Archive of Our Own

When Alex was eight years old, his father took him with him to work. Young Alex had been excited, thinking his father wanted to spend some time with him, alone, but that excitement had died down when he'd left him in an office with strict instructions to not leave the room.

Alex, like any eight year old in his position, didn't listen.

He snuck out of the office and did his best to go unseen. On the other end of the hallway, a couple of men in uniform were coming down the stairs and Alex realized that in a few minutes, he would be caught if he didn't hide. He was lucky enough on that moment to find a room with its door wide open, and he understood seconds later why it was. Two men wheeled in what looked like a cage inside the big room and Alex followed after them, a sence of morbid fascination driving him close rather than away.

Inside the cage was an old woman. 

She looked tired, her hands wrapped around the metal bars of the cage she was trapped in. Her blonde hair was dirty and her eyes were sad. Alex, too young, too innocent, had felt the need to help her. He rose up from his crouched position behind some crates, but before he could get anywhere near the cage, four other people came into the room and the woman was pulled out of the cage.

She tried to fight, but stopped when one of the men holding her slapped her. Alex flinched and tried not to remember his father doing the same thing to his mother. He watched as she was strapped down to a chair, and he saw a woman, wearing a white coat like his doctor's, inject her with something. He winced in sympathy as the woman screamed; he hated needles, too. 

Everyone in the room gathered around her, all quiet and serious and waiting for something. So Alex waited too, and when things in the room started to rattle and fall off shelves, he panicked and crawled back, huddling into the corner of the room. Everyone in the room seemed scared, but none more so than the woman herself. She kept screaming, and try as he might, Alex couldn't understand a word she was saying.

With his determination to help her renewed, Alex did his best to quietly move towards her as everyone seemed to move away. An alarm sounded in the distance and the next thing he knew, her eyes were locked with his. He moved one step closer and everything seemed to stop. He froze, and when he was able to move, he saw that everyone was watching him.

The doctor was looking at him funny, and when he smiled, it sent shivers down Alex's spine. "Get Staff Sergeant Manes in here. Now."

Alex swallowed, hard. He chanced a look at the woman, only to find her watching him, eyes wide and scread, her mouth open in a soundless scream.

He wondered if the look on her face meant she was scared of him now, and he wondered why she would be.

"Again!"

Ten year old Alex swallowed thickly and lifted his shaking hands up, trying and failing to push himself further. "Dad, I can't-"

The breath was knocked out of him when his dad's fist caught him in the stomach. He winced, but didn't make a sound as he straightened up. 

"Again."

Alex willed his arms to stop shaking, willed his powers to just work with him for once and was rewarded when the force field expanded and finally, finally, reached its mark. The alien, because apparently aliens were real and his dad had a prison full of them, was rendered powerless the second the force field reached him. His eyes widened in fear, or maybe hatred, as he looked at Alex, his hand clutching desperately at his chest. 

Alex's heart ached. 

It had been two years since his dad had discovered his unique abilities to neutralize alien powers and ever since then, Alex had been his Guinea pig. Blood tests and experiments, both physical and chemical, were now the new norm for Alex. Wearing long sleeves wasn't just to cover up the bruises anymore, but also to cover the needle marks. Alex, more than anything, wanted to go back to that day, two years ago, and just stay in the office. Maybe then he wouldn't have to be forced to strip people of their powers or watch as his father's men tortured them in an effort to provoke them, just to test out how strong his powers really were. 

So far, nothing manged to break through. And when his father realized that, his efforts turned to trying to expand on Alex's powers. So far, there was exactly zero progress and his father was getting more and more frustrated. Alex was convinced a this point that it would be a miracle if he managed to stay alive to see his eleventh birthday.

The thought was as scary as it was comforting. At least if he was dead, these prisoners would stop hurting because of him. Alex knew that thee looks of fear, of helplessness and pain on the faces of the people his father forced him to use his powers on would forever be etched in his memories. He couldn't close his eyes without seeing them and they were likely to stay with him until the day he died, maybe even after that. 

"Alright, that's enough for today," his father said, clearly unhappy. 

It's enough for a lifetime.

Twelve year old Alex couldn't tear his eyes away from the man who was banging his fists on the glass of the cell he was in. The man's desperation was palpable, and Alex could feel a vice clenching around his heart as he saw tears run down the man's sunken cheeks. He wanted to comfort him, but realized when the man's eyes found his and he instantly shuddered, that his presence to these people was nothing but a source of pain. 

When he turned around, Alex suddenly understood why the man seemed ready to crawl out of his own skin.

His father had a woman, the one who was in the cell opposite the man's cell, in a headlock, with a gun pointed at her head. Once he was standing beside Alex, who had frozen in horror, he began to speak. "That one is a healer, and this one-" he shook the woman in his arms. "-is its mate."

