Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Alex could only watch on the monitor as scientists in the lab loomed over Michael's thrashing form. The straps becoming increasingly tighter the harder Michael resisted.
If it weren't for Liz's serum running through Michael's veins, Alex knew those straps wouldn't have touched skin before Michael TK'd every person in that room into the concrete walls. Unconscious at the first hit.

He could feel Jesse's smug grin boring into the back of his skull. The man practically juicing from the anguish he could sense coming off Alex. Loving each second he forced Alex to watch the love of his life struggle for his freedom.

The scientists ordered one of the four soldiers in the room to hold Michael's head in place. As a soldier moved into place behind Michael's head, their hands pressing harshly against both sides of Michael's skull, a scientist brought out a syringe filled with a clear substance.

Alex could only guess what the seemingly innocuous serum would do.

The scientist hovered the needle of the syringe over Michael's neck, the veins prominent from Michael's attempts to jerk free from the soldiers’ grip.

"The boys in the lab have been dying to try out a new serum they've been working on. From what I've heard, it puts a whole new spin on injecting acid. Apparently it has something to do with an inverted chromosome or something. I don't know, but the scientists were sure excited about it."

Jesse chuckles, his smirk deepening at the audible crack Alex's knuckles make as his son clenches his hands into painful fists.
Alex's eyes never leave the screen, his eyes tracking each breath Michael stutters out, trying and failing to tell himself that they were going to get out of this.

Both of them.

"I have unlimited access to an entire floor of other alien specimen. I can easily pick a number and Michael would be spared. Free to rot in his cell until the next experiment comes along. I have a feeling he's going to be a favorite with the guards--"

A primal roar rips from deep within Alex's chest as he turns and lunges at his father. Gripping him by the collar, he pushes the older man up against the wall, his feet barely touching the ground.

The two armed soldiers that, till now, had been near virtual fixtures to the walls raised their weapons and aimed their firearms at the back of Alex's head.

So many words and threats flash through Alex's mind. Threats that included more limb detachment and eviscerated throats then any evolved human should be capable of.
All he could manage to voice however was a long deep growl as his blunt nails dug into the exposed skin of Jesse's collar.

For the briefest of moments, Jesse witnesses Alex's eyes shine an inhuman gold.

Jesse laughs, not even a little startled at the clear threat to his life Alex clearly was.

"There he is." From Alex's back, Jesse waves the soldiers off.

The three soldiers hesitate, understandably unsure about lowering their weapons on the man currently pinning their Superior to the wall.

"Remember, Alex. All it takes is my word and your precious alien becomes just another corpse."

Alex's grip on Jesse briefly tightens, his chest noticeably vibrating with a whining growl.

Against his brittling will, flashes of Michael laying on a slab, cold and lifeless passes across his vision. The images increasing in gore and horror as he witnesses scientists cutting Michael open, extracting vital organs.

He doesn't feel his grip loosen, becoming more like a clinging child's than an animalistic avenger's.

Noticing that his men have yet to lower their weapons, Jesse grunts in annoyance. "Stand down, men. Captain Manes and I are just coming to an understanding."

Alex's head lowers, unconsciously shaking his head in an attempt to dispel the nightmarish images that continue to mock him.

"What do you want?"

Jesse's already spine tingling aura takes on that of a shark about to consume a school of fish.

"You."

Alex, finally fighting the tide of images, meets his father's gaze.

"You revert and join me. Do that and I’ll release Michael back into his worthless, town drunk life."

Ice explodes within Alex's lungs, going to battle with the warming hope brewing in his heart.

He swore to never, ever release that part of himself again. Not after what happened in Iraq. He could still feel the blood dripping down his hands, coating his face and fatigues in blood.

More often than not he wakes to the screams of the victims that were too slow to escape.

Could he really give the leash to that kind of power to Jesse Manes? A full blown torturer, hell-bent on hunting down and experimenting on alien refugees.

Sensing his hesitation, Jesse easily raises his hand to his right ear, activating an ear piece that Alex had failed to notice earlier.

"Increase pressure."

Eyes widening, Alex's attention spins back to the monitor, his heart fixing to punch straight through his chest.

Seeming to be following his father's command, the scientist holding the syringe slowly pushes the needle into Michael's neck.

The hiss of pain Michael releases is enough to conceive a full body whimper in Alex, all too aware of his blame for the torture Michael is enduring.
He knew falling in love with Michael was dangerous, even before finding out his lover was from another world.

Loving someone like Alex was akin to ingesting antifreeze. At first taste, it was sweet and all-encompassing but allow the addiction to continue and that sweetness will turn deadly
Alex knew he should have never gifted Michael that guitar all those years ago. He knew the door he was opening. But it was like his soul was crying out for Michael's, desperate to conjoin and never untangle.

Before Michael, soul mates to him were nothing more than a cringey cliche in trashy romances. Now though, soul mates is all too accurate for the way Michael and he connect.
Like their destinies were cosmically linked.

"Like I said, Alex. I have access to plenty of other specimen, I don't need Michael. The question is whether he leaves these premises in a body bag or on his own two feet."

Alex can see the scientist's thumb resting on the plunger, only a hair's breadth away from depositing the deadly serum into Michael's bloodstream.

"How do I know you won't just kill him anyway?" He whispers, his voice barely audible.

"You don’t, but my scientists are a lot more likely to be using other specimen if you join me."

Alex looks again at the screen, his body yearning to travel through the screen and shove that syringe down the scientists throat.

"If I join you I want Michael immediately released, alive and not further harmed. And I want to be there every second of his transference from here to his trailer."

Barely a second passes before Jesse responds, " Deal."

Alex's eyes slip shut as the leaden weight of resolve hardens in his gut.

"Call them off, please." His voice breaks, knowing that after today he's likely never going to see Michael again.

At least while he was stationed halfway across the world there was only an ocean or a border separating them. With this decision though, they were up against more than well aimed verbal jabs. Instead, it was an army of secrets and well intentioned sacrifice.

With only a smug look, knowing he had once again over powered his son, Jesse activated his ear piece.

"Echo-2-Delta."

Alex audibly sighs with relief as the needle is slid out of Michael's skin then ultimately disposed of in a nearby metal briefcase.

He continues to watch the monitor as the scientists quickly and efficiently unstrap Michael from the table. Then, just as quickly, the scientists evacuate the room. Michael is only able to briefly struggle against the soldiers' hold before he is being hauled up from the table and out of the room by the armed soldiers.

Alex immediately panics upon no longer having a visual on Michael, not so irrationally fearing that within the few seconds since viewing the other man, Michael had been killed.

