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The truck pulled into the lot, Michael's head lolling back against the headrest. He kept his eyes for a moment, reliving the last hour over and over in his mind.
He took in a deep breath, pushing open the door and slipping out of his truck, “Where were you all day?” Sanders called, walking across the lot, beer in hand.
Michael raised his brows, head cocked to the side, “I didn’t realise I had a curfew,” he said.
Sanders grunted, “Hilarious,” He quipped.
“Just the usual, hanging with friends, saving lives and defeating evil aliens,” All of that seemed pretty inconsequential compared to the events that occurred at the end of the evening, Michael fought the urge to run his hand across his lips.
“I miss when the ‘usual’ was working on the lot,” Sanders said, “Do you think tomorrow between defeating aliens you could take a look at Mr Simon’s car? You know, the job I pay you for,” He teased.
Michael narrowed his eyes, “Hilarious,” he whispered.
Sanders went to speak when he noticed something behind Michael, his lips being drawn into a small smile.
Michael spun around, his own mouth spreading out into a smile, “Alex?” He said.
Alex was walking across the lot, his hands shoved in his pocket, a folder tucked under his arm, “Hey,” He smiled, nodding his head to the man behind Michael, “Sander, hi,”
After the Wild Pony, Michael and Alex had sat and talked for a while, lost in their own little world where Jones and alien communication machines didn’t exist. Despite neither of them wanting to leave, the night had come to an end as the morning crept closer.
Michael frowned, wondering what had pulled Alex out of the bed he had been looking forward to climbing into, “Everything alright?” He asked, noticing the way Alex was nervously biting his lip.
“Yeah, yeah, I just wanted to drop this off,” He said, pulling one hand from his pocket and handed the file over to Michael.
Michael glanced down at the brown file, “The Caulfield file on the Lockhart machine,” He breathed, glancing back up at Alex.
Alex nodded his head, “Yeah, I’m at work tomorrow, so thought you might want to take a look at this before I have to bring it back,” Alex said, his hands ringing together nervously.
Michael smiled, his fingers running across the writing on the front, “Thanks,” He said. Despite the nervous energy radiating off Alex, he grinned back at Michael.
“You wanna beer, kid?” Sanders said, Michael completely forgetting the man was there, and from the look on Alex’s face, so had he.
He gave a polite smile, “Uhh, I should get going; let you guys sleep,” He smiled.
Sanders scoffed, “Nonsense, he ain’t gonna sleep now he’s got that, I’ll be back in a minute,” He said, patting Michael on the back as he walked across the lot and disappeared into the dark. Michael and Alex strode over to the chairs outside Michael’s trailer, the fire pit already lit.
Alex sat down, his hand nervously tapping on his thigh. Michael grabbed the chair closest to Alex and dragged it, so the armrests were practically touching.
“You okay?” He asked as he sat next to Alex, placing the file on the floor, the information inside not his priority.
Alex nodded, “Yeah, I’m fine,” He said too quickly for him to have put any thought into the answer.
Michael didn’t say anything, just looked at Alex, who was watching the flames rise from the pit and disappear into smoke, “I spoke to Eduardo,” He said, “Kyle’s condition still hasn’t changed,” His head ducked, and the glow of the fire revealed the water gathering in Alex’s eyes.
Michael sighed, closing his eyes. Today had been long for once they had managed to get some wins; they had the pod, Maria was awake, and they managed to break his connection to her.
It had had a nice distraction from the fact that Kyle was still unconscious, and they had no idea how to wake him up, “Does he have any idea of who made the drug?” Michael asked, feeling he already knew the answer.
“No,” Alex said, his jaw and hand clenching as he clearly thought about whoever had done this to Kyle.
Alex hadn’t spoken much about Kyle; he had informed the group that he was safe and had divulged to Michael what had actually happened to him. He had spoken factually, giving times and dates and not much else.
There was a long list of things they had to deal with right now, and all of them required them to be logical and focused. Michael knew it was hurting Alex to not be helping Kyle, to have to leave it in the hands of his boss.
Michael reached across the chairs, snaking his hand into Alex’s. “He’ll be okay; we’ll figure it out,” He assured.
"How'd you know," Alex asked, his voice low.
Michael didn't.
He sighed, giving his head a slight shake, "I don't," He admitted, "But I know us," Alex's eyes flicked over to him, a tear caught in the corner of his lashes, "We always work it out," He felt the tension leave Alex’s hand, the muscles relaxing. He smiled at Michael, and although his words couldn’t save Kyle, the promise that they would seem to be comforting enough, "No one gets left behind...even if it Kyle,"
Alex gave a small huff; almost a laugh . Michael reached over, wiping the tear before it fell onto Alex's cheek, "You like him, admit it," Alex laughed.
