anymore and drive home.

By the time you get back to the house it’s just past noon. So you eat a light lunch of leftovers and put on some workout clothes. Once you’re dressed you head to their personal gym and workout in preparation for your stunt gig tomorrow.

Your training session ends up being a couple hours long and by the time you’re finished, both your body and your clothes are soaked with sweat. So you go to your bathroom to take a long shower.

At first, you turn the water cold to cool yourself down from all of the activity you did. After about 15 minutes, you warm up the water and finish washing yourself. The warmth soothes your sore muscles and your body feels jelly-like when you step out of the shower. It’s at that moment that your exhaustion catches up with you and since you have no other place to go, you throw on some sweatpants and a loose tee to lounge in.

Once you’re dressed you step out to the living room and lay out on the couch, halfway watching the tv show that’s on while checking your messages and Instagram to see if there’s anything from either of your girlfriends. But for the moment there’s nothing. They weren’t supposed to land in Hawaii until 7:00 your time and that’s just over an hour from now. So you continue to listen to your favorite tv show that you have seen plenty of times before while you cook dinner and meal prep for the coming week.

In the midst of cooking, your phone goes off and you see it’s your group text between you, Billie, and Audrey. After wiping your hands clean, you unlock your phone to see it’s a picture of Audrey laughing at a candlelit dinner. You can practically hear her giggles and smile at the fact that she isn’t worried about preventing her eyes from crinkling or the hint of a wrinkle on her forehead creasing. She looks truly happy and worry-free which is rare for her.

Then another photo appears and it’s at the same dinner. But this one is a selfie and Audrey looks at the camera with a grin and rosy cheeks while Billie’s face is turned to kiss Audrey’s cheek. Even though the medium doesn’t face the camera directly, you see the corner of her luscious lips curved up into a mischievous smirk. They look so happy together.

Like how they were before you came along…

But you stop yourself from going down that road.

They set this up before you came along. And you have to work anyway. That will keep you occupied. Next time you’ll be there.

You’re able to talk yourself down and text back,

You both look beautiful. ❤️ Was the flight ok?

Right away your message says read and Billie replies,

Thank you, sweetie. We made it here without a hitch. Audrey wants me to tell you she is sure you look beautiful too. 😘 We both hope your work goes well this week.

You text with them for a little longer and they tell you what it’s like there while you share some details about the job you have. After going back and forth for a half an hour, you tell them goodnight and go to bed soon after, feeling better than before texting them…

The next morning you are up before the sun rises and drive to the set for some action film. You know it involves spies and you’re standing in for one of the secondary characters to do some of the more intense fight scenes and stunts. But it’s nothing too strenuous compared to your usual gigs.

After checking in you head to the hair and makeup trailer to get in the same attire as the character. The sun is nearly rising when you step out and as you walk to the first set you’re filming at you hear a familiar voice from behind you say,

“Hey squirt.”

That makes you whip around to see your oldest brother standing there. Your grin mirrors his and you run up, giving him a hug. In response he chuckles and warns, “Don’t mess up your makeup, y/n.”

The reminder makes you backup and you give a soft apology, walking over to the filming area next to him. While walking, you ask, “How have you been? I feel like we haven’t seen each other in forever. Have you talked to Mom and Dad at all? I haven’t gotten a chance to. How are Michael and Jared?”

Your brother ends your questions with a laugh and says, “Woah, one question at a time, kid.” You roll your eyes at the nickname, however the stunt director calls you both over ending any further conversation.

You and Asher focus on your work because even a small mishap can be detrimental. It turns out that the character your brother is stepping in for is the antagonist and since you’re stepping in for the sidekick of the main character quite a few of your scenes are together.

Today consists of learning, rehearsing, and filming combat scenes multiple times with multiple shots to make sure the movement and technique doesn’t look sloppy. By the time you’re finished working, the sun is setting and you feel exhausted. The number of times your brother body-slammed you and yanked you into a harsh chokehold leaves you sore. Of course you beat him up too, but he effortlessly shakes it off. Both of you walk to the makeup and hair trailer after changing into your normal clothes and Asher comments,

“You seem quiet. You tired, squirt?”

You look to him and nod with slumped shoulders. Then you ask, “You?”

He smiles and replies, “Of course. And there was this one stunt double, I think she played the sidekick,” You giggle at his teasing and he continues, “I don’t know her name, but I’ll tell you what she beat my ass today. I’m gonna need to recover a little.”

You shove him with your shoulder, both of you laughing as you say, “Shut up.” He opens the trailer door for you while saying, “Really though. You’ve gotten stronger. I knew you could beat up Jared, but now I bet you could whoop him and Michael.”

Your brother is not one to just give compliments out, so it means a lot that he actually told you that. Being 14 years younger made it hard to connect with him as a kid, but when you work like this it feels much more natural to interact with each other, adult to adult.

“Thanks. I've been working out more the past couple months and I’m glad that my efforts are paying off.” You respond.

Asher sits in one chair and you grab your phone from your bag before sitting down next to him. It’s only then that you see the 30 text messages from your group chat with your girlfriends.

While you get your makeup and wig removed you begin to read through their texts starting from the first one this morning. First is a selfie of Audrey on what looks to be a balcony in the morning light. And the words she sends with the image are

Good morning, sweetheart. ❤️

The next text is Billie replying,

Morning beautiful. 😘

Then Audrey responds,

Did you seriously text me in the same room?

to which Billie teases,

Did you seriously do the same thing? 😉😘

Their banter over texts makes you let out a soft laugh and your brother leans towards you while asking, “What’s so funny?”

Immediately you close your phone and clutch it to your chest, squeaking, “Nothing.” Your cheeks burn as he teases with a grin, “Doesn’t seem like ‘nothing.’” Then his eyes widen in realization and he says in a more serious tone, “Oh my god, do you have a boyfriend?”

That completely throws you off and your ears begin to warm up when you sputter, “What? No Ash. I—”

But he cuts you off with a deep laugh and says, “Oh you definitely do. Is that why you haven’t talked to Mom and Dad in the past couple months?” Your mind races to answer and to make matters worse, your phone buzzes and lights up with a text notification. He stands up barefaced and you try to explain, “It’s not what you think—”

“Sure, y/n. Whatever helps you sleep at night.” He taunts with a grin. Then he grabs his duffle bag and slings it over his shoulder before saying, “I’ll see you tomorrow, kid.” He walks out and you let out a huff of annoyance at the misunderstanding. The makeup artist shoots you a sympathetic glance and assures you, “If it helps, I have brothers just like that.” The reassurance helps you to shrug it off and less than fifteen minutes later you’re finished and heading home.

When you enter the house, the oven’s clock shows it’s nearly 10:30. So you eat a light dinner while reading through the rest of their texts and photos. Once you’ve reached their most recent texts, you type your own, saying,

Sorry I haven’t responded at all today. I was busy working, but I’m glad you’re having a good time. ☺️ You both deserve that and more. Goodnight.

Your body aches as you climb into bed and within seconds, you’re out cold, completely spent from the day’s activities…

The next day begins the same way, waking up before the sun rises, driving to set and getting ready to shoot. However, as the makeup artist and hairstylist fix you up you watch Audrey and Billie’s Instagram stories.

Audrey’s first picture is the selfie she sent you with her hair tousled from sleep. Next is a boomerang of her clinking a glass of mimosa with another and you can tell it’s Billie just from the glimpse of her acrylic nails. She chose a bold coral color in honor of their vacation.

Finally, it’s a video showing Audrey’s legs on a lounge chair that’s partially in the water on the sun shelf of the infinity pool with the perfect view of the beach. Billie stands towards the edge and the sun beams down on them both.

Then the actress calls out Billie’s name, making her twist to face Audrey. She looks gorgeous wearing a designer, floppy hat with a brim that’s wide enough to shade her upper half and looks to be made with straw. And even though she chose a classic black one piece, there’s a deep V-neck cut that nearly reaches her navel exposing a generous amount of her skin. Only she could pull it off so effortlessly. As per usual, her oversized designer glasses are on and she gives Audrey a smile before blowing a kiss.

Billie’s story starts off with the same boomerang of their mimosas. Next is a video that begins with a view of the private beach. She slowly turns around and you see Audrey lounging on the same partially submerged chair in the sun shelf section of the pool. Their private villa stands proudly in the background and looks perfect. Then you hear her purr from behind the camera, “Hey sugar.”

Audrey wears a maroon-colored bikini that you and Billie convinced her to get shortly after you first met them. The actress was nervous that it would reveal any signs of aging she has, but both of you assured her she would look beautiful and Audrey does. She definitely looks like a stunning model. The only other thing she wears is her own designer sunglasses with a cat-eye shape to them.

She giggles at Billie’s words and playfully makes a small splash with her foot towards the woman filming. You hear Billie’s rich chuckle in the background and the next part of her story is a link to an Instagram post.

So you click on it and see it’s a photo of them kissing each other, perfectly lit by the sunset. Then you read the lengthy description alongside it:

“I’m not one to get too sentimental, but this lovely woman deserves this and more. So here you go, sweetheart: The first time we met I instantly knew you were special and ever since then I’ve realized how extraordinary you really are. You’ve been my rock, my number 1 cheerleader, a shoulder to cry on, someone to laugh with, and the best partner I’ve ever had. I love you to the moon and back and then some. I’m so glad we finally have the time to take a true vacation together. I am yours completely until the end of time.”

Your eyes smart with tears, causing the makeup artist to ask, “Is something irritating your eyes? I can remove it and start over.” You come back to reality and clear your throat before replying, “No, it’s just my allergies being difficult today. But thank you.”

Honestly you wish you could have a moment to let out your emotions. But you have work to do. So you focus on channeling those emotions into your stunts.

However, when rehearsing one of your fights with your brother, you slam him down on the mat hard enough to knock the wind out of him.

Right away you gasp and say, “I’m so sorry Asher. Are you ok?” He takes your extended hand and you help him up while he replies, “I’m good. But you may want to lighten up your Hulk smashes.”

Normally you would laugh or even smile at his teasing, but your eyes glaze over and you feel your bottom lip quivering to keep your emotions in check. That reaction makes him get serious and he asks in a lower voice, “Hey, what’s wrong, squirt?” You sniff back your tears and shake your head while replying, “It’s nothing.” He goes to say more, however the stunt director calls you back to your places.

Fortunately, you wrap up earlier than yesterday, but you feel even more worn down from both your physical activity and keeping your emotions in check. And to make matters worse, you see Billie texts you about calling tonight.

The notification goes off at the same time you and your brother are walking out to your cars and he playfully nudges you while teasing, “Your boyfriend texting you?”

Normally you would tease back, but in your aggravation, you shove him back and snap, “Will you just leave that alone?!”

He holds up his hands and cautiously replies, “My bad.” Then he keeps a little further away from you. Right away you feel horrible and when he moves to go to his car you plead, “Wait.”

He pauses, looking to you and you say with a thick voice, “I’m sorry, Ash. Today just hasn’t been the best for me. But I didn’t mean to snap at you.” He gives you a small smile and responds, “Hey, we all have shitty days. I just figured you were upset at everything and everyone.”

Then his smile widens, and he jokes, “Also I didn’t want to get my ass handed to me again.” That makes you giggle, and he joins in before telling you, “I’ll see you tomorrow, squirt.” You tell him goodbye and walk over to your own car.

Once you’re inside and seated in the driver’s seat you text Billie that you’re free to call. Less than a minute later you see her caller ID. So you take a deep breath to center yourself and answer, saying, ��Hello?”

Billie’s warm voice responds, “Hey, babygirl. How are you holding up?”

Should you tell the truth? No. You don’t want to ruin their vacation. You said you would be fine and you’re going to sound fine. They deserve to have a break from the world and you’re going to grant them that.

“Darling?” Audrey says, drawing your attention. You clear your throat and reply, “Sorry. I’m just a little tired from work. But I’m doing alright. How is Hawaii? It looks beautiful from the pictures I’ve seen.”

Audrey is the first one to respond, chirping, “Oh it is beautiful. I mean, I don’t think it gets better than this. The weather is perfect, the villa is gorgeous, and the food—oh my god, It’s the best I’ve ever ate—”

Billie cuts in and says, “We would love to take you here sometime, honey.” Then the actress pipes up, “Oh yes! And we could show you the best restaurants, the cutest shops, and more. Everything's amazing.”

While you want to be the supportive girlfriend, tears sting at your eyes once again. So, you swallow the lump of emotions in your throat and try to say in a neutral voice, “I’m so happy for you both. You definitely deserve this vacation.”

Right away both women hear the tremor in your voice, but Billie shakes her head when Audrey silently gestures if she should ask about it.

Then the medium tests the waters by asking, “Besides working, do you have any other plans, sweetheart?” You try to shove the tears that spill out back into your eyes with your fists while you answer, “Honestly I’ll need a day or two to recover from this job. Otherwise I’ll probably do stuff around the house.”

By now, you’ve got yourself composed enough to joke, “So if you have a honey-do list I’ll have time to take care of it.” But it doesn’t sound like your normal voice even to you. Audrey leans closer to the phone as if desiring to give you a hug and encourages, “Well make sure to take care of yourself, darling. Don’t push yourself too much.”

You wipe your nose with a leftover napkin from a fast food run you made at some point trying to not make a sound. Then you ask, “What about you both? What are your plans?”

Both women make eye contact and hesitate for a moment. However, Billie slowly answers, “Tomorrow we’re taking a boat ride around the area. My friend owns a yacht and offered to take us. And the next day we’re planning to spend part of the day looking around at the local marketplace. The last two days are open to either just relax at the villa or go out and do something.”

You hold your head in your hand that doesn’t hold the phone and remind yourself that this week isn’t about you.

You need to be supportive.

Your forehead feels heavy against your palm as you tell them, “It sounds like a great time. I’m sure you’ll have so much fun. I-I think I’m going to say goodnight. I’ve had this massive headache all day and it’s flaring up right now. Sorry.”

Immediately Audrey gasps and asks, “It’s not from the stunts, is it? Did you hurt yourself at all? Should you go to the doctor?”

You can’t help but smile at her concern for you and you realize you feel envious, but also you just miss having your girlfriends around.

“No, I didn’t get hurt. I think it’s a caffeine headache or I’ve probably had too much sugar. But I just took medicine so I should be alright in an hour or so.”

Billie soothes, “Well we hope you get feeling better soon, babygirl. We’ll talk to you later.” You collect yourself enough to reply in your usual voice, “Thanks. I’ll talk to you later.” Then Audrey quickly says, “We love you, y/n.” That feels like a punch to your gut and you wonder how you can be so selfish. You quickly reply, “Love you too.” Hanging up before you start crying…

Audrey lets out a sigh and asks, “Did we do something wrong?” Billie looks to her phone as if hoping it will give her the answer before responding, “No…I think she’s just feeling a little lonely. I mean, if her and I took a vacation while you worked or if I was the one working it wouldn’t exactly be easy.”

The actress runs her fingers through her short hair before muttering, “Shit. But what should we say? I mean we have been working hard and this was set up before we even met y/n—”

Billie comes over to sit beside Audrey and cuts her off with a kiss. She reflexively responds to the medium, melting against her chest and opening herself up completely.

After a moment, Billie breaks the kiss and leans her forehead against Audrey’s before murmuring, “We’ll just give it some time. She’s tired from work. But I’m sure she’s doing alright.” Audrey softly replies, “Ok.” Then they get ready for their evening swim, electing to skip on wearing swimsuits…

After getting so emotional the day before, you choose to turn your phone off for your last day on set. Honestly you need to keep your full attention on the stunts today.

Your first one is to jump off the top of a 15-story building while pulling a gun out of the holster on your hip to shoot up at the people on the roof. Between coordinating the jump, the fall, and you pulling out the gun, it takes at least 5 times of you doing the stunt.

Next you are shooting at people behind you as you run and jump off of the edge of the building to grab onto one of the landing skids of a helicopter before climbing into it.

That’s a complicated maneuver in itself, but you also have to do the whole thing while people are shooting at you. You don’t keep track of how many times you do that one, but it’s enough to drain nearly all your energy. And you still have one stunt left.

For this one you have to climb out of the passenger side window to get to the dash of the car. Then you hop onto the back of the car in front of you. That’s not too difficult, but you have to do all of this while the cars are moving at 70 mph. And the car you were on explodes behind you so you need to have a good grip on the car’s roof.

But you love every minute of doing these stunts. The challenge and adrenaline rush are incomparable to anything else you’ve experienced.

When the director calls a wrap for the day, both you and your brother stagger over to hair and makeup. Even though he wasn’t in every scene you were, he did some additional scenes that you weren’t in. So both of you let out a groan when you sit in the chairs making you laugh, but also groan at your sides being sore and you laugh even more at how pathetic you sound.

After recovering, your brother asks, “You got any plans for tomorrow? Maybe we can catch up without fighting each other or filming life-threatening stunts?” You let out another chuckle, but hiss at your soreness before answering, “I’m available” So you decide where to meet for lunch and say goodbye for the night…

That evening while you take an ice bath you look over the texts you missed from Billie and Audrey as well as their Instagram stories to distract you from the biting cold.

You know it will help in the long run, but ice baths are the worst.

Both of them show off the private yacht with different selfies and videos on their stories. And one of the pictures shows them both standing next to the railing so you can see the beautiful scenery behind them. Audrey is tucked so perfectly into Billie’s side, resting a hand on the arm that isn’t wrapped around her waist to keep her close to the medium.

Billie faces Audrey and dips her head so the tips of their noses touch and both women unabashedly smile at each other.

While your chest pangs because you’ve never seen them look that happy with you around, you’re still emotionally spent from the day before and you feel too sore to overthink it.

They send you a text telling you goodnight and you tell them goodnight, but that’s basically all of the interaction you have. And you feel guilty for being relieved that more wasn’t said. And yet, you desire so much more…

When you see your brother dressed in casual clothes and cleaned up, he looks quite different. He must think the same thing because he teases, “Well, you clean up pretty nice, kid.” You roll your eyes and playfully retort, “You look…acceptable.”

At that time the waiter comes to get your orders and after they’re gone, you decide to not beat around the bush, asking,

“Ok…how upset is Mom about me not calling?”

He grins and jokes, “On a scale of one to ten, you almost at Michael’s level.” That makes you snort and reply with a dramatically innocent tone, “No way. I’m her favorite.”

This time he snorts and banters, “Yeah. Her favorite girl.” You mockingly laugh before sticking out your tongue.

After taking a sip of water, Asher says, “But really, I would call them. They’re used to Michael ignoring them. But you’ve never been this disconnected before.”

You do feel guilty about neglecting your parents. But the past couple months you’ve spent every waking moment getting to know Billie and Audrey. Well…that and you didn’t know how to explain your relationship without causing panic.

You nod in understanding and assure him, “I’ll call them.” Then you smile a little as you inquire, “Speaking of Mike, have you heard anything from him? Is he still in law school?”

Your brother lets out a sigh and pinches the bridge of his nose when he replies, “As far as I know. But I haven’t spoken with him for, hell, six months. So who knows”

The both of you continue to talk about Michael attending law school and Jared getting a master’s degree in business. At one point, your food comes, and you continue to converse about family and future gigs as you eat. However, when you finish off your meal, Asher says, “Don’t kill me, but do you really have a boyfriend? I won’t get upset or anything. I’m just curious.”

You would rather be truthful with him now than have him tell his assumptions to your parents. So you take a deep breath and reply, “I don’t have a boyfriend,” then you avert your eyes, wringing your hands under the table as you continue,

“But I…I have a girlfriend. Well…technically two girlfriends.”

Your whole-body burns, and you keep quiet, bracing yourself for the worst. However, he calmly says, “Hey squirt,” You look up to see him smiling and he soothes, “I’m not mad at you. That’s not something that I would necessarily do. But it’s your life and as long as no one’s getting hurt you can do whatever the hell you want.”

You’re both shocked and grateful he doesn’t harshly judge your decision and you let out a breath of relief before saying, “Oh thank god.” But you grow serious and plead, “Please don’t tell Mom and Dad—”

He chuckles and assures you, “My lips are sealed.” And you let yourself relax back into the chair, feeling like a weight is lifted off of your chest. Meanwhile your brother finishes off his water before asking, “What’s their names? I may know them.”

