Chapter Text
Busying himself flitting through pointlessly stupid videos on his phone, he wasn’t even enjoying himself. They merely served as a means to kill time and distract himself from yet another horrible night’s sleep plagued with nightmares. Being suspended above a pit of crocodiles would forever be etched in his mind and with Mr. Bray distributing the flyer detailing the next school field trip to the London Zoo with their famous Philippine crocodile pictures at the top, there was no question why this innocent suggestion dredged up the worst his mind had to offer.
Already Jack had signed off that he would not be in attendance—something that started a bit of a row over dinner. Though, he had to admit, it was nice having her back and caring for him. Clearly, in this situation, she was right.
However, he reasoned it was best to wait until after the zoo trip to admit that. Already he could smell the burning bacon wafting from where Jack was attempting to cook an apology breakfast. Somehow her burnt bacon—“overcrisp” she insisted on calling it—was always the best bacon and after managing only an hour of sleep, he needed all the energy he could get to survive today. He did feel a little guilty later when Jack went out of her way to drive him to school as well.
Nevertheless, that was where his good favor ended. After scoring 20 points lower than he expected on his maths exam, his mood soured. Then, when the unsettling feeling of being watched distracted him while playing football in Phys Ed, he collided with James Daly, the school’s first-string striker of the varsity football team, earning them a trip to the Nurse’s office.
For him, it was merely a bruised chin and scraped knee. For JD? A broken nose—something that left him at the mercy of the rebukes from his classmates for hurting the star player a few days before the varsity team faced off against the school’s rival team next Monday.
Needless to say, spending his lunch period alone at a table in the nonfiction section of the library seemed like a wise move. At least now that he was back inside the school he no longer felt like an ant in a shadow waiting for the boot to fall. He made a mental note to take a closer look at his surroundings when walking home.
“So, are you in for this weekend? Three floors, 30 guests, a whole floor dedicated to artists and fan lore…it’s going to be awesome!”
Tom was pushing his bike and walking backwards to talk with Alex excitedly, counting off the items on his fingers. Something that had Alex keeping an eye on his progress and redirecting him from the potholes with slight pushes on his shoulder. As their usually route had a few places being repaved, they were taking a detour home. And while he no longer felt eyes watching him, he wasn’t taking any chances.
“Earth-to-Alex? Did you hear what I said? Are you in or not? Rumor has it Halle Berry is going to make a surprise appearance! Can you believe it?”
“It’s not much of a surprise then if they’ve already announced it,” Alex quipped, taking an extra look at some movers carrying a large rug from one of the shops that were relocating. While it had been written in the paper this morning, he was still uneasy about how unusually long that rug must be to warrant a diameter that large.
“That’s not the point!” Tom exclaimed.
In noticing Alex’s wandering eyes and stiffened posture, Tom stopped in his tracks, setting a hand on Alex’s shoulder with a concerned look. “Alright, spill. You’ve been weird all week. You look like a kicked zombie puppy after it’s been revived once from the grave. Maybe even twice.” Not getting a response, he added, “Look, I heard all about Daly and frankly, that guy is a walking accident. Dare I say it, moreso than you. So, it must be something else on your mind. Spill. Now.”
Alex glanced up from the broken pavement to give Tom a questioning look. “Well, that’s oddly specific. Is that some reference to the Walking Dead? I told you I only saw the first episode.”
“Now that sounds like an attempt to dodge the question,” Tom asserted flatly wagging a finger at him, frowning. “You’ve been quiet. Like, more than normal anyway. What’s wrong?”
Alex shrugged, kicking a loose pebble by his feet. Seeing no way out without hurting Tom’s feelings, he admitted softly, “They’ve been quiet.” Maybe he should’ve explained what really had happened when he collided with Daly but he felt neurotic. Clearly his mind had been playing tricks on him.
Tom opened his mouth into an ‘oh’ and closed it with a pop. Alex had been in school for almost 3 consecutive weeks, except for catching a nasty cold one weekend and taking off the one Monday. On his first week back, Alex gave him a set time to ask any of his questions under the agreement that afterward, they never talk about it. And they hadn’t. He kept his word…but now…. “Isn’t that a good thing?”
Alex shrugged. “It is,” he admitted, almost too quickly.
“But…?” Tom prompted, nudging Alex’s shoulder.
