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It’s not that Alex doesn’t like Ray – no, he’s a good guy and a great dad to Julie and Carlos. It’s just that Alex isn’t looking for a replacement father figure like Reggie or adult validation like Luke. Alex may only be seventeen years old, but he’s had his fill of parents, thank you very much.
That’s not to say that it hasn’t been absolutely amazing to fit themselves into the Molina household. Ever since the night of the Orpheum when Julie loved them so damn much it saved their lives, they’ve been visible to the people around them. To all the people around them. Including her father who had traipsed into the garage unannounced, taken one look at them draped all over his daughter, and said, “Oh, you flew in from Sweden?”
They’d frozen in shock for a few seconds during which Alex’s brain dissolved into a litany of holy shit holy shit holy shit and Ray seemed to realize his mistake and started mumbling out random Swedish words that Alex was pretty sure were Ikea products.
Delighted as always to see Ray, Reggie had been the first one to regain his voice, launching into an explanation about wanting to celebrate their big night and needing a place to crash all while putting on some ridiculous accent that he clearly thought sounded Swedish. It definitely didn’t. Ray just looked increasingly baffled.
It was Julie that saved them, of course, cutting in to say, “I meant Sweden, New York, Dad,” because she’s smarter than all of them combined.
“Oh,” Reggie said, dropping the accent and breaking into a huge smile. “Yeah. New York. Hi, Mr. Molina!”
“Hi…Reggie, is it?” Ray had guessed and that’s when everything started feeling a whole lot better. Because it turned out that he’d been studying their performances and trying to learn as much about Julie’s bandmates as possible. He knew all their names, their little routines onstage, and every single lyric they’d ever performed. And when they came up with some explanation about being evicted from their apartment in Sweden, New York, he didn’t hesitate even a second before inviting them to stay.
The only ground rule he laid down is that they weren’t allowed in Julie’s bedroom past eight PM. That would normally annoy them, especially Luke, but there was something about being presented with a parent who actually gave a shit that struck them all to the heart, even Alex. When he was alive, his parents had never cared where he was or who he was with or what he was doing as long as it didn’t involve kissing boys. It was nice that Ray loved Julie enough to care.
Besides, Alex and his friends were ghosts – they could be anywhere at any time and disappear in a split second if need be. No curfew was going to hold them down.
Which is why Alex is currently sneaking down the hallway at nearly ten o’clock, eyes locked on Julie’s bedroom door. He knows he could just poof in like Luke and Reggie always do, but he loves this new, tangible body way too much not to use it as much as possible. He’ll ghost any way he likes, dammit.
Ray’s door is open just a crack and as Alex tiptoes past, he hears something that bids him pause. At first he thinks Ray is talking to himself, but when he hears a shaky intake of breath, he realizes that Ray is praying instead. And just because Alex has never accidentally called him Dad like Reggie or doesn’t look at him with eyes shining like stars like Luke, it doesn’t mean he doesn’t care about the guy. So he stops in his tracks and holds his breath, listening to make sure that Ray is alright. He has no idea what he’ll do if Ray isn’t alright – interrupt his prayers to hug him? probably not – but he still needs to know.
“—I have no idea how we would have gotten through this without her,” Ray is saying, voice quiet but strong. Alex figures he must be talking about Tía Victoria. “I thank You for her, Dios, and I ask You to bless her.”
As he continues, it becomes clear that Ray isn’t crying out in pain, isn’t beseeching a higher power during a particularly hard night, but is closing his day with a prayer as he often must. It makes Alex breathe a sigh of relief. He’s glad Ray is okay.
Alex has every intention of continuing his journey down the hall, but when he hears Julie’s name he stops again. Because despite his own discomfort with religion – you think this is what God wants for you? He gave you life and now you throw it back in His face? – he wants Julie, his best friend in the whole world, to be blessed in any way she can.
“I thank You for my wonderful hija, Julie,” Ray says and Alex can’t help but smile. Julie is wonderful, that’s for sure. “Even when the world seems so dark, she brings the light with her, through her music, through her smile, through her love for everyone she meets. I pray that she’ll continue to heal from our loss and I thank You that she has Flynn and the boys to hold her together when she needs it.”