You bite your lip, but slowly answer, “It’s Billie Dean Howard and Audrey Tindall.” His eyes widen and he asks, “Like…the celebrities Billie Dean Howard and Audrey Tindall?”

You stiffen up again and slowly nod, nervous about where he’s going with this.

His next question is, “Weren’t they a couple already?”

You look down to your fidgeting hands and defend, “But they’ve welcomed me in.” When you do look back up, your brother frowns and his eyes look like your mother’s when she is about to cry. Then he says in a softer tone, “Y/n. That’s a publicity stunt.”

Your heart drops to your stomach and you recoil away from him while saying, “No. They—They’ve said they love me. And they even let me move into their home.” His eyes soften even more, and he gently speaks as if not wanting to startle a feral animal,

“When does their tv special premier with Audrey starring and Billie being the inspiration?”

Your eyes well up with tears and you whimper, “Next week.”

He pauses a moment before saying, “Having you around will draw attention. And in Hollywood, any publicity is good publicity.” Tears being to slip down your cheeks as you shake your head and deny, “No Asher. You don’t understand. They’ve been so loving and supportive. They wouldn’t do that to me.”

He holds out his hand and asks, “Aren’t they in Hawaii right now?”

You nod and say, “They had this planned 6 months ago before I met them. And I had work anyways.” He gestures for you to take his hand and your trembling hand does take his.

Then he gives it a small squeeze and murmurs, “Both women have millions of dollars to their name and you’re telling me there’s no way they could find a way for you to join them? Y/n, they managed to convince their old friend that’s more like an acquaintance to take them out on her private yacht.”

You want to cry and scream along with a whole range of other emotions at one time. Your tears begin to fall faster when you whimper, “But they told me they love me. They’ve told me things they haven’t told anyone else. They’ve always treated me well.”

You brother gently shushes you and lets go of your hand to give you a napkin to wipe your eyes with. Then he soothes, “I could be wrong. But this kind of thing happens all the time. It’s nothing personal and they probably did enjoy your company.”

A hiccup of a sob escapes you and you feel like you’re going to throw up as you can’t help but wonder if he really is right. You settle yourself before making too much of a scene in the restaurant and he murmurs, “I’m sorry, squirt. I didn’t mean to upset you like that. Maybe you should go to the source and ask.”

By now you’re filled with numbness and rejection as you dumbly nod.

Your brother pays the bill and when you get to your cars, he pulls you into a bearhug, murmuring, “I’m sorry, kid. But if you need anything at all and I mean anything, I’m just a text or phone call away.”

By now you feel on autopilot from shock and flatly answer, “Thanks.” Then you head to their home and the whole car ride you feel unnaturally calm as everything begins to make sense now.

You know you shouldn’t, but you do look at their Instagram stories partially out of curiosity and partially to hate-watch when you get home.

Billie’s comes up first and it’s a picture of Audrey asleep and cuddled under the covers. The medium added the text “My sleeping beauty” and Audrey does look beautiful with her hair tousled just right and her face perfectly relaxed.

The next segment is a boomerang showing the busyness of the marketplace.

Then she has a video that begins with her front facing camera as she takes a sip from a colorful cocktail. After she flips the camera so you can see Audrey sitting across from her. Billie slides the drink towards the middle of the table while saying, “Try this.”

Audrey’s eyes narrow a little, but she slowly slides the drink towards her and takes a cautious sip. Right away her eyes widen, and she takes another sip before saying, “This is delicious!” making Billie laugh.

The last thing in her story is a picture of their hands intertwined with each other on the beach.

Audrey’s story is next and begins with a video of her in front of a large mirror. You can see Billie’s reflection in the mirror as she finishes applying her lipstick. And when she straightens up Audrey looks to her and they share a brief kiss. The text with the video says, “A makeup tutorial for that freshly kissed look on your lips.”

The second thing is a photo of Audrey holding Billie’s hand from behind as the medium guides her through the bustling market.

Finally, there is a boomerang of her kissing Billie’s cheek while Billie’s designer sunglasses reflect the gorgeous sunset and her lips sport a proud smirk.

Your heart aches at seeing them so happy without you. And you get mad at yourself for taking some pleasure in seeing their faces. That’s when you see Audrey posted a photo.

The pair stands in front of the same mirror as the one in her video. But in this one, Audrey stands in the center and Billie is behind her, wrapping both of her arms around the actress’s waist to land on her middle. Audrey grins at their reflection while Billie looks to where she places a kiss in the crook of Audrey’s neck.

You look to the photo’s caption and read,

“After my darling girlfriend posted something so nice and thoughtful, I figured I would return the favor. Billie I’ve never met someone like you. I knew the moment we talked that we shared a special connection. And we still do. I’m so honored to portray you in your upcoming tv special. You’ve made me a better person and the connection we have is unmatched. I love you more than words can express, but I thought I would try to give you a glimpse of my adoration with these words. I love you, Billie Dean Howard.”

She’s never met someone like Billie…their connection is unmatched…oh god Asher was right. You are just a pawn in their game of chess to use when it’s convenient. You’re expendable.

A broken sob escapes your throat and you crumble to the kitchen floor wondering how you could be so stupid. Your phone lights up in your hand, so you pick it up and see in between tears it’s a text from Audrey. Just seeing her name makes you cry harder while also getting infuriated at being so used.

You open your messages to see she texted,

How’s LA holding up? Still smoggy? The sky is so clear here I swear we can see every star out there. It’s crazy to think we’re both under the same stars. 💖

You laugh as you continue to weep, thinking about Audrey texting you about the stars while you’re leaning against cabinet doors as support while you break down on the kitchen floor. Then you text back,

That is crazy. LA is still standing and covered in smog as usual.

After sending that you lean back against the cabinet doors, overwhelmed with small sobs and hiccups as the implications of their “love” settle over you.

Where would you even go? Your brother could help, but still. And what if they’re upset when you end things? They could ruin your career before it even begins.

Your fists roughly rub your eyes while you angrily mutter, “How could I be so stupid? I’m such an idiot. Two A-list celebrities interested in me? Get real.”

Your tearful monologue that’s broken up by sporadic sobs is interrupted by your phone lighting up. Against your better judgement you unlock your phone to see Billie texted this time asking,

Have you been keeping up with us on Instagram? There’s some pictures on there we didn’t text you.

This time your choked laugh turns into an anguished cry. You’re beyond words so you yell at the world, banging your fist into the cabinet door while you cry. But all that does is make your hand hurt and your throat sore. So you take a shuddering breath and shakily text back,

Of course. 😘 I’m glad to see you two so happy. It makes my heart happy. ❤️

By now you’ve made it back down to small hiccups and see Billie’s texted back,

You’re always so supportive. 🥰 We were talking about going out sometime next week to wherever you want. There may be paparazzi, but we’ll make sure to have security.

You can’t help but chuckle at how accurate your brother’s prediction really was. Then you mindlessly text back,

Sounds good. I hope you have a good rest of your vacation.

Audrey is the one who replies this time with

Thank you, darling. We’ll wish you a goodnight. Love you. 💕

You recoil at those last two words and your emotions rush back to the surface. So you quickly text back,

Love you too.

Even if it will compromise your future career you need to get out of here.

So you call your one life-line. Your brother answers in a groggy voice, “Hello?” You whimper, “Sorry for waking you up Ash. But I wondered if—”

However, your throat catches and you start to cry. You say between sniffs, “You were right about them. C-Could I stay with you for a couple nights?”

Your crying wakes him up and he calmly replies, “Of course. Y/n take a couple deep breaths. You’re hyperventilating.” It’s only then that you realize it. You take a couple deep,shuddering breaths and he says, “How about you pack up what you can and come over tonight?” You sniff and answer, “O-ok.” So he says he’ll see you in a little bit.

After saying goodbye, you pull out your suitcase and stuff your clothes and knickknacks scattered throughout the house. Then you put any remaining items into your duffle bag and backpack.

As you pass through the house and take specific clothing items of theirs out of your own wardrobe, you continue to cry and feel like your heart is being ripped apart.

Walking out of the door makes you feel a painful finality, but you don’t go back, loading up your car with all of your belongings and driving to your brother’s apartment…

You manage to bring everything in one trip and when you knock on the door, your brother opens to see your eyes that are swollen from crying and broken expression. Immediately he says, “Oh, y/n.” and you crumble into his outstretched arms, whimpering into his shirt, “I’m such an idiot.”

Asher rubs your back and soothes, “You’re not an idiot. I’ve made mistakes too. How about we get your stuff in here.”

Your brother helps you carry your stuff into the darkened apartment before leading you to sit on the couch. You were nervous that your brother would reprimand you or chastise you for acting so rash. But he holds you in his familiar bear hug and soothes, “It’s ok, kid. This isn’t your fault.” By the time you’re settled to small sniffles, you can’t hardly keep your eyes open.

He seems to notice and says, “I’ll tuck you in and we can talk about it later.” You’re shocked at his kindness once again as he pulls a blanket over you. Then he murmurs a soft goodnight and you fall asleep within seconds, too exhausted to care anymore about everything that’s happened…

The next day you’re awakened by the door shutting and your eyes feel raw and sensitive from yesterday when you open them to see it’s daylight out. The beaming sun makes you sit up to see your brother kicking off his shoes with a couple grocery bags and a case of your favorite soda.

When he turns to see you up, he gives you a smile and says, “Morning, squirt.” Your voice is hoarse from crying when you ask, “What time is it?”

He slides the case of soda into the fridge while answering, “Just past 11:00.” That makes your eyes widen and you admonish, “Why didn’t you wake me up?” Your brother closes the fridge and looks at you from the kitchen answering, “Y/n, you called me at 12 in the morning and by the time you actually were laid out on the couch it was nearly 2. And who knows how long you had been crying.”

Then he walks over with the grocery bags and tells you, “I got your favorite chips and cookies. Also, I thought I remembered you liking this candy and homemade popcorn.” As he sets the items down, your lip trembles so you bite down on it, overwhelmed at his kindness.

After calming down enough to speak you rasp, “Why are you doing all of this? I wouldn’t be upset if you left me alone. You don’t have to pamper me.”

He sits next to you and drapes and arm over your shoulders before tugging you close so your head leans on his shoulder as he replies, “Because you’re my little sis and you just had your heart broken.”

Then he pauses for a beat before teasing, “Also it was this or killing them and I can’t afford the plane ticket.”

That makes you exclaim his name and shrug his arm off of you before giving it a punch. Your brother holds up his hands in mock surrender and defends, “Kidding!” Then he rubs the place you punched him while grumbling, “You didn’t have to go all beast mode on me, Hulk. I’m still recovering from being practically body slammed into another dimension.”

You smirk in satisfaction but get distracted by the throbbing in your hand and look down to see your knuckles are swollen and have gnarly darkened bruises covering them. Asher looks too and comments, “Now I know that didn’t come from one punch. What did you do, Beat someone up?”

Your face burns at the memory and you mumble, “No. Last night, when I was crying…I punched a cabinet door…multiple times.”

Your brother tries to stifle his laughter but fails miserably and jokes, “If your hand looks this rough, I’d hate to see how beat up the door is.” You turn away to hide your grin and retort, “Shut up.” He continues to laugh when he stands up and tells you, “I’ll get an icepack. You pick out something to watch.”

While he’s rummaging around in the kitchen you turn on the tv and scroll through one of his streaming subscriptions. However, your search halts when you see your phone light up.

Before you can think your phone is in your hand and you see your group chat has 15 messages. So you open it to see they sent you some pictures before asking about you.

Maybe…Maybe they do ca—

Your brother cuts off your thoughts, asking, “Is that them?” You whip around in surprise and admit, “Yeah. They asked about my day.”

He comes around to the front of the couch and hands you the ice pack before sitting beside you and advising, “I wouldn’t respond.”

You must look skeptical because he explains, “Breakups are kind of like taking off band aids. While it’s painful to just rip it off in one go, the pain is gone much faster than trying to slowly peel it off.” It breaks your heart, but you know it’s the truth. So you set your phone to the side and pick out a movie, icing your hand while eating your favorite snacks…

“Billie, she still hasn’t answered any of our texts or calls.”

If the medium had a cigarette she would be smoking it. Hell, she’d probably be through most of the pack by now. Instead she chomps on multiple pieces of mint flavored gum while pacing the room.

Audrey’s words make her pause and she theorizes, “Maybe she’s just really busy.” The actress half-heartedly agrees, but both women don’t believe that’s the case.

As a last-ditch effort, Audrey picks up her phone and says, “I’ll call her one more time.” As expected, it goes to your voicemail so she pleads, “Y/n, darling, if you could give us a call, we would appreciate it. Billie and I are worried about you not responding. So, if you could call or text either one of us that would be great. Love you.”

Those last words make you whimper when you hear them on your voicemail. Asher had gone to bed an hour ago and while you had promised you would ignore their call, you made the mistake of listening to their voicemails.

After listening to Audrey’s, you tap on Billie’s voicemail from earlier and hear her say, “Babygirl, I don’t know if you’ve been busy, but Audrey and I are concerned about you. If you get a chance to call us that would put our minds at ease. We love you and miss you so much.”

Maybe you were wrong…Your heart feels torn between your girlfriends’ words and your brother’s words. You just need some time to think. You’re already moved out anyways.

The next day your brother convinces you to spend the afternoon at Venice Beach for a little distraction. So you eat a late lunch and casually browse the local shops before ending up at the beach to watch the sunset.

On the other hand, Billie and Audrey have to take a taxi from the airport to their home and feel flabbergasted at your behavior. You seemed so happy earlier this week. Now it’s like you’ve dropped off the face of the world.

But the women go into a full-blown panic when they don’t see you or any of your personal items. This time Billie does have a cigarette to smoke and Audrey weeps while texting you,

Y/n please text us. All of your stuff is gone, and we have no idea why. We just want to talk so we can understand what changed.

You read the message to your brother and he admits, “I mean, it is true. But do you feel in a healthy place to talk to them?” You know you probably shouldn’t, but in your heart, you do want to talk to them.

So you nod and mutter, “I’m sorry.” Asher shakes his head and assures you, “Don’t be, squirt. This may bring more closure to the whole thing.” So you take a deep breath before texting back, “Ok. What time should I come over?”

Audrey lets out a sob of relief and exclaims, “Bill! She said she’ll come over!” The medium rushes over to read the text to confirm it’s real and not just a figment of their desperation. Then she takes the cigarette out of her mouth and suggests, “Say noon and we can have lunch together.”

So they ask you over for lunch and you agree, feeling a little excited to see them. At the same time, you feel nervous about confronting them, but you know they deserve an explanation…

The next morning you fix your hair in the mirror, trying to conceal your trembling hands from your brother. Fortunately, he’s occupied with the video game he plays. So you pick up your purse while stating, “I’m heading out.”

That makes him pause the game and he looks over to you when he encourages, “You’ve got this, y/n. And if you need me, I’m a phone call away.” You thank him with a small smile and walk to your car, getting in and starting to drive before you talk yourself out of going.

By the time you pull into their driveway, you feel physically ill. There is no way you can eat anything. Your whole-body trembles as you walk up to the door and you want to run away more than anything. But you press the doorbell and know you need to deal with this in order to move on.

Billie is the one to answer and if there is a perfect type of suntan, Billie has it in addition to the natural highlights in her hair from vacation. She gives you a polite smile and says, “Hello, honey.”

Right away you want to fall to your knees and beg for forgiveness. But you make yourself keep standing and stutter, “H-hi.”

The medium lets you in and murmurs, “Audrey’s in the kitchen.” You cross your arms over your chest, feeling like the space you had gotten used to living in is foreign. Billie leads you to the kitchen where you see Audrey sitting at the table.

The actress is decent enough to give you a half smile, but the tension in the room is thick enough to cut with a knife. You try to be amiable and say, “Hello.”

Her eyes are shadowed when she replies, “Hi.” In the higher tone she uses when she’s annoyed but has to keep face.

You flinch at the tone and look to the floor, your shoulders slumping forward and you cross your arms even tighter. Billie attempts to smooth things over when suggesting, “Well lunch is ready to eat—”

But you cut her off by saying, “Can we talk? I mean…I don’t think I can make myself eat right now and I-I think I should explain things.”

Audrey scoffs and Billie walks over to her while gently warning, “Audrey,”

But the actress looks at you with her bottom lip trembling as she says, “Maybe you could enlighten us as to why you just stopped responding to our texts and calls. Or how you left us stranded at the airport. Do you even realize how much we care about you? The whole time we were worried if something happened to you. And you couldn’t just respond to us once?”

By now your fists are clenched by your sides and your nostrils flare as you fire back, “Oh, I’m sorry I wasn’t at your beck and call us usual. Maybe I realized what I really am to you both.”

Billie’s brows furrow and she asks, “What are you talking about?”

That makes your body steam with anger and you let out a humorless laugh before retorting, “You don’t need to keep up the act anymore. My brother told me all about what this is. All I am is some publicity stunt to promote your own careers and I was stupid enough to fall for it hook, line, and sinker!”

Audrey goes to speak, but now you are heated, and tears begin to fall out of your eyes as you yell, “I loved you! I trusted you and gave my heart to you entirely! And what do I get? Seeing my girlfriends living it up on some private beach. I saw your Instagram posts. Every single one.”

Then you look to Billie and continue, “I saw your post about Audrey being the best partner you’ve ever had!”

Then you look to Audrey and have to lower your voice so it’s less hoarse, but keep aggressive when you say, “I saw your post too. Including the description of your connection being unmatched. I saw every fucking thing.”

“I wanted to be the chill girlfriend who couldn’t be bothered. But it turns out I’m a dumb ass who would never even have a chance to be your girlfriend in the first place!”

The room goes quiet except for Audrey’s sniffing and your own from crying. Billie wipes away a stray tear with her thumb as the actress whimpers, “Y/n, others may do different things for publicity. But I swear on everything that’s not what you are to us. We love you so much.”

Then Billie says, “We regret not bringing you with us. That was unfair to put you in that position and I’m sorry your brother saw the problem with that before we did. Audrey is right though. We love you so much. If you could give us a second chance, I know we could learn from this and have an even closer relationship. But if you don’t want to, we’ll understand too.”

You have never, ever seen them this emotional and there’s no way this reaction could be ingenuine. You may not know all about them, but you do know those are expressions of heartbreak. And if this really was a publicity stunt, surely they would have let you walk out by now. But you need to make sure.

Your eyes brim with tears and you rasp, “Y-you promise this isn’t a publicity thing? I’m not being used?”

Immediately Audrey shakes her head and assures you, “No. We would never ever do that to you, y/n. Everything we have said or done with you is always genuine.” Your lips tremble as you look between them and you pause for a moment.

But you know what your heart wants. So you run over to them.

Immediately both women wrap their arms around you to hug you close and you cry, “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I’m so, so sorry.”

Both women shush your apologies and one of them presses a comforting kiss to your temple while the other keeps you from collapsing in their arms. Then Billie soothes, “You don’t need to apologize, babygirl.”

Just being in their embrace provides a comfort that you have pined for since they left. The sense of safety and comfort flows through their touch and permeates to your core.

They hold you close and murmur soothing words of their own apologies while you calm back down. After waiting a couple minutes from the time you only make small sniffles, Audrey slowly asks, “Does this mean we can have a group cuddle session on the couch now?”

Her suggestion makes you smile against Billie’s blouse which feels wonderfully smooth against your face and you nod in agreement. So each woman moves to take one of your hands and you walk to the living room.

Once there, Billie pulls out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. Audrey gives her a look, but Billie puts one in her mouth, so she sounds funny keeping the cigarette in between her teeth while saying, “Listen. I’ve earned this cigarette.”

The actress can’t deny that, so she keeps quiet as Billie lights up the cigarette.

After taking a long drag, the medium lets out a sigh and visibly relaxes, rolling her shoulders back and stretching her neck. Then she brings over an ashtray and places it on the side table closest to her. Meanwhile Audrey sits towards the middle of the couch.

You sit next to her and Billie sits on your other side and the end of the couch. Once all 3 of you are seated, Billie takes the cigarette out of her mouth and purrs with a warm smile, “Come here you two.”

