neverlooksaway | Continuation from TFLN

Alex put himself away and zipped up again, but his eyes kept going back to Michael. He had an almost smug look on his face, probably similar to the look that Alex'd had back in the front of the truck. He pushed himself up and kissed Michael, taking care not to unbalance him. The last thing he wanted to do was make his hand worse by accidentally pushing him over and making Michael use his bad hand to break his fall.

He just needed to taste, first himself and, underneath that, Michael himself.

"So, something you might want to practice?"

Michael kissed him back, trying to figure out how to settle comfortably, able to be close to Alex and touch him and not bang his hand on anything or put any pressure on it or whatever else would make this less fun.

He gave Alex a grin when he eased back. "Any time you want..."

After all, practice made perfect, and Michael was something of a perfectionist.

Alex noticed Michael's flailing and shifted so he could be the one with his back against the bed of the truck and Alex could slide in next to him. He slid his hand under Michael's shirt and contented himself with just touching. He'd slaked the worst of his hunger and now he was content to just bask in actually spending a little time with Michael.

"Good to know." He returned the grin.

"So how did you find this place anyway?"

Settled more comfortably, Michael curled into Alex a bit more, fingers of his right hand playing with Alex's hair. He cursed the injured hand that kept him from touching more at once. But they were close and touching, and that made him happier than it should.

He shrugged a little at the question, mostly because it was the one thing he wanted to tell Alex most, but couldn't, but...he could tell him some of it, right?

"How do you work in the alien museum and not know this?" he asked with a teasing chuckle. "This is where the crash happened."

Which, to be honest, was kind of depressing, objectively, but it had always felt...right, safe, to Michael.

Alex tapped one painted nail against Michael's chest. "I asked how you found it. Besides, it's not as if the museum hands out a map to this place, otherwise there'd be tourists crawling through the desert looking for the kind of souvenirs they can't find in the gift shop."

He blinked his eyes a little more slowly than usual. It wasn't that he was tired, but the slid of Michael's fingers through his hair was restful. All he'd need to do was close his eyes and he'd be able to have a catnap. Except they were talking.

"Unless I'm missing the plaque that says 'aliens landed here', this just looks like another part of the desert."

Michael gave a sheepish smile, and a shrug, still playing with Alex's hair. "Well, Foster Ranch's still here--there's the sign for it. I got to know the owner a little bit, helped him out with some stuff, and he pointed me in the right direction."

All true, though some part of him had just known the first time he came out here. But he'd confirmed it, when he was old enough to ask, not just be some punk kid running away to the desert.

"I like coming out here and looking at the stars."

"It is quiet out here. Peaceful." That's what the tool shed had been for Alex. An oasis away from the storm of his father. He'd always felt safe there. And now that safety was shattered. It wasn't Michael's fault. Alex should have known that his father would know when Alex found the least bit of happiness and would find a way to ruin it.

He was half tempted to look over his shoulder, just in case.

"Got any favorites?"

Michale nodded, flashing Alex a smile for understanding that. He didn't want to think about the quiet he'd lost from his broken hand--it would heal, and he'd be able to play again, right? So, the stars weren't quite the same as music, but being out here, away from most people, able to just...look and see what was above him, know that somewhere out there were people like him, where he wouldn't be a defective freak of nature? Where he wouldn't have to hide and lie?

That gave him some peace, at least, even if he never found them. Right now, with Alex next to him, he didn't know if he wanted to find them. But, maybe, if he did...then Alex could meet them, too. Imagining that, traveling up there among the stars, with Alex? That was possibly one of his favorite non-sexual fantasies right now (though, to be honest, sex among the stars sounded pretty awesome, too).

"In the summer, Aquila and Cygnus, the eagle and the swan," he said promptly. "In the winter, Perseus and Andromeda." Which was a little bit sappy, but who didn't love a good happily-ever-after story?