"Mate?"

His father rolled his eyes. "Lover, girlfriend," he spat out, disgusted. "Whatever you want to call it. This here, is a little experiment." 

Alex only understood the implication seconds before his father unholstered his gun. His blood ran cold and he stared, uncomprehending, as his father pushed the woman away and shot her right in the chest. 

The man's sobs echoed in the following silence and when Jesse ordered his men to drag her body into the healer's cell, he was confused. "You want him to heal her?" 

His father smiled, the curl of his lips so cruel that it sent a shiver down Alex's spine. "Dad?"

"You're going to use your power on him. And we're gonna see if even love isn't strong enough to break through."

Just two days ago, Alex had snuck into his dad's office and read some of the files that detailed some of the experiments Alex had been involved in. He'd  only skimmed the files, had done his best to not read the gory details of everything that had been done, with his help, to those aliens and had tried to skip to the parts that discussed his powers' effect on the aliens. He'd been horrified to learn that his powers not only neutralized theirs, but they also physicslly hurt them. He hadn't realized it when he was younger, but looking back on it now, Alex couldn't deny the truth. The aliens had feared him, had despised him, because just by being near them, Alex caused them pain. From what Alex had gathered, his proximity seemed to drain the life out of them.

"Do it," his father snapped, breaking him out of his thoughts. 

Alex only had to think for one second before he had his answer. "No."

"No?"

Alex shook his head, and they watched as the man healed his lover, clutching at her desperately as his father's men ripped her from his arms before she was even fully awake. She was pushed onto her knees in front of his father. 

He shot her again, with no hesitation, and his eyes never left Alex's. "Use. Your. Powers." 

"No." 

Alex wasn't stupid. He'd read up about these aliens and he knew none of the healers in here could bring someone back from the dead. That meant his father would be forced to have the alien heal her every time he shot her.

He also knew that the healer would eventually grow weak enough to not be able to heal anymore and that would force his father to stop shooting the woman altogether.

It was simply a waiting game.

The consequences of his actions would be very painful, but at the very least he wouldn't have someone's blood on his hands. He wasn't innocent, that ship had sailed a long time ago, but pain, he knew, was something these aliens could survive. It was a small comfort that had done little to soothe his soul, but it had helped on the days be couldn't see a way out of this hell. Death, on the other hand, was permanent and being the cause of it was not something Alex thought he could survive. 

He looked to the side and bitterly shook his head as he saw the scanner in one doctor's hand. That scanner was the only thing stopping him from faking it, seeing as it seemed to detect his forcefisld with deadly accuracy. 

His father aimed the gun at the woman's chest, again, and raised an eyebrow at Alex, who shook his head, jaw set stubbornly. The woman looked to the man and said something in their language. She chocked on her words as his dad shot her again.

Then he did it again.

And again.

By the tenth time, Alex was crying freely now, on his knees. So were some of the other prisoners,  the ones in nearby cells. His father's men seemed uncomfortable, though not enough to do anything about his barbaric actions. 

His father was unaffected. 

He brought his gun to her chest again and Alex noted that it never wavered. 

He hated him.

"Last chance, Alex. Use your powers." 

"No."

In one smooth move, his father's hand rose up and the gun was now aimed at the woman's head. To Alex's horror, he didn't ask him again if he wanted to change his mind. 

He fired.

And the woman stayed dead this time.

Alex Manes was thirteen years old when he died. Or at least, that was what the paper said. Tragic fire in the toolshed his grandfather, Harlan, had built. 

His father reminded him, at every opportunity, that this was  his fault for not obeying his direct orders a few months ago. Alex didn't regret what he'd done exactly, because he'd been trying to help, trying to save her.

According to the cheesy romance novels Dr. Kepner kept stashed in the box under her desk, love was a strange and powerful thing, but Alex knew better. Love simply couldn't have been strong enough to overcome his powers because othing ever was. And because of that, he'd been sure, without a shadow of a doubt, the the outcome would have been the same; the woman would have died either way, and though it was selfish in many ways, Alex was glad that if it had to happen, at least it wasn't directly his doing and at least he'd tried to help instead of blindly obeying his father's orderes.

Alex heard footsteps coming closer and he held his breath, hoping against hope they didn't stop by his cell.

He wasn't that lucky. His father entered his cell, belt in hand, with the buckle dragging behind him, the sound serving as a sick prelude to his pain.

Alex clenched his jaw and allowed himself one second to let his fear take hold of him, let himself regret the disobedience before he braced himself for the pain and pushed every thought away; all except one.

Pain was better than indifference. If he had to feel only one of those, then he would gladly choose the pain every time.