You snuggle up into her side so you practically sit on her lap, not bothered by the smoky scent. Then Audrey scoots close to you and wraps her arms around your middle to get even closer before burying her nose into the soft juncture between your head and shoulder to inhale your distinct scent.

The medium chuckles at how close you are when you have a whole couch to spread out on while letting out a puff of smoke. But she loves it, asking, “Feel cozy, darling?”

You nod and answer, “Yeah.” Honestly you forgot how nice this is, but your body has the muscle memory and like riding a bike you easily adjust and melt into them.

After a moment, Audrey cautiously asks, “Would you be upset if we watched some tv, love?”

It sounds nice to be distracted from your rollercoaster of emotions for a little bit, so you tell her it’s okay and she turns it to some home improvement show. Before long, she’s providing a running commentary about the design choices and things begin to feel like before.

You didn’t know this was possible, but you manage to melt into them even more, practically purring at being so cozy between their warm, inviting bodies. After she finishes off her cigarette, Billie uses her free hand to gently scratch the base of your neck, taking care to not get her fingers tangled in your hair. The sensation makes you feel all warm and tingly and you look to the medium’s honey eyes, hoping she can see how good you feel.

The medium gives you a knowing smile and softly asks, “Do you feel better, sweetheart?” You nod, looking down to conceal your demure smile while Audrey scoffs and mutters, “I can’t believe they went with a galley kitchen when they have plenty of room for an open concept. That would have looked so much better.”

Billie shares a smile with you about Audrey’s reactions. Meanwhile the actress has her feet propped up on the plush ottoman in front of the couch and leans against you, mindlessly brushing her fingers up and down the top of your thigh.

Your phone vibrates in your pocket, so you move to pull it out to see it’s your brother. His text message says, “You ok, squirt?”

Billie takes the opportunity to lightly nibble on your earlobe. You let out a giggle at the feeling and duck away, but don’t go too far. The medium chuckles and asks, “Do you feel ok, babygirl?” You look over her face and don’t feel any of the earlier insecurities you had earlier. So you answer, “I do.”

Then you bite your lip unsure how to phrase it. But you try to, starting, “I want to apologize about earlier. I was being insecure and didn’t consider you both—”

“If you start apologizing one more time, I will give you something to occupy your mouth.” Audrey warns, cutting you off. That makes you turn to see the actress’s attempt at a serious expression although her lips twitch in an attempt to keep from smiling.

You decide to play along, raising your eyebrows when you tease, “You honestly think you could top me again?”

That makes her eyes widen and she replies more as a question, “Yes?”

Billie chuckles from the other side and murmurs, “Oh Audrey, I think we’ve got ourselves a switch.” Her cheeks turn bright red and she bites her lip.

You grin and look down to your phone, texting back, “I’m good. We talked and worked things out. I’ll come over tomorrow to explain. Thank you for everything.” Then you tuck your phone back into your pocket and look to Audrey again.

Once you look down at her face you joke, “It’s ok, honey. You’ll only have to submit to both of us sometimes.”

Her mouth gapes while Billie laughs and murmurs, “I like this idea. What about you, Audrey? You think you can handle submitting to 2 women?” The actress lets out a small whimper and nods, clearly turned on by the idea. You smile at her reaction while Billie purrs, “I missed you so much, babygirl. And I think these next couple weeks will be a good time for us to become…reacquainted.”

Now your cheeks warm and you can’t help but smile when you look between their beaming faces. Then Audrey says, “Listen, I hate to ruin the mood, but I am absolutely famished. So could we order some pizza? I desperately need some greasy, American comfort food.”

The comment causes you to snort while the medium assures her, “I’ll order some pizza.” Before you can even think about it, you blurt out,

“I love you both.”

For a moment, all 3 of you go quiet and you wonder if you made a mistake. However, Audrey comes up to your face and gives you a kiss before murmuring, “I love you too, darling.”

Then Billie places one of her fingers under your chin to guide you to face her so she can kiss you. After lingering for a couple seconds, Billie parts and whispers, “I love you too. We love you so much, y/n.”

You bite your lower lip and it is nice to feel your cheeks tight from smiling instead of so many shed tears. The medium shifts so she can see both you and Audrey when she tells you, “Just give me a minute and I’ll have two pizzas on the way with your favorite toppings for my special girls.”

Without planning it, you and Audrey say thank you at the same time, making you both laugh. Billie lets out a sound of amusement while she scrolls through her phone. Once she finds the number, the medium stands up and says, “I’ll be back.” Then she steps into the kitchen to call for the pizza.

You hear her talking smoothly to the person taking your order. However after she hangs up, Billie peeks her head out and asks, “Hypothetically of course…if salad was left out for, say, nearly 5 hours would that still be good?”

You both laugh, only now remembering the intention to eat lunch and you reply, “Unfortunately, the salad is at the point of no return. Hypothetically of course.”

Billie grins and says, “Well the pizza is on the way, so we won’t be without food.” Then she disappears and you hear something being thrown away. Audrey giggles next to you, making you grin and while things aren’t perfect, there is no other place you would rather be.

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litwitlady · 4 years ago

Text

When You Go, Take Me With You

On a warm July morning, Thomas Mann – not his real name, mind you – finds himself hauling ass down 285, praying that the airstream doesn’t come unhitched. Tommy has spent the last 11 months in Santa Fe grifting seniors in assisted living facilities out of their hard-earned nest eggs. But someone’s greedy little grandson finally noticed his grandmother’s savings dwindling away and called the authorities. He’s been riding hard all night and can’t remember the last time he ate. But he’s got a rap sheet three pages long and knows if he gets caught, he’ll never see the light of day again.

Eventually, his stomach wears him down, though, and he stops in Roswell at a kitschy little diner he hopes he can disappear into long enough to satisfy his basic needs. Halfway through his cheese fries, three sheriff’s deputies walk in and as they are chatting with the waitress at the counter, Tommy sneaks out and takes the scenic route back towards his pickup. He can’t really say he’s much surprised to find the actual Sheriff knocking on the airstream’s door. Knowing he’s lost this battle, he decides to cut his losses and run. The old Ford pickup is eventually auctioned off, but the airstream ends up in the impound lot collecting dust for the next year.

And then one day Michael Guerin accidentally illegally parks his truck on the Long farm where he promptly passes out drunk across the bench seat. Daddy Long calls the Sheriff and Michael’s arrested. Again. Max bails him out and drives him over to the Chavez County impound lot to collect his truck. And that’s where Michael Guerin falls in love for the second time in his life. The shiny, silver airstream gleams in the morning sunlight and he’s never seen anything more beautiful. Not in a long while, anyway. He convinces Max to bargain with the county in order to buy the airstream for him. Michael knows they will laugh him out of the precinct, but Max is one of their own. He parts ways with every single penny he’s ever made, but he’s rewarded with the first permanent roof he’s ever had.

Not that Michael expects the trailer to be a permanent thing. After all, no home has ever been forever. Most haven’t lasted longer than a year or so. Besides his truck, of course. The mere idea that the airstream is mobile proves the impermanence of the situation. He can flit from place to ungodly place without settling down with any actual intent. There’s beauty in the nomadic nature of it all. Mostly, he doesn’t have to worry about being rained on any longer or crashing on Isobel’s sofa or cuddling up with Sanders’ dog. So, he’s happy. Content. Proud, even.

The trailer is cramped. The engine is shit. And the toilet is literally two feet from where he lays his head at night. How he convinces any of his hookups to climb into that tiny bed with him is anyone’s guess. There’s been more than one conquest sent home with multiple bruises. Once he burns a piece of toast so badly that he can’t sleep inside for a week. There’s no storage, the floor is lopsided, and Isobel refuses to step inside for two whole years. But hey, nothing’s perfect.

After a year together, Michael and the airstream find a balance that works for them. He covers the windows with old newspaper, adapts to being very, very tidy, and sleeps outside when the claustrophobia sets in. He even fashions a front patio out of some old oak pallets he finds in the junkyard. In return, the trailer gives him privacy, a sense of autonomy, and a place to bring Alex Manes when he returns from his first tour overseas. And every tour after that.

Not that he was looking to bring Alex back to his place, of course. He hadn’t even known Alex was back. And then suddenly, there he is. Laughing with Arturo in the Crashdown. Michael hardly recognizes him with the regulation haircut and newly lean body. He tells himself to walk away, but the universe has other ideas. Alex spots him and his whole face lights up. No one has ever looked at Michael like that and he’s lost all over again.

Over the next decade, the airstream begins to collect memories. Isobel blowing the door open and taking her first steps inside to shout at him that she’s engaged. Max showing up at 3 am like clockwork every year on Liz Ortecho’s birthday because he’s smashed and doesn’t want to hear Iz’s lectures. The Sheriff’s random visits for one reason or another; he suspects she’s spying on him. The brief time he lets an old, senior dog share his space. There’s still dog hair in the many nooks and crannies.

And then there’s Alex.

He’s everywhere - in every corner, every empty inch of space – filling up the entire trailer. Sprawled naked across the narrow bed, one long, gorgeous leg hanging off the side. Standing over the small stove laughing as Michael teaches him how to make the perfect omelet. Two old Air Force t-shirts stashed deep in his closet that Michael will swear up and down he doesn’t know exist. The silly little cartoon of a cowboy he’s scribbled on every single yellowed newspaper taped to the windows. And the one solitary heart drawn in permanent ink right above Michael’s pillow. He’ll never admit how many times he’s traced that doodle and prayed that Alex’s heart is still beating.

Not every memory is happy, however. He and Alex have always fought as hard as they’ve loved. How many times Alex has stormed out, slamming the door behind him. The sound echoing off the trailer’s tinny walls, door hinges growing whinier as the years go by. Tears shed in anger and in desperate sadness every time the Air Force calls him back to some violent conflict a world away. Damn near feral sex fucked out through those same tears. The sun rising over two beaten, broken hearts the next morning. Another goodbye. Another lonely year stretching out into the desert wasteland. And suddenly the airstream feels suffocating and enduring. Set in stone and unmovable as Alex walks away one more time.

In the in-between times, Michael nurses his bruised heart out on Foster’s Ranch, punishing his body with grueling manual labor. He settles the trailer into an anonymous patch of dust and scrub brush. He begins to collect various trailer accoutrement. First, a rusted, used patio set he grabs off someone’s teetering trash pile. Next, a ‘free parking’ sign he finds abandoned on the side of Route 60. On Alex’s next leave, he’ll mark out the ‘free’ and write ‘no’ in its place. Michael will try hard not to overthink the implication. Isobel says he’s nesting, jokes that he should hang up a cross-stitched ‘Home Sweet Home’. Michael begins to panic.

At the end of ten years, he gives up. The airstream is home. There’s no point in denying the most basic fact of his existence any longer. The impermanent is now permanent. He flicks off the tin bucket and then lovingly wipes away some mud caked on the tire well. Love/hate, defined.

He returns to the trailer after another stint in the drunk tank (a home away from home, if you will) to find a uniformed Alex Manes knocking on his door. He knows he shouldn’t be surprised to find him there – Isobel, after all, had been the one to organize his hero’s parade down Main Street. But it’s been two years with no contact – the longest they’ve ever gone – and so when Alex turns to meet his eyes, the breath is knocked right out of him. So begins another cycle of fight or flight. The airstream will play centerstage. He can almost hear the aging trailer sigh.

But this time the cycle ends differently. Michael moves the airstream into the Wild Pony’s parking lot, shocking everyone. Ostensibly to keep Maria DeLuca safe. But really just to be near her energy, her spirit, her laughter. He hopes to love her. He wants to be good for someone, goddammit. But deep down he’s worried he never will be. That he’s about as solid and steady as his home on wheels. Good enough for a little while, but never long enough to last. Always ready to roll off a cliff with the slightest push.

He hates when he’s right.

Maria breaks up with him in a hospital room. The next night he meticulously searches the airstream for anything she might have left behind. A shoe, a bra, some lipstick. But there’s nothing and he feels like the trailer is out to get him, shoving those two old Air Force t-shirts in his face. The tiny, scribbled cowboys serenading him with derisive laughter. The black heart mocking him. And Michael can’t take it anymore. He slams the airstream’s door shut, nearly knocking it off its stupid creaky hinges and calls Isobel, all but demanding she meet him at the Pony. He needs a drink. Maybe several. And a shoulder to brood on. Perhaps he should call Max instead.

Michael doesn’t expect open mic night. He doesn’t expect Alex Manes and his dumb angel voice. He doesn’t expect to be confronted with the one answer he’s always wanted. But home is a tricky business. Especially for an alien stranded in the foster care system on the wrong planet. As Alex sings his song – asking Michael to come home – everything becomes crystal clear. And Michael tries to telepathically tell the airstream to go fuck itself. He’s pretty sure it doesn’t work.

Because here’s the thing. Home can be a person.

The answer has always been that easy and that impossible. And the airstream has always known. Watching all these years as the two of them danced around each other. The ultimate grift. The longest con job this side of the Milky Way. Michael Guerin has been played, marked, and left wanting. His genius brain duped and cheated. The airstream has never been more than a shit engine and lopsided floors.

After Michael leaves the Pony that night, he moves in with Isobel. And he goes to work. On himself – AA meetings, college classes, mending all his relationships with Max, with Maria. With Alex. And on the airstream – gutting the inside and converting the space into an admittedly revolutionary eco-friendly garden greenhouse.

Once the project is finished, he attaches the toe hitch to his Chevy and heads east until he pulls into the Chavez County Children’s Home. The director meets him outside and shakes his hand with tears in her eyes. Michael walks her and several of the children through the garden, excitedly explaining all the vegetables and flowers he’s planted. Isobel arrives to take pictures for the local paper and secretly shed several of her own tears. She watches Michael happily playing with all the kids and teaching them the wonders of composting. Soon, he gives her a kiss on the cheek and climbs back into his truck. He’s got one final stop to make.

As he drives through the center of Roswell, something swells in Michael’s chest. He knows this place so well – has been arrested on nearly every corner. The Crashdown has always welcomed him with a warm meal and silly antennae. New Roswell High – with all its memories, good and bad. The UFO Emporium – or what was the UFO Emporium – with its fake alien displays and empty corners perfect for kissing sweet emo boys with the biggest of hearts. Of all the places to crash land, Roswell hasn’t turned out so bad. It’s truly a stunning conclusion.

When he arrives at his destination, he pulls into the driveway next to Alex’s green Explorer, grabs his two duffel bags, and heads to the front door. He opens the lock with his key and shouts to Alex that he’s home.

#michael guerin #malex #malex fic #i never thought i'd write something michael centric #not sure it works but i tried #so have 2K words and fuck the 4th

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bestillmyslashyheart · 5 years ago

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there’s a new (air)man in town (pt 2/?)

part one

“Why didn’t you tell me you were moving here?” Michael leaned over the table and lined up his shot.

“I figured Alex would’ve and if he didn’t, I thought it might be a nice surprise,” Patrick told him.

Michael didn’t look at him. “Alex and I aren’t exactly talking right now,” he confessed.

“I know,” Patrick replied easily. “He told me. Said you were dating Maria now?” Michael met his eyes briefly before focusing back on the table. “You happy?”

Michael sighed heavily and finally looked at him. “I’m trying to be.”

“Is she helping?”

“Yeah,” Michael smiled. “She is.”

Patrick nodded once. “Okay then. I can’t wait to get to know her.” Michael nodded, a wary look in his eyes. Patrick gamely did not roll his own. “Look, she’s your girlfriend, right? And she’s Alex’s friend. Of course I want to get to know her, man.”

“Yeah, okay.” Michael quickly sunk another ball. Patrick barely glanced at the table, knowing already that Michael was going to win.

“How are you?” Patrick asked. “How’s your brother? Your sister?”

Michael flinched, his cue stick missing the cue ball and smacking the six. “I’m good. They’re good. We’re all-”

“Good?” Michael didn’t seem amused. “Seriously, Michael. I haven’t talked to you in months. What’s going on with you?”

“Nothing.”

“Right,” Patrick said, voice full of mock understand. “Nothing’s going on with you. That’s why you’re not talking to Alex, why you ignored my texts for months, why you smell like you took a bath in some whiskey,” he stepped forward and grabbed Michael’s left hand, “why you’ve been shooting pool like your hand isn’t crushed?” Michael yanked his hand free and Patrick let him. “I’m just worried about you, Michael.”

Michael scoffed. “Don’t be.” He held his arms out. “I’m fine.”

“Hey,” a woman’s voice came from Patrick’s left. It was Alex’s friend Liz. “Mind if I join you guys?” She jerked a thumb over her shoulder. “Maria’s busy and it was getting a little lonely at the bar.”

Patrick smiled warmly. “Sure thing. You can be on my team, help me take Michael down.”

She raised an eyebrow. “You know there’s such a thing as three person pool.”

“Sure,” Patrick agreed. “If you want to lose in one turn.” Liz looked surprised. “Have you never played pool with this guy?” Patrick laughed. “If he’s sober, you’re screwed. If he’s drunk you might get a few turns in.”

Michael scoffed but he was already racking the balls. “I’ll let you break,” he said generously. “Decide which one of you wants to actually have a turn.” Patrick wasn’t sure he was sober enough for that but he wasn’t going to argue. Michael seemed to have gone through a few mood changes just in the short time he’s been here.

Liz waved him on so Patrick broke and sunk the six. He missed the next shot and let Michael play. “So Alex said you’re a scientist?” He turned to Liz. “Something really complicated?”

Liz laughed and nodded. “I specialize in biomedical research, mainly regenerative medicine.”

“That sounds very important,” Patrick paused, “and probably very far over my head.”

“She makes people better,” Michael said from across the table. He and Liz exchanged a look.

“I’m trying,” she allowed. She cleared her throat. “So what about you? You’re here to join Alex’s team?”

Patrick nodded. “Yep. He had an open space on his team and I was up for relocation so it seemed like a perfect fit. Besides, now I finally get to see everything I’ve always heard so much about.”

Liz raised an eyebrow. “Alex talked about Roswell?” Michael missed the last striped ball and she stepped up for her turn. “That doesn’t sound like him.”

“Even Alex Manes gets homesick sometimes,” Patrick told her. “But he mostly talked about you and Maria and Rosa and this bar and your family’s diner more than anything else. He loves you guys a lot.”

Liz smiled. “And we love him.”

Patrick laughed. “Good.” Liz looked at him strangely but he didn’t bother to clarify.

“How long have you known him?” She asked, setting up her second shot.

Patrick had to think about that. “Technically we met ten years ago? But it was only in passing so it doesn’t count. We met in training about eight years ago and somehow agreed to live with each other,” Patrick shrugged. “It worked out and we lived together for almost six years. We were lucky enough to get a second shared posting.”

“They served two tours together, too,” Michael added.

“That’s right,” Patrick nodded. “His first and second.”

Liz looked over at him. “You guys are really close, then.” She smiled apologetically. “Sorry, I’ve just never heard him mention you.”

Patrick didn’t take offense. “He’s not one for sharing, is he?”

“So how do you know Michael?”

“Well like I said, I-” Patrick grunted when Michael’s elbow collided with his diaphragm. He covered the motion by walking in front of him so Liz wouldn’t see. Liz came around the table to their side after missing her shot. Patrick looked at Michael in question, unsure how to answer if Michael didn’t want him telling the truth.

“Guerin!” Someone yelled from across the bar. Michael looked over and nodded before turning back to Liz and Patrick. After a brief hesitation he waved Patrick on.

“I’m gonna get a drink.”

Liz watched him leave. “So?”

“I, uh, I lived with Alex for almost six years,” he repeated.

“So you said,” she looked at him. “Doesn’t explain how you met Michael, though.”

Patrick was confused. “I met Michael when he visited. After a couple of visits we started talking to each other without Alex around to mediate.” He shrugged.

Liz’s eyes were wide with surprise. “Michael visited Alex?”

“Yeah? Did you not know they used to be together?” Patrick would kick himself if he’d blabbed about Alex’s business without his knowledge.

“Yeah, I mean no,” Liz shook her head. “I thought they had a thing in high school.”