"C'mom son, let's see your precious alien off." Without waiting for a response, Jesse turns and exits the room, fully knowing Alex would follow.

It's not a surprise that the three soldiers are quick to form a barrier behind Alex, weapons at the ready in case he deigns to try anything.

Chapter Text

Michael immediately knows something is going on the moment the guards drag him past the cell he had been in for God knows how many days.

He had tried keeping track at first, going by the number of meals he received, that being three a day. However, after what he guessed to be the third or fourth day, he was lucky to receive one tray of drugged gruel a day.

(Past)

The first time he had woken up in his cell, his head had felt like someone was using his brain to spin wool.

He had had to use the meagre metal bench in the cell as an assist while sneakily rising to his feet. It took everything in him not to puke the moment his body became vertical.

He was no stranger to the effects of one too many questionable alcoholic drinks. Hell, it was a regular state of being the first time Alex was deployed to yet another war torn part of the world. Promising to keep in touch when they both knew it was a lie.

But this feeling wasn't the result of one too many at The Pony. No, this was draining, bordering on catatonic.

Although he had personally never been on

the receiving end before, he was certain what he was experiencing was Liz's alien power muting serum.

Having needed to prove his suspicions, Michael raised his hand, the scarred appendage visibly trembling, and attempted to levitate the bench off the ground.

The moment he tried to access his telekinesis his head was hit with what he could only describe as a cage, preventing him from reaching his power. Tantalizingly close, yet out of reach.

Not ready or willing to give in so easily, Michael tried to push through, desperate to

stamp out the helpless feeling that was trying to strangle him.

After what felt like minutes but was really only seconds, Michael was left gasping and forced to collapse onto the bench. On his upper lip, he could feel a patch of wetness traveling down his chin.

He pressed the back of his hand to his nose and pulled it back to reveal blood.

Judging by the military grade locking mechanism he can see on the cells across from his, he's stuck in a military prison. At the mercy of Jesse Manes (because who else could it be) without access to his powers.

Fuck.

Looking around his cereal-box cell, he noticed a security camera blinking away at him.

Crafting on the best shit eating grin he could muster, Michael slowly Saunters over to the camera until he was standing directly beneath it.

"I know I'm pretty to look at Chief Master Sergeant Manes, but is the cage really necessary?" He mockingly enunciates the older man's title.

The red light affixed to the camera continues to blink.

"How about this? You come down here and I'll let you take a look at the goods, huh?" He waved his hands up and down his body, suggestively waggilng his eyebrows.

The light on the camera blinked a few more times before turning off.

It wasn't long before the sound of the cell door unlocking had him turning around.

Jesse Manes stood behind the narrow, bullet proof window on his cell door, staring in on him with a smug look.

Michael watched as the door to the cell rolled open and was at last face to face with the older Manes.

"Hello, Michael."

"Hello, Chief Master Douche."

Ignoring the remark, Jesse plowed ahead. "I always knew there was something wrong about you, Guerin. Couldn't put my finger on what until the night my base's security drones picked up you, Max and Isobel Evans covering up those high schoolers' murders."

Michael's blood turned cold. He did his best to cover his shock but Manes had already seen the slip.

He continued, "I thought about hauling you all in on the spot, locking you three away in separate cells. Letting my scientists use you guys as lab rats. But then I got to thinking, what's the point in instant gratification when the long buildup can be even more satisfying?"

The older man laughed, "You know, at first I was completely against yours and my son's relationship. Just the thought of him breathing in the same air as you was enough to make me sick. Don't get me wrong, I'm still against it. However, I've come to realize the potential your so called love has. For instance,"

He pulls his hands out from behind his back and reveals a tablet.

"I've never known more about my son's life. Like where his favorite bar is, where he likes to jog and even how he takes his coffee." As he speaks his fingers flip through various pictures of Alex in various different settings. Settings that included The Pony, The Crashdown and even Michael's trailer.

What once was icy fear evolved into a fiery inferno of rage. His feet were moving forward without his knowledge, his hands curled into fists the closer he got.

"I'll fucking kill you." He hisses, picking up the implied threat that Jesse was laying out.

Of course the older man wouldn't hesitate to hurt his son. Abuse was an abhorrently common aspect of Alex's life growing up. If hurting Alex meant being able to manipulate an alien to his will, you can damn count on Jesse Manes to pull the trigger himself.

Jesse laughs and Michael knew he was playing right into Jesse's hands. Indifference would have been a better response, hell even a remark about the crappy quality of the pictures would have at least given Michael a shield to hide behind.

"As long as you cooperate, all my knowledge will just be interesting little tidbits." He remarks, doing nothing to wipe away his glee.

Michael's sure if he clenched his teeth any harder he'd be looking at a mouthful of cracked and broken enamel.

"What do you want?" He had a pretty good idea but it would be easier in the long haul to hear it out right.

Maintaining his smirk, Jesse stepped further into the room.

"As you can imagine, my current specimen aren't as nubile as they once were. Their minds, for the most part, have deteriated beyond repair and my scientists are having a hell of time completing research without a specimen going into cardiac arrest."

Michael had to bite his tongue, otherwise he's sure he would have thrown out more than a handful of genocidal anecdotes.

"Here's the deal: you willingly submit yourself as a specimen in our research and undergo all experiments and questioning, I'll leave Alex alone." Manes finishes, waiting patiently for Michael's response.

Noticing a few missing key aspects in the agreement, Michael meets the man's gaze.

"What about Max and Isobel?"

Jesse chuckles, almost in what seemed like an impressed air.

"Their lives depend on your cooperation. All of them. Any resistance or attempts at escape will result in Max and Isobel's imprisonment here and for my son to inexplicably die in a tragic accident. Do as you're told and no harm will come to them."

There was more black than gray in his response, as expected. The likely hood that he would actually walk away from two healthy, functioning aliens was like saying a coyote won't chase a rabbit.

Alex. As long as Jesse knew how deeply connected and in love Michael was with Alex, Jesse would never stop using him against Michael.

But even with these uncertainties and facts, Michael really only had one option.

"You leave them alone, and I'll do whatever you want."

Jesse's smirk bloomed into a full blown Cheshire grin.

(Present)

The soldiers out right dragging him at this point, come to a stop in front of yet another doorway. The difference with this one though was that there were two separate cornea and hand print recognition stations stationed on both sides of the metal door, reminiscent of a bank vault.

The soldier to Michael's left presses down on his shoulder "on your knees."

Having been reshackled using what could only be a waist chain, connecting his wrists to his side and one longer chain restraining both his ankles to the belt around his waist.