Alex leaned in a little closer and wished that it were night so that Michael could point out the stars. Instead, he traced out the constellations that he knew against Michael's chest. Gemini he knew as well as the Big and Little Dippers and a few others. He had no idea about the ones Michael had named, though, even if the names were familiar.

"Pretend I didn't ace History class." Which he hadn't. "Or English class." Which he had. "And tell me why you picked those?"

Because he didn't know what they stories were and if it was the patterns that appealed to him or the stories. The only story he could think of off-hand involving swans was The Ugly Duckling and he was pretty sure they hadn't turned that into a constellation.

As far as Michael was concerned, they could stay here 'til it was, and he'd happily point them out. If he had his way, they'd never have to leave here--the place he felt more like himself than anywhere, with the person he wanted to be with more than anything else.

He shivered at the brush of Alex's fingers over his chest, and chuckled a little.

"All four of them were among the constellations that Ptolemy categorized, though Aquila's in roughly the same area as a Babylonian one also called the 'eagle.' Aquila's brightest star is only 17 light-years from Earth, and is called Altair, which comes from the Arabic for 'the flying eagle.' So--it ends up being really self-referential. It's the bird that they said carried Zeus's thunderbolts across the sky for him." And that always made him think of Max. "Ptolemy also catalogued Cygnus, and it has the Northern Cross inside it. But there are a lot of swans in Greek mythology, and possible origins for the name. But my favorite is the story of Phaeton. He was Helios's son and wanted to drive his father's sun chariot for a day across the sky. But he couldn't control it, and Zeus had to destroy it, and him. They plunged down into the river, and Phaeton's brother, Cygnus, was brokenhearted. So, he spent day after day, diving into the river to bring out his brothers' bones, so he could bury him properly. The gods were blown away by how devoted he was, and so, they rewarded him by turning him into a swan and putting him up in the stars forever."

That...also kinda made him think of Max. Or himself. 'Cause that's what either of them would do for each other, or for Isobel.

"Andromeda and Perseus are named after their myth. Andromeda's mom bragged that her daughter was more beautiful than the Nereids, and Poseidon got pissed and sent a sea monster to ravage the coast and the oracle said the only way to stop it was to chain Andromeda to a rock and give her to the monster. But Perseus was coming home from killing Medusa, and he saw her there, and he saved her by using Medusa's head to turn the monster to stone. He rescued her from the rock and married her, which pissed off her uncle, who, I guess was gonna marry her before they chained her to a rock. So he got all feisty at the wedding, and Perseus turned him to stone with Medusa's head, too, 'cause no way was he letting Andromeda stay with a family whose two ideas for what to do with their kid was feed her to a sea monster or make her marry her uncle. And, they sailed off, pretty literally, into the sunset. They rescued Perseus' mom, and had a bunch of kids, and lived happily ever after. Then, when they died, Euripides placed them in the stars, so they could be together for all eternity."

He gave Alex a sheepish smile, and a little shrug, realizing he hadn't answered the why of it, but also, not sure how to explain. "I dunno why those. I mean...I guess I like the Perseus and Andromeda story, 'cause...I used to come out here, and stare up at the stars, y'know, and I'd think that...maybe something, or someone, up there would save me. And when I saw their constallations, I'd remember the story, and it gave me hope. I mean, Greek myths are usually tragic, but it's a happy one. I mostly just like Aquila 'cause it's this cool shape and I like how many different civilizations looked up and saw the same thing. And Cygnus makes me think of me and Max..."

He bit his lip at that, uncertain if that was something that made sense.

There were more than a few times during Michael's story where Alex would smile or start chuckling. Not because of the content of the story, although that was both interesting and revealing, but because of the zeal with which he was telling it. He was like one of those kids who read children's books about mythology and then went around gleefully reciting the tales.

"Well, you and Max have been friends since you got to town, right? I guess it's only natural that you might see him as some kind of brother."