“I mean, that’s when they got together,” Patrick blinked. “Look, I’m not comfortable talking about them with you since they clearly haven’t.”

Liz nodded. “Yeah, no, I agree. I guess I just realized I haven’t actually talked to Alex about it.”

Patrick cocked his head. “So you talked to Michael?” That seemed less likely.

“Maria,” Liz replied. “Before she started dating Michael she was really torn up about it because he had a history with Alex. I guess I heard her wrong when she mentioned it.” Patrick hummed but didn’t say anything. “I’ll talk to Alex.”

“Probably a good idea.”

“Hey,” Michael rejoined them. “I was thinking of calling it a night.”

Liz blinked in surprise. “You were?”

Patrick placed his cue stick on the table. “I’ll head out with you. Liz, it was really nice to meet you, I hope we’ll see each other again soon.”

“Yeah, you too,” she smiled. “It was really nice to meet you.”

Michael nodded at her in farewell and they left.

“Isn’t that your Airstream?” Patrick pointed out the silver trailer. He’d heard all about it from both Michael and Alex but he hadn’t known Michael parked it outside the local bar.

“Yup. Maria’s mom went missing and Maria’s worried. She’s been staying here in case her mom finds her way back so I moved it out here to help her keep an eye on the place and so she’s not alone.”

Patrick smiled. “You’re a good guy, Michael Guerin.”

“If you say so.”

“I do,” he clapped a hand on Michael’s shoulder and squeezed. “Now give me a ride back to Alex’s. He dropped me off here.”

Michael stuttered to a halt. “Alex dropped you off?”

Patrick turned to face him. “Yeah. I tried to get him to come in with me but he said he had something to do so he left.”

“And you believed him?” Michael scoffed.

“No,” Patrick met his gaze evenly. “I figured he probably made up an excuse to not have to spend a night with his ex and his friend that’s now dating his ex. I didn’t push it though.” Michael looked away. “Come on. Take me home, Cowboy.”

Michael’s usual “don’t call me that,” was much sharper than usual. Patrick was taken aback before he remembered that he’d only picked the nickname up from Alex.

“Okay, I won’t.”

Michael led the way to his truck and they got in silently. A few minutes went by before Patrick tried his luck again. “What happened to your hand? I thought it was permanent.”

“Miracle cure,” was all Michael said.

Patrick accepted it. “And your family? How are they?”

Michael sighed heavily. “Liz dumped my brother and he responded by running away. It’s been a month and no one’s heard from him. My sister’s husband was killed in a freak lightning storm around the same time so she’s a little bit of a mess.”

“And you?”

“I’m fine.”

“Try again.”

“I’m doing better.”

“Good.” They pulled up to Alex’s house. The man himself was out on the patio, a pad of paper in his hands as he scribbled something down. There were no lights on except for the string of fairy lights and it made Alex’s skin glow. “You know,” he commented lightly. “You’re a terrible liar.”

Michael stiffened. “I am doing better.”

Patrick looked at him. “I believe you.”

“Then what-”

“Where’s your brother, Michael?”

“Patrick.” There was a warning in Alex’s voice that Patrick rarely heard and had never had directed at him. Patrick glanced out the open window to see Alex staring right at them, his pen and paper forgotten in his lap.

“Thanks for the ride, Michael,” he said. “And don’t be a stranger, okay? Next time you ignore my texts, I’m gonna be banging on your door.”

Michael smiled slightly and nodded. “Okay.”

“Okay.”

There was a moment after Patrick got out of the truck where Alex and Michael stared at each other. Neither said a word and finally Michael pulled away.

Patrick fell into a chair with a huff. “Why do I get the feeling I’m going to have to get used to people lying to me?”

The corner of Alex’s lips quirked upwards. “Welcome to Roswell.”

#roswell fic #my fic #malex fic #eventually #rnm #patrick scott

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tefanfics · 5 years ago

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Changes

Chapter 18

My nerves were tearing me apart. I sat in the corner of the sofa in Matthew Vaughn’s trailer and Taron sat on the other side. Matthew was standing in front of us, pacing back and forth. His hands rested on his hips and look of frustration was strong on his face.

“So neither of you have any clue what this photo is about?” Matthew asked as he gestured to hi s laptop sitting on the counter near us.

I waited to see if Taron would say anything. He stayed quiet so I spoke up. “I mean, obviously it’s the two of us,” I started. “We ran into each other at the park. He asked if I wanted to join so I did.”

Matthew stared me down. I hoped to god he didn’t know I was lying. “And the hand holding?”

“I about lost my balance,” Taron chimed in. “Just bumped into her.”

Matthew’s gaze went between Taron and I. “So there’s nothing to worry about here?” He asked,

“Nope. Just friends.” I paused with a shrug. “Truthfully more like acquaintances. This is like what, the third time we’ve actually talked?” I asked Taron as I looked to him before turning my attention back to Matthew. “Any other questions? Or can I go get the cast ready for this scene?”

“Yeah, yeah. Go ahead, Rose. Thanks for your time,” Matthew said as he waved me off. He offered a smile as I stood up and left the trailer.

My heart was racing as I stood outside. I tried to catch my breath before I started walking. I glanced over my shoulder at the trailer, trying to see if Taron would appear. When I didn’t see him, I kept walking. I hurried to the location of the current scene, grabbing my copy of the script and going over things with the cast.

All day I buried myself in the script and anything I was thrown. I tried to keep from focusing on Taron when I could. I could feel his gaze on me, pressing into me the longer I kept myself away from him. Maybe Matthew had been right to be suspicious. Maybe our little escapades to steal kisses weren’t so secret after all. I shook myself out of my thoughts and carried on with the rest of the day.

When they finally wrapped filming for the day, I gathered my things and bid everyone before I began my walk home. The set wasn’t horribly far from my apartment and sometimes the walk home was nice to free my mind.

I put headphones in and grabbed my phone, starting the playlist I had been adding to since Taron and I had started talking. I checked for messages and saw one from the man himself.

See you in a little bit.

I didn’t bother sending a message. I figured by time I had walked home, Taron’s ride would have already dropped him off at my apartment. So instead I let myself get lost in the music as my legs carried me home.

Sure enough when I arrived at the apartment complex, a black car with tinted windows waited by the curb. I got up the steps to the building and opened the door as the car door opened. I heard footsteps on the concrete steps. I didn’t look at him as I made my way to the steps and began to climb them.

Once in the safety of my apartment, I tossed my stuff down and threw off my jacket before falling into the sofa. Taron shut the door and locked it, shrugging off his own jacket.

“Just friends?” He repeated to me. “Acquaintances?”

My gaze was on my hands on my lap. I was anxious. I was worried about my job and if I was jeopardizing things now.

Taron walked in front of me and scooted the coffee table over just a little before kneeling in front of me. He tucked himself between my open legs and grabbed my hands. “I mean, you could’ve fooled me. With all the kisses and sharing my bed…” He teased as he looked at me. Taron took my hands in his and lifted them, kissing them softly.

I forced myself to look at him. “I panicked. I didn’t want you to get in trouble and I was afraid I’d lose the job which meant losing the apartment and going back home,” I blurted. Tears welled in my eyes as I met his. My heart was still pounding in my chest.

“Hey, hey, hey. Shhh. It’s okay,” Taron said quickly. He kissed my hands again as his forearms rested on my legs. “I was just teasing. I promise.” Concern washed over his face as he reached up and wiped the only tear that managed to spill over. “It doesn’t matter though, love. My private life is my own. As is yours.”

I nodded and turned my gaze back to my hands in his. “Okay,” I murmured. “Okay. I’m sorry.”

Taron’s hand rested on my cheek and I leaned into it, shutting my eyes for a moment. “Nothing to sorry for, okay? All you were doing was looking out for us.”

“Us?” I repeated. I tried to fight the little smile that wanted to show but it was a losing battle.

Taron smirked as he watched my expression change. “Yeah. Us.” He grinned at me and now I really couldn’t help but to smile back at him. He stood up and took my hands again, pulling me up beside him. “Do you still feel like going out tonight?”

I bit my lower lip as I contemplated. Finally I gave him a nod. “Yeah, I do. I think some fun is in order.”

“Excellent. I can’t wait for you to meet my best mate.”

“I’ll change first then we can go,” I said before kissing Taron on the cheek.

“You sure?” He asked. “I like the flannel on you.”

I laughed and nodded. “I want to make a good first impression. Me dressing like this is not the best way.”

Taron shrugged, smiling at me. “Well for future reference, the flannel is very sexy.”

I rolled my eyes as I began to walk away, heading to my room. I switched into different jeans. They had two shades of denim- the inside a light blue and a seem down the middle that changed to a dark blue. I pulled a black shirt from my closet. In the light, the black fabric shimmered. The shoulders had cutouts and on the front, the low cut had a mesh lining and three slits across the fabric. I put the shirt on and went to the bathroom, finding my favorite matte red lipstick. I fixed my eyeliner and ran the hairbrush for through my hair before grabbing my burgundy leather jacket and going back to the living room and finding my boots again. I put them on and faced Taron.

“Better?” I asked.

Taron looked up from his phone, a smile slowly growing. His gaze flickered as he looked me over. “Okay that might be better than the flannel.” He quickly stood up and cleared the space between us, kissing me gently. “Almost makes me not want to go. I don’t want to share you.” I had no doubt my cheeks were red at his comment, matching my hair and lips. He leaned down and kissed me again, his hands finding my lower back. I could feel his reluctance as he pulled himself away. “We need to go before I change my mind,” he murmured to me, his voice low.

I nodded and slid my jacket on, grabbing my purse on the way out the door. The same car waited for us out front. The ride didn’t take long before pulling up to our destination. It was a karaoke bar. I had some how been convinced that I was going to sing tonight but I was doubtful. I knew I’d need a lot of liquid courage before that could happen.

Even though we bypassed the line to get in, I could hear the whispers and squeals of people who recognized Taron. Inside was easier to deal with. It was a little crowded but tolerable. Taron guided us to the bar and ordered us drinks before we found his friend at table.

“Jack!” Taron greeted with a grin. “This is Rose.”

“The one you talk about all the time?” Jack retorted before looking at me and holding out his hand. “Nice to meet you.”

“You too!” I answered as I shook his hand. “So all the time, huh?”

“Oh yeah. Doesn’t shut up honestly,” Jack said, laughter in his voice.

“Good to know,” I said with a sweet smile as I looked at Taron. He rolled his eyes as we took a seat at the table. I sipped on my drink and paid attention to the people who were on stage. Some people were honestly pretty good and the song choices, for the most part, were upbeat.

“So, Rose, you’re working on the movie too?” Jack asked.

I nodded. “Yeah! I’m a behind the camera person though. I make sure the continuity is there. That actions match the previous movies or that we have our facts right. That sort of thing.”

“Very cool!”

I grinned and nodded. “I’m loving it so far.”

Taron reached over and grabbed my hand that rested on the table, giving it a little squeeze. “Cast and crew love her. She’s been great,” he added. It almost sounded like he was bragging about me. “We got lucky, I think.” I blushed and took my drink in my hand again as he carried on. “She’s a pretty talented singer too.”

My eyes widened as I shook my head. “I don’t know about all that,” I said quickly. “And one drink is not going to be enough to get me up there to make a fool of myself.”

“And that would be why he ordered shots,” Jack said as a waitress walked to the table with a tray. She sat down nine shots in total. I groaned as Taron slid three of them to me. Jack and Taron both lifted one, so I followed suit. We clinked the little glasses before I downed the mouthful of vodka. It burned as it fell down my throat, leaving me to scrunch my nose and shake my head a little.

Taron laughed at my expression before getting up. He went up to wait his turn to sing. Once on stage, I recognized George Michael’s Faith. I sang along quietly at the table while Taron was up there. Once he came back to his spot, he looked at me and pointed at the stage.

“One shot still isn’t enough.”

Taron smirked and grabbed a second. I sighed and took a second. We repeated the same steps: clink and throw back the drink. The second shot was worse than the first. I could feel the heat already growing on my face. “What’s your song of choice?” Taron asked. “Because don’t have anyone signed up after this song.”

I sighed and looked at the stage, racking my brain for what song I could manage. I jumped off the stool and finished off my original drink. I would probably request it later. Mixing light and dark alcohols were always a mistake. I walked over the queue for the stage and gave the guy running it the song. He looked over the list and nodded once he saw it on the list. I waited for my turn, bouncing on my legs.

The girl in front of me finished off her song and hurried off the stage before the guy gave the go ahead to go up. I climbed up the stairs and walked to the mic. The spotlight was bright in my eyes but luckily it kept me from seeing the majority of the crowd. I could see the prompter with the lyrics beginning to scroll across.

Stage fright was a very real thing as I stood there. I felt stiff behind the mic, singing the lyrics to Demi Lovato’s Ruin The Friendship. Then the alcohol began to hit. I was loosening up and felt myself diving into the lyrics. Truth be told, I didn’t care how I sounded. I just was glad I had actually gotten up on stage.

After the song ended, I heard clapping. I moved down the stairs again and could see far more people than I would have liked. But the majority of them were clapping. I found my way back to the table and climbed up on the stool. Before I gave myself the chance to listen to anything Taron or Jack were saying, I grabbed my remaining shot and threw it back.

When I put the glass down, I looked between the two of them. Taron was grinning and holding back laughter. Jack was giving me a nod of approval. Evidently I had done something right.

Jack disappeared a little while later, either to get more drinks or head to the restroom, leaving Taron and I alone. He stood up and moved beside me, standing next to my bar stool. He arm slid around my waist as he kissed my cheek.

“Were you trying to tell me something with that song?” He whispered into my ear.

I was flushed from the alcohol in my system but his breath on my ear sent shivers down my spine. “Wouldn’t you like to know,” I teased, looking at him and kissing him swiftly.

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stayextrafrosty · 4 years ago

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I am Your Future, I am Your Past: Chapter 8

A Roswell New Mexico Soulmate AU

Note: Please don’t be mad at me at the end of this. Also, two weeks into classes and my free time for writing has gone down considerably.

Read On AO3 // Chapter 1

Michael sat with Isabel at a red light. The information they got was useful but still only surface level. What was that work he was still doing for the military? Something about it felt wrong and he wasn’t sure he wanted to learn the answer. For Alex’s sake.

“Hey cowboy, back to earth.” He jumped when Isabel poked him. Zoning out had become a regular part of his day.

“Sorry,” he mumbled. She shook her head.

“I swear you’re like a lovestruck teenager. I was just saying that we should go pick up your truck and clear out that bunker.” He shot a glare at her that she didn’t see. She tapped her fingers along to whatever was on the radio and he turned back to look out the window.

Everyone they talked to seemed to have nothing but good things to say about Forrest. How could Michael even begin to measure up? He used to be known as the town drunk. He sold old parts from the auto shop for extra money. Not to mention literally pushing Alex away on the first day he told him about the curse.

He glanced down at his scarred and busted hand. All that history and it was almost nothing but pain. And even now that’s all their relationship was about. Pain. He wished it could be different. He wanted to touch him gently. Say everything was going to be fine and mean it.

Images of the two lovers from the journal flashed through his mind. The two of them running. Holding each other. Touching…

Michael shook his head. He couldn’t get lost in that world. There were too many other things he needed to take care of.

Isabel pulled into the Evans’ drive. He hopped out before waiting for her to stop completely triggering a worried yelp that made him grin. He’d been doing that ever since she started driving. Waiting just long enough so he wouldn’t get hurt but still enough to startle her.

“One day you’re going to misjudge and I’m going to run you over,” she scolded. Michael laughed as he shut her door.

Hopping into his own truck he pulled out and followed Isabel back to Sanders Auto. His radio refused to play anything clearly. Certain sounds came through but nothing for very long. He tried changing the station but it was all the same.

Coming… this time… need help… the last… chance…

He shook his head and settled for just turning it off. He’d have to take a look at it later. The sun beat down on the steering wheel, making it difficult to hold. It seemed brighter than usual. Michael picked up his sunglasses that he almost never wore. Could this day get any weirder?

The houses spread out until they were nonexistent at the edge of town. Tumbleweeds blew about the cactus, dust kicking up behind cars. They turned off the main road onto the dirt and gravel path up to the junkyard.

Michael could see Sanders sitting in a lawn chair, watching over the place. Or maybe watching him pull in. He hadn’t exactly been the best worker the last week. He couldn’t even explain why. There were other mechanics he could call but part of his deal was that he could park there as long as he worked regularly. He pulled up next to his Airstream. Sanders stood from the chair slowly.

“Been missin’ ya boy. You wanna hang around, you gotta fix some’a these guys for me,” He said. Michael had heard the threats before but Sanders rarely followed through. Didn’t mean he wanted to test how far he could push him.

“I’ll get on it as soon as I finish cleaning some stuff up in the bunker, promise.” He narrowed his one eyebrow that was visible. He scratched his nose then turned to go inside his office trailer.

“It’s wonderful to see you Mr. Sanders,” Isabel called after him in her sweetest voice. He waved as he tried to hide the small smile that always snuck out when she was around. Michael didn’t understand why she made a better impression than he did but at least the old guy might be in a good mood.

Isabel followed him over to the lever on the back of his trailer. It groaned as it moved to uncover the top of the bunker. He pulled the lid open.

“Watch your step. Probably should have told you to wear more sensible shoes,” he said, gesturing to her boots with the four-inch heel. He moved down the ladder first. Figuring he’d be more help if she slipped. She just rolled her eyes at him.

“I think you forget who you’re talking to, Michael. I could probably kick your ass in shoes higher than this,” she taunted. Isabel followed him quickly. He sighed heavily, not knowing how to respond.

He left her to handle the rest of it by herself. He felt around for the light. He hadn’t spent much time here since he had shown it to Alex. Sure, he came to water the plants but the experiment seemed to have failed.

Michael found the switch that was farther in than it probably should have been and he flipped it on. The lights flickered a few times before dimly lighting the space. He walked over to his planters, examining the wilted leaves. He cursed under his breath. He would need to experiment with the dirt and fertilizer again.

“What are you even doing in here,” Isabel asked skeptically.

“Trying to make plants grow in harsh conditions. Make it easier to grow crops.” Isabel exhaled softly as she stared in awe.

Michael picked up the dying plants on one of the far tables, moving the planters to a different table on the other side of the bunker. He didn’t have anywhere to keep this stuff for now. Maybe he’d ask Liz if there was any extra lab space she knew about. The best he could do was move his experiments to one side of the room.

“Didn’t your mother used to work with this kind of stuff?” He paused in his movements. He hadn’t thought about her in a while.

“Yea. Found some of her old notes. That’s what I’m working off of,” he said, pretending like it didn’t hurt to think about. He couldn’t remember her in detail anymore. He had a picture of his parents but their voices were lost to time. Neither of them had been the recording type so there weren’t any videos.

“I’m sorry, Michael,” she said gently. Her hand rested on his shoulder.

“It was a long time ago now.” He shook her hand off and continued moving the planters around. She didn’t push the topic further.

The silence stretched as one side of the bunker began to look like... well... a bunker again. The light coming through the hole where the door was dimmed, sun setting. The summer was at its end and there wasn’t nearly enough light in the day anymore. He glanced at his phone. Not even seven thirty.

“Hey Iz, wanna pick up some food?” He looked over at her and watched as she made a face at some bug that she stomped on with her heel. Michael tried not to laugh as she did it again.

“Don’t laugh! Why don’t these things fucking die?” Michael raised an eyebrow and walked over to where she was standing. A scorpion ran around the leg of the table, surviving another assault from Isabel’s shoe.

Michael shook his head and grabbed her arm gently, pulling her away. These things would only die if you burned them. Or at least crushed them with a steel weight. Maria was never a fan of how many of them popped up around here either.

He grabbed an empty planter cup and set it in front of the bug. He waited patiently for it to crawl in before trapping it with a second one. It would be pissed when he let it go but he should be able to toss it somewhere it wouldn’t come back for revenge.

“Grab that tape, would you? Keep it sealed until I get outside.” Isabel hurried over to the table where they had moved a handful of things and pulled a long piece of tape from the dispenser.

“I will never understand why you always saved these things. There’s more than enough in the world,” she said, wrapping her arms around herself after handing him the tape.

