"Yeah, maybe we are," Michael agreed after a moment. He had made his share of mistakes, though a little less than he meant to with Alex. He could have told him sooner, but...when, he didn't know. And sleeping with Maria was a mistake, obviously--Alex had been upset, and the hurt in his eyes had hurt Michael.
He sighed, looking over at Alex. "You're not that kid, though. And you proved that with your dad today."
He focused back out on the road. "Valenti's cabin, right?" He'd heard Kyle mention it in passing to Liz when they'd been working in the lab these last weeks.
“Maybe,” he said, shaking his head. “Maybe not.” He was still so terrified of some things, not the least of which was Michael himself. Or, more specifically, his feelings for Michael. He was tryiing to get over it, trying to get their relationship to mean more than desperate, amazing sex that left them both ravaged in its wake, but sometimes it was just too easy to give in to what they wanted and forget about everything else.
Alex opened his eyes in surprise when Michael guessed correctly.
“Yeah, how’d you know that?” Michael he trusted, but he’d rather it not get back to his dad if he could help it. Even if he was only fooling himself that his dad didn’t know.
Michael generally refused to admit fear, except where Alex was concerned. Because, yeah, what he felt for the other man turned him right around and upside down, and left him with no clue what he was doing--all of which was unnerving. They'd hurt each other so much, he wasn't quite sure how they rebuilt, but he also knew that even hurting, he'd rather have Alex in his life than out of it.
He glanced over at him, arching an eyebrow, then shrugged. "Been working with Liz at the hospital the past six, seven weeks. Kyle stops in fairly frequently." Michael suspected he felt bad for stabbing Isobel with the syringe, even though she'd forced it. "It came up in conversation at some point between them."
And Michael tended to listen pathetically closely anytime anyone mentioned Alex's name.
"He tried to break in," Alex said, shaking his head and closing his eyes again. Clearly Kyle's father hadn't told anyone that he'd given the place to Alex, not even his own family. Which was just fine by him. And as long as Kyle was only talking about it with Liz and Michael, that was fine. He trusted the two of them.
He was quiet for a minute and then he whispered, "Thanks. For picking me up." He'd run away again. He knew it and he couldn't stop himself. All he'd seen was Michael's way out. Never mind that Alex had the piece that made sure he couldn't. Never mind that there was every possibility that, when confronted with the choice, he'd choose to stay with Max and Isobel.
Almost directly on the heels of making the decision that he wouldn't walk away, that was exactly what he did.
“To the cabin?” Michael wasn’t sure he’d parsed that right. It didn’t make a lot of sense from his perspective, but he was also distracted by Alex’s state of intoxication.
The fact that Alex had gotten that drunk because of him wasn’t lost on him, either. Michael hadn’t meant to send him running again, but he guessed he’d given him just another reason. Trying to put the console together when he didn’t have any reason to stay had focused him, given him a chance to focus on something that felt productive, that let him learn, that distracted him from what he’d lost.
But he’d never meant it to hurt Alex. For a while he’d been pretty sure he couldn’t do that. Knowing he could threw him a little.
“Of course,” he said to the thanks. “Though I didn’t expect to be the person you asked...”
Alex made a soft sound of agreement. “It was his dad’s,” he said almost in defense of Kyle’s actions. He hadn’t really been upset at the time. More bemused at what Kyle was trying to do. Then, of course, he’d been completely the opposite of bemused. It wasn’t like he’d raised Kyle’s father on some kind of pedestal, but his feelings for the man were almost parental. If he had any real idea of what that felt like. Finding out that he’d had a daughter no one ever knew about? A little weird. Weirder still, finding that piece of the ship Michael was trying to put together in the basement.
And just as Alex’s thoughts were turning back to Michael and the whole ‘leaving’ situation, Michael made a comment about how he hadn’t expected to be the one that Alex called.
“Who else would I call?” Sure, he had friends. And friends who would probably have driven him home if he asked. But friends weren’t who he wanted to see. Needed to see. Even when it hurt to see him. His go to option was and always would be Michael.
"I guess." Michael wasn't really interested in Kyle's motives. The past few weeks hadn't changed his opinion of the other guy much, and Alex sounding almost defensive about him just made Michael like him less. He hadn't known the sherrif, not really - he'd been part of the system that had left Michael in worse and worse places and never really someone Michael would've thought capable of helping.
"I don't know? Liz. Maria." He felt a bit of a waver of something uncomfortable there, but, again--how was he supposed to know Alex would care, especially after how he'd been with Michael in the bar just earlier that day, so dismissive it had hurt, like Michael hadn't even mattered. Thinking maybe he did was still something he didn't have his head wrapped around. "One of your many other friends?"
Which Alex had, even after all this time away. Michael...didn't, as Maria had so clearly pointed out, so. He wasn't used to being the person anyone called, honestly. Not even Max, the past few years.