Of course, he'd been friends with Liz since...okay, maybe that wasn't exactly a fair comparison. He did kind of see her as a sister. At least when she wasn't being an idiot and dating Kyle Valenti.

"And as for Andromeda and Perseus..."

His smile grew and he looked away. "Well, let's just say in addition to being a closet geek, it sounds like you're a closet romantic."

He closed his eyes. That was the most he'd heard Michael speak at any one time and he was revelling in it.

Michael flushed a tiny bit, a touch embarrassed at the romantic part, but pleased that Alex had listened, hadn't laughed at him. The stories of the constellations were probably more Max's thing--it was fanciful, not hard science--but curled up here against Alex, Michael wasn't thinking a lot about science and facts.

"Yeah, well. Don't go telling people the closet-romantic part. That's just for you..." And then he flushed a bit more, because, well, Alex was the only one who'd ever touched that side of him, the part that went beyond the physical, that craved the connection and intimacy.

Thinking in that vein, he bit his lip, pausing as he debated whether it was safe to share a piece, but. Since none of it screamed "alien," he didn't think it mattered. "Max and I...I mean, we are brothers," he said quietly. Even if they didn't know how to prove it, biologically, it was so much more than friends. "Isobel's my sister." He shot Alex a sideways glance, then looked down, studying his hand for something else to look at. "I was here, before. In Roswell, I mean. We were all found together, not just the two of them. But they got adopted, and I got sent away to Albuquerque."

Alex was starting to lean forward and kiss through their mutual blushes, Michael's That's just for you... still ringing through his head. And then Michael mentioned Max and Alex stilled, frowning a little and then even more as Michael went on.

He didn't ask the obvious rhetorical question about how Max and Isobel's parents hadn't adopted him, although he was curious about whether they knew about him. Instead, he leaned in a little closer to Michael and wrapped an arm around his waist in as much of a hug as they could get in this position. Because whatever way you looked at it, this just sucked. For Isobel and Max, not knowing where their brother was, but especially for Michael.

"I've heard of brothers and sisters being split up in foster care, but..." He swallowed and shook his head, not even sure what to say to that. So he didn't say anything, following through on his lean to kiss Michael, making it a soft one instead of the teasing one he'd been planing on.

"I'm glad you found them again," he murmured.

Michael leaned in to Alex, accepting the kinda-hug, and then returning the kiss just as softly. He couldn't tell Alex the whole truth, but, with how things were now...what happened that night, with Rosa. He'd barely seen Max since then, and Isobel kept looking at him like she was scared what he'd do next--not of him, but whether his powers were all out of control again, and everything was...wrong.

Except this. He kissed Alex again, a little harder, before murmuring against his lips, "Me too."

He rested his forehead against Alex's, breathing him in, and reminded himself how lucky he was to have Alex, how this was worth fighting for, even if he was sure he didn't deserve it anymore.

Alex was silent for a long while, just tucked up against Michael, foreheads pressed together and noses nuzzling each other. Michael had told him something real and probably painful given his parental history and Alex... Well, he didn't feel obligated to do the same, but he wanted to tell Michael something.

"Dad," he said quietly, tensing at the very name, "wants me to enlist. Or join ROTC when I go off to college."

He shifted and buried his face in Michael's neck. He hadn't planned on telling Michael that. Had wanted to handle it on his own. Or maybe not handled it, like he hadn't handled it when Michael's hand had been smashed.

"I'm worried about what he'll do if I don't."

Michael's world tilted a little bit at that, fear gripping his chest. He didn't want Alex to leave (or, well, he did, because he should get out of here, but Michael was gonna be wrecked when he went) at all, but it wasn't like this was really peacetime. It seemed like every day the news was talking about servicemen and women dying due to IEDs or insurgent firefights. Death had always sort of been this far-off thing, like it was for most teenagers, but Rosa's death had changed that, shown Michael how fast life could be gone, and the thought of Alex going off into that...and, worse, going off into it when he didn't want to....