When his cell door opened, Alex resisted the urge to scramble back and instead forced himself to stay still. 

"Hands forward, M-90." 

Alex did as he was told and didn't wince as the guard tightened the cuffs around his hands to the point where Alex felt them going numb almost instantly. He was dragged into a room filled with scientists and strapped into a chair. The position he was in was eerily similar to the one he'd found the old woman in when he was eight and he found himself wondering what had happened to her.

"Hey, Dr. Kepner!" He greeted the woman, faking cheeriness. He strived to make them all uncomfortable, this doctor more than anyone. She was the head scientist, and she was the one who decided to dedicate her life to concocting special kinds of torture. "What's my poison today?"

She avoided his eyes. "Alex-"

"Subject M-90," he reminded her and enjoyed the way she swallowed thickly. 

"I tried to help you. Your- Staff Sergeant Manes gave you a choice."

"Aww, it's cute that you think that was a choice, doc. You see, to normal people, a choice between hurting someone and getting hurt isn't much of a choice."

She shook her head and gave him a look that could have been classified as pity if it weren't for the disdain clear on her face. "They're not human. These creatures are dangerous."

Alex scoffed. "And humans are so much better, right?"

She ignored him and looked behind her to one of the techs. "Prep him."

Alex didn't resist when the hands on his shoulders pushed him back. He didn't flinch when the needle, the one containing the paralytic agent, was jabbed into his arm. He didn't know why he had to be awake but unable to move during some of the tests done to him, and he wasn't sure he wanted to know. He'd stopped asking questions, stopped caring, a long time ago. 

He accepted the pain, and tried to take comfort in the fact that at least while he was hurting, he wasn't being used to hurt anyone. 

Alex was also thankful that his father had stopped ordering him to use his powers, had given up on him, because Alex truly wasn't sure how much he could have last before he caved, just to stop the pain.

At sixteen years old, Alex had given up the hope of ever making it out of Caulfield. Experimenting had stopped approximately two years ago and now he was merely a prisoner instead of a lab rat. Alex felt hopelessness crawl at his throat as he stared at the wall, desperate for something, anything to happen. 

In the past two years, he'd tried everything to think of to escape and when that hadn't worked, he'd attempted to steal his guards' guns more than once. He'd managed it only once, had gotten as far as  putting the gun in his mouth, tears of relief straming down his face. But then the gun had been knocked out of his hand and he'd not been given a meal for three days as his punishment.

He hadn't tried again.

Alex was twenty years old the first time an alien was forced into a cell with him. She, unlike any of the others, didn't seem to be afraid of him. Her eyes were kind, and soft and he wondered how she was able to hold onto that kindness after everything that had been done to her. She smiled and he felt something settle inside of him. 

"My name is Nora," she told him. "What's yours?"

"Alex," his voice cracked from disuse. "Why are you in here?"

She shrugged, smiling wryly. "Who knows?" 

A knock on the glass jolted them both and they looked at the glass door to see a stern looking guard glaring at Nora. The woman stood up with difficulty and Alex made an aborted motion to help her up before he stepped further back. She extended her hand to him and smiled again when he shook his head and backed himself into the wall. "It's alright, Alex." 

"No! I'll hurt you. Please just stay back."

She shook her head sadly. "I'm not supposed to." 

"What?" 

Another knock seemed to spur her on and when her hand touched his, he wanted to recoil away, but he had no where to go. "They must be testing out a new serum of some kind," she explained softly. 

Alex held his breath, waiting for her to scream, to back away from him, but that didn't come. Instead, she seemed to be studying him intently. She must have noticed how scared he was because she cupped his face in her hands, wiping away the tears Alex hadn't noticed had escaped. 

"Tell me, Alex," she began, a mischievous smile on her face. "Do you know how to dance?"

"What?" He laughed in disbelief.

"I miss dancing," she told him wistfully, taking his hand in hers and leading him to the center of the room. "I don't know if I'll ever get a chance to dance with someone again. Humor me?" 

His hands shook in hers as she took one hand and placed it on her narrow waist and kept the other held in hers. She gently began to sway in place and he did his best to follow along. Her eyes were sad, wistful, and he resisted the need to ask her why she seemed so distant all of a sudden. 

"Why am I not hurting you?" He muttered, feeling warm and safe all of a sudden. 

She hummed. "I don't know."

A knock on the door jolted him out of the trancelike state he'd been in, and they pulled apart. 

The guard motioned for Nora to come forward and she nodded. She looked back at Alex and smiled brilliantly. "Thank you for the dance."

He watched her leave with an ache in his chest and wondered if he would ever get to see her again.

Ten years. 