Michael smiled, giving a small shrug.
"Maybe a little," He muttered, smiling.
Alex relaxed back into the chair, his hand still clutching Michael's, “Tomorrow, I’ll talk to my boss about getting you access to the machine,” Alex said, changing the subject, his thumb brushing Michael’s hands.
“Can’t see him being eager to let an alien into his top-secret club,” Michael said.
“Actually,” Alex said, sitting forwarding in his chair, “he thinks an alien might be the key to this,” Michael nodded, reaching down with his free hand to pick up the file. Alex pulled his hand back to let Michael hold the file correctly, Michael frowning at the loss of touch; Michael was fully committed to reading this file one-handed. He glanced at Alex, who was giving him a playful smile, Michael’s disappointment obviously clear on his face.
It took Michael only a few minutes to read the file, “So all they know is that the Lockhart Machine activates every 47 days at 11:11 p.m. for only one minute and that Jim snuck it out of Caulfield” Alex nodded, “And we know my mom and Pratrica built the machine to communicate with aliens, and we know on 1969 it went off for the first time,” Alex nodded again as his elbows rested on his thighs, “So we still don’t know how this thing works,” Michael sighed, slumping back into the chair as he continued to read for anything that would help them.
“When I looked at it the other day, there were symbols inside it. Kinda like the ones on the alien tech,” Alex reached over, flicking through the file to the end, a small drawing clipped to the folder with symbols drawn out, “You recognise them?” Alex asked.
“No, I’ve never seen these before,” Michael said.
He glanced at the last page in the folder, “There’s redacted information,” He said, “Here,” He tilted the file towards Alex, motioning to a large section blacked out. Alex stared down at the information, shifting in his seat, “You know what it says,” Michael said, closing the folder.
“It’s just about the other workers assigned to the machine,” He said.
“Well, what did they find?” Michael asked, the file containing no such information.
“Nothing, no one made any progress with the machine,” He said.
“Expect you,” Michael said, unable to stop the smirk on his lips, “So what happened to Dr Lockhard?” Michael asked, flicking through the file again.
“He uh, died,” Maybe it was the pause between Michael’s question and Alex’s answer, or maybe it was the pause between Alex’s words, but Michael felt his stomach drop for a moment.
“How?” He asked. Only the fire answered Michael, the flames crackling in the night, “Alex, what aren’t you telling me,” He asked, leaning closer.
Alex sighed, wetting his lips before he leaned back in the chair, “There was an agent at deep-sky that was assigned to the Lockhart machine, Trevor Gunther,”
Michael leaned forward so quickly he almost slipped off the chair, “The guy that stabbed you?” He asked.
Alex just nodded, continuing with his story, “He used to be a code breaker until he became obsessed with figuring out the machine and what it was for; he craved those symbols into a wall,” He said, nodding his head towards the file that held the unreadable symbols.
Michael shocked his head, “Wait, I thought nobody had found the symbols before you,” He said.
“No one had,” Michael’s frown intensified as he began to get lost in Alex’s words. “Eduardo thinks that machine put the symbols in his mind like it was trying to communicate with him,”
Michael reached up, rubbing his hand over his mouth. It made sense, alien glass is half biological, and it wasn’t a stretch from what Maria and Isobel had told them that it could place information inside peoples heads.
But it wasn’t meant to communicate with people; it was alien DNA if it tried to connect with a human... “Are you, are you saying the machine drove Trevor crazy?” Michael asked.
Alex swallowed hard, “Eduardo tried to give Trevor other projects, but he wouldn’t stop trying to work out the machine, and he...killed him,”
“And he assigned you to this?” Michael called, his hands dropping and clenching around the armrest so hard the plastic began to crack and creak, “knowing a man killed himself because of it,”
Alex’s head fell forward before he looked back over at Michael, “He was going to tell me-”
“Before or after it drove you crazy?” He said, pushing himself off the chair and pacing on the spot as the energy started to flicker to life in his body, “You can’t work on that machine-”
Alex stood almost, his hands held on in front of him like he was pleading, “What no, this is the only way to find out what it does, why jones wants it,” Alex urged.
Michael turned to him, “Alex, this machine killed someone, drove them to suicide,” He said, talking slowly in the hope that the words would sink into Alex and all their seriousness.
“If you work on it long,” Alex corrected, “I’ve already had a breakthrough okay, I can work out what it does before-
Michael held his hands up, “No, it’s too dangerous.”