His arm tightened around alex and he turned his face into him, in turn. "You don't have to do what he says if you don't want to," he said, a little urgently. "He can't make you join up, and now that we've graduated...you can go anywhere. You don't have to stay with him."

Michael knew the fear all too well, and it had been terrifying stepping out on his own, but less terrifying than staying in the home he'd been in. Yeah, sure, he lived in his truck, but that had mostly been because he figured he'd be going to college. Without that, now...he'd find a place. He had his job at the junkyard, and Sanders was keeping him on, even with his hand busted.

"He's had all the control, 'til now, but you don't have to let him keep it."

"You saw what I was like when he came after me," Alex said, shaking his head. "I can't..." Fear and panic twisted his stomach and closed his throat, making it impossible to continue that statement. The thought of what his father could do could give him panic attacks, especially after what had happened to Michael.

He wouldn't necessarily call himself an abused kid, but his father using the hammer on Michael's hand had made him see that his father had crossed some invisible line that probably had actually been crossed years ago.

It wasn't as if this was the first time Alex had been held to the wall, his father looming over him. It was just different when it was Michael.

"He could decide that he won't pay for college if I don't go," he finally said instead of trying to explain the knot of fear that had settled in his stomach. "He could decide that you were to blame and do something to you."

Michael could see the fear, and tightened his arm around Alex, feeling bad that he'd said anything that had upset him. He wanted Alex safe, happy, away from his dad. But not by heading into war. He also didn't want to push Alex to something he wasn't ready for.

"I didn't think he'd go that far. Now I know that he will, he won't catch me off-guard again. I can take care of myself." Using his powers would mean having to cover it up afterward, but he wasn't going to let Jesse Manes hurt him or Alex again. "But...ending up going off to war is potentially a lot harder than figuring out another way to pay for college."

Michael wished he could give Alex the scholarship he had to let go. It would still mean him leaving, but he'd be leaving for somewhere safe enough, and Michael could drive up to see him sometimes, at least. But it didn't work that way. "I don't want you to leave..."

It took a lot to admit that, but if Alex was being vulnerable, he could be, too, right?

“We could leave,” Alex suggested, hope in his voice even though he knew it wasn’t a valid option. That would only piss his dad off even more. He knew, given everything, that Michael thought he knew what his dad was capable of, but he was a lot more insidious than hitting people with hammers. He always managed to find the right leverage to get his way.

“Just hit the road and go anywhere, even if it’s just for the summer.”

He liked the idea of spending months with Michael, getting to know him, really know him outside of this electric chemistry they seemed to have. He only really knew what he’d heard about him at school and that he was friends - no, family - with Max and Isobel.

Michael's eyes lit up at the idea, even though he immediately thought of Isobel. He'd turned down the scholarship, and Max had given up his road trip, so they could watch her. Michael couldn't just turn around and run away, now. Right? But already Max was pulling away, hadn't even bothered to ask about Michael's hand. And Isobel kept looking at him with worry, which was fair, given she thought he'd killed three people, but he hadn't, and, in that moment, he hadn't really thought through the consequences of saying it was him.

But that was different. That was before Alex said his dad wanted to send him off to war. If running away with Michael would keep him from doing that, surely that would be worth it, right?

And if it was just for the summer...Max could handle Isobel, couldn't he? If Michael said he'd be back, she wouldn't freak out about him leaving her. And after everything life had thrown at him versus them, surely he deserved the chance to be a little selfish, for once, didn't he?

He wasn't sure he bought his own rationalization, but he found himself smiling anyway, and the only thing that seemed at all reasonable to say was, "Okay."

Alex watched the expressions flick through Michael's face. Joy and then doubt. That he'd been expecting and maybe it was for the best. He wasn't sure how he was going to tell Michael that this was a bad idea, especially when it'd been Alex to bring up the subject in the first place.