The soldiers on his sides were forced to assist him to his knees when it became clear by his two failed attempts at doing the task that he needed the help.

A huge part of him was tempted to take the opportunity to subdue a guard and gain an advantage. However, without access to his powers and having little to none mobility he would only be signing Alex's, Isobel and Max's lives away.

As long as three of the most important people in his life were safe, he was willing to sacrifice himself to whatever Jesse, his soldiers and scientists dreamed up.

All his life he has been looking for a reason to exist, the purpose each being in this galaxy supposedly possess.

When he had finally gotten his head out of his ass and accepted Max and Isobel as his family he had thought his role was to be the snarky, too smart for his own good bodyguard.

And for a while, it made sense.

Until Alex Manes and his sinfully tight jeans, hypnotic dark eyes and soul too pure for this world trampled into his life.

After that first kiss in a low neon green lit room, it all clicked into place.

He wasn't just the bodyguard. He wasn't just the unofficial brother of the Evans Twins and he wasn't just the brooding genius.

He was all of that and more along with being the Guardian and lover of one Alex Manes.

Even when his siblings and him were fighting about their joined secret as well as other mundane stuff, he never once stopped loving and protecting them. And, as much as his mind tries to doubt it, he knows his siblings would do the same.

Alex. Alex. Alex. Once the other man came into his life he knew he could never and would never stop loving and protecting him. Not only from Alex's abusive and homophobic prick of a father but also from the self doubt and fears that demonized him throughout life.

Things between them weren't always perfect, no relationship can be. There were cracks that occasionally needed maintenance and complete rebuilds of bridges that had been burned down.

Especially after each deployment sent Alex further into his soldier headspace and Michael down a path of self destructive tendencies and doubts.

There was even a point for two years where they had halted seeing and communicating with each other. They never officially broke up, neither seeming able to say the words but it was implied.

Michael had spent countless nights in The Pony draining Maria's liquor and walking out with nameless faces that promised a free bed and a salve for his bleeding heart.

Eventually, when Alex finally returned to Roswell and stepped inside The Pony the same night and time Michael happened to be there, the fuse was lit once more.

No, the worst had been when Alex had been hospitalized half away across the world after taking a bullet to his leg and nearly losing that leg in the process.

At the time the repeal of DADT was only just beginning to creep through the Senate floor. It was heads or tails on whether it would pass.

However, God knows how but somehow, Michael and Alex had finally started an attempt at a real relationship. Not just a quick roll in a hotel room bed or Michael's airstream with barely an exchange of words. But real communication and still secluded but nice dates out which would still lead to life affirming sex.

(Past)

Things had been going great for the first few months. They exchanged emails, phone calls and even a few video calls when Alex's coordinates permitted it. Naturally they never discussed their love life, it was too risky. Instead, they did their damn best to portray the roles of two really close friends.

And it worked, at least until Alex stopped responding to his messages.

After the first two days passed and Alex still hadn't responded to his messages, Michael decided to believe Alex just wasn't in a position with enough connection to the internet.

After a week passed and still no response Michael's doubts penetrated his thoughts. He ran through everything they had discussed, what they had done during Alex's one week of leave but came up with nothing. No trace of a moment where Michael could have fucked up.

This of course led to anger, believing that Alex was simply ignoring him for some slight that hadn't even resonated with Michael. Fueled by his anger he had messaged Alex a few unsavory and explicit words that he still regrets to this day.

Especially when he finally learned the real reason behind Alex's radio silence.

When three weeks had passed and Michael still hasn't received a response to his angry and fearful messages he was scared.

Not worried or anxious. But full blown minds-a-mess, heart's hammering, lungs-collapsing scared.

From the start of their unofficial/official relationship, Michael knew there were going to be challenges to dating an active military soldier.

The constant worrying about Alex's safety, making sure to always be on time for a phone call or video message and dreading having to let him return to whatever assignment he'd been assigned to.

But unlike most other, heterosexual military couples, Michael couldn't be written in Alex's file as a next of kin or even one of his emergency contacts.

Not only because Michael wouldn't pass the various background checks it took to make it onto that list, but also because it would lead to questions about Michael's role in Alex's life.

Another factor was Jesse Manes who without a doubt had access to his son's military personnel file.

Thus, Michael was not privy to vital information such as what condition his boyfriend was in.

They were already pushing it with the emails, phone calls and video chats. However, before his first assignment when they had gotten back together, Alex had set up a software system that scrambled Michael's location as well as identity. The phone calls were simply fixed with burner phones.

By the fifth week Isobel and Max were constantly trying to get him to go out with them, sibling bonding Isobel called it. Michael knew that it was more about making sure Michael didn't drop dead from exhaustion.

Which would be more than an inconvenience, considering Michael was ready to storm the Roswell Military base and demand answers.

Before he could finalize any plans though, his latest burner phone finally rang. Upon hearing the generic bell ringtone, Michael thought he was imagining it. Having gone so long without hearing that ringtone it had seemed too good to be true.

Locating the phone laying on his sorry excuse of a counter his eyes widened upon seeing the screen lit up and vibrating.

Only Alex and Michael himself have the number for that burner..

He nearly trips in his haste to answer.

"Alex?"

A shaky exhale answered for the first few seconds and then....

"I'm here."

Michael collapses to his knees, tears streaming down his face as he works to release the rock stuck in his throat.

Alex is alive. Michael hasn't lost him, yet.

All the rage and fear leaves him in a breath, his heart and mind consumed by overwhelming relief.

In as few words as either of them seem capable of, Alex is able to explain that he was injured in an ambush and apart from a bullet to the leg, he was okay.

It wasn't until weeks later, after Michael had met Alex at the airport and dragged him back to the airstream that they talked.

Having had a few weeks to wrap his head around the radio silence and how it made him feel, he was ready to address it with Alex. Communicating had always been a thorn they could never seem to miss.

He knew the fight that pushing the subject would cause, but Michael needed answers so that he could be there for Alex.

After picking Alex up from the airport for what would be a two week leave, Michael brought them back to the airstream.

They barely made it through dinner, which consisted of Chinese takeout and beer, before Michael tore through the cocoon that wrapped them up.

"Five weeks, Alex. 35 days. 840 hours. 50400 minutes and 302400 seconds." Michael started, setting his now empty beer bottle down.

"I told you-"

"No, you told me the redacted ending! you haven't told me what led to you ending up in a military hospital for seven weeks." He met Alex's gaze across the table and was unsurprised to see the shields taking hold in his dark eyes.

"I've told you what I could! Do you know how much I risked making that phone call to you?"

Michael can't contain the scoff that escapes him. "Well maybe I'd be more grateful if it hadn't taken you five weeks to make it!"