It had been ten miserable years since Alex had had any contact with anyone but his guards. He was twenty eight years old and at the end of his rope and that was when the alarms started blaring. He sat up and tried to muster the energy to actually care about what was happening. When he couldn't, he lay back down and ignored the wailing alarms. Alex heard the sounds of gunshots and wondered idly if the aliens had finally managed to break out. He dismissed the though almost immediately, though, on account of them all being senior citizens and so weak they could barely do anything more than walk back and forth in their cells. More gunshots, more screaming and Alex smiled viciously. He hoped this placed burned to the ground. 

When there was a frantic knock on the glass door of his cell, Alex sighed and lazily turned his head to the side. He sprang up when the person at the door wasn't one of his guards, but a beautiful, curly-haired man who seemed to be trying to say something as he repeatedly banged on the door. Alex raised an eyebrow and pointed at his ears, and be cracked a smile when the man rolled his eyes and stepped back. He raised a hand and his face scrunched up adorably. Alex was so lost in watching him that it took him more than it should've to recognize what he was trying to do. 

His eyes widened and he scrambled out of the bed, shouting and waving his hands, asking him to stop in the only way he knew how. The man was confused, but his hand only lowered for a second before he lifted it back up. Alex banged on the door again to try to get his attention, and the other man angrily shook his head, shoulders and arms lifting in exasperation. 

Alex pointed at the man's hands, then at the door. He mimed, to the best of his ability, explosion. He was glad the glass was sound proof, because it prevented the man from hearing the embarrassing sound effects that accompanied his movements. 

The man's eyes widened and he looked to the side, screaming and waving his hands wildly. Alex rested his head against the glass, relieved. When he opened his eyes, Alex found the man much closer than he had been earlier.

He said something slowly, but Alex had trouble understanding him, so he shook his head. The man then pointed at himself and either said the word aloud or mouthed it silently. Alex wasn't all that good at lip reading, apparently, and it took them a few tries for him to finally get the word.

Michael. 

"Michael," he muttered, testing the name and the other man nodded. 

Alex mimicked him and pointed his index finger at his own chest. "Alex," he whispered slowly and the other man's whole face lit up as he repeated the name. 

Another man, the embodiment of tall, dark and handsome came into view and gave Michael a sheet of paper. He only spared Alex a glance before he patted Michael's shoulder and took off. Michael entered a series of numbers on the dash and Alex hastily backed away from the door, plastering himself against the wall.

When the door slid open, Michael attempted to step into the cell with him. Alex shook his head frantically. "No!" He froze, one foot inside and one out and stared at Alex questioningly. "You can't come in; I- I'm dangerous and I'll only hurt you if you come any closer."

Michael shook his head. "It's okay-"

"No, it's not, stay back!" 

"Okay. Okay, what do you suggest we do, then?" Michael snapped, urgency evident in his voice and in his body language. 

"get everyone out and leave." 

Michael shook his head immediately. "We're not doing that."

Alex growled, frustrated. "Why the hell do you even care? You don't know me."

"It doesn't matter. You shouldn't stay in this place any longer than you have to. Now can you please come with us?" 

Alex eyed him wearily and sighed when the other man jutted his jaw out stubbornly. "Fine. But promise me you'll keep your distance, no matter what."

Michael hesitated, but eventually nodded. "Alright, fine. Now, can we go?" 

Alex nodded and waited for the other man to leave before he did, carefully keeping about ten feet between them. When they reached the doors, Alex slowed to a stop as Michael continued on and stopped close to a group of two men and two women huddle together. A little ways away, a dozen of the elderly aliens were sitting with their backs against the wall, some holding onto each other and others choosing to keep away. Whe they noticed him, those were able-bodied stood between him and the weaker ones and one in particular looked at him with such hatred that if looks could kill, Alex would have been six feet under by now. He stalked forward and only realized it was the man who had watched the woman he loved get shot over and over and then had watched her die. The old man stalked forward and Alex backed away. "Please stay back," he pleaded with the man, "I don't want to hurt you." 

The man didn't listen to him, in fact, he didn't listen to any of the others who had tried to stop him. If anything, his steps grew faster, and when Alex ran out of hallway, he resigned himself. There was a grunt as his powers started to affect the man, but he wasn't deterred. He wrapped a shaking hand around Alex's neck and squeezed. His grip started growing weaker by the second, but before Alex even attempted to pull him back, there was a hand on the man's shoulder. "Thral, let go of the boy."

He recognized Nora immediately, and was relieved when he saw she was alive. She gave him a small smile as she took the man away from Alex and led back to the group. Alex slumped against the wall and saw Michael staring at him from a few feet away. Alex tried to smile at him, but it probably wasn't convincing because Michael frowned. Before he could move forward, Nora was back. He watched her lay a hand on Michael's shoulder, watched the other man's face brighten as he pulled her into his side and wondered who Nora was to him. 