At the mention of Alex and his friends, something strangely warm spreads through his chest, comforting in a way he hasn’t felt in a really long time. The thought that someone might be thankful for his presence isn’t completely foreign – he’s always known that Luke and Reggie love him and that love only grew when they met Julie – but it still feels vast and overwhelming.
“And I thank You for Carlos, every energetic piece of him,” Ray goes on, laughter in his voice. “I’ve never met a happier kid and that must be on You, because I don’t see how it could possibly be on me. Help me to nurture that within him and help him grow into the man he’s meant to be. It’s hard without Rose, Dios, but I still want to do it.”
At the plea, Alex is overcome with an almost uncontrollable urge to bust into Ray’s room yelling about what a good job he’s doing – even by himself, even without Rose – but he forces himself to bite it back.
Which means he hears it loud and clear when Ray says, “And, God, I thank You for Luke.” Alex’s eyes go wide. “He’s a good kid and he makes my Julie so happy – happier than I’ve ever seen her. I pray that he’s able to keep his passion as he gets older and that You’ll heal some of the sadness inside of him. And I thank You for Reggie, who has filled this house up with more joy than I ever thought was possible. Dios, help him know that he has a family now and that he can relax, that he can just be.”
Alex’s shoulders are starting to shake as he struggles to breathe, blown away by the sheer volume of care pouring from the man on the other side of the door. He’s never heard anyone talk about his friends like that, at least not until Julie.
He more than half expects Ray to end his prayer there, because why would someone so religious ever mention Alex to God? He’s been cool thus far about Alex being gay, but there’s an entire chasm between not hating someone and actively caring about their wellbeing. He knows the difference – he’s felt the difference.
But then Ray continues on without a moment of uncertainty, praying just as strongly and confidently as before, “God, I thank You so much for Alex. I couldn’t ask for a better friend for Julie and I’m so glad to have him. He’s such a brave kid and I pray that no matter what happens, he knows that he always has unconditional love and support here at home.” The word rings through Alex’s head on a loop – home home home home – until his knees feel so weak and shaky he’s afraid he might fall to the ground. His vision is blurry with tears.
Then Ray says, “We love him and I know You do, too,” and Alex can’t take it anymore. He poofs out to the garage.
He crawls into the bed Ray set up for him in the loft and cries harder than he has since before he died. Harder than he did for those twenty-five years in the dark room, even. It reminds him of times long past, of lying in his old bedroom in tears, begging God to fix him, to change him, even to kill him. But this time he’s not looking to be fixed, this time his brain is full of unconditional support and we love him and home.
Home home home.
He’s never associated home with anyone but his bandmates, his best friends, but as the tears trickle from the corners of his eyes and drip into his hair, he wonders if maybe that’s going to change.
Ray gets up early the next morning and makes a giant heap of pancakes for the family. It takes Alex a few minutes to get his courage up, but once he’s sure he can face Ray without breaking into tears on sight, he makes himself walk into the kitchen, heart pounding in his chest. But this time it’s not from anxiety – this time it’s from the absolute certainty that his presence is welcome.
Ray’s eyes light up when he sees him. “Oh, hey, Alex! You’re up early! Desayuno will be on in a couple minutes.”
Instead of answering, Alex makes an unfaltering path for Ray and flings his arms around him before he can chicken out.
Ray just chuckles in surprise and hugs Alex right back, rubbing a comforting hand over Alex’s back and shoulders. “You okay, kid?”
Alex nods into Ray’s shoulder, not trusting himself to speak. For the first time in a long time, he’s very, very okay. He doesn’t pull away until he’s ready, face pinking up but refusing to feel embarrassed about it. It’s not like Ray’s laughing at him – Ray would never laugh at him. Alex is starting to realize that.
He’s still not interested in having a dad – he doesn’t need a dad, for fuck’s sake – but a support system would be nice. Someone he can talk to. Someone who cares about where he is and who he’s with and what he’s doing, even if it does include kissing boys.
Maybe he’s willing to expand his definition of family, just this once.