“Er…It’s too quiet. It feels like any day now, I’m going to wake back up into that living hell,” Alex admitted before whispering the truth to it. “I don’t want to go back.” He thought particularly of the phantom shoulder pain and horde of underfed reptiles from last night’s mental saga.
Immediately, Tom’s expression softened and he let his hand fall before wrapping the other into a bit of a half hug. “Okay.” Tom offered a comforting squeeze to his shoulders that made Alex blush. Altogether though, the action made him feel better and he returned the hug in a short motion.
Patting him on the back, Tom smiled. “Then how about a trip to the comic book store? We haven’t been in ages and it keeps us out of the house a bit longer.”
His friend’s happiness finally cracked his sour demeanor and he found himself genuinely smiling for the first time in a while. “You just want to pick up a Batwoman comic for Halle Berry to sign,” he accused, playfully. “Has something happened to the stash we both know you own?”
“Of course not!” Feigning hurt, Tom held a hand to his heart and gasped. “How could you even accuse me of that? All are in mint condition. Which is why marker would break my mint collection.”
“Why do I need to go then?”
“Moral support and you’ve got nothing better to do. Eh, two birds, one stone.” Hopping onto his bike, Tom took off, not waiting for Alex’s rebuttal. Of course when offered the choice between going home to do homework and spending time with Tom, the answer was obvious and Alex quickly followed suit, pedaling into town.
With only a few wispy clouds in the too blue sky, today was a far cry from the overcast and rainy weather of the last three days and as the light breeze completed the calm springtime scene, Alex felt a little more at peace.
After helping Tom track down all the Batwoman comics in every display unit, dusty shelf, or mismatched pile of the store, Tom had dismissed him to undergo the arduous process of selecting precisely which one would be ideal.
At first, Alex thought he could help until Tom went crazy running his fingers over the cover to assess which material would produce the cleanest signature, even sniffing the ones that he thought carried an odor.
Brushing off the stares of the other customers and store clerk, Alex decided perhaps it’d be better to wait outside instead.
Watching the people stroll by on the sidewalk and the cars go by was…nice. While Tom was always talking and energetic, Alex always found simple enjoyment in the little things. Tom often chattered away about this popular kid, that gorgeous girl, or that unbelievable party though without being at the beck and call of ‘6, Alex realized he was far more content to sit along the side, doing his own thing while others paraded themselves around. He wasn’t even sure he liked girls either.
Closing his eyes, he sighed. Things were a lot less complicated when they were kids.
He could hear the squeal of the breaks of an old truck come to a stop down the street.
Nothing about it was out of the ordinary. But when a woman yelled and a man grunted, his eyes snapped open and he witnessed two men attempting to wrangle a woman into the back of their truck.
Immediately, he sprung into action, “Hey!”
Sprinting over, Alex pulled the first man off, grabbing his arm as his partner released the woman in surprise.
Then, the next few moments made little sense.
The woman—instead of using the opportunity to escape—turned and slapped a handkerchief over Alex’s face as half a dozen bystanders run their direction and unholster weapons trained on him.
Whipping his head to the side, he only got a whiff of the sweet smelling handkerchief and thrashed to get away.
The butt of a gun smashed into his head—the crack heard clearly over the the bustling of the agents—but no one came to his aid. Rather, he dropped to his knees and was subjected to countless hits to his head and back until he was subdued enough to be confined.
With a man securing each limb and the woman kneeling into his back hard pushing the air out of his lungs as he laid prone on the pavement.
For a few seconds he was able to hold his breath but the effort left him weak and lightheaded. Too soon he gave in, breathed in the chemicals, and blacked out.
Tom left the shop triumphant with his prized Batwoman comic to find an empty street and only his own bike secured to the street lamp.
“Alex?”
Looking around, he couldn’t spot his fair haired friend anywhere. Glancing at his watch, he realized it was nearly dinner time. Nothing seemed unusual and yet something still felt off.
He flinched when his phone vibrated in his pocket with a text from Alex.
<<Hey Tom, had to run, sorry.>>
Tom waited a beat to see if he’d have anymore of an explanation but there was nothing and he tried not to feel sad about it.
<<It’s alright. Do you still want a ticket for Comic Con?>>
Unlatching his bike, he pedaled home and didn’t realize until he woke up the following morning that Alex never responded.