Nora approached him and tried to sit beside him. Alex extended a hand to help her settle down and once she had, he allowed himself to lean into her. "Are you alright, Alex?"

He nodded. "You need to leave," he informed her. "I don't know why you're not affected by what I can do, but the others are so I can't leave with you."

"We won't leave you behind."

"You need to," he pleaded with her. "I think back up will be coming soon. And you need to not be here when it does."

"There's no back up, Alex," Michael informed him, having been listening in on their conversation. Alex's head snapped to him and he frowned in confusion. "What?"

"Project Shepherd was shut down years ago. This prison was supposed to be shut down, too, Jesse Manes kept it going with only a skeleton crew for the past decade." 

"I- what?"

"Yeah, Alex, there's no one coming."

"Jesus." Michael moved towards him and Alex snapped. "Stay back, damn it!"

Nora ran a hand through his hair, and he felt himself relax almost involuntarily. "We need to leave now, Alex."

He closed his eyes and shook his head. Why didn't they seem to understand how dangerous he was? "We're not leaving you," she told him, managing to sound both firm and kind. 

Alex opened his eyes and looked to Michael. "How many cars do you have?"

"Three SUVs and a truck," he answered immediately.

Alex forced out a breath and nodded. "Any of them human?" He asked, pointing his chin at the group of four Michael had been talking to earlier. "Two of them, yeah."

"I'm gonna need to ride with one of them, in a car with no aliens."

Michael's face clouded over. "Do you have a problem with aliens or something?" He was trying for casual but had kissed the mark by several miles.

Alex rolled his eyes. "No, I personally don't, which is why I don't want to be the reason any of them gets hurt."

"What? How would you hurt them?" 

"Being near me makes aliens powerless. But, it's not just that. The best way I can describe it is that I drain the aliens'life source if I'm close enough. I don't know what prolonged exposure to it does, and I'm not all that eager to find out."

Michael frowned at him and then looked pointedly at Nora. "My mom seems fine."

"Mom?-" Alex looked between the two and wondered how that was possible considering she'd been in this prison for the past seventy years. He ignored the questions he had and focused on Michael's. " Nora is different. I just have no idea why."

Michael seemed to accept his explanation and went to tell his group about the new development. He watched him go, unable to tear his eyes away from his retreating figure. His eyes went from the back of his head, down his broad shoulders and all the way down, hungry and finally free to just look.

When he heard her chuckle, his gaze snapped to Nora. "What?"

Her eyes twinkled. "Oh, nothing."

Alex huffed. "Then why are you looking at me like that?"

"I can't look at you?" 

"You can," he told her, "just not like that."

She laughed and he found himself smiling.

Kyle Valenti drove him home, and Alex tried to remember why the name sounded so familiar. The way the man kept shooting him looks that he probably thought were subtle but really weren't told Alex that he was onto something when he suspected that he knew him.

He needed to know if he was right, so he decided to be as direct as possible. "Do I know you?"

Kyle seemed startled by the question but recovered quickly. "No."

"Then why do you keep looking at me like you know me?"

"I don't know, man, you just- you remind me of someone."

Alex's memories of before were barely nonexistent. He didn't know if that was normal or a response to trauma, but he barely remembered anyone from his life before Caulfield. "Who?"

"My best friend. You even have the same name," Kyle laughed sadly as he shook his head. 

His breath caught in his throat. "Was- was his name Alex Manes?" He whispered.

The car swerved and Kyle cursed as he quickly gained control back. Alex saw he had a tight grip on the steering wheel. His eyes were on the road, and Alex was suddenly grateful the other man couldn't look at him. "How did you- are you-"

Alex saved him the trouble. "I'm Alex Manes. My father faked my death to keep me in that prison."

Kyle let a string of curses that would make a sailor blush and Alex sat through a very long, one sided conversation about how Jesse Manes was possibly the worst person on this planet. Alex didn't disagree, but he didn't add anything, merely kept his eyes ahead and let Kyle work through his feelings. 

When the cars finally stopped, Alex was the first one out. The man who'd given Michael the access code to Alex's cell jumped out of the second car and jogged up to the house. When Alex looked around, he saw nothing but the desert and it made him relax. That was until the other cars arrived and people began to file out. Alex tensed. 

"I can't stay here," he told Kyle.

The other frowned at him, but nodded. "Michael explained. Would you be okay with staying with me?"

Alex shrugged. "I spent fifteen years living in a 2x4 cell and sleeping on wooden bench. I'm okay with sleeping anywhere, Kyle."