"I was recovering!"

"Last I checked a leg wound doesn't impair a person's ability to pick up the phone." Michael counters, all too easily falling into the dance they were all too good at.

The taste of regret leaves a sour taste in the back of Michael's throat.

Alex gives him a humorless smile and shakes his head, "this was a mistake."

Stepping away from the table, Alex goes to retrieve his duffel from off the bed.

Knowing they were on the edge of losing their precarious footing with each other, Michael slipped around the few inches of space afforded to him and blocked the doorway with his body.

"Alex wait."

Alex's grip on his duffel doesn't loosen but he also doesn't try to force Michael to move.

"I'm sorry, okay? I can only imagine what you went through over there. I get that you don't want to talk about it--"

"Then drop it." Alex interrupts, his voice wavering only slightly with the hard edge he was battling to maintain.

It was impossible to miss the pleading glaze coating Alex's eyes.

Michael wishes he could grant Alex that request. It would certainly stall the pain this conversation was going to cause both of them. However, it wouldn't hold off the root cause of the argument forever because, like an untreated wound, it would fester and rot into an even worse event.

"I can't, not if it means hurting what we're building together. Now, you don't need to tell me everything, I get that you cant right now. And maybe you never will be able to. But I need you to understand that for those five weeks that I didn't hear from you, I was barely cognitive. My mind went from one emotional extreme to the next, constantly coming up with scenarios where you had either figured out that I'm no good for you or that the next time I saw you it would be at your funeral."

Michael could see Alex's body was in fight or flight mode and Michael knew how skilled Alex was at flight.

"I need you to know how much I love you and that just the thought of living in a world without you is unimaginable torture." Michael's voice breaks as tears burn behind his eyes.

He can see the moment the first piece of armor falls from Alex's mind as the other man's hands began to tremble.

"Just let me be here for you." The rest of Alex's armor shatters to the ground as Alex drops his duffel and collapses into Michael's waiting arms.

Michael's hands traveled from Alex's back to the back of his head, his fingers lazily massaging his scalp.

Alex lifted his head from Michael's chest and met Michael's gaze. Two sets of misty eyes battling desire faced off.

Neither could say who moved first, but soon both men were entangled with each other's body. Their lips moving in sync as they're clothes were rapidly done away with.

Later on, after the moon had come to completion, the two lovers laid in bed.

It was during the afterglow that Alex had found the strength to share what had happened to him and his team.

Michael wrapped his arms around Alex in his bed, the other man laying on his chest with his ear resting over Michael's heart and his hands running through Michael's chest hair.

At first Alex was able to talk about the beginning of the failed mission in a detached clinical tone. How his team were clearing the area of friendlies and loading them onto a bus.

It was when the explosion occurred in the middle of the street that Alex's composure crumpled. Alex's words were barely coherent as he described the sight of his teammates' bodies looking more like rag dolls than humans. Michael kissed the top of Alex's head and whispered how sorry he was and how much he loved him.

(Present)

After that night, their relationship had never been stronger and it wasn't too long after that Michael finally revealed his alien secret.

Naturally, Isobel was beyond pissed at an active military member being in the know. But after a few meet ups with Alex at The Pony she begrudgingly admitted that Alex passed inspection.

Max had been the easiest to sway, especially considering his infatuation with a certain biomedical scientist.

"True love is a needle in a haystack, Michael. When you've found it, you need to do everything in your power to hold onto it. And if you've found that with Alex Manes, then I'm happy for you."

Max the sap. The two had of course then finished off a six pack around Max's campfire.

And that's what Michael was doing, he was holding onto that love with all his might.

The metal door hissed and the two soldiers stepped back as the door swung outward.

The soldiers yank him up from the floor and force him to hobble ahead through the doorway.

As soon as all five of them have passed through, the door slams shut and the light at the top flashes red.

The process is quickly repeated two more times before Michael is led down to a parking garage, housing numerous vehicles.

Including a row of three unmarked black vans, which they were headed right for.

The soldiers force him to a stop in front of one of the vans and come to a rest beside him.

Before Michael can wonder for long on why the sudden parade rest, the door to the garage opens once more and in walks Jesse Manes.

His trade mark self-assured smirk once again marring his features.

"I have some good news, Michael." He states as he stops a foot away from Michael and the soldiers.

"You're being transferred to Antarctica?"

Michael remarks, immediately sucking in a lungful of breath at the gut punch from a soldier he receives.

Jesse laughs, whether at his joke or the pain he's clearly in, Michael couldn't say for sure. Though if he had to guess, he'd lean towards the gut punch.

Swallowing down the fading pain, Michael straightens and faces Jesse.

"I'm releasing you." Jesse states, he nods to the soldiers beside Michael and one of them pulls the back door to the van open.

"What the hell does that mean?" Michael, not to stroke his own ego, knows he could be considered a genius in certain areas. However, the combination of sedatives, Liz's serum and shock numbing his system and mind, he could be forgiven for feeling like he's one brain cell away from being a sloth.

Jesse actually rolls his eyes, "it means I don't need you anymore. So, I'm returning you back to your pathetic life."

Coming out of his shock, Michael struggles against the man-handling.

"We had a deal!" He protests, doing his best to try and jerk himself free from the grips holding him.

Clearly growing tired of dealing with him, one of the soldiers pulls away enough to force Michaels left arm into an unnatural angle behind his back. His shoulder joint feels like it's seconds away from being torn clear from its placement.

Michael can't help the shout of pain that escapes him.

"Stop!" An all too familiar voice demands.

Michael watches in horror and confusion as Alex enters through the same door Jesse did, his own armed entourage trailing only a step behind him.

"Alex?"

A pained expression flashes over Alex's features before being replaced with a somber resolve.

"It's going to be okay."

Chapter Text

(Earlier)
Jesse brings the group to a stop in front of a discreet black door, the only security enhancement being a single hand print scanner.
The sign beside the door states the room beyond it being the parking garage.

Throughout the walk, Jesse hadn't spoken another word to his son, instead any communication was directed solely at the armed soldiers escorting them.

Most of the talk included orders of maintaining a hold of their weapons at all times. Not to be more than a foot away from Captain Manes at all times and to be prepared to shoot to kill if necessary

That last order caused him to choke on his exhale and briefly lose his footing.

The soldiers had managed to steady him before he could fall and in doing so had come to a complete stop.

At this, Jesse turned around and walked back the few steps between them to stand in front of Alex.

"Are we going to have a problem, Captain Manes?"
Alex swallowed, fighting the urge to lash out at the man for so casually talking about not only killing his son but Michael as well.