He never really understood it either. And it wasn’t consistent. He’d kill certain spiders but save scorpions. Save snakes but kill mice. Maybe he should start just saving them all? As a child he always thought that maybe they were just misunderstood.

Michael wrapped the tape around the seam of the two cups. He could feel the thing moving around, probably looking for a way out.

“Alright, alright, just chill,” he mumbled to the scorpion. Weirdly enough, it stopped moving. “I’ll be right back,” he said to Isabel.

Climbing up the ladder was harder with only one hand. The extra strain on his arm made him flinch. The bullet wound had actually closed much faster than normal, though it still hurt.

Michael pulled himself out of the hole and stood slowly, wiping the dirt from his hands on his pants. He walked to a space behind the trailer, looking out at the expanse of desert. He just needed a rock or something this thing could dig under.

“You know. I’d really like to climb under a rock sometimes, too. Maybe we aren’t so different,” he said to the bug that had begun to crawl again.

He laughed at himself and walked out to a cactus about fifty feet away from the trailer. He pulled the tape off and opened the two cups slowly, trying to figure out which one it was in. He crouched down and dumped it as close to the plant as possible without poking himself.

The black scorpion hit the ground and curled into a ball. Once it was sure nothing was going to touch it, it opened up and buried its way under the edge of the plant. He stood and wandered back to the trailer.

He was about to start the climb back down when a strong wind whipped through the yard. He stumbled back and grabbed his hat, holding it in place. They hadn’t called for dust storms. So what was going on?

Michael looked around. The dust continued to spin and cover everything. He struggled just to stay standing. He needed to get back inside.

He crouched down but the wind picked up more, knocking him to the ground. He stayed curled up, waiting for the gusts to pass. He thought he heard Isabel call for him but he couldn’t open his mouth to speak.

Unsecured chairs blew across the yard like tumbleweeds. Papers were ripped off the bulletin boards. Michael squeezed his eyes shut. Dust storms were common. But there’s usually some kind of warning.

He nearly jumped out of his skin as lightning cracked. It could have been right next to him. Had there even been clouds? His ears rang.

If this was the apocalypse then he had a few choice words for whoever he met when he died. Most of them probably about how they screwed him out of the best thing he couldn’t have.

Then it stopped.

Dust fell back to the ground.

Wind slowing to a gentle breeze.

“Michael!” Isabel called to him from the bunker. He could hear her scrambling up the ladder.

Cracking his eyes open, a blurry figure stood in front of him. He coughed and brushed dirt and dust from his face. A pair of hands landed on his shoulder.

“Oh my god, are you ok? I heard the wind and the lightning and—” Whatever she was saying cut off. Michael pulled himself up, shaking his head to get some of the dust out of it. He looked up at her but she just looked over him. He turned slowly, heart racing.

A girl stood there. A plain t-shirt and black jeans. Black hair not as long as the picture he had seen. She just stood there and watched the two of them. That bad omen. The angel of death.

It was Tessa.

His heart pounded as she turned toward the sun. It was slowly dipping closer to the horizon. A smile found its way onto her face as she closed her eyes.

“The thing I always miss the most is the warmth of the sun. My celestial body doesn’t let me feel much of anything.”

This couldn’t be her. Everything in his body screamed to deny it. She wasn’t real. That was his first thought.

His second was Alex. She had saved him once, but he figured that wouldn’t happen again. Should he even tell him she appeared? He needed to keep her away from him but he also deserved to know that she was alive.

“Michael… she’s…” Isabel couldn’t finish her thought. He had shown the picture to both her and Max, making them promise to warn him if she ever showed up.

Tessa turned back toward them taking lazy steps closer until she stood an arm’s length away. She offered her hand to him. He flinched at the sudden movement.

“Sorry, was the wind and lightning too much? I’d always wanted to make a dramatic entrance like that but the others always said ‘no.’ But fuck ‘em right?” Was she really trying to pretend that this was somehow a regular occurrence? Her hand was still extended.

Michael shook his head and jumped up, recovering from the shock of her being in front of him. Isabel held onto his arm, fingers digging into the muscle.

“What are you doing here,” he demanded. She tilted her head and frowned.

“Really? No ‘who are you’ first?” She shrugged and scratched her head. When Michael didn’t say anything more, she sighed. “Fine. Guess I have to do everything myself. I’m Tessa, short for Theresa. I was there when the original curse was cast.”

Michael balled his hands into fists. What was the point of her telling them this? He knew she brought death with her so why would she bother trying to be friends?

“You’re an angel of death. Excuse me for being a bit hostile,” he snapped. Her nose scrunched and she crossed her arms, pouting.

“Why is it always ‘angel of death’ and not ‘well-meaning Nephilim who gets screwed over by her parent’s whims?’ I know how it looks but seriously, I’m here to help.” She looked around the yard, confusion settling on her face. “Where’s Alex? I missed him.”

“So it’s true. That was you in his platoon.” She smiled fondly and nodded.

“Told me all about this guy he could come home to,” she said, looking him up and down. “I only want him to be happy. Both of you actually.” Her face turned serious as she looked back at the setting sun. “This has gone on long enough.”

Alex talked about him? Why? He had pushed him away so much Alex didn’t even say goodbye. He supposed he didn’t exactly go find him either. They had seen each other a couple times after he left. But Michael had figured that second time would have been the last.

Banging on the door of his airstream forced Michael awake. He groaned and pulled himself up just enough to check his phone for the time. Almost noon. It was probably Sanders ready to scold him about how he needed to pull his weight.

His head pounded and he willed the banging on the door to stop. It did for a second but then it started back up again. Whoever it was, was going to get an earful. He pulled on a wrinkled white shirt he had on yesterday and stumbled over to the door.

He pulled it open, squinting at the sun that poured in through the opening. He blinked a few times and ran a hand over his face. He took in the green and tan camo uniform and followed it up to the face with the brown eyes he hadn’t seen in over a year.

“Alex.” He held himself back from pulling him close, not sure if that was what he wanted.

“Hey, Michael.” His heart flipped in his chest. Looking around, he didn’t see anyone else but this hardly seemed like a casual visit.

“When’d you get back?” Michael stepped out of the trailer, forcing Alex to take a few steps backward to maintain a professional distance.

“A few hours ago.” An awkward silence stretched between them. Michael sighed and opened the trailer door again. He signaled with his hand, inviting him inside.

“It’s too hot to just be standing out here,” Michael said. “If you need to talk to me, we can do it inside.” Alex finally met his gaze and nodded following him through the door. Michael leaned against the counter and watch as Alex looked around, fiddling with his hands.

“I um… just wanted to make sure you were doing ok,” Alex mumbled. He tried not to laugh but a small chuckle escaped him. This boy was going to be the death of him.

“Manes, when have I ever not been ok?” His eyes flickered down to his hand. It had been nearly three years and he still blamed himself. Michael shook his head and stepped up to him. “If you don’t want to go home, you can stay here,” he said quietly.

Alex sucked in a breath. Michael leaned forward slowly. He wanted it to be Alex who kissed him. Give him some confirmation that he still wanted this.

“Stay,” he whispered, pressing his forehead against his. Alex’s hands came to rest on his face. They stood like that, breathing in time with each other, for who knows how long.

Then Alex was kissing him. Or maybe he was kissing Alex. He couldn’t be sure. Michael grabbed at his waist, pulling him closer. Alex pushed him back against the counter, trapping him there.

Michael nipped at him, pulling a soft moan from his lips. He threaded his fingers in his curls, tugging gently. Michael ran his hands all over him, wishing he could just toss his uniform to the floor and have him all to himself.

Alex pulled away sooner than he wanted. Both of them trying to catch their breath but still brushing lips against each other.

“Michael… I… I want to stay. But I can’t. I’m leaving and… I don’t think I’m coming back.” He froze, the weight of the words setting in. It was as though a ball of lead had been dropped in his gut.

He lifted his hands to his chest, pushing Alex back gently. Why would he even bother coming? Giving him this hope that maybe they wouldn’t have to say goodbye anymore, then just ripping it away.

“Michael—”

“Just stop Alex. If you’re going to leave, then leave.” He turned away from him, hiding the tears that had built in his eyes.

“Please listen to me,” Alex pleaded, voice cracking.

“No. I’m not going to listen to you say goodbye anymore. Don’t bother coming to see me if you just want to be cruel.” Michael dug his nails into his palms, stopping himself from grabbing Alex and holding onto him so he couldn’t go anywhere ever again. “Just go!” He knew Alex would jump from the yelling.

Michael’s throat burned. He didn’t deserve that. Playing on his trauma.

Before he could apologize, the door to the airstream opened and slammed shut. And he never saw him again.

“So how exactly do you plan to be of any help,” Isabel asked? Michael blinked out of the memory, surprised to hear Isabel’s voice. Tessa straitened her shoulders and smiled.

“You must be from a side branch. Well, I can’t get in the way of the trials but I can give you a heads up. Tip one: they usually happen in pairs. One happens and within a week the second will happen.” Michael and Isabel shared a skeptical look.

Neither of them had time to respond as a car skidded to a stop next to his. Alex jumped out of the car, fear covering his face.

“Michael,” he called to him, voice breaking. His heart skipped a beat at his name. He shook himself free of Isabel and ran over to him. Alex pulled him into a tight hug. He stumbled forward a bit in surprise. They hadn’t hugged since that last time seven years ago.

“Hey, what’s wrong? Are you ok,” he asked gently? What was scary enough to send Alex running into his arms like this?

“Me? It was you, damnit. I could feel everything. The fear and then the pain… Fuck, I thought you were dying!” Alex pushed him back and looked over him, running his fingers gently over the injury on his arm.

“Not quite,” he said. Having Alex’s full attention made his heart race. He knew he would feel it too but he didn’t care. The concern on his face ignited the spark of hope that Michael had shoved away for the last seven years.

Alex sighed and ran a hand through his hair. He looked at Michael and raised his eyebrows.

“So what happened to basically give me a heart attack,” he asked.

“Alex? That you?” Every emotion drained from his face as his eyes shifted over Michael’s shoulder. He kept his eyes trained on his face, making sure he was ok.

“Tessa?”

It was as though his brain couldn’t pick an emotion. Should he be happy? She was his best friend. Should he be relived? At least she wasn’t dead. Should he be scared? Because she may very well be an angel of death sent to destroy him and Michael.

“I’m sorry about the vague note. I was being watched.” Alex opened his mouth to say something but no words came out. He glanced over at Michael, watching his eyebrows draw together.

“What note? You didn’t tell me about anything like that.” Alex shook his head.

“I didn’t think it was important.” Michael snorted.

“There you go lying to me. Jesus Manes, you have to come to me with shit like that,” he scolded.

“This is not the time, Guerin,” he snapped back, refocusing on Tessa. She just watched them with amusement. She shook her head, chuckling.

“Just like them…” she muttered to herself. Isabel appeared next to Michael, grabbing his arm gently. She leaned in to whisper something he couldn’t hear. He thought she glanced over at him but with the sky getting darker, it was hard to tell.

Alex took a cautious step towards Tessa. Was this really the person he had come to know in Iraq? She seemed so different now. Physically she seemed taller? And there was this glow. Maybe it was because she wasn’t covered in dirt and blood anymore. But it felt like it was more than that.

He had known she had heterochromia, but it was so much more obvious now. One eye a deep brown while the other a pale blue. She smiled sweetly at him. He wanted nothing more than to hug her. Fall into her arms and thank her for what she’s done for him.

He wanted to trust her.

“So if it’s really you, why’d you disappear? I thought you had died.” His voice shook, unsure if it was from fear or anger. She sighed.

“I’m sorry. When that bomb went off, I needed to save the others too. I couldn’t do that with you there because you would have been able to see it. And after that, I visited you while you were asleep. Acted as your guardian angel. Until that mark showed up.” He touched the spot over his heart, feeling an echo of Michael’s heartbeat.

“See what? How did you save the rest of the platoon,” he asked?

“Remember the barn?” Alex’s eyes shot over to Michael’s. Of course he did.

“So you’re saying that weird slowing of time was you?” Michael sounded almost amazed. Alex’s mouth hung open slightly. She had that much power?

“Why can Michael and I see it?” She raised an eyebrow, looking between the three of them. Was the answer supposed to be obvious?

“You seriously don’t know,” she asked incredulously? Alex shook his head slowly and glanced over at Michael again. Had he left something out of their little history lessons? But he and Isabel seemed to be just as lost as he was. She sighed and ran a hand through her hair. “Well this is going to be annoying. I don’t have the energy to reteach your history right now. Let’s pick this up tomorrow yea?”

None of them had time to argue. A gust of wind and quick flash of light disoriented them and she was gone. As though she had never been there. The three of them stood in silence for a moment, staring at the place she had been standing.

“So tell me you guys saw that, too,” Isabel said. Alex and Michael both nodded. What did she mean ‘reteach history?’

The last of the orange faded from the sky. Stars suddenly appearing as the dark blue slowly took over. Alex stared at the sky, looking for some cosmic sign to tell him what to do.

He searched the starts for Pisces, just like Rosa used to make him do when he, Liz, Maria, and her all hung out. ‘It looks like an arrow’ is what she always said. Maybe one day it’d point him in the direction of the rest of his life.

He followed the path down, mostly out of curiosity. He never really took that astrology stuff seriously. He jumped when he looked down and found Michael standing in front of him, arms crossed. Guess the stars had a weird sense of humor.

“Whatcha looking for, captain?” He shook his head, letting out a soft chuckle.

“Waiting for the stars to tell me what to do,” he half joked. A small grin snuck onto Michael’s face.

“They seem to enjoy shoving us together from what I can tell. We’re cosmic, Manes,” he said, laughing. His heart skipped a beat and his stomach flipped. Damn him for saying stuff like that. Alex couldn’t deny it though. Isabel materialized next to them.

“Well I’m going to head out. I’ll update Max on the situation.” Michael nodded and saluted her. She looked over at Alex and smiled, resting a hand on his arm as she walked past.

They watched as she climbed into her car after complaining about how she had just gotten it washed. He chuckled at her annoyance. Keeping cars clean in the middle of a desert was an impossible task. She pulled away, a cloud of dust following her.

“Help me make a fire before it gets too dark,” Michael said. He turned to follow him but didn’t realized he hadn’t moved yet. Alex ran into him, hands shooting out to grab his arms for support. Michael’s arms wrapped around his waist, steadying him.

Alex felt the heat rush to his face. He was thankful the sun had set, hiding his embarrassment. He was close enough to watch a lazy smile settle on Michael’s face. The smell of rain was assaulting his senses. And his hands on his waist was not helping.

“At least buy me a drink first,” he teased. Alex looked away, stepping out of his arms. The warmth of him vanished. He felt cold even though it was probably still ninety degrees.

“Sorry. You said something about a fire,” he asked? Michael nodded, turning away from him.

“Yea. Otherwise we won’t be able to see.” He followed him to the pile of wood on the rack near his trailer. They carried a few pieces to get started. Michael offered him the one chair that had gotten caught on the fire pit. He jogged away to grab one of the others. Alex sat, watching the small twigs at the bottom catch fire.

He watched it slowly lick up the sides of the logs, growing brighter with every inch. Shadows played on the side of the trailer and walls of the workshop. When was the last time he was here at night?

Michael returned with a plastic folding chair and set it down, just out of arms reach from where Alex was sitting.

“How was your date,” he asked quietly? He hardly registered the question. He hadn’t even thought about Forrest since he came rushing over here. Where Michael was involved, it was the only thing he could think about.

“Fine,” he said, not really wanting to go into detail. He didn’t ask more about it.

“Listen Manes, we need to talk about some things.” Alex looked over at him. He expected him to be watching the fire but no, his eyes looked right at him. They didn’t even waver. Heat that wasn’t from the fire burned on his cheeks again.

“I’m sorry I didn’t say anything about the note. It was a weird day and I was exhausted and I didn’t think you wanted to see me after I walked out.” Michael stayed silent. The things that had been said that day stuck with him. The dream they shared refused to leave him alone.

“So I found a journal,” he began. Completely ignoring what happened at the hospital. “I think it’s from one of the early incarnations of the curse.” Alex’s eyebrows drew together.

“Didn’t you say there were a handful of them?”

“Yea but this one’s different. The couple is a pair named Samuel and Thomas.” The two names made him sit up, resting his arms on his legs. The same names from the vision he had. “The journal belonged to Thomas. And I don’t know how but—”

“Wait,” Alex cut him off. “I thought all the incarnations had been guy/girl pairings? That we were the weird ones in all this?” Michael shrugged.

“I don’t know. But that was the only explanation I could come up with.” Michael ran a hand through his hair. “Also, I think the journal triggered a vision.” So he had one too.

“Let me guess. Really old timey. Candles? Log cabin like? Forest surrounding the grounds?” It was his turn to look confused.

“Exactly… but how did you know that?” He took a deep breath. He wasn’t sure why he was so nervous about telling him these things. Probably because of the nature of the feelings he felt while in the vision.

“I had a vision, too. The day I got the note. Came out of nowhere really. And Samuel looked just like you,” he said. Michael looked away from him, running a hand over his jaw.

“We gotta tell each other everything, Alex. That’s the only way we’re going to figure this out. It’s the only way I can protect you.” His heart fluttered again. It was tugging him toward Michael.

He was the one that needed to protect him. He wasn’t the one who was going to be hurt if he got into a car accident or kidnapped and tortured. He clenched his fists and stood from his chair, ignoring the complaint from his leg with the prosthetic.

“You keep saying that. But maybe it’s supposed to be the other way around.” He stood slowly, watching him with curiosity. Alex stepped forward and lifted a hand to rest on his chest gently. “I know you feel me, Guerin. You know that if anything were to happen to you because of me, I would be destroyed.” Michael lifted his hand to cover his, holding it against his chest.

They stood there. Alex stared at their entwined fingers over Michael’s t-shirt. As much as he hated to admit it, Michael had become his whole life too.

He cursed himself. He shouldn’t be here anymore. It was too much. Everything he was feeling was getting mixed up with Michael. His head was so full of him that even as he tried to think of Forrest, he just didn’t care.

He mumbled that he should leave but couldn’t bring himself to pull away. In fact he only found himself closer. Breathing the same air. His eyes traced his face, hesitating on his mouth.

No!

He scolded himself. He couldn’t do that to Maria. He couldn’t do that to Forrest. Everything about them was wrong but so was everything else. The world only made sense when they were together.

He pulled his hand away from Michael, turning to leave. He didn’t get very far. Michael grabbed him, pulling him against him. His hands found their place on Alex’s face, forcing him to look in his eyes.

“Stay.”

#malex fanfiction #soulmates au #malex soulmate au #malex fic #malex #roswell new mexico fic #michael guerin #alex manes #michael guerin/alex manes #feedback always appreciated

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60schickgroovy · 4 years ago

Text

The Fair

(Peter)

I bobbed my sign and flexed my pecs. I was tired and hungry and I only had one spot left to fill, so if the only reason they stopped was the size of my breasts, I was okay with that. 5 minutes later someone pulled over and I led them to my house and into the remaining opening on the lawn. I breathed in the fresh air as I walked up the steps to the front door of my parent’s house, it was a glorious day! Suddenly, I thought I heard someone say my name. I turned to look around for a person, but there were none to be found. I guessed I must have misheard, my parents lived in a house near the corner and a few blocks from the Minnesota state fair so the cross street was always busy at this time of year. “Y/n!” I turned again and noticed a red van had slowed to a stop in front of my house. “Hello?” I squeezed between the cars on the lawn to the sidewalk and when I emerged I was surprised to say the least. “Hi, Y/n!” It was my high school crush, his mom and his two younger brothers. “Hello, Mrs. L. What a surprise!” “Hey, Y/n.” “Hi!” “Hi, Y/n!” “Hi, Ben. Hi, guys!” I waved to his brothers in the back seat. “How are you?” His mom asked with a kind smile. “I’m very well thank you.” “Where were you at graduation, you missed, Mrs. May’s speech.” Ben asked “I know I was so bummed, but I have never been sicker in my life. I got to skip Jennings’s final though.” “Lucky. Anything crazy happen over the summer?” “Actually today I...” His mom was being honked at from behind. “Here just a minute.” She pulled past the intersection and Ben hopped out crossing over to where I was at the corner. We talked for a while about my trip to Ireland, graduation, his boat, college and the fair. “Yea, some of my friends are actually playing in the grandstand tonight, my cousin was supposed to come with me but her flight got delayed. Hey! Would you like to come, I’ve got backstage passes too and it’s a pretty good line-up tonight.” “Really?! That would be awesome! When should I be here?” “Well, music starts at 7 so how about 6, gives us time to get over there maybe stop for snacks.” “I’ll be here.” He hugged me, which I wasn’t expecting, so I was a little stiff and after a few salutations he took off. I stood there for a few moments and waved him off, what an odd turn of events! I’d never seen him near my house and he never wanted to do anything with me outside of school!