“Are you jealous of guys I knew back in high school?” Alex asked, his head lolling in Michael’s direction. “I wasn’t thinking of any of them.” No, his mind had been on Michael all day. Ever since he’d showed up to talk and saw Michael with Maria’s necklace. It’d been obvious what had happened. And it hurt even if she said it didn’t mean anything. It hurt because he didn’t have any right to call either of them on it.
But he still loved Michael. Even with everything. Or maybe because of everything. Or maybe just still. He’d never stopped, not really.
“You slept with Maria.” There. At least he’d said it. He didn’t sound hurt. If anything, he was more tired. Tired of the both of them hurting each other. Tired of life coming between them. He’d come to try to talk and then Maria. And then finding out that Michael was planning on leaving. He wasn’t sure how many damns he had left. But still he’d called Michael.
"No." He wasn't, really. More recognizing his own isolation. Funny - it's never really bothered him until recently. It should feel a little better, now, given Alex knows his secret, the thing that's at least part of what's kept him pulling away from people. But then Alex walked away again, afer saying he wasn't going to do it anymore.
But, then Alex mentioned Maria, and Michael winced, but he couldn't interpret the tone, especially given Alex had called him.
"Yeah. I did." He wasn't sure if he should apologize, but...Alex had seemed to make it very clear that they were over, wouldn't even stay in the bar with him, and then the fake healer, and the memories of his hand, and too much tequila. But he wasn't sure if he should try to explain, or apologize, or defend himself.
In the end, he settled on just saying, "And I came when you called."
“I don’t want you to go.” The words tumbled out of his mouth with no apparent segue except for the fact that it’d been on his mind the entire time. He didn’t want Michael to vanish into some far off region of space. The next state was too far. And the thought had been rolling around in his head, unsaid, since the moment he realized that the ship Michael was trying to fix meant that he was planning on leaving.
And maybe it was unfair of him because Michael was like any orphan who wanted to know about his origins and the thing that just added spice to the concept was that what had happened to them was pretty much urban legend and sure, Alex could understand why he might want to go out and find those answers.
But.
He didn’t want Michael to go. And he’d tried so hard not to say the words, but the filter between his heart and his head seemed to have been removed.
Michael blinked at that, turning his head to stare at Alex, a startled frown on his face. At first, he didn't connect the dots, and was about to ask "Go where?" before it clicked. Then, he didn't know what to say. He didn't want to leave the people here, not Max or Isobel, not Alex, not Maria. But he'd also never felt like he belonged. Maybe he hadn't tried hard enough, but watching Isobel do her dance of fitting in, it seemed so exhausting.
But he wasn't like Max and Isobel, didn't have anything to ground him, and, except for those few people, didn't have anyone to hold him, either. Then again, he'd given up college, given up getting out of Roswell to protect Isobel and have her think he was a murderer for ten years.
What made him think he could fly away, even if he could get the ship to work?
"Why not?" he found himself asking. "We hadn't spoken in weeks, after you left me, again. And then...you left, again. So...why does it matter what I do? If I go, if I stay?"
Maybe it wasn't fair, asking that question when he knew Alex was drunk, but maybe Alex drunk was the only way to get him to actually say whatever was going on in that inscrutable head of his.
Alex's laugh didn't sound happy or sad; it mostly sounded incredulous. "I'd just found out that aliens existed. Which I could have dealt with. But Michael, my father was hunting you. He'd labeled you a terrorist." Not even drunk would he admit that he'd doubted. It had lasted only a moment and Kyle had talked him out of it immediately.
He frowned. Wait, was he talking about that time he'd left the bar? Or before that? Or after that.
He sighed. He'd left so many times. Too many times.
"Today...today, I saw you were leaving. Or wanted to leave. I thought that staying after you the military kicked you off of the supposed...or real, I guess...crash site, I thought it meant something. You can't finish it. I won't let you."
He'd been talking about the drive-in, followed by the blow-off in the bar that killed the bit of hope he'd had left, only for Alex to come back right when he'd made some gesture at moving on, get his hopes up again, and then walk out again.
And then text him because he was drunk.
"So, you broke up with me for my own good? Blew me off to...what? If your dad had already labeled me a terrorist, what good did leaving me standing in the middle of the bar, looking like an idiot do?"
He doesn't mean to be angry, and it's stupid to argue with someone as drunk as Alex is now, but the I won't let you rankles, especially so soon after sometimes it ends on a whimper.
"Jesus, Alex. You've been so eager to get away from me, I'd have thought you'd be happy if I just removed myself from the equation. Your daddy can't hunt me if I'm not on the planet; you can go back to your life, and your friends, without any messy complications from me. You'll be free of me. Isn't that what you want?"