His joke fell flat and the other man looked stricken. Alex sighed tiredly and chose to ignore that in favor of getting back in the car. He watched Kyle make his way to Michael. The taller man frowned, but nodded. Kyle nodded back and made his way back to the car. When their eyes locked, Michael lifted a hand up and waved. Alex waved back and tried not to pay too much attention to the part of him that wanted so desperately to stay. 

Alex wondered if he'd grown attached to Michael simply because the man had saved him. Or if there was something else that drew him to the other man. 

Whatever it was, Alex knew without a shadow of a doubt it was only going to mean trouble for him.
....
....

Alex spent the better part of his first night out of the prison tossing and turning in the bed Kyle had basically bullied him into taking. His apartment was surprisingly small, with only one bedroom, a bathroom and a living room joined with a kitchen. 

When morning came and he heard Kyle moving around the apartment, Alex knew it was time to join him. He used the bathroom, then went into the kitchen where, unseen, he watched Kyle rotate his shoulders and neck, wincing with every movement. 

"I told you I should take the couch," he commented and he barely suppressed a laugh as Kyle jumped, then fumbled with his phone, which ended up face down on the floor. 

"Dude, warn a guy next time," Kyle exclaimed as he bent down to retrieve his phone. "You want breakfast?"

Alex looked at the small, round table in the corner and felt excitement bubble in his chest when he saw a plate of pancakes and another that contained scrambled eggs. 

"It's nothing fancy-" Kyle started.

Alex laughed. "I've been living off oatmeal for over a decade, Kyle, this is as fancy as it gets as far as I'm concerned."

"I'm sorry."

Alex shook his head. He really needed to pay attention to the things he said around Kyle. "Not your fault."

"My dad was involved."

"So? You weren't. That's what counts in my book."

Kyle looked down. "But-"

"No buts," Alex told him firmly. "My whole family was involved in the torture of over two dozens of aliens. They kept them there for seven decades, Kyle. And I'm no better."

Kyle stared at him, and his left eye twitched slightly. "I read your file, Alex. What you did, and at thirteen no less, was nothing short of a miracle. Hell, my father couldn't do what you did and he had about three decades on you."

He said nothing, tried his best not to show how much Kyle's words affected him, and pointed at the table. 

Kyle, thankfully, let it go. "Yeah, let's eat! I don't mean to brag, but my pancakes are the best in all of Roswell."
....
....

Alex didn't leave Kyle's apartment for a week, instead choosing to catch up on two decades worth of music and movies and generally avoiding everything else. Kyle had graciously enabled him to bury his head in the sand so far, but Alex could tell he was gearing up for a talk. 

Alex was aware of the many things that he needed to think about; what kind of job he wanted, his living arrangements, but most importantly, how to build himself a brand new identity, seeing as he could never be Alex Manes again. 

"Alex?"

When he looked up at Kyle from his position on the bathroom floor, Alex knew from the look on his he'd run out of time. 

"I think we need to talk."
....
....

Alex, slowly but surely started building a life for himself. The first thing he'd needed to do was to find a job, and Maria had immediately offered him one right away. When he'd warned her that he knew next to nothing about how to bartend, she'd not missed a beat and told him that the pay wasn't much. He'd agreed and had been assured that if any aliens came to the pony, they would warn him and then keep their distance. He found his second job purely by accident. He'd never been so happy about getting lost as he had the moment he'd taken a wrong turn and his eyes had caught onto the "Help wanted" sign. The music shop was beautiful, and what had drawn him in had been the corner which had a chair and about a dozen small stools, clearly meant for children. The owner, a middle-aged man whose smile seemed to be a permanent fixture on his face, came to stand beside him. "Do you know how to play?"

Alex nodded. "I might be a little rusty, though, I haven't touched an instrument in years."

"Well, you can learn with the little ones in exchange of helping out in the shop."

Alex walked out of the music with a job and a bounce in his step.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Michael," Alex answered, smiling automatically at the sound of the other man's voice. There was a clatter, then a muffled curse. "Is this a bad time?"

"No!" Michael answered quickly, eagerly. "I'm good. Just working on Mr. Pearson's car. Damn thing is older than he is and he's got a foot in the grave already," Michael muttered angrily. "I've been trying to get him to sell it for parts and buy a new one, but he won't budge."

Alex smiled. "I'm starting to think he's doing it on purpose just to piss you off at this point. This is what, the third time this week?" 

"I wouldn't put it past the old man," Michael said darkly. 

Alex laughed. "Hey, if you're busy, I can call you back."

"It's fine. Did you need something?"

Alex felt heat rise in his cheeks and he cleared his throat. "Not really, just wanted to check in. I haven't heard from you much this past week."