As if it were any everyday occurrence and not a plot in a twisted storyline.

He shouldn't be surprised at this point, especialy with how they had gotten to this, but Alex supposes there will always be a part of him that wants to believe his dad actually does love him.

"No, sir" he spat, doing his best to get into the headspace of a soldier and not the petrified little boy banging at the bars of his subconscious.

Jesse silently analyzed his face before nodding and turning back around to continue ahead. The soldiers pushed him forward and forced him to keep in stride with the older man.

Now here he was, about to see Michael for what would more than likely be the last time.

Jesse turns to face Alex, "let me make this absolutely clear. This deal we have relies on your full and complete cooperation. That means, if at anytime during this release you divulge any information regarding your revertion status or the specifics of our agreement, the deal is off and Michael is returned to his cell to await further testing."

Alex's expression hardens and he can feel his jaw clenching.

"Is that understood?" Jesse demands, taking a step closer so that they are practically chest to chest.

"Yes."

Seemingly pacified by the answer, Jesse turns his back on him
and scans his right hand in order to gain access to the garage.

(Now)

Alex hungrily takes in the sight of Michael. His heart breaks at the gauntish appearance to his handsome features. The
bags beneath his eyes as well as the obvious injection marks along his neck and forearms give voice to the suffering he's been through.

God, Alex wishes he could wrap him in his arms and protect him from every evil in the world. He'd even settle for a simple chance to run a soothing hand through his curls.

Just a moment to remind Michael that he is loved.

His feet are moving forward, following his soul's desire to reconnect with its other half.

Michael appears to be drawn on the same wavelength because he's moving towards Alex as well, his scarred hand reaching out for Alex.

Alex and Michael are only a few steps away from each other when their respective soldiers pull them apart and restrain them
by way of a firm grip and the mouth of an automatic against their backs.

"Now that the theatrics are done with, let's get down to business." Jesse states, his tone radiating eyeroll vibes.

Jesse signals the soldier restraining Alex and soon Alex is being shuffled forward towards Michael.

Alex briefly closes his eyes, mentally bracing himself for what he is about to do.

"Alex, what the hell is going on?" Michael questions, his blood boiling at the way the soldier behind Alex noticeably digs the firearm deeper into Alex's back.

Opening his eyes, Alex meets Michael's across the short but oceans away distance between them.

"You're being released back to your life. No more testing, no more imprisonment and
no more torture" he throws the last bit towards his father, reminding him of what Project Sheppard truly does.

Michael's eyes scrunch up in confusion as silence passes between them.

It's like Alex is speaking an entirely new language, one that Michael hasn't a hope in hell of finding a translator for.

There's no way that Jesse Manes would just release him, not without a multitude of backdoor intent.

Then there's Alex's presence.

Looking over Alex's shoulder Michael once again addresses Jesse.

"We had a deal." He repeats, his eyes drilling into the older man's with little effect.

Jesse's lips twitch, "deals are made to be altered. Especially when a better one
comes along." He looks pointedly at Alex's back.

Drawing his gaze away from Jesse, Michael meets Alex's eyes once more.

"What did you do, Alex?"

Alex fidgets with the sleeves of his shirt, his own eyes flitting from Michael's to the ground.

When silence reigns for a beat longer, Michael addresses him again.

"Alex."

With a heavy sigh, as if he taking upon Atlas' mantle, Alex raises his head.

"I'm keeping you safe." He states, hoping on a paper boat that Michael won't persist.

Michael's eyes harden and Alex knows he's entered a storm.

"At the expense of yourself?! What did you agree to? It had to have been some deal to make Sergeant Dickhead practically
salivate with it!"

In his rant, Michael tries to move forward but one of the soldiers holds him back, purposefully resting the mouth of his firearm against his side.

Alex bites his bottom lip, his will to keep forging ahead hanging by little more than a thread. Especially when he notices the soldier's firing hand twitching.

He meant what he told Michael, he's doing this to keep him safe. For all the lies he's about to spew at least he can hold onto that undeniable truth.

God knows he won't have much left after today.

"As of now, I'm being transferred to Thule
Air Base-"

Behind him Jesse chuckles, as if Alex had just cracked a joke. He guesses in a way he has, after all he is taking advantage of Michael's own punchline that he had overheard through the door.

"Satelite connection is weak so I won't be able to contact you for a while-"

"Alex..." Michael whispers, his voice catching in his throat, knowing the unspoken if ever.... hanging between them.

Alex forges ahead, knowing if he stops now, he'll never be able to complete the lie.

"I don't know how long my stationing there will be but if things go according to plan, I'll be there for the remainder of my service." He finshes, his lungs aching with the wish of inhaling those words back.

For a moment, Michael stands in shock, his brain struggling to make sense of the words being thrown at it.

There is one string of words though that translate perfectly. His heart drops to his feet at their meaning.

The remainder of Alex's service.

"You reenlisted." He states, his heart and mind warring with the fact that just days ago, Alex had announced his intentions to transfer to the base in Roswell.

Michael and Alex had both been relieved and thrilled when Alex's active duty term had come to an end. It had been a long six years of anxiety and well intentioned arguments but they had gotten through it.

Alex can see the heart break in Michael's eyes, battered by yet another blow to the future they had both been building together.

He desperately wants to take it all back.

Turn on Jesse and take out his soldiers to escape the facility with Michael.

Realistically though, with Michael powerless and Alex up against six armed guards and his father the chances of Michael being shot, or worse, killed were too high.

"I'd do anything to protect you, Guerin. Reenlisting doesn't even cover a sliver of the things I would do to keep you safe."

Michael sucks in his bottom lip and shakes his head, "no, no you don't get to to do this. This deal you've struck with him isn't happening." He states.

Jesse steps forward.

"That's not up to you. Now, as much as I'm enjoying these declarations, it's time to get moving." Jesse signals the soldiers and soon Michael, much to his resistance, is being dragged into the back of the van.

Alex doesn't need the not so gentle shove that the soldier behind him delivers. He freely climbs into the back of the van and situates himself beside Michael.

The van door slams shut behind the last soldier to enter and soon the van is taking off with Jesse at the wheel.

Alex can practically feel Michael's mind whirring, steam almost visible from the gears working over time.

"We swore no more lies." Michael states, his voice hollow. As if the emotions that usually take the reins have been evicted.

Alex sighs, remembering all too clearly the reason behind that promise. His heart cracking at the way he's been breaking that oath even before Michael's abduction.

No matter how many times he's tried to convince himself that he's lying to protect Michael, he can't defeat the imposing truth.
Michael has been nothing but honest with him, especially after sharing the fact that he's from another planet. An alien.