But then, why text him tonight? Michael doesn't understand the hot and cold and hot again. It's not how he works, and it scares him, how easily he can find himself hoping again, how much he wants Alex to say that he hadn't just loved him in the past, he still did, and that they can make this work, somehow. But Alex never says that, and Michael didn't expect him to now.
"To keep you safe!" Alex shouted. "You saw what he did when we were kids. What was he going to do now that he knows what you are? Find a shallow grave to bury you in?" Which was a truth and one of the reasons he'd backed away from Michael after he'd found out. But it was only one of the reasons.
His voice went quiet and it was almost hard to hear. "I love you so much it hurts and I shouldn't be allowed that. I ruin everything I touch. I am ruined."
He could list all the ways to describe himself and most of his friends wouldn't agree and they were wrong. Coward, selfish, lonely. And because he was the first two, he deserved the third. Giving in to his father's voice in his ear about Michael and his less than legal dealings had been about knowing that Michael deserved better than that. Not that Alex deserved better, but that Michael did.
To be blunt, Alex didn't feel like he deserved Michael and so he was selfish when he got to have him.
"But I can't let you go, either. Not completely. I need you."
Michael wanted to snap back that he wasn't afraid of Alex's father, but, truthfully, he'd been terrified at finding out that a man who hated him that much knew what he was and hated that even more. But it was bullshit that Alex had to break it off again because of that. The damage was done. Alex being close to Michael wasn't going to make it any worse, as far as Michael could see.
But before he could say more about that, though, Alex went and took the righteous indignation out of his sails with his almost-too-quiet-to-hear confession.
Because he knows what it is to love so much it hurts. And he knows something about feeling like you wreck everything, even if, really it's more a perception than anything he's done himself.
"I'm not going anywhere, Alex. It might take the rest of my life to even find the pieces, and even if I could..." He shrugged. "But can you blame me for wanting to know what I am? Where I come from?"
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momijizukamori
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Date: 2019-05-11 03:37 am (UTC)He sighed, looking over at Alex. "You're not that kid, though. And you proved that with your dad today."
He focused back out on the road. "Valenti's cabin, right?" He'd heard Kyle mention it in passing to Liz when they'd been working in the lab these last weeks.
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Date: 2019-05-14 12:01 am (UTC)Alex opened his eyes in surprise when Michael guessed correctly.
“Yeah, how’d you know that?” Michael he trusted, but he’d rather it not get back to his dad if he could help it. Even if he was only fooling himself that his dad didn’t know.
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Date: 2019-05-14 09:41 am (UTC)He glanced over at him, arching an eyebrow, then shrugged. "Been working with Liz at the hospital the past six, seven weeks. Kyle stops in fairly frequently." Michael suspected he felt bad for stabbing Isobel with the syringe, even though she'd forced it. "It came up in conversation at some point between them."
And Michael tended to listen pathetically closely anytime anyone mentioned Alex's name.
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Date: 2019-05-19 05:47 pm (UTC)He was quiet for a minute and then he whispered, "Thanks. For picking me up." He'd run away again. He knew it and he couldn't stop himself. All he'd seen was Michael's way out. Never mind that Alex had the piece that made sure he couldn't. Never mind that there was every possibility that, when confronted with the choice, he'd choose to stay with Max and Isobel.
Almost directly on the heels of making the decision that he wouldn't walk away, that was exactly what he did.
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Date: 2019-05-31 05:02 pm (UTC)The fact that Alex had gotten that drunk because of him wasn’t lost on him, either. Michael hadn’t meant to send him running again, but he guessed he’d given him just another reason. Trying to put the console together when he didn’t have any reason to stay had focused him, given him a chance to focus on something that felt productive, that let him learn, that distracted him from what he’d lost.
But he’d never meant it to hurt Alex. For a while he’d been pretty sure he couldn’t do that. Knowing he could threw him a little.
“Of course,” he said to the thanks. “Though I didn’t expect to be the person you asked...”
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Date: 2019-06-14 12:04 am (UTC)And just as Alex’s thoughts were turning back to Michael and the whole ‘leaving’ situation, Michael made a comment about how he hadn’t expected to be the one that Alex called.
“Who else would I call?” Sure, he had friends. And friends who would probably have driven him home if he asked. But friends weren’t who he wanted to see. Needed to see. Even when it hurt to see him. His go to option was and always would be Michael.
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Date: 2019-06-14 12:34 am (UTC)"I don't know? Liz. Maria." He felt a bit of a waver of something uncomfortable there, but, again--how was he supposed to know Alex would care, especially after how he'd been with Michael in the bar just earlier that day, so dismissive it had hurt, like Michael hadn't even mattered. Thinking maybe he did was still something he didn't have his head wrapped around. "One of your many other friends?"