Tonight was a big night, I put on cute hoops and love beads with my favorite psychedelic top and shorts, I slipped into sandals and put my suede, fringe jacket on. I kissed my mother, reddened my lips and headed out. Ben was dropped off just as I stepped out. I was preoccupied with my bangs for a moment before coming up to meet him. “Hey, Y/n, thanks again. Wow, you look really nice!” “Oh! Thank you, so do you.” Weird, Ben never complemented me. Maybe once in our whole 6 year acquaintance. “Let’s go, I feel like some French fries!” I said and we walked off. We wandered back toward the grandstand, grabbing fries and snow cones and talking along the way. Conversation flowed freely between us and it made me remember why I had liked him, but I also saw the things that made me glad nothing had ever happened there. He never wanted to talk about an ‘us’, even a friends ‘us’, he was self-preoccupied and he kept bringing up past girlfriends and girls who liked him now. He was always kind of making a move while making it clear he didn’t like me that way. I was also really happy that I... “The show starts in 15 minutes, we should get to our seats!” I said eagerly. We found our seats right in the middle and the perfect distance from the stage. A small local band called Unless walked on stage and were introduce by a groovy guy named Eric. Ben leaned over and asked, “Are these your friends.” “No, they’re later. I actually do know Eric though... Woo! Go, Eric!!”

As the evening progress Ben got confused, these guys were the intro band, if they weren’t my friends then it could only be the big famous band. “Which group are you friends with?” He finally asked as the group left the stage to loud applause. “Oh, the M... Here they are!” He turned to watch four young men walk on stage bouncing and making faces. “Yay!! Peter!!! Mike!! Micky!! Davy!!” I was best friends with the Monkees. “You’re friends with them?” He asked in awe and disbelief. “Oh, yea. We met about a year ago.” There was tumultuous applause and I heard Peter say, “Thank you, thank you!!” “I love you. Peter.” I called. Ben decided I was crazy, I didn’t know them, I just said that to seem cool and that he’d be very forgiving when I looked foolish backstage. They hopped up and down in time as they started Last Train to Clarksville. After a few songs and a costume switch, Mike walked up to the mic with a smile, “Now this last song is for a very special young lady in the audience tonight! She’s special to all of us but especially to Peter.” Ben saw my face turn, from glee to shock to overwhelmed happiness. “He told them!” I gasped. Ben looked at me, utterly perplexed. The spotlight finally landed on, “Ms. Y/n Y/l/n, will you please report to the principal’s office.” Micky stole the microphone. I beamed as I got out of my seat, touched Ben’s shoulder, oblivious to his total shock and made my way to the stage. Davy was waiting to hug me, “Congratulations.” He whispered in my ear. I kissed his cheek and moved to be scooped off my feet by Micky. “I’m so happy!!” He spun me around and I kissed his cheek to. “You guys planned this didn’t you?” I asked Mike, as he hugged me, “Congratulations, Babe.” I kissed his cheek and gave him a squeeze before running into Peter’s arms. “I love you!” He whispered. “I love you too and I can’t believe you did all this!” “I didn’t and I have no idea what’s next!” He warned. “Oh god.” I smiled as Davy grabbed the microphone. “Now everyone’s probably wondering why we brought our friend up here.” There was an affirmative murmur from the audience. “Well, because this morning Peter, here, asked Y/n a very important question...” There were screams and gasps all through the grandstand. I buried my face in Peter’s chest. “What did you say, Y/n?” The place got quiet as Davy held up the mic for me. I looked into the eyes of the expectant crowd and it suddenly felt very personal and I was nervous, but then I looked up at Peter and he smiled, his warm sunshine smile and I felt confidence and joy fill me up. “Yes.” I held up my left hand, splaying my fingers and moving it a little so the ring would catch the lights. There were cheers and whoops enough for people in Minneapolis to hear. Peter gave me a quick kiss before heading back to his spot by Davy. Mike pulled me over to sit in front of Micky’s drums. “So, Y/n, here’s your favorite!” He said to the mic. They struck up “The Kind of Girl I Could Love.” I beamed as I clapped and sang along softly. Mike winked at me, I turned to see Micky wiggle his eyebrows. Davy smiled and Peter... I could tell he meant every word. He looked at me like no man ever had, like I was his whole world.

At the end of the song I was hoisted onto Micky and Mike’s shoulders and carried off stage to tumultuous applause. The boys carried me all the way back to their trailers. We started a bonfire and had someone go get us food, the boys were starving. “I’ll be right back, I had a friend with me and I don’t know if he’ll be able to find me.” Peter kissed my cheek as I hopped out of his lap and hurried over to where they were letting people with backstage passes in. There was a couple of young guys who walked right passed me, two teen girls, one of them noticed me, burst in to tears and they both fled. Then I caught Ben’s eye, he seemed dazed but I was still too happy to notice. The bouncer let him through and I gave him a huge hug. “What did you think?” “You actually know them?” “The Monkees, well Yea. Peter’s my fiancé and Mike, Micky and Davy are my best friends. Do you want to meet them? There’s corndogs and beer and stuff.” He shrugged with a halfhearted smile. I led him back the way I came. The boys waved as we approached. “Okay introductions.” I said pretending I needed a second to prepare. “Yea, Y/n, who is this long haired weirdo?” Mike asked. “Be nice Michael, this is my friend from school, Ben Lisbon. Ben this is Mike Nesmith, Micky Dolenz, Davy Jones and my fiancé Peter Thorkelson!” Micky gestured to the vacant seat next to him. “Chair on the sit!” Mike gave him a look, “Micky, Micky it’s sit on the chair.” Davy corrected him. “I don’t even know anymore!” Micky ran his hands over his face, just as, “Phillis!!” Mike’s wife emerged from his trailer. “Y/n! Oh, my, gosh it’s so good to see you.” She gave me a bone crunching hug. “Don’t squish the baby!” I said. “I know, I’m tiny right you can hardly tell.” I shook my head as she gestured to the large bump under her dress. “Phil, there is a human inside you, cut yourself some slack, besides you are glowing!” She blushed and fanned herself, batting her lashes. “You bet your boots she is, come ‘er.” Mike took her hand and brought her over to sit on his lap.

We chatted for a couple hours. I was never happier than when I was with the Monkees, Ben was a little quieter than usual, but he had fun talking to them. I noticed he kept trying to pull me away from Peter, it was hard, though, we kind of gravitated towards each other. At 11 he mentioned he had to get back and in the end we all decided to go. “We can drive!” Said Micky glancing around at his mates with a mischievous twinkle in his eye. Suddenly all four of them hopped up from their seats. Phil sighed and shook her head. “Come, my trusty cohorts! Let us to the Monkeemobile! Away!” Mike said pointing at the last exclamation. The other three surrounded him and mimicked, “Away!” I laughed as they marched off to the car. I stood and offered Phyllis and Ben my arms. Ben didn’t join in when we mimicked, “Away!”

Soon the crazy red car was parked in front of my house, where Ben’s mom was waiting to pick him up. I hopped out with him to say goodbye. “I hope you had fun! We’re a crazy group, but we do know how to have a good time.” He stopped walking. “Yea, it was great. Thank you, Y/n.” He took my hand and my heart clenched. “Y/n, do you ever wonder what would have happened if...we’d...” He tried to catch my gaze. “I used to.” I responded simply, “I hope you find what you’re looking for.” I said, trying to gently release his hand. “I kinda thought I had.” He said trying to make eye contact. I sighed, trying not to laugh. A year ago I would have given anything to hear him say that, my heart would have burst just now. But, as soon as I left that wretched high school and got a taste of the real world, freedom, peace, true happiness and finally real love, I realized that my crush on him was a whim, a fancy and now that I could look back on our acquaintance with my new experience and knowledge I realized that not only would he make me really unhappy, I didn’t feel anything for him. Nothing at all. “Goodbye, Bennett.”

When I had maneuvered into the far back seat of the car, Peter was waiting for me with open arms. “Hi.” “Hi.” “I missed you.” I smirked at him. “I was only gone a minute.” “Yea.” He nuzzled into the hug and I kissed his hair, laughing. “I love you, Peter.” He looked into my eyes and stroked my hair. “I love you too.” When the others had finished waving goodbye to Ben and his mom, Mike called back from the driver’s seat. “Alright, Ms. Minnesota, where too.” The smile on my face was stuck there, I smiled at all the happy, eager faces, I felt the warmth and love you feel when you have real friends. “O’Gara’s, drinks are on me!” There was a loud cheer as the car pulled out onto the dark street.

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*I don’t own the Monkees or anything under their brand, I just wrote this story*

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unbreakablejemmasimmons · 5 years ago

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#3 of the winter prompts.

03. i watch kids teach you how to skate because you’re a terrible skater

For such a small town, the parking lot of the Roswell Square Mall in December still managed to be a shitshow. Alex huffed out a frustrated breath as another car beat him to a parking space for the third time. Normally, he’d do all his shopping online, but he’d been too distracted, and the holiday had snuck up on him. There wasn’t time to wait for shipping.

Normally, he didn’t have many people to buy gifts for at all, he thought as he pulled into a spot in the very back corner of the parking lot. There was certainly no annual Manes family gift exchange to consider. But in early December, Liz had put her foot down. They were all too tense, working themselves too hard trying to find a way to bring Max back, and dammit, she was going to make sure they all got to experience at least a little holiday cheer in the form of a Secret Santa.

Alex had breathed a quiet sigh of relief when he’d pulled Isobel’s name out of the empty water pitcher at the Crashdown. Sure, he’d have to spend more than he’d like to satisfy her elegant tastes, but he’d dreaded choosing Michael’s name. What do you get for the alien who doesn’t want anything you have to offer? They’d managed to cobble together a friendship, but Alex wasn’t sure what he could come up with to give to Michael that didn’t feel at once too intimate and not intimate enough.

No, even difficult-to-please Isobel was definitely the safer choice.

Inside the mall, he weaved his way through crowds of frazzled moms and unaccompanied teens clutching their Orange Julius’ and Auntie Anne’s, ending up browsing housewares at Nordstrom. He finally settled on an abstract vase, figuring he could bring over flowers every now and then to fill it. Isobel’s house could use a touch of life these days.

He was on his way toward the mall entrance, Nordstrom bag in hand, when he spotted it. Spotted him, rather.

Michael, right in the middle of the temporary ice rink set up next to the food court. Michael, with ice skates strapped to his feet. Michael, gesticulating wildly with both hands for balance before falling hilariously, beautifully, on his ass.

Alex couldn’t stop being drawn to him if he tried.

He approached the edge of the rink, setting down his bag and leaning both elbows on the plastic barrier that separated the ice from the mall’s tile floor, and he watched.

“Told you I’m no good at this,” Michael groused, slipping backward and forward a bit as he heaved himself to his feet. At first, Alex wasn’t sure who he was talking to, until a kid who couldn’t be older than 13 skated around Michael in a perfect arc.

“That’s ‘cause your balance sucks,” the kid said, earning a glare from Michael.

“Yeah, no shit.” He grimaced. “I mean, no duh.”

The kid rolled his eyes. “You can say shit; I’m not five.” He gestured at Michael. “Try again.”

To Alex’s surprise, Michael did as he was told, shakily turning and skating a few feet in the other direction. The kid nodded encouragingly as Michael approached the ledge on the opposite side of the rink from where Alex stood. By the time Michael got there, grasping the plastic barrier for dear life, Alex could no longer hear the conversation between the two. Still, he couldn’t tear his eyes away.

“Weird, right?” came a voice to his left. He looked over in time to see Liz skating smoothly in his direction, coming to a stop with a little flourish as she reached him.

Alex quirked an eyebrow. “You mean, the fact that you and Michael are here ice skating together, or the fact that he’s getting skating lessons from some random sarcastic teenager?”

Liz let out a laugh, and it was a balm to Alex’s heart. It had been a rare sound lately, and while her smile didn’t quite reach her eyes, it was still a welcome sight.

“He wouldn’t listen to me at all, but this snarky kid started teasing him and I think it hurt his pride. He had to let him show him a few moves.”

“And you two are… what, practicing your ice dancing routine for the next winter Olympics?” He frowned, unable to resist scanning the rink to see who else might be there with them. “Is, uh–”

Liz leaned on the barrier across from him, catching his eye. “Maria and Michael broke up,” she said softly, as if she was the one who was psychic. “It was for the best, for all parties involved. But now he can’t exactly head over to the WIld Pony after we finish up in the lab every night, and I’d rather him not drink himself sick alone in his trailer. Not when he’s been doing so much better lately. So I’ve been brainstorming some non-whiskey-or-acetone-related ways to help him blow off steam.”

“Like ice skating,” Alex said, proud of how normal his voice sounded even as he processed so much new information.

Liz nodded. “Last night Rosa got him to make Christmas ornaments with her. Little green alien heads wearing Santa hats and UFOs pulled by reindeer. Tonight, I thought we’d try ice skating.”

They both looked over in time to see Michael sprawled spectacularly across the ice, a scowl on his face. The kid giggled, but still held out a hand to help him up.

“As you can see, it’s going about as well as could be expected,” Liz said.

Across the ice, Michael had pulled himself to his feet with the kid’s help, and rubbed one hand idly over his hip as if it had broken his fall. Then he looked over and met Alex’s gaze. Alex could see him exhale sharply, then mutter something to the kid. The kid gave Alex an appraising glance, then shrugged, grasping Michael’s elbow with both hands and helping guide him across the rink.

“Who’s your chauffeur, Mikey?” Liz asked with a laugh as they approached. Alex felt thrown off balance by the dichotomy of Michael’s jerky, inexpert skating and the way he still managed to look like every one of Alex’s dreams come to life, but he tried to muster a chuckle anyway.

“This is…” Michael began, just a few feet away.

“Curtis,” the kid spoke up. Then, to Liz: “You should get your friend some skating lessons for Christmas.”

She laughed again. “What do you charge?”

Curtis cocked his head to the side. “You couldn’t afford me. See ya!” He darted off across the ice, leaving the three of them in a close huddle at the edge of the rink.

“Alex,” Michael said, sounding a little out of breath. Alex presumed it was from the effort exerted trying to stay upright on skates.

“Hey.”

“I was just filling in Alex on you and Rosa’s arts and crafts nights,” Liz said. “Did she say popcorn garland or cut-out snowflakes was next?”

“I think she said we’re going to make a candy Nativity scene,” he answered without looking away from Alex. “Gummi Bears as the wise men and a little jellybean Jesus.”

“Couldn’t you use your powers to balance?” Alex asked, keeping his voice low.

“Liz has got me on a tight leash these days.”

She rolled her eyes, then explained, “We’re experimenting with the strength of his powers, and as a control, I asked him to refrain from using them outside of the lab for a few days.”

“And I’m gonna have the bruises on my ass to prove it.”

The last thing Alex needed was to think about Michael’s ass, and he looked over his shoulder at the crowded mall before turning back to the two of them. “Well, I should probably–”

“Hot chocolate,” Michael blurted out. Alex raised his eyebrows, and Liz just looked back and forth between them. “It’s just– Liz also has me on this no drinking thing–”

“Hey, you said–”

He waved her away, still looking hopefully at Alex. “But they have a little cafe with hot chocolate over there, and I could really use one after falling all over the ice. It’s pretty cold out there.”

Alex’s gaze flicked over to the cafe Michael mentioned, just a few little faux wrought-iron tables in a cluster on the other side of the rink.

“You thirsty?” Michael asked, and Alex swallowed. “I just thought– maybe we could, you know, talk.”

“Um.” Alex clutched the Nordstrom bag tighter in his grip and licked his lips. Talking had never been their strong suit, but Alex had meant it when he said he wasn’t walking away again. Not when Michael was finally ready for a conversation. He inhaled, then nodded, a muscle in his jaw twitching. “Actually, I’m parched.”

“Good. Great. I’ll just, ah, return these skates–”

“Take them off here and give them to me,” Liz said, gesturing to his feet. “I mean it; you’re a hazard to everyone on the ice. You two go, enjoy your hot chocolate.” Her expression brooked no arguments.

As they sat down across from each other minutes later, a hot chocolate topped with whipped cream in front of each of them, their knees brushed beneath the table, and neither one of them moved away. Alex took a steamy sip, and thought maybe the mall at Christmastime wasn’t so bad, after all.

#malex #malex fic #roswell nm fic #alex manes #michael guerin #roswell new mexico #i wrote this #thanks for the prompt!#chamblerstara

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spaceskam · 5 years ago

Text

The airstream was on fire.

Panic built in Maria’s body and she quickly looked to her passenger seat where her drunken boyfriend sat. he had been out of it for the most part when they left, but, when his eyes settled on the fire, he seemed to sober up.

“No. No, no no,” he said, jumping out of the truck before she could even bring it to a full stop. She slammed on her breaks.

“Guerin!”

She quickly put the car in park, jumping out after him to make sure he didn’t do something stupid like try to go inside. She, the fire didn’t seem all-encompassing just yet, but it was small. She would bet things were already ruined. He didn’t need to burn for that.

“Stop, Michael!” she yelled, catching his arm just barely and tugging him away. “It’s going to be okay! It’s just stuff, it’s okay!”

Maria tried, she really did. She even went to call 911, but he was her first priority and him fighting her made it hard to call. And her words seemed to only make it worse.

“No! It’s all I have!”

It was hard to know what happened next. It was so fast. One moment there were flames licking out of the open door while she held Michael back, and the next he was screaming and out of reach and inside the airstream. Then the flames stopped.

“Michael!” Maria screamed, chasing after him. She busted into the airstream to find him on the ground, the entire front half of the trailer irreparable. “Michael, what… You can’t just run into a burning building!”

“I stopped it, didn’t I?!” he screamed back, looking up to her with tears streaming down his face. She took a few breaths to keep calm because he was right, he had. Whatever alien magic took over, he stopped it.

“Still, you could’ve gotten hurt. And over what?” Maria said, her voice softer this time. She crouched down in front of him, reaching for his arm. Michael had a partially charred box in front of him, one that he seemed to be happy to cry into as he sifted through it. “C’mon, this air isn’t good to breathe. We’ll figure this out. You can stay with me until we can figure out how to fix this. The good thing is that no one got hurt and‒”

Michael cut her off with a scream so pained, so guttural that it made her jump. His body was shaking as he choked on his sobs, pulling something so delicately from the box. She looked down to see a destroyed picture. It was hard to make out from all cracks and holes and the entire thing was tinted brown. The only thing she could see was two pairs of legs in front of the airstream, one in jeans and another in camouflage.

Oh.

“Michael…” she said softly. She pushed away any of the pain she was feeling. He was worse.

“It’s all I had. It’s all I had. It’s all I had.” Michael just kept repeating the words, crying and rocking as held the picture with a light touch. She was so sure it would crumble if he was too rough, so she made no move to try and take it from him to get him to leave.

“C’mon, it’s going to be okay. It’s just stuff, that’s it.”

“No! Just go away!” he yelled, “It’s all I have!”

She was struggling to understand if he meant the airstream or Alex.

“Michael, look around, not everything destroyed. And-and I know you have most of your important stuff down in the bunker. This, this is just a setback. That’s it,” Maria tried again. He shook his head.

Maria did her best a few more times before realizing this wasn’t going to work.

“I’m going to call Alex,” she told him. That got his attention.