Why can't Alex do the same? Come out and say that he's--

"Just tell me truth." Michael pleads, his hand finding its way to Alex's arm.

"The truth wouldn't make a difference." He states, his own hand traveling up to take Michaels, their fingers interlocking as they rest their hands atop their touching thighs.

Michael squeezes his hand, his body maneuvering to face Alex's while continuing to hold hands.

"Whatever it is, we can fight it together. Wasn't too long ago that someone told me we are stronger together, so whatever plan you got going on, let me in on it."

Alex softly chuckles, a tear slipping unbidden down his cheek.

"Actually, I said we are stronger united." He corrects, meeting Michael's own teary gaze.

Michael shrugs, a small smirk briefly lighting his features, "semantics."

Alex finds himself genuinely laughing, momentarily displacing himself from the reality going on around them.

For a brief moment, Alex is merely sitting next to his boyfriend, holding hands and joking around.

They're not sitting in the back of a military van, surrounded by armed soldiers with his father at the wheel. Driving back to Roswell to release Michael and effectively enslave Alex to his father's command.

Their laughter teeters off and soon both men are brought back to the present.

"Please, Alex." Michael clutches Alex's cheek with his free hand, his thumb wiping away the tears that have joined the first.

A breath of anticipation builds between them. Michael praying Alex will let him in and Alex begging his walls to remain standing.
In the end Alex breaks first, but not in the way either expected.

Alex finds himself surging forward, his lips crashing against Michael's.

Michael moans into the kiss, his hand traveling from Alex's cheek to his hair. Alex finds his own hand disentangling from Michael's in order to grip the front of his shirt, pulling the other man deeper into the kiss.

Distantly, both can hear multiple voices ordering them to seperate. One of them faintly sounds like Jesse Manes but neither men could tell for sure. Too absorbed in the feel of finally being able to taste their love after weeks apart.

It isn't until one soldier yanks Michael's head back by the hair that the pair are jolted from their bliss.

Michael can't help the involuntary wince the treatment causes, panting from both the kisses and the sudden assault.

Alex can feel his chest rumbling, the deep growl traveling up his throat. He goes to lunge forward to rip the soldiers hand clean off.

Michael startles at the sound, never having heard his lover making that sound before. Sure, he had been the catalyst of breathy moans and groans in the bedroom, but never something so animalistic.

The soldier turns out to be in tune with Alex's intent. Before Alex can attack, the soldier tugs Michael further back and digs the mouth of his firearm under Michael's chin.

"Back against the wall." The soldier commands, his eyes hardened into steel.

Alex lingers, calculating whether he can separate Michael from the soldier in time.

Michael looks like he wants to say something; probably highly innapropriate and likely to lead to more pain, but the firearm digging into his chin prevents such provocations.

"Now!" The soldier adjusts his grip on his weapon, his finger edging closer to pulling the trigger.

Alex forces his body to comply, his movements glacial as he moves until his back hits the metal interior.

He can't however stop the growling. His instincts won't let him.

After witnessing Alex's compliance, the soldier holding Michael waits a tense few moments before shoving Michael shoulder first into the wall. His firearm automatically aiming towards Alex when he lets out a particularly threatening growl and even a hint of teeth.

The soldier, while maintaining his aim on Alex, shuffles back to the other side of the van beside the other soldiers.

Once the distance between Michael and the firearm are sufficient, Alex grabs hold of Michael and drags him onto his lap. His arms encircling the slightly larger man.

"Alex?" Michael whispers, unsure how present the Alex he knows currently is. He's dealt with a clingy Alex who's had a little too much and of course Military Alex. But he has never encountered what he can only label as animal Alex.

He actually finds a brief mindset to be surprised he's not describing Alex in bed.

Michael can feel Alex's chest rumbling through their layers of clothes. It's a stuttering rythm, much like a stalled car.

Alex dips his head into the crook of Michael's scent, his warring counterpart slowly calming at Michael's rainstorm and rusty smell. The two scents together shouldn't be so addictive but it's a vice Alex willingly indulges in.

He can feel his human instincts minutely
take back over as his animalistic side retreats back into his mind.

His growling trembles to a close and Alex's hold on Michael loosens enough for Michael to turn.

Alex hesitantly lifts his head and meets Michael's understandably confused gaze.

"Are you okay?" Alex asks, his hand reaching out to caress Michael's chin, gently tilting it around to inspect for any damage.

Michael grabs his wrist, his fingers massaging Alex's pulse point.

"Not my first rodeo, Private." He jokes, defaulting to his usual state. A smart ass cowboy with the IQ of a genius.

"Guerrin" he implores, needing the truth and not Michael's usual wit.

"I'm fine, scouts honor." Michael promises, pecking him on the cheek.

Alex can feel his body and mind slowly calming down, the adrenaline seeping out of him with each breath.

At least it was, until Michael spoke.

"But you know what would make me feel even better?"

"Michael--"

"What would really put me at ease is you coming home with me."

Alex can faintly hear the crack in Michael's voice, no doubt from the tears he's holding back.

Alex can't help reaching out and cradling Michael's left cheek, his threading through Michael's greasy and limp but still beautiful curls.

Michaels eyes slip shut, his body slightly slumping in relief and exhaustion. Alex always could stop his world with a single motion.

The van slowly comes to a park, evidently reaching their destination.

Jesse gets out of the van and the soldiers follow, abruptly slamming sunshine into

Alex and Michael's unprepared irises.

Before either can even think to protest, Michael and Alex are both yanked out of the van and held in place in front of a waiting Jesse Manes.

When their eyes have finally adjusted, they recognize the airstream situated behind Manes as well as the virtually deserted lot of Sanders' garage.

"Rogers, Parker, please escort Mr. Guerrin into his home." Said soldiers each grab hold of Michael and begin hauling Michael towards the airstream.

Alex's heart jack rabbits as Michael gets further and further away from him. The other man twisting and cursing in a vain attempt to escape.

Alex finds himself shouting out the first two words that his scrambled brain can muster. It hurts even worse when he directs his pleas towards his father.

"Wait, please. Please, wait." He thought he had already reached a new low, but pleading with his father for the second time in one day felt like a permanent strike on his soul.

Alex can feel the triumphant smile Jesse is sporting, practically vibrating with the level of control he's managed to hold over Alex in such a short amount of time.

It's unsurprising that it would only take dangling Michael's life over Alex's head to do it.

"Turn him around." Jesse orders, watching Alex visibly exhale in relief when his men turn the Alien around.

Before the soldiers guarding him can restrain him, Alex hurries forward and wraps his arms around Michael.