Michael sighed. "Things have been a bit hard with mom. She's still adjusting and she's- she's really sick."

Alex's heart broke for him and for Nora. They all knew this was coming. She was well past ninety years old, and with the amount of stress her body had been put under in Caulfield, it was a wonder she'd managed to hold on for so long. "I'm sorry."

There was pause on the other end. "Alex, you know it's not your fault, don't you?"

He didn't answer.

"Alex? None of this is on you, do you hear me? It sucks, but, at least she gets to die free now, right?"

He was trying to be brave, but Alex knew him well enough by now to know that he was just trying to put on a brave face. Alex had never been good with words, but for Michael, he wanted to try.

"Don't think about that right now, okay? Focus on the good, spend the time you have left with her, not worrying about her, okay?"

"Yeah," Michael chocked out. "Hey, I-uh, I gotta go."

"Okay."

"Alex?"

"Yeah?"

"Thank you."

"What happened to you?!" 

Alex waved off Michael's concern. "It's nothing."

"That big ass bruise says otherwise. Come closer," Michael requested.

Alex rolled his eyes and sighed, angling the camera closer to the bruise. Michael Whistled, and Alex gave him an unimpressed look. "It's really not that bad."

"It really is. What happened?"

Alex hesitated. Michael frowned. "Bar fight?" He guessed.

"I wish," he muttered. "A three year old poked me in the eye with a violin bow."

Michael was trying to keep a straight face, but Alex could tell he was failing. "Just laugh, okay? Get it over with."

Michael snickered, nose scrunching up adorably, and there was an ache in Alex's chest as all he wanted in the moment was to be close to Michael, to get to see him laugh in person. 

He shook off the melancholy thoughts and cleared his throat. "Are you done?" He asked dryly.

"Yes. Yes, I'm done. Sorry, I'm sorry!"

Alex rolled his eyes again. "Listen, you know I'm getting my GED, right?"

Michael nodded. "Aha."

"Well, math is kicking my ass right now, and since you're a genius, can you please help me out?"

He nodded before Alex even finished asking. "Gonna cost you, though," Michael informed him.

Alex met his piercing stare with one of his own. "Name your price."

Michael smiled mischievously. "A date."

Alex was stunned. He opened and closed his mouth like a fish out of water, and he saw the minute Michael mistook his hesitation for rejection.

"Sorry, I thought you were-"

"I am!" Alex exclaimed. "I am, I just- you know I can't be near you, Michael." Michael looked away from the camera and Alex visibly softened.  "This isn't a no, Michael."

His head snapped up and he stared into the camera. Alex smiled softly. "It's not a no."

"Then what is it?"

"It's a not now."

"Okay. Okay, I think I can live with that."

"Alex?" Michael's voice, rough from sleep, broke through the haze of panic and Alex swallowed thickly. He opened his mouth to speak, but was frustrated when no sound came out. 

"Hey, Alex, are you okay? Come on, answer me, or I'm coming over."

"Don't," he told him weakly.

"What happened?"

"Michael," he chocked out, sliding down the wall of Kyle's room, breaths coming out in little puffs of air. 

"Can you tell me what happened, Alex?" 

"My- my father," Alex managed to say once his breathing was under control. "Or at least, I thought it was." He laughed bitterly. "I had a panic attack because I went down to the fucking store to buy some milk. I kept seeing him at every corner, Michael. How pathetic is that?" 

"It's not pathetic at all. But- Alex, he's dead," Michael reminded him gently. 

Alex thumped his head back against the wall, his eyes closed. "I know. I know, it's just hard to remember that he's gone when I wake up on most days and I can still feel his hands around my throat, or-" Alex broke off and shook his head.

"I'll keep reminding you, then," Michael informed him. Alex smiled, and he wondered how the other man always knew what to say to make him feel better.

"I'm sorry I called. I know things have been a little weird after-"

"Alex," Michael interrupted him. "You can call me anytime, okay? No matter what." 

Tears gathered in his eyes, but he didn't let them fall. "It goes both ways, you know that right?"

"Yeah, I do," he told him softly. "You think you can go back to sleep now?" 

"Yeah. Michael? Can you-"

"I'll stay on the phone."

"Thank you."

Alex listened to him breath for a while, the sound oddly calming. His eyes closed on their accord. He didn't remember falling asleep, but when he woke up, it was ten a.m. and he realized that that was the best night of sleep he'd ever had.

When Alex opened the door to Kyle's apartment,  he didn't expect to see both Liz and Kyle there. "Hey, what are you two doing here?"

"I live here," Kyle told him, deadpan.

Alex rolled his eyes. "Yeas, I'm aware, Kyle. But I thought you had a shift."

"Switched with someone."