“Yeah, for what? Not like he’s gonna come. Why would he come? He doesn’t care,” Michael said, easily the most comprehensible thing he’d said in hours so of course, it had to feel like a punch in the throat.

Alex had basically dropped off the face of the earth when he saw them together. She understood. As much as she wished he could just be supportive of them, she understood his desire to get away. She knew he was still around if only because of Kyle mentioning his name offhandedly, but that was as much as she knew. Well, she also knew it had taken a massive toll on Michael.

He was drunk more times than he wasn’t to the point she had to find out he was an alien through him using his powers on accident and Isobel having to explain things. It felt like a betrayal that they had all kept it from her, but she also couldn’t bring herself to dump him over it. He’d lost so much and he was miserable. She was less a girlfriend and more a caretaker and he *knew it, but neither of them wanted to end it if only because that meant hurting Alex for nothing. Well, that’s why she did it. She was becoming convinced that he forgot they were even supposed to be dating.

“Because I don’t know what to do with you,” Maria admitted. He just slumped back over, a pained whine replacing any words he might’ve said as he gently touched over the cracked brown spot that she assumed was once Alex’s face.

She was reluctant to actually call Alex. It was almost four in the morning and they hadn’t spoken in months. It felt weird for their first conversation to be about someone that she took from him. Even if Michael had made the first move, he was also the one to pull away. He started pulling away before Alex even knew. That should’ve been a red flag.

Maria had to call Alex four times before he picked up, sounding more annoyed than ever.

“Wh‒”

“Before you even say anything, just listen. You can be mad at me and Michaell all you want, but we both still care about you and you wouldn’t be this angry if you didn’t care about us. That being said, Michael’s airstream caught on fire and he won’t get out of it,” she said quickly. There was a slight pause before she heard rustling.

“Is it still on fire?”

“He put it out, but he’s sitting in the charred part and I’m not an expert, but that can’t be good for his lungs,” she explained.

“Okay, give me a minute,” he sighed before the call ended.

What a fun day this was going to be.

“Michael, Alex is on his way,” Maria announced as she walked back to the airstream. He didn’t budge.

“Stop, that’s not gonna work, just leave me alone,” he whimpered. Michael had balled himself up beside what was his bed, still cradling that picture.

“I’m not leaving.”

“Leave!”

“I’m your girlfriend, not your fucking servant! I'm not just going to do shit because you tell me to!”

It honestly felt good to yell at him, but it instantly turned to regret when he didn’t bother to scream back. He was in a bad place. He'd been in a bad place for a while. He just couldn't seem to get a break.

Instead of making things worse with the sobbing shell of Michael Guerin, she waited outside for Alex and sent texts to Isobel and Liz. They should probably know what happened.

Maria was stuck on what to do herself for him. She hadn't ever lost a home before, but she knew that Michael was resourceful and had made it through with much less. She couldn't understand why, of all the shit he'd gone through, this was what broke him. Hell, he even managed to take Max's death with just an extra glass of whiskey a night. He didn't lay on the floor sobbing. This was new territory.

Alex pulled up and jumped out of his car looking tired and concerned. A deep frown was etched into his face as he stared at the airstream.

"Shit," he said as he neared her, taking slow steps. Maria blinked a few times in confusion.

"We haven't seen you in weeks and you come all this way to stare and say shit?" she asked. He just kept staring. "He needs you. He's crying over a burnt picture of you two so I figure I'm not what he needs right now." Alex licked his lips slowly.

"How bad is it on the inside?" he asked softly, not seeming phased by the mention of the picture.

"I mean, bad. The whole front end is fucked. It's probably going to cost him less to buy a new one than it would be to fix this one," she told him. He let out a long breath, his eyes cascading down as he kicked at the sand. "Am I missing something? First, he acts like it's the end of the world when I know his important things are in the bunker with the exception of that picture and now even you look sad."

She knew. She didn't need to ask. Apparently, a part of her still needed to hear it.

"This was our first home. He got it to give me somewhere safe when I came down. He would've been fine in his truck, but… he wanted to give me a home. After he chose you, I guess… Well, now even our home is gone. Symbolic, really. Feels like it's really the end."

Oddly enough, hearing one of the two idiots saying it out loud didn't make Maria sad. It just made everything make a little more sense. Life had basically handed them an extra bite of misery to force them to be less miserable.

"Here's what you're gonna do, you're gonna go in there and get your man back," Maria said firmly. Alex turned to her with a bewildered look on his face.

"You do know he's you're boyfriend, right?" Alex clarified. Maria rolled her eyes.

"We all know he was never mine to begin with," she said. He still looked hesitant to listen.

"Even if you are serious, it's not that simple. We have so many issues, not including the fact that he–"

"Then talk!" she exclaimed. He looked borderline terrified of the word. "No wonder you're both sad, neither of you understand the word communicate."

"I… I'm actually confused about what is happening," he said slowly. Maria took a step forward, grabbing him by the shoulders.

"You're going to go in there, tell him that you guys are going to replace that picture with another one taken in front of your new home, and then talk. Talk it better," Maria explained. The more she spoke, the better she felt. This felt more right than any move she'd made in months.

"Why do you want that? He's your boyfriend," Alex said softly, his last-ditch effort to avoid going in there. She huffed.

"Look, he's been more of a child that I didn't ask for than a boyfriend. It's kind of a relief to give him to someone better equipped," she admitted. Alex licked his lips again, looking towards the airstream.

"And you're serious? You're okay with that?" Alex asked one last time. She smiled. God, they really we're going to be perfect once they settled their shit. And she would have a clear conscience.

"Will you please, please be selfish for once?"

And with a small smile, he headed towards the airstream.

#the spacing looks weird but i wrote it on my phone #idk what this is #malex #malex fic #cant do keep reading on my phone im so sorry #i didnt proofread either double sorry

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keeroo92 · 5 years ago

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Prompt idea: Angel!V is and will always be human reader’s guardian. He is cast out of Heaven when his brethren realize his love for a mere mortal. Forced to live among ordinary folk, the fallen Angel crosses paths with reader again, at long last able to stay in her life.

Oof, what a delicious idea! Thank you!!!

Word count - 3,158

Twice Fallen

“Do you accept this charge?”

V swallowed. Only last week he’d been watching his last charge die, silently waiting to perform the final duty of Guardianship – escorting his charge’s soul to the afterlife. It was never easy; it was the first and only time he communicated directly with Michael, using his own voice and body as opposed to working through other beings. Though it wasn’t the first time he brought a charge over, it never got easier.

But he knew his responsibilities. “I accept the charge.”

Bael nodded his approval, acknowledging his apprentice’s adherence to the traditional phrasing as he gestured to the Seeing Pool’s shimmering water. V stepped to the dais to gaze into the water and get his first look at his new charge. The connection formed in his heart as he stared into a delivery room, witnessing a miracle.

But something wasn’t right; a quiver in a spider’s web echoed in his heart. His charge wasn’t breathing. He leaned closer, his white hair draping over his face to dip into the fluid as his eyes narrowed in concern. He reached out with a thin tendril of power, probing to discern what the issue was.

There!

The umbilical cord wrapped around your neck. He needed to be gentle, or he’d only make it worse. He extended another tendril and slid it under the cord, tugging it a few millimeters away from your windpipe as the nurses urged your mother to push. A third tendril snaked out to widen her birth canal just enough to allow your head to pass.

As gloved hands reached out to help you enter the world, fingers pulling the cord away fully, V released the tendrils and leaned back, taking a deep breath to calm his racing heart.

“Well done, Varnaah. Quite an impressive introduction.”

He bowed his head in deference to Elder Saiinov, stepping away from the pool to return to his place in the gallery where he stood vigil as his brethren received their new charges. None of their introductions required their interference, so it was a challenge to maintain his focus. His mind drifted to explore the fresh connection, mapping its structure and reinforcing its strength until the ceremony concluded.

Bael found him afterward, a broad smile on his grizzled features. The Elder crossed his arms and inclined his head in a gesture of respect, according to custom. V responded with the corresponding motion and rose to meet his mentor’s storm colored eyes.

“Truly an impressive display! You’ve grown much.”

V smirked, his pride inflating at the praise as they made their way to his personal chamber, where he would remain until you expired and they assigned him a new charge. Guardianship was fulfilling, but lonely. Always observing but never able to interact, it left most with a level of disconnect that was difficult to overcome.

“Hopefully there won’t be any more excitement for a while,” he replied.

Bael chuckled as they reached the familiar ivory doorway. His mirth faded, his mournful eyes meeting V’s once more as he opened the door.

“I’ll see you in a few decades, old friend. Be well,” V murmured. Bael extended his arm and the two Guardians grasped forearms in farewell.

The years passed quickly. You were a simple charge, with a caring family watching over you. He barely needed to intervene, only needing to provide the occasional soothing aura to grant you pleasant dreams at night. It wasn’t until you were three that events forced him to take direct action.

You played in the yard, swinging a stick around like a sword as you fought invisible foes. The babysitter was inside, occupied with her boyfriend. V fed your imagination, grinning with pleasure at your squeals of joy. His smile vanished as you turned to run into the busy street, darting to fence another enemy in the middle of the road.

His heart stopped as a semi rolled closer to you. The connection pulsed in warning, and he knew beyond a doubt that the truck would kill you. V streaked closer to you, arms outstretched. He tugged your wrists and cushioned your fall against the asphalt, pulling to the left to move you to the perfect spot. He held his breath as the massive truck roared over your small body, tires mere feet away from your arms and legs on either side.

The semi didn’t even slow, the driver oblivious to the near miss as he drove on. You bawled in his ethereal ears as the babysitter sprinted outside, her top still out of place. He released you and let out the breath he’d been holding as her arms pulled you into a reassuring hug. You were safe, and he allowed himself a moment of self-congratulation.

He stepped away from the dais with trembling hands, exhausted from the scare. Perhaps encouraging your play had been a mistake. He needed to be more careful, or he’d lose you.

For the next several years, he was attentive to the point of paranoia. He kept careful watch over your fate, ensuring that the limited amount of pain he allowed you to experience wasn’t too much for you to endure. It made his heart ache when you broke your leg, and he cried when your hamster died. He focused on the fact that growth sometimes required pain, but it brought little comfort.

The next true test of his ability came three months after your thirteenth birthday. The connection twitched and within seconds he was watching through the small pool. You stood in the living room of your home, red faced as you shouted at your father.

“I hate you! I wish you were dead!”

Your small feet stomped to your bedroom as your father’s face fell, and V followed with his calming aura already emanating from his incorporeal form. He watched helplessly as you packed some clothes and toys and climbed out the window, shimmying down an oak tree to reach the ground. The desire to speak directly to you, to explain why your parents were against you going to the slumber party in the trailer park flooded his mind.

By the time you reached the bus station, the rage leaking through the connection had cooled. He sent a powerful gust of wind billowing around you, leaving goosebumps in its wake. You wrapped your arms around yourself and shivered, glancing around you with the first stirrings of doubt. A beat later, you turned around with a sigh and began heading home.

Only two years later, you met a boy. He seemed nice enough but lacked courage, so V had to intervene. Only with the aid of the boy’s Guardian did the lad garner enough bravery to lean over and kiss you, and the smile on your face as the youth pulled back made his head swim.

Barely two months later, you’d first tried to please yourself. Your clumsy efforts proved ineffectual until he’d guided your fingers gently, knowing exactly what to do through the connection. He found himself fascinated by the sounds you made and the expression on your face, and his pale cheeks tinted a strange hue of red as you found satisfaction at last.

In your seventeenth year, you met another boy, this one not so nice. Like with every other charge, as you aged his ability to influence you waned, and he was forced to watch in silent agony as the boy took advantage of your naïve trust. After he left, you cried for hours and he had been right there through every second, using his meager strength to keep you from the depths of despair. It took you many years to overcome the trauma, and every step you took towards healing brought joy to his heart.

When you were twenty, you lived alone and he’d mournfully stayed with you as your solitude grew unbearable. By now, his power over to influence you was spent and all he could do was manipulate lesser creatures or tweak random chance, and it took all his focus to guide a stray dog into your path. It was your choice to take it home, to adopt it and allow it into your heart. You named it Lucky, for the dog’s fortune and for your own.

Now, you were twenty two, and he was beginning to understand his fondnness for you ran deeper than simple responsibility. Guardians always felt something for their charges, but never had he developed a bond so strong, so overwhelmingly powerful. None of his previous charges had evoked such a sense of need, of craving within him. It was his gift and his curse to know the fate of those he Guarded, know how every action would change it. Always, he had stayed objective and allowed just the right amount of pain to strengthen his charges. But with you, he found he wanted to guide you away from any pain whatsoever, protect you from every ill turn.

He found it harder and harder to stay alert as you interacted with men, cringing when you kissed them or touched them. Anytime you coupled, his stomach churned. He tried so hard to fulfill his duties, guiding those he found less abhorrent in how to please you despite his nausea. The few moments you pleased yourself were a blessing, and every time he guided you to fulfillment heat stirred inside him. It drove him mad, this feeling. It built to a towering inferno until he could barely think, and he broke his vigil to relieve the pressure.

He bit his lip to contain his groans, but it proved fruitless as he satisfied the desire with an echoing cry. He froze, his hand still wrapped around his length as someone knocked at his door. He panicked; there was no hiding his actions and he hung his head in shame as he opened the door to reveal Bael, wearing the deepest frown he’d ever seen.

“You know what comes next,” the Elder said simply.

V gulped and nodded, gathering his courage as his mentor led him to the Great Chamber.

“I’m sorry, I meant no harm.”

Bael sighed, pinching the bridge of his flat nose. “The Council will decide the severity of your crimes. It’s out of my hands.”

They covered the remaining distance in silence. V braced himself, knowing exactly what he was in for as Bael entered the chamber without him. Left alone for a few minutes, V pondered how many of the Elder’s laws he’d violated.

Too many.

The enormous door opened once more to reveal Bael gesturing him inside. He took a deep breath and stepped forward, head inclined respectfully. His mentor brought him to the still waters and he obediently plunged his hand in the pool, letting his recollections play on the surface.

He used to think the Great Chamber was beautiful, with its pearlescent pillars and shimmering Seeing Pool. Yet as the twelve Elders bore witness to every moment of his Guardianship over you in those waters, his own memories betraying the depth of his care, the bright glow became overbearing. The purity stifled him and he fidgeted as he waited for the Elders to rise. At last, they turned their disapproving eyes on him and he struggled to display the proper amount of respect.

“You stand accused of developing romantic feelings for your charge, and allowing them to affect the manner in which you performed your duties to the point of negligence. For this crime, you are to be cast out to live amongst the mortals as one of them. So it shall be,” Bael intoned gravely, the remaining eleven Elders echoing his last four words solemnly.

No! I’ll never see her again! Who will protect her now?!

Panic consumed him as Nui, another of the elders approached him with a sympathetic gleam in his gaze. He lowered his ghostly blade and severed the wings from his back, but the physical agony paled compared to the torture in his mind. As tradition dictated, his voice remained bound to silence in these chambers unless given permission and never had the spell seemed so nefarious. All he could do was cry and turn his pleading eyes on each Elder in turn, finding nothing but contempt.

His halo faded into nothingness as Nui drained the last of his angelic power. The Elder stepped away and gestured to Bael. It was his responsibility, as the offender’s mentor to see the sentence fulfilled. They left the chamber behind and the instant speech was within his ability, he opened his mouth.

“No harm has come from my actions, and Father Himself praises love in any form if it be true. You must have mercy,” he begged his oldest friend.

The man walked in silence for a moment, refusing to meet his intent emerald eyes. He was about to continue his protestations when the Elder’s lips opened.

“V, I am being as merciful as I am able considering the circumstances. I am sorry,” he said, using his nickname. And just like that, they reached the Gate of the Forsaken. It was the only way they could traverse the gap between realms, and as Bael strode to set the destination, V’s panic turned to rage.

This is wrong! How can love be a crime? I’ve done nothing to harm her or change her fate! I haven’t even looked past the next year to see what her fate is!

V did not resist when Bael removed his clothing. He only glared, declining to pay any further deference to such hypocrisy. His mentor turned the wheel to open the gate and came to push him through it with a sad sigh. Only then did he react, planting his feet and stubbornly refusing to take a step. Bael gave him a disapproving look and crossed his arms.

“Truly, you are blessed. Many Guardians never learn what it is to love. But it comes at a cost, and nothing you do will change the price.”

The Elder backed away, his mournful gaze holding V’s as a swarm of Heralds dragged him through the gate. He screamed, he cried, he thrashed in their grip, but still he felt the cold embrace of crossing over before everything faded to black.

_________________

He woke in a small alcove, alone and wet under the drizzling clouds. He was naked, the fresh markings from his fall adorning his skin. The cold set in and he shivered. The downpour slicked his newly darkened hair to his forehead as he curled into a ball, not intending to ever move again. He didn’t know or particularly care where he’d landed, only knowing he could no longer tell if you were safe as the connection lay shattered within his heart.

The rain covered his tears, but did nothing to conceal the shake of his shoulders as he cried. Everything he believed, everything he’d been taught over the centuries, meaningless. His most trusted friend had betrayed him. The Elders whom he’d looked up to and respected had cast him out. Love, that which his Father professed to be the most holy of emotions, had led to his fall.

He leaned back, letting the rough bricks support his aching shoulders where his wings once sprouted forth. All that remained was a pair of identical scars, though the physical pain would torment him for weeks. Such suffering to look forward to. His sobs became crazed laughter and he lifted his chin to glare at the sky.

“No more I follow, no more obedience pay!”

Still, his wrath was a violent tempest in his belly. He stood awkwardly and raised a fist to use the gesture he knew was such an insult amongst mortals, extending a single finger and howling curses at the uncaring clouds.

A voice called out to him and he froze, unable to believe what his ears told him.

“Are you okay?”

A cruel trick, no doubt. Bael would never send me to her…

He turned to face the source of the voice and gasped, his rage vanishing into the ether as he stared at your features for an uncomfortably long time.

“Um, are you on drugs? Do you want me to call someone?”

Your concerned tone broke the spell and he blinked, suddenly acutely aware of how he must look. Utterly naked, cursing his fury at the sky in an alley during a storm.

Not the best first impression.

But I’m mortal now… what if I could still be in her life, in this new manner?

V’s heart flew, a new level of understanding rushing through him. Perhaps this was Bael’s plan all along? Was it possible the reason the punishment for loving a charge was to be cast out, was so the offender could pursue that love? Was this some secret tradition, one meant to honor their Father’s intention, honor the sanctity of true love?

He had no idea, but it didn’t matter.

V turned his attention back to you, noticing the way you kept your eyes averted and chewed your lip in embarrassment. He moved to cover his crotch, and you relaxed. Barely.

“I… I must apologize. I’m… well, you could say I’m stranded,” he replied. Your expression shifted to sympathy and you lifted the strap of your purse to offer him your raincoat with a kind smile. He beamed back and donned the jacket, finding it barely covered his groin.

“I live close by, come on. Looks like you need something to eat, too. What’s your name?”

“I’m Var-… You can call me V,” he replied. His nickname felt more suitable and the thought of you speaking his true name turned his stomach. It was too formal, too uptight for the relationship with you he desired. You gave him your name in return, extending a hand to shake his with a smile. His arm trembled as he reached out to touch you for the first time.

Calm down, it’s just a gesture of greeting.

The texture of your skin was ethereal, soft beyond imagining. Even such a simple contact made him smile widely, his long fingers pumping your palm for a beat longer than was normal. He didn’t want to let go, and his lips faltered when you released him.

“Nice to meet you, V,” you said.

“Likewise.”

You smiled and turned to walk away, glancing back to make sure he followed. He took a moment to whisper his thanks to the sky above, and he swore he heard Bael’s unmistakable chuckle as he joined you. He smirked, imagining his mentor looking down on him as he accompanied you home just like Lucky had, all those years ago.

#fanfic #v x reader #my writing #writing prompt #ask response

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pastelwitchling · 6 years ago

Text

This prompt request is courtesy of @bickbickbarnes.

I’m just super exited there are ten malex focus to look forward too! Here’s a prompt in case I get in the ten limit: Michael gets upset when he sees what his relationship with Maria has done to Alex and Maria’s friendship. He confronts Alex about it. Alex doesn’t take no shit.