Behind him, Alex can hear the soldiers cocking their firearms as the sand and gravel move beneath their boots.

"At ease, men."

Alex buries his face into the crook of Michael's neck, his body momentarily calming at the feel of Michael's arms wrapping around Alex's waist.

Alex kisses the side of Michael's neck, his mouth aching to worship this man even more. To make a copy of the permanent imprint he has of the feel and taste of Michael's body.

Would he have the time, he'd whisper all the
soppy things he should have said before.

You're beautiful.

You're my entire world.

I love you.

Instead, his lips form an entirely different thread of thought.

Tilting his chin up, Alex whispers into Michaels ear, "find Greg."

Michael shivers at the fan of breath against his ear, his skin on fire from Alex's chaste kiss.

He's so enraptured by the closeness of Alex that he almost misses what he whispers.

His eyebrows draw down in confusion as he absorbs Alex's words.

Find Greg.

The opportunity to ask why is never given for Michael due to Alex abruptly being pulled back into the deadlock hold of two soldiers.

Michael is then practically carried the rest
of the way to the airstream and unceremoniously dumped inside, the door slamming shut in front of him. He quickly jumps up from the floor and attempts to open the door only to find it locked.

His eyes frantically roam over his surroundings, looking for some kind of escape route. Soon, he stops on the skylight.

Alex unconsciously tugs at the hold the soldiers have on him, needing to check on Michael. Their hold remains steadfast.

He doesn't bother wiping the glare he aims towards his father as the man approaches him.

"A deals a deal, son."

Jesse comes to a stop in front of Alex, his smug grin more than worthy of the fist Alex would love to introduce it to.

"Don't call me son." Alex grits out, his eyes hardening further the closer Jesse gets to
him.

The older man chuckles, "I could call you Rover and you'd damn well better respond. As long as you want Michael to survive, you are to do as I say. That includes showing me the respect my rank deserves."

Alex can't help but smile, "that'll be easy, considering I outrank you."

It was a fact his father always ignored, the reality that Alex had a much more impressive military career than Jesse. Multiple tours in Iraq and dozens of commendments for his computer intelligence work.

Alex likes to think Jesse cant handle the fact that his gay, disobeying son could ever be better at such a "masculine" career than him.

The spark of rage ignited behind Jesse's eyes at Alex's retort. Within one second and the next, Alex found himself jerking back into the bodies of the soldiers behind him. His mouth steadily filling with blood and his lip throbbing in pain from the closed handed fist. He spits the blood to the side, purposefully hitting the nearest soldiers' boot.

He mentally smiles at the curse his actions evoke from said soldier.

Jesse pulls Alex forward, his chest mere centimeters from Alex's own.

"I hope you got your fill of retorts because that was your last one. Do it again and Michael is right back on the table."
Alex swallows, the fading bite of iron slicing down his throat.

He opens his mouth to respond but is stopped by the a loud bang, followed by a familiar voice calling his name.

Looking over Jesse's shoulder, Alex makes eye contact with Michael standing halfway out of the skylight in his airstream.

Alex drinks in the sight of him, mezmorized by the way the sun highlights each individual golden and caramel strand. The pull is so strong that Alex finds himself being held back after apparently trying to step forward.

He watches as Michael begins to pull himself out of the skylight. He also watches out of the corner of his eye as the soldiers surrounding him ready three weapons.

"Guerrin, stop!"

Michael pauses, his arms straining in an awkward half lift position and eyes wide. It would have been funny under different circumstances.

The three words that want to bubble from his mouth are stuck in his throat. Stuck on a promise fueled by teenage angst. A promise that those three words could never be a goodbye.
Instead all Alex can give Michael is a soft smile, knowing his love for the other man will come through.

Michael swallows, his throat feeling like it's collapsing. He can only watch as Alex is led back into the van, no resistance evident from the guards' ease of pushing him to sit against the van's interior.

The door slams on Alex's soft smile, the corners drooping in mourning for a future they'll likely never get.

"Lets head back, men." Jesse turns his back on Michael as he heads for the driver's side of the van.

Michael's breaths come out in pants as he pulls himself up through the skylight and stands up on the roof.

He can feel his telekinesis bubbling beneath his finger tips, the flip inside his head snapping and crackling as the serum slowly withdraws from his system.

Tears fall as he fails to prevent the doors of the van from closing. His heart feeling like it's being crushed within his chest as he watches the van drive off.

Michael doesn't fight gravity as his body drops, his knees landing with a muted flash of pain against the roof.

"Alex" he whimpers, the words trailing off into the emptiness threatening to engulf him.

Chapter Text

Alex barely feels the sting as the needle leaves his skin.

The lab technician silently wipes away the drop of blood that wells up and caps the sample. The label slapped on the side identifying the contents as belonging to subject 08625.

He should feel apprehension and anger about the plans they have for his DNA. Instead, all he can focus on is his identity being degraded to little more than a number.

After 18 years of abuse from his homophobic, deranged father and over 6 years of service in the USAF, he's now little more than a pin code to a phone.

Was there truly 8624 lives that came before him? Lives that had been subjected to torture and neglect in the pursuit of some demented plan for galactic security?

Jesse Manes stepped up to Alex and simply stared at him, his expression somewhere between glee and disappointment, a feat that the older Manes man had mastered over the years.

To anyone else, Jesse’s unblinking piercing stare would have quickly caused the feeling of a downpour of ants traveling down their bodies, their fight or flight instincts screaming at them to run and hide from the clear threat the older man is.

However, having grown up with that stare for most of his life, whether during a simple conversation such as plans for the day (not that his dad ever asked or cared) or yet another lesson in what being a real Manes Man meant, he was more or less inoculated to the imposing look.

“Such potential, wasted on the likes of you.” he sighs, as if letting out years of disappointment about what Alex could have been, i.e. a straight, no-nonsense military man.

Jesse orders his men to unstrap Alex from the examination table. The moment the unforgiving metal straps are released from pinning his body, all the blood that had been crushed in place rushed back to the rest of his body. Alex would have wept with relief at the relieving yet painful wave of pins and needles but the numbness of the mournful look Michael had given him was all encompassing.

“Take him back to his room, I’ll meet you there shortly.” Jesse instructs, his back turning on them as the older man goes to converse with the scientist that had drawn the blood from Alex.

Alex offers up no resistance as the soldiers lead him from the room to the cell that was to be his home for the foreseeable future.

~M+A~

Michael took another swig of acetone as he tore up yet another flawed outline of the Caulfield Prison Base. How was he supposed to come up with a plan to rescue Alex if he couldn’t even draw the layout of a fucking parking lot?