Which Alex had, even after all this time away. Michael...didn't, as Maria had so clearly pointed out, so. He wasn't used to being the person anyone called, honestly. Not even Max, the past few years.
no subject
Date: 2019-07-01 12:59 am (UTC)But he still loved Michael. Even with everything. Or maybe because of everything. Or maybe just still. He’d never stopped, not really.
“You slept with Maria.” There. At least he’d said it. He didn’t sound hurt. If anything, he was more tired. Tired of the both of them hurting each other. Tired of life coming between them. He’d come to try to talk and then Maria. And then finding out that Michael was planning on leaving. He wasn’t sure how many damns he had left. But still he’d called Michael.
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Date: 2019-07-01 05:24 am (UTC)But, then Alex mentioned Maria, and Michael winced, but he couldn't interpret the tone, especially given Alex had called him.
"Yeah. I did." He wasn't sure if he should apologize, but...Alex had seemed to make it very clear that they were over, wouldn't even stay in the bar with him, and then the fake healer, and the memories of his hand, and too much tequila. But he wasn't sure if he should try to explain, or apologize, or defend himself.
In the end, he settled on just saying, "And I came when you called."
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Date: 2019-07-18 01:20 am (UTC)And maybe it was unfair of him because Michael was like any orphan who wanted to know about his origins and the thing that just added spice to the concept was that what had happened to them was pretty much urban legend and sure, Alex could understand why he might want to go out and find those answers.
But.
He didn’t want Michael to go. And he’d tried so hard not to say the words, but the filter between his heart and his head seemed to have been removed.
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Date: 2019-07-20 05:17 am (UTC)But he wasn't like Max and Isobel, didn't have anything to ground him, and, except for those few people, didn't have anyone to hold him, either. Then again, he'd given up college, given up getting out of Roswell to protect Isobel and have her think he was a murderer for ten years.
What made him think he could fly away, even if he could get the ship to work?
"Why not?" he found himself asking. "We hadn't spoken in weeks, after you left me, again. And then...you left, again. So...why does it matter what I do? If I go, if I stay?"
Maybe it wasn't fair, asking that question when he knew Alex was drunk, but maybe Alex drunk was the only way to get him to actually say whatever was going on in that inscrutable head of his.
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Date: 2019-07-21 02:23 am (UTC)He frowned. Wait, was he talking about that time he'd left the bar? Or before that? Or after that.
He sighed. He'd left so many times. Too many times.
"Today...today, I saw you were leaving. Or wanted to leave. I thought that staying after you the military kicked you off of the supposed...or real, I guess...crash site, I thought it meant something. You can't finish it. I won't let you."
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Date: 2019-07-25 03:56 am (UTC)And then text him because he was drunk.
"So, you broke up with me for my own good? Blew me off to...what? If your dad had already labeled me a terrorist, what good did leaving me standing in the middle of the bar, looking like an idiot do?"
He doesn't mean to be angry, and it's stupid to argue with someone as drunk as Alex is now, but the I won't let you rankles, especially so soon after sometimes it ends on a whimper.
"Jesus, Alex. You've been so eager to get away from me, I'd have thought you'd be happy if I just removed myself from the equation. Your daddy can't hunt me if I'm not on the planet; you can go back to your life, and your friends, without any messy complications from me. You'll be free of me. Isn't that what you want?"
But then, why text him tonight? Michael doesn't understand the hot and cold and hot again. It's not how he works, and it scares him, how easily he can find himself hoping again, how much he wants Alex to say that he hadn't just loved him in the past, he still did, and that they can make this work, somehow. But Alex never says that, and Michael didn't expect him to now.
no subject
Date: 2019-08-04 08:22 pm (UTC)His voice went quiet and it was almost hard to hear. "I love you so much it hurts and I shouldn't be allowed that. I ruin everything I touch. I am ruined."
He could list all the ways to describe himself and most of his friends wouldn't agree and they were wrong. Coward, selfish, lonely. And because he was the first two, he deserved the third. Giving in to his father's voice in his ear about Michael and his less than legal dealings had been about knowing that Michael deserved better than that. Not that Alex deserved better, but that Michael did.
To be blunt, Alex didn't feel like he deserved Michael and so he was selfish when he got to have him.
"But I can't let you go, either. Not completely. I need you."
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Date: 2019-09-29 03:04 am (UTC)But before he could say more about that, though, Alex went and took the righteous indignation out of his sails with his almost-too-quiet-to-hear confession.
Because he knows what it is to love so much it hurts. And he knows something about feeling like you wreck everything, even if, really it's more a perception than anything he's done himself.
"I'm not going anywhere, Alex. It might take the rest of my life to even find the pieces, and even if I could..." He shrugged. "But can you blame me for wanting to know what I am? Where I come from?"