“Jones is dangerous,” Alex called, “and right now he wants this machine,”
“Then give it to me, and I’ll work on it,” Michael said, “If it was built by aliens, then it must not affect them,”
Alex’s head tilted to the side, “I can’t just sneak this thing out,” he said. Alex reached out, taking Michael’s hands and holding them close, “Michael, I’m fine, okay-”
“It’s not worth the risk,” Michael ordered, shaking his head.
Alex’s brows pulled together, “This machine could be the answer to everything you have ever wanted to know, be a chance to find out where you guys came from, how is it not worth the risk-”
“Because you could get hurt!” Michael cried, his bottom lip beginning to tremble. Michael pulled his hands from Alex’s and cupped Alex’s face, his thumbs caressing his cheek as his fingers weaved into Alex’s hair, “No answer, nothing here or out there, is worth losing you for,” He declared, his face moving close to Alex’s, “If I have to choose between you, and getting answers from that radio,” Michael started, giving a small laugh, “I will choose you, ever time,”
It was the only thing Michael knew was true, the only unequivocal truth Michael never doubted. Michael’s hands dropped from Alex’s face, coming to rest on his lower jaw and neck, his head leaning forward till their foreheads were touching, “I just got you back,” he whispered.
After a moment, he felt Alex’s hands lay on top of his, “You picked a hell of a time for a grand gesture,” Alex breathed.
Michael pulled his head back up, their hands fell from Alex’s face, their fingers lacing together between them, “We’ll work the machine out together , but for now, stay away from it?” Michael asked.
“Okay,”
“Okay?” Michael repeated, “That’s it?”
Alex laughed, “Did you want to argue?” He teased. His face turned more serious as he stepped closer to Michael, “Look, today you stayed the course, and I know how hard it was to leave that sword in Jones's hand, least I can do it stay away from the possible mind-melting alien radio till we figure something out,” Michael just smiled, pulling Alex’s hands to his lips and kissing them gently.
“We make quite a team,” Michael teased, “So listen, how about after all this daddy jones drama is over, we have a night where we don’t talk about aliens or deep sky, or evil fathers?”
Alex raised his brows, a smile on his lips as he spoke, “You mean like a date?” He asked.
Michael shrugged, “I mean, it seems like the next step after admitting we can’t live without the other right,” despite everything they had been through over the 13 years, a simple date with no mentions or aliens or secrets clouding the mind had never occurred.
Alex’s head fell back as he laughed. “It’s a date then,” He grinned. Alex sighed, glancing around the pitch-black lot, “I should get going,” He said.
Michael pursed his lips for a moment, pulling Alex closer, “It’s late; you could always crash here,”
“As...appealing as that sounds,” Alex smirked, pulling his arms up to wrap them around Michael’s shoulders, “I’ve early start tomorrow, and If I stay here, I don’t see me making it to work on time,” He teased, one brow jolting up. “But how about met at the crashdown after work?” He asked.
“Sounds like a plan,” Michael said.
Alex leaned forward, his hand pulling Michael closer to him as their lips met. It had only been an hour since they had kissed, but it had felt like a lifetime to Michael. Michael's hands snaked up into Alex’s hair, gently tugging at the ends. They were so bound in the kiss that the broken world around them ceased to exist. Alex pulled back, hovering close to Michael’s lips for a moment, “Please be safe,” Michael whispered, a request to Alex and a pray to whoever would listen.
Alex nodded, placing one final fleeting kiss on Michael’s lips before he started to walk across the lot. Michael smiled, watching as Alex glanced over his shoulder, smiling softly at Michael.
Michael nodded his head and watched as Alex disappeared into the dark.
Michael rocked on the heels of his feet for a moment before slumping back down into the chair.
Alex walked across the lot, a final smile cast over his shoulder to Michael, who was still illuminated by the fire. Alex finally reached his truck, going to pull the door handle when he heard footsteps behind him, “You off,” A gruff voice said.
Alex turned to face Sanders, smiling, “Uh yeah, long day,” He said, the tiredness starting to crawl back into his body.
“You know,” The older man started, his arms crossed over his chest, “I’ve spent as long as I can remember watching out for that kid,” He said, nodding back to where Guerin was, “and I may be blind, but you notice things,” Alex tried not to let the confusion show on his face, “You make him happy,” He smiled, “In a way I ain’t never seen him happy,” Alex looked down at the floor, a shy smile on his lips as he leaned against the car door, “And from what I’ve seen you look out for him, and hell I know he doesn’t always make it easy,” They shared a laugh, the older man nodding at him, “Thank you,” He said,
It was simple and quiet, but Alex swallowed down the emotions that crept up his throat. The man started to walk away.