Alex nodded and went to put his keys and wallet in the bowl by the door before he stilled and slowly rotated back. He looked from Liz to Kyle and eyes them suspiciously. 

"What are you hiding?"

Neither said anything, and Alex galred harder. "What did you do?" 

"I gave Michael the serum I made," Liz blurted out.

"And it worked," Michael continued, slowly stepping out from the kitchen. 

He came closer, and closer, until he was within reach. Alex felt the burn of tears in his eyes but stubbornly refused to let them fall.  He sniffled and tried his best to look mad. "What you did was reckless," he informed him.

Michael nodded. "I know."

"And monumentally stupid."

He grinned. "I know."

"I'm glad it worked," he whispered. Michael closed the distance between them and rested his forehead on his. Michael's smile widened, though Alex  had thought it was impossible. "Me too."

Michael pulled away and his smile ever dimmed. "Alex Manes, will you go on a date with me?" 

"And, that's our cue to leave," Kyle muttered, dragging Liz by the hand. 

Alex looked down at his hands and then back up at Michael's face. "Are you sure you want to do this with me, Michael? It's not gonna be easy. I have about twenty years worth of baggage to work through, my family had a hand in-"

"I'm messy, too, Alex. I've got baggage, too. But, listen to me, none of that matters." He held his face in his hands. "I don't want easy, Alex, not if it's not with you, okay?" 

"Michael- are you sure?"

Michael nodded seriously. "Never been more sure of anything in my entire life. I want you."

Alex shuddered, and a tear escaped his tightly closed lids. "Okay."

Michael smiled. "Now, can I please just kiss you? We've waited long enough."

And really, how could Alex even dream of saying no to that?

He nodded, and his heart hammered in his chest. His hands shook, and his breathing grew heavy, and only when he felt a hint of excitement break through the fear did he realize how much he'd been wanting to do this with Michael. Alex held his breath as Michael drew closer, and he felt hopeful in a way he'd never been before. He clenched his hands into fists, unsure of what to do with them. He was new to all of this, embarrassingly so, and he hesitated for all of a second. 

But then Michael's hands found his and he laced their fingers together. Alex let out a breath and swayed closer. Michael's forehead dropped onto his and they stayed like that for a while, just breathing each other in. He didn't know who moved first, but seconds later, Alex felt Michael's lips brush over his, feather-light and hesitant. When he pulled away, Alex immediately chased after his lips, all earlier reservations forgotten. Michael's hands pulled him closer, chest to chest, thighs to thighs. With each move, with each breath, Alex's need to be closer to him only seemed to grow. His hands found their way into Michael's hair, and he pulled lightly, experimentally. Michael moaned into his mouth, tightened his grip on him.

Alex walked them backwards, dragging a willing Michael with him towards the couch. The backs of his legs hit the edge, and he allowed himself to fall onto it. He spread his legs invitingly and looked up at Michael through his lashes.  The other man was breathing heavily, and he looked at Alex like he was something special, something worthy of his affection. It was almost as overwhelming as the first brush of his soft lips on Alex's had been.

Impatient, Alex yanked Michael down towards him by the hands, and he stumbled, almost falling in his haste to get to him. Alex laughed quietly, but when Michael swiftly set one knee on either side of him, crowding him against the back of the couch, his laughter died down rather abruptly. Alex craned his neck up in an effort to be closer to him at the same time Michael leaned down. Their lips met in a bruising kiss and Alex settled his hands on Michael's hips, using his grip to pull him down so that he was flush against him. 

Michael pulled away, leaning back for a second to take off his shirt, and Alex made an embarrassingly needy noise low in his throat that had Michael chuckling. 

Alex leaned forward and pressed his face into his neck, inhaling the scent of him;  rain mixed in with sweat and gasoline. He pressed a kiss to the side of his neck, then another one to the hollow of his throat and was proud when the action had him shuddering and leaning closer. In one fluid move that he hadn't known he was capable of, Alex flipped them over, making sure Michael was comfortable before he pushed him down to lie down on his back. Alex took his time, and he made it his mission to kiss every inch of exposed skin. Alex's hands travelled down, tracing patterns into Michael's chest, then onto his stomach. Ever so slowly, his fingers reached for his belt buckle, but Michael stilled them.

Alex let out a disapproving whine, but Michael only raised an eyebrow. "I showed you mine, now you show me yours." He yanked at Alex's shirt impatiently. "Off," he told him breathlessly. Alex obeyed and Michael's hungry eyes took him in. 

Alex let him take his fill, let his hands roam, let him touch, and kiss,  every scar, every burn, and as stupid as it sounded, he could feel them healing just a bit more with every tender touch.

Here, in the saftey of Michael's arms, Alex had finally found his home.

And he never wanted to leave.