But then Alex's expression cleared and he smiled again. And agreed. Alex's breath caught in his throat. He hadn't expected Michael to agree. He figured Michael would want to spend the last summer before they all went off to college with Max and Isobel.

"Guerin, I was just..." But he couldn't bring himself to admit that he'd been just kidding because he didn't want it to be some joke. He honestly did want to leave with Michael and never look back.

"I don't want him to hurt you again," he said instead. "And he will when he finds out you're the reason I left."

Michael's smile faltered at the "I was just...", because he knew what came after that. But, then, it didn't, and he felt hope flare a little again. But Alex raised a valid issue--Michael knew what that anger looked like, and it didn't just ease or go away with hoping.

But, maybe...

He bit his lip, looking down, thinking. He didn't want to mess this up, or upset Alex, and it was his dad. He supposed that could be hard, though he didn't know much about what it was like to have an actual father who was like that. Foster fathers, sure, but...he didn't feel any bond to those men who'd hurt him. It was probably different when it was your real dad. But, still.

He'd told Max they should do it about Isobel and Rosa, but let Max shoot it down. But, this, this was his decision. He chewed on his lip another long moment. "What if...what if I--we--went to the Sheriff? Told him what your dad did? From what I've heard, he's a decent man. I mean, maybe nothing ends up coming of it, but, then, your dad would know that I was willing to report him, and that there was a formal report, so if something happened to either of us, he'd be at the top of the suspect list..."

Alex's stomach clenched at the thought of telling someone about what his father did. Most of the time, there was no proof. Yeah, he'd actually been the one to suggest bringing up charges against his father on the way here, but a part of him knew that Michael wouldn't go for it, not when he hadn't gone to Sheriff Valenti already. So it'd been easy to check and make sure that Michael's earlier decision remained true.

But now Michael was the one bringing it up. Michael was the one willing to step forward and make sure that the Sheriff knew what was going on. And they even had proof. Or at least proof that Michael had been injured. Who knew if that could be used as proof that his father had been the one to cause the injury.

He pressed his hands against Michael's skin so he wouldn't know how badly they were shaking.

"He'll want to know why we took so long to come forward," he pointed out. Better the logical reasons this was a problem instead of the real ones. "And why you didn't go to the hospital." Which was a good question. He had no idea why Michael hadn't had anyone look at his hand except maybe for lack of medical insurance.

Not going to the sheriff had been his preferred way of dealing with this when it was just about him. But it wasn't just about him anymore. If Alex was worried about his dad hurting Michael again, and that was making him think that he had to do something he didn't want to do to protect Michael. The very thought of that made him feel sick.

He slid his good hand up to curl around where Alex's pressed against his.

"We were scared." Michael countered logic with logic. "And I don't have insurance."

"But I'll tell him I'm more scared of what happens if I don't. I mean, I don't have anyone to protect me. He arrested my last foster parents when what they did to some of the younger kids came out, so. He knows something about my situation."

Of course, the sheriff might insist on him going to the doctor or something, but he'll cross that bridge when he comes to it.

"Yeah, but..." He grimaced and shook his head. He wished it could be that easy. And Kyle's dad was a good guy. He always made it easier to bear when he could. But that was the whole point.

"I think he knows. Some of it. Not everything. Not the worst of it. And not this. But he and Dad are friends. Were friends. They were together often enough that before high school and hormones, Kyle was almost more a brother to me than my actual brothers."

His brothers always seemed to follow the party line. Anything for dad and country in that order. And Alex didn't fit the mold. Just like Kyle didn't want to be a sheriff like his dad.

But then they grew up and like so many high school movies showed, Kyle became one of the mean girls and he'd dropped Alex like a hot potato.

"Hard to believe, I know, but I don't know. Maybe it's more that my dad has something on the Sheriff. That I'd believe."

Continuation from TFLN - (for thenewnormal)

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