***

Alex had just loaded his third cardboard box into his car when a familiar truck pulled into his driveway. Alex lightly hit his right leg as Michael parked and climbed out, and he sighed, heading back into his cabin without so much as a word to the cowboy.

Michael watched as Alex brought another box out, his brows furrowing. “What’re you doing?”

“Packing,” Alex said, and after putting the box inside, he leaned against the car. “Did you want something?”

“Uh,” Michael stared at the boxes, then said, “I – uh – just wanted to check on you, you know, we never really got to talk after…”

Alex raised a brow. “After you left me waiting outside your trailer while you went to make out with my…” he shook his head, “Maria? No, I guess we didn’t, but,” he shrugged, “somehow, I’ve survived.”

“Alex –”

“That was two months ago,” Alex sniffed. “Where’ve you been? Busy?”

Michael pursed his lips and looked like he was debating something. In the end, his expression turned unreadable, and Alex saw the answer coming before it even left Michael’s lips.

“Kinda.”

Alex waited for an explanation, anything to tell him that Michael thought he was worth telling, that Michael couldn’t help but tell him, but he knew he was waiting in vain. Michael never told him anything.

“Let me guess,” he said, already turning back to the cabin, “I don’t need to know.” He heard Michael follow him inside. “Why’re you really here, Guerin?”

“I talked to… Maria,” Michael trailed off, and Alex turned to him with a raised brow to see him eying Alex’s cabin, all the boxes, the couches covered with white sheets, everything either packed away or protected from dust. “She – uh – she’s been really upset. Told me you guys weren’t talking, and she… she misses you.”

Michael looked to Alex as if he couldn’t help but agree, and it made Alex sick.

He swallowed, smirking humorlessly as he said, “And you came to settle things for her. What a sweet boyfriend.”

Michael stared. “You really can’t stand me right now, can you?”

“No,” Alex said. “I really can’t.”

And he bent down to pick up another box, ignoring the pain in his leg. He couldn’t remember the last time he had sat down. He could feel Michael watching him.

“You moving closer to town?”

“Nope,” Alex said. “I’m leaving Roswell.”

Michael frowned. “What?”

“I said I’m leaving Roswell,” he said. “I have a flight tomorrow morning to New York.”

“New York? For what?”

“They’ve been offering me a job since my enlistment ended,” Alex said. “I took it.”

“Well,” Michael looked a little lost, “when’re you coming back?”

Alex sighed. “I’m not.”

“What?” Michael said, blocking his path to the door. “Alex, wait – seriously? You’re just leaving?”

Alex settled the box on the couch with a huff, his arms aching. He leaned on it a moment, silent, then shook his head and said, “I’ve always hated this town. I hate the narrowminded people, and their pathetic insults. I hate how everywhere I look, I see his face, telling me that I’m just like him.” He lifted the box, avoiding Michael’s eyes. “I need to get out of here.”

“Whoa, whoa, wait a minute,” he exclaimed, looking semi-panicked as he took the box from Alex’s hands and set it on the ground. “This is – I mean, this is a joke, right? You’re not actually leaving.”

Alex sighed. “Yes, Guerin, I actually am.”

“What – What about Maria? And Liz? I know you’re upset with them, Alex, but they’re your family.”

“Why does my family always have to be screwed up?” he snapped. “Huh? Why can’t I have somebody like – like Max, or – or Isobel? Someone who’d rather die than hurt me?” He huffed a miserable chuckle. “For the love of – Kyle has been more family to me than Maria and Liz combined.”

Michael’s frowned deepened, and he shook his head. “You don’t mean that. Alex, come on, I know you’re upset with Maria right now, but –”

“No,” Alex cut him off, “you really don’t know, Guerin. You know, for the longest time, I thought a kind, caring family – the kind you read about – was just something meant for other people. Not me. And then I got Liz and Maria, and I thought maybe I was wrong. Maybe the universe wasn’t punishing me for being a Manes, because at least I had them.” He released a shaky breath. “Then they decided that my heart just,” he shrugged, “wasn’t that important. And Maria…”

“Alex…”

Alex sighed, rubbing his face. “I’m tired of coming in last. I want someone who puts me first. Damn it, after everything, I think I’ve earned it, and I’m tired of being made to feel like I don’t.”

Michael said nothing, and Alex, knowing he wouldn’t, bent down to get his box. Michael stopped him, holding his arms. “Wait, okay, just – just, listen to me. I’ll end it, okay? I’ll end it, just stay, Alex, please don’t – don’t leave me here.”

Alex moved out of Michael’s hold. Man, he was exhausted. “Get out of my way.”

“You’ve hurt me before,” he said, stepping closer, taking Alex’s face in his hands, his grip tight. “You’ve walked away from me, you’ve broken my heart.”

“Well then,” Alex whispered, refusing to let the tears gathering in his eyes fall, “at least you’ve gotten even.”

“No, I,” he shook his head, resting his forehead against Alex’s, “I didn’t – I didn’t want to get even, that’s not what I… I was just trying to –”

“To guilt me into listening to you?” Alex asked. “What? What were you trying to do?”

“Alex,” Michael breathed, his brows furrowed, as if he couldn’t understand how Alex could talk to him this way. “When I said I was going to leave, you said you didn’t want me to. I’m asking you not to leave now, please. Look, we’ll work it out, okay? I’ll fix this.”

“There is no fixing this, Guerin,” he said, trying to move, but Michael stepped closer, his grip tightening. “Let go of me!”

“I love you,” he said. “Doesn’t that mean anything to you? I love you, Alex!”

“I know that!” Alex said, finally managing to push him away. “And you went to Maria anyway.”

Michael’s arms fell to his side, and by the look on his face, Alex knew he had no defense, nothing to say for himself or Maria, nothing that Alex wanted to hear.

Alex picked up his box, and said, “Get off my property, Guerin, before I call the sheriff.”

Without another word from either of them, Alex walked out, hoping – for the first time – that when he came back, Michael would be gone.

***

I’m so sorry if this wasn’t what you had in mind, but I have to say, I saw your prompt, and I was like, Yes, that’s right, Alex shouldn’t take any sh*t from them! and I just kind of... went with it.

I really hope you enjoyed reading it regardless, and I have to say, I enjoyed writing it, if only to get some bitter feelings out. I mean........ UGH, he deserves SO much better, it’s unbelievable! 😫

Anyway... I got a lot of new prompts, so thank you so much to everyone who’s been submitting! I hope I do your imaginations justice 💞

#malex #alex manes #michael guerin #malex one-shot #malex fanfic #malex fanfiction #malex fic #roswell new mexico #roswell nm #malex prompt #malex prompt list #malex prompt request #malex angst #malex fluff #tyler blackburn #michael vlamis #gay #love

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seeaddywrite · 6 years ago

Note

“Everything you think I need isn’t what I need. What I need is you.” take your pic I'll be stoked with anything you write

for you, @ubiestcaelum! i hope you like it :) [also, y’all, just in case: warnings for non-graphic panic attack & references to child abuse & PTSD.]

EDIT: Now with a companion fic from Alex’s POV.

want to send a prompt?

Michael has no idea how to help Alex on bad days. The airman had been right, when he came to the trailer and pointed out that they don’t really know each other – they’ve never spent a lot of time talking. As teenagers, they had to sneak around to spend time together, and there were far more interesting things to do. And then, well – after that, there was never enough time. They’ve been better about it lately, while trying to learn how to be friends, but Michael still doesn’t know how Alex lost his leg, or what to do when the other man turns pale and withdrawn in the middle of the Wild Pony during a particularly raucous bar fight.

The crowd is thick and loud around them, talking and laughing as Max’s coworkers haul the two combatants out the front door. Everyone else sitting around their table returns to their conversations; Liz is leaning against Max’s shoulder, laughing at something he murmured in her ear, while Isobel and Kyle Valenti toss verbal barbs back and forth across their beers. And all the while, Alex seems to get smaller and smaller, pulling into himself and

It blows his mind that no one else seems to notice how Alex has pulled away from the conversation and looks like he’s about to puke. He smiles and nods along when he’s forced, but Michael can see the facade, and the way it seems to slip lower with each passing second. He glances at Liz, hiding it with a long drag from his beer bottle. She’s one of Alex’s best friends; surely, she’d notice Alex’s tension? The way none of his smiles reach his eyes, or the slight trembling in his fingers when he forgets to grip the bottle in his hands tightly enough to hide it?

But even if Liz knows Alex well enough to pick up on the signs that he’s so good at hiding, she’s too lost in Max to notice tonight. He almost wishes he could be that oblivious … but for the past two months of friendship with Alex, he’s made a study of the man’s tells and nonverbal cues. He has an intimate knowledge of the slope of his shoulders and the lines in his face, and can close his eyes and picture exactly the way Alex looks when he’s relaxed and smiling. It’s a little pathetic, he supposes, his inability to look away from Alex. It’s been made clear, time and time again, that Alex doesn’t want Michael as anything more than a friend, and friends definitely don’t do that sort of thing. But there’s no switch to flip, no way to force himself to let go of the feelings he’s had since the day he stole Alex’s guitar from the music room, and Michael doesn’t think he’d do it, even if he could.

“Alex?” No one else is going to do anything, and Michael is physically incapable of watching Alex struggle alone right in front of him. “Hey, you good, man?” He keeps his voice quiet, and leans forward so that only the intended recipient of his whisper will hear. Michael knows enough of who Alex is to know that he wouldn’t want attention brought to the faraway look in his eyes, and he certainly wouldn’t want anyone fussing over him. So, uncertain as he is, Michael shoves his own chair between the others and Alex, shielding him from view with the bulk of his body, and tentatively reaches out to brush his fingertips against the back of Alex’s hand in an effort to get his attention.

A full-body flinch is the response, and Michael yanks his hand back as Alex finally turns his head to look at him, the motion jerky. Awkward silence falls between them, even as someone turns the music back up on the jukebox in the corner, and Michael rubs at the back of his neck uncertainly. “You want to get out of here?” he asks finally, after another minute of staring, wherein it seems like Alex is trying to say something without opening his mouth, and all Michael can worry about it overstepping one of the many lines that have been drawn between them.

The responding nod is immediate, if a little uncoordinated. They didn’t come together, but Michael doesn’t think he can just walk Alex to his car and watch him drive off like this. What if he’s too distracted to drive safely? What if there’s something really wrong, and he shouldn’t be left alone? There are too many questions and Michael’s too chicken-shit to ask for the answers. He’s been shoved out of Alex’s life so many times that he’s still recovering from the whiplash, and Michael doesn’t know if he can take another round. But Alex is looking at him with something bordering desperation in his familiar, dark gaze, and Michael isn’t soulless enough to let that look go unanswered.

“Guys, I’m gonna call it a night,” Michael announces to their assembled friends, standing up from his chair and shoving it back into place beneath the table.

“Michael Guerin, calling it a night after one drink?” Isobel teases, lifting her lined eyes to his. “No way! Stay here and drink with us!” She’s already pretty drunk, judging by the way her speech slurs and she doesn’t make a single disparaging remark about the bar. Max is going to have a hell of a time getting her home, but he’s got Liz and Valenti for backup, and it’s not like she doesn’t deserve to try to drink her sorrows away after everything she’s been through in the past few months.

“I’ll see you for dinner at your place tomorrow,” he promises her, leaning forward to brush his lips to the top of her hair. Michael glances at Max while she can’t see him, and his brother nods once, a resigned quirk of his lips obvious only to those who knew him well. He’s as worried about Isobel as Michael is, but nothing but time is going to heal the wounds that Noah left in their sister, and for now, Alex is a more pressing concern.

He turns back to the other man after he finishes his goodbyes. He’s still pale, but seems to have pulled himself together enough to wave at the others. Then, Alex gestures down at his leg with a small sigh, glancing at Michael and then away, like he’s ashamed of something. “Think you could give me a hand?” The question is quiet and a little strained, but hearing Alex’s voice relaxes Michael a little. At least if he’s still talking, things can’t be that bad. Can they?

Without a word, Michael holds out his hands. Months ago, he would’ve just grabbed him by the waist and pulled him up, relishing in the proximity of their bodies. But things are different now, and the only way he touches Alex now is if the other man makes the first overture. He doesn’t have to wait long; Alex’s shaking fingers wrap around Michael’s steady hands, and he pulls him up out of the chair, automatically taking his weight when he stumbles. Vaguely, Michael hears Max and Liz asking if they need help, but he just waves them off and makes sure Alex is steady before starting toward the entrance of the bar. They’ll have plenty of questions to answer when they face their friends again, and most of them will probably be annoying and nosy, but that’s a problem for later.

The moment they’re outside, Alex stops pretending that he’s supporting himself and slumps against Michael’s chest in a rare show of vulnerability. His cheek rests against the top of Michael’s shoulder, Alex’s rapid breath making the side of his neck feel humid and sending a ticklish thrill down his spine. “Hey,” Michael murmurs, wondering what the hell he’s supposed to do with his hands, now. He can’t let go without worrying that Alex will fall, but part of him is afraid that the longer he holds on, the harder it will be when he has to let go. “You okay?”

Alex’s responding chuckle is mirthless. “You already know the answer to that,” he says, the strain of holding casual conversation obvious in his voice.

Michael doesn’t bother to deny it. “You checked out on us during that fight. You faked it pretty well for a while, but I – I could tell something was wrong.” It’s as close to asking what’s going on in Alex’s head as he’s going to get. “You want me to take you home? Maria won’t let anyone tow your SUV.” Talking so nonchalantly is harder than it should be with Alex’s warmth seeping into him. This is the closest they’ve been since they had sex before that night at the drive-in, and Michael wants to bury his head in the sand and pretend that the proximity isn’t just because Alex is looking for any port in a storm.

“I can –”

“If you’re about to try to tell me you can drive home, save it. I know you’re a badass, okay? I know you can take care of yourself, and you don’t want me around when you feel like shit because we’re just friends, or whatever your problem is this time. But your hands are shaking, and I’m not letting you drive until I’m sure you’re going to make it the whole way out to that cabin safely.” God, why is it so fucking hard for Alex to let Michael help, just a little? He’s not asking to spend the night! He just wants to make sure he’s safe. Are they really on such bad terms now that he can’t care at all?

There’s a beat of silence. “I was just going to say that I can send her a text tomorrow and ask her to have someone drive it to the cabin,” Alex says, so quietly that Michael can barely hear it. His entire body has gone rigid, and before Michael can figure out what the problem is, he’s pulling away to stand on his own. “I’d appreciate the ride. If you don’t mind.”

The formality makes Michael want to rip his hair out of his head, but he bites back a snappish reply and just nods to his truck, parked almost directly in front of them. He wants to ask if Alex can get in on his own; he seems awfully unsteady on his feet, still, and Michael assumes that something has gone wrong with his bad leg, but again, the questions just turn into a lump in his throat. Alex manages on his own, though, rendering that a moot point, so Michael walks around and climbs into the driver’s side silently.

Neither of them speak for the first ten minutes. Alex spends the time with his hands curled into fists on his thighs, his face pale and drawn in the moonlight that shines through the windshield. He doesn’t seem to be any better now that they’ve left the bar, which Michael had hoped would be enough. But it isn’t, and he’s not able to just leave things this way. “What happened?” he asks finally, the question shattering the tense silence.

“The guy Hank punched fell on me,” Alex answers abruptly, the words short and terse. “Just for a minute. But my damn leg has been aching all day, and he jolted the prosthetic. It hurts, and I don’t – I can’t –” His breath is coming so rapidly that it sounds like he’s panting, and Michael looks toward him, ready to pull over as soon as Alex gives him a reason. “I panic, sometimes. When it hurts. It’s stupid, and there’s no fucking reason for it, but -”

Michael thinks he gets it. Sometimes, when his hand spasms in the middle of the night, he wakes up sure that Jesse Manes is in the trailer with him. It always takes some time for his heart to stop racing, after that, and he never quite manages to fall back to sleep. Alex’s trauma is so much worse; it doesn’t surprise him that the same thing might happen in his case without the added disorientation of sleep. “Panic doesn’t usually need a reason,” he says evenly. “Anything I can do to help?”

They’re pulling into Alex’s driveway now, and Michael can practically see his chance to be with Alex and actually do something to help slipping away. Alex will go inside to lick his wounds privately, and Michael will be left on the other side of the door, waiting and wondering and wishing, until he’s forced to give up and leave.

As soon as the engine turns off, Michael finds himself locked in a staring contest with Alex, who’s eyes have that same desperate and expectant look in them from back at the bar. Michael returns the look helplessly, wordlessly conveying that he doesn’t know what Alex wants or needs from him. “Alex –”

There’s no time to finish the thought before the other man has his hands in a death grip, clutching so tightly that Michael can feel his fingernails break skin. It makes his bad hand ache a little, but that’s not nearly a good enough reason to pull away from Alex. In fact, Michael could have been bleeding out, and he would’ve still held Alex’s hand. “Don’t make me ask, Guerin.” The whisper catches him by surprise, and Michael’s mouth closes with a surprised snap. “Please?”

“Isobel’s the mind reader, Alex,” he retorts, a hint of defensiveness running through the words despite his best efforts. “I can’t just look in your head to figure out if you need space, or a ride, or hand to hold, or whatever it is you’re angling for right now. You’ve gotta actually say it.”

Alex sighs, and shakes his head. “Everything you think I need isn’t what I need,” he says, and for the first time in the last hour, his gaze is steady. “I mean, maybe the handholding thing would be nice, but I’ve had so much space lately that I can’t stand it. This isn’t going to get any better, Michael.” His fingers tremble around Michael’s hands, and wordlessly, Michael reverses them, so that he’s holding Alex’s clasped palms between both of his, keeping them still. Alex stares down at their entwined hands for a long moment, biting at his lower lip, as if he can’t decide how to finish, or how much he should say.

“I’ve been trying to stay away from you until I get my head together, because I don’t know that I can be what you need, right now. And it’s not fair for me to keep running away every time you help me keep it together. I’m a fucking mess, and I don’t – Jesus, Michael, some days I can’t even get out of bed. What kind of man does that? What kind of boyfriend could I be? But – I think, maybe – what I need is you. If there’s even still a chance of that.”

Michael just stares at Alex for a long moment, trying to put that speech and its ramifications into the boundaries and lines drawn between him and Alex. It doesn’t fit, it doesn’t make sense – but it does, at the same time. Because of course Alex thinks he’s a mess. Of course Alex has been struggling since he lost his leg. It’s so ingrained in Alex to think that’s he’s the problem, that his issues are an inconvenience thanks to his fucked-up, psychopathic father – and Michael should have known that. He should have been here a long time ago, rather than sulking about his broken heart.

But he’s here now, and he can’t change the past.

“Ask me,” he says, bringing Alex’s hands up to press his lips to shaking fingers. “Just ask, Alex.”

Uncertainty wars with hope in Alex’s eyes, and Michael wants to reassure him, to tell him to forget the words, and just take him inside and wrap him up in his arms, if that’s what Alex wants. But there’s a chasm between them, put there by years of mistakes and harsh words on both sides, and Michael needs to know, beyond a shadow of a doubt, what Alex’s expectations are. What he wants. Because if he fucks this up now, Michael doesn’t know if he’ll be able to come back from it.

“Stay,” Alex says finally, his voice cracking. “Just – stay.” His hands break free of Michael’s and scrabble at his shoulders in an attempt to pull him closer, or maybe hold him there, like he’s afraid the word will send him running. And Michael doesn’t hesitate; he leans awkwardly over the center console and hugs Alex tightly, ignoring the damn thing as it pushes into his side.

“You’re okay,” he promises, one hand cradling the back of Alex’s head while the man burrows into the space between his shoulder and neck, his entire body trembling. “Just breathe, Alex. I’m not going anywhere.”

There’s more to be said, he knows, but Michael isn’t cruel enough to make Alex spell it all out tonight. He got what he needed; for now, he’s going to give Alex what he asked for. And maybe, when all’s said and done, they can keep each other from falling apart.

#malex fic #michael guerin/alex manes #my fic #this feels a little off #but i like the overall feel #so i'm posting it anyway

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