“Walt,” Alex called, the man stopping and turning back towards Alex. “Thank you,” Alex almost gasped, “For taking care of him,” The words seemed to catch Sanders off guard, “Those 10 years I was gone, I’m glad he had you,” Alex wasn’t sure he would ever know the full extent of what occurred those ten years he was gone, but he was glad Michael had someone looking out for him, someone to make this cruel work feel a little better.
The man raised his head and held his hand out.
Alex reached out, shaking the man’s hand; Sanders gave Alex’s hand a brief squeeze before letting go.
“Alex,” Both turned to see Michael jogging towards them, “You left this,” He said, handing the Caulfield file over to Alex.
“You two get distracted, huh?” Sanders said, earning a playful glare from Michael, Alex unable to stop himself from smirking.
“Thanks,” Alex said, “I’ll see you at the diner tomorrow to let you know what Ramos says,”
“The diner?” Sanders repeated, “You ain’t going to offer to cook,” He said, looking over at Michael, “Come round around 6; hopefully, he’ll have some manners by then,” Sanders teased.
“Weren’t you meant to be bringing beer,” Michael said to Sanders, eyes narrowed.
Alex could help but smile at the pair; despite their teasing, he could see it came from a place of love. Sanders held his hands up in mock defeat as he stepped back from the pair and headed towards where Michael had come from.
“You know I’m starting to think he’s the block you’re a chip off of,” Alex grinned.
“Wow,” Michael said, drawing the words out. Alex pulled the door open, slipping inside the car as Michael shut the door carefully, “I’ll see you tomorrow,” Michael said, leaning on the open window.
“Looking forward to dinner,” Alex said.
Michael scoffed, smiling and shaking his head at Alex. He leaned through the window, placing a quick kiss on Alex’s lips, “Get home safe,” he said as he pulled back. Alex nodded and smiled, turning the engine on and pulling out of the lot.
Michael reached the fire pit again; Sanders sat in one of the chairs, “So uh, he’s a friend?” He asked, holding out a beer to Michael.
He took it, slumping down in the chair opposite the man. “Turns out, maybe we are a thing,” Michael said, sipping his beer.
“Your pardon my lack of shock, kid,” The man said, “Nice of you two to finally catch up with what the rest of us already knew,”
It wasn’t that they didn’t know. Michael always knew he loved Alex; nothing ever changed that fact. What had changed was them ; neither was so bound up in trauma, grief and guilt that they could not be who the other needed.
“So…” Michael started, his beer resting on his leg,” “Dinner tomorrow?” he said, a simple way of asking, where the hell did that come from?
“Well, imma guess he’s going to be hanging around here a lot more often?” Sanders said, not wanting for Michael to answer the question, seemingly knowing the answer, “I wanna know who the kid is,” He said.
Michael smiled, no sarcasm or teasing, just a simple thank you. Between dictator Jones and torture Jesse Michael had given up on either Michael or Alex having a normal parental relationship, but as Michael sat around the fire with Sanders, he felt a flicker of hope in his chest, “I’m happy for you, son,” Sanders quietly said as he sipped his beer, “He seems like a good ‘un’,”
A good’un was a vast understatement. Michael had lost track of all Alex had done for him and the others, what he had sacrificed and given to ensure they were safe and happy.
And despite people and the world being nothing but cruel to him, he was nothing but kind and strong.
A soft and comforting smile graced Michael’s lips, “Yeah, he is,” He whispered.
"Alright kid, I'm off," Sander sighed, pushing himself off the chair. He stretched for a moment, patting Michael on the shoulder.
"Sanders," He called, the man stopping and turning to face Michael.
He cleared his throat, leaning forward on his knee's, "Thank you," He wasn't sure what he was thanking Sanders for.
For trying to home him when he was younger.
For taking him in when he was older.
For simply being here now.
The man smiled, and so did Michael.
Michael pushed himself off the chair and headed back into his trailer.
He ran his hand through his hair as he placed his hat down on the table. Michael slumped back down into his bed, his arm placed behind his head as he looked up at the roof. He sighed, relaxing into the bed and turning to look out the window, the sky and stars staring back. When Michael was younger, he would sit in the desert, staring up and think about how he would get home. He wasn't sure when it changed, but Michael stopped looking for a home in the sky and stars.
Michael's eyes flicked to the corner of the window, the picture of he and Alex tucked in tight. Michael reached out, his fingers gently touching the image.
He grinned; maybe he could remember when the stars stopped being home, and Roswell did.