The sudden grating screech of the hatch opening briefly tears Michael away from his downward spiral, his self-deprecating thoughts doing their best to pierce his retreating flesh. He manages to escape long enough to recognize the voices of his arguing siblings. 

“...deputy bullshit. He’s our brother!”

Isobel’s high heels click against the steel bars as she descends the ladder, followed shortly by the thunking of Max’s worn work boots. 

Once the pair are properly on the ground, Michael goes back to his drafting, his hand itching to finish off the nearly empty bottle of acetone beside him. 

Isobel huffs at something Max whispers at her as she makes her way towards Michael, no doubt annoyed at Max for even suggesting to go easy on their brother. 

“‘I’m back.’ Very eloquent Michael, completely puts us at ease after you’ve been missing for over three weeks!” She seethes, her classic sardonic smile not nearly strong enough to cloud the fear she’s still battling with. 

“Is-”

Isobel waves Max off, coming to a stand in front of Michael’s worktable. 

“What was it this time, Michael? A tequila orgy? Cock fighting?” Michael knows she doesn’t mean it, that sarcasm is one of Isobel’s many shields but right now he’d rather she took her worry and shoved it where the sun didn't shine. 

Isobel continues to berate him, her words gaining layer upon layer of sarcasm all the while Max does his best to calm her down, beseeching her to think before the next round of words leaves her gloss painted lips. 

Michael lets her continue, using her voice as background noise as he rips up another flawed layout and starts again. 

It isn’t until she mentions Alex that Michael finally snaps.  

“I always thought Alex was the gifted one in the desertion department but you’re really giving him a run for his money.” 

The work table flies across the room, barely missing colliding into Isobel and Max as the furniture splinters against the wall behind them as metal and glass clang and shatter onto the floor and papers flutter in the air like birds down to the ground. 

The only sound in the room for the next several moments is the rolling of pencils coming to a stop in various places around the room. 

A cacophony of words thrash inside the tunnel of his throat. Accusations, curses and of course wit so dry it would outdo a desert. But it was as if his earlier psychic outburst had taken the last bit of his strength. Instead, Michael could only collapse into the musty, decades old office chair behind him. The rusted wheels squeak from the unexpected force.  

Max, sensing it was safe to approach his brother now, stepped around the debris to stand beside him. “Michael, we were worried about you and we just want to know what happened.” 

Michael does his damndest not to look into Max’s puppy dog eyes, the soulfulness was like looking into a fluffy cloud of puppies and other cutesy crap. He knew that even a glance would have him spilling everything and there was a spikey pus of venom in his gut that didn’t want his siblings’ help. 

For so long the only person he could count on was himself and in the long run, it had done him well. Relying on others could only lead to harm, he’d learn that the hard way when after only a few months of bonding with Isobel and Max at the orphanage, the twins were abruptly adopted by the Evans family. Leaving him behind to eventually be fostered out to a heroin addict whose name he still bore. 

Even after all these years, he still harbors resentment and even a little mistrust towards the pair. 

What was to stop them from eventually leaving him again? Maybe even for good this time? After all, they came from a well-respected, educated and even influential family. They had roots here. Michael on the other hand, up until Alex, really only had his job and, to an extent, Sanders to keep him in place. 

Alex changed everything. 

The other man made him feel like maybe this planet wasn’t so worthless, after all it was Alex’s home. 

But in letting the other man into his life, he had also inevitably opened himself up to danger. That being the danger of relying once again on someone only to have that person be ripped away from him.   

It’s not like Alex and him haven’t gone their separate ways before, the military had made sure of that. They’d had their lovers quarrels and even broken up. This was however the first time that their parting had not been either's choice. He didn’t know what had occurred between Alex and Jesse Manes concerning Michael’s release but he knew Alex’s decision to exchange himself for Michael had been forced. 

He couldn’t believe anything else. 

“Michael.” He couldn't help the jump at Max’s feather-like touch, his thoughts having a vice-like hold on his awareness. 

Whether it was his police training or predator-prey instinct, Max pulled his hand away and slowly backed away from Michael, keeping his movements slow and deliberate as he put some space between them. 

Michael runs a hand through his still greasy hair, the limp curls falling back down in a frizzy clump against his head. 

“Caulfield.” 

He can hear Isobel nearly choke on her next breath, followed by Max’s shallow inhale. 

No further clarification is needed. They are all too aware of the horrors that Caulfield hides behind its government clearance. 

Max doesn’t even try to stop Isobel as their sister rushes to Michael’s side and envelops him in a hug, her manicured fingernails digging into the sides of his nearly threadbare shirt. No doubt lost in the thoughts of what if….

Isobel may as well have been hugging a rock with all the response she receives from Michael in turn. 

It took more willpower than Michael believed he possessed to not push Isobel away, believing himself unworthy of the comfort her warm embrace and comforting scent promised. He did however have the strength to lean away from her touch, his gaze striking off of Max and onto a particularly interesting crack that was snaking up the wall. 

He really needs to patch that up at some point. 

“How did you escape” Isobel asks, her voice still catching even though she was trying her hardest to compose herself. 

Michael remained silent, his eyes traveling back to the various outlines that he had been working on for hours. 

Instead of answering, Michael steps back to his desk and picks up the nearest pencil. He needs to keep working, find a way to rescue Alex. 

“I didn’t.” He pulled forward another sheet of paper and resumes his earlier sketching, his hand focused on sketching out the image he could see clearly in his mind’s eye. 

Isobel, not noticing or uncaring of the clear “don’t touch me” vibes Michael was giving off, stepped forward and placed her hand on Michael’s shoulders. 

“Help us understand, Michael. Did you have help? Because there’s no way they just let you go!” Isobel knew she wasn’t helping the situation, especially judging by the flinch she could feel at her touch. But they needed to know how to prepare for whatever was coming their way. 

Michael continued to sketch, his brow furrowed as he concentrated on transferring thought to paper. 

Max silently watches Michael carefully etch out another line, his brother’s movements precise and slow, as if he was drawing his life’s work. He thought back to the reaction Michael had had to Isobel’s remark on Alex. On how just before the room had undergone a makeover, the pain he had seen simmering in Michael’s eyes. 

There was also the fact that Max hadn’t seen Alex around town lately, not even at The Pony with Maria. Max could have put Alex’s absence down to the other man searching for Michael, after all the two were going out again. 

“Michael-” Isobel tries, undoubtedly doing her best to put aside the anxieties and fears going through her mind in an attempt to comfort their brother. 

Her attempt is drowned out by the sudden snapping of the pencil, the sudden shatter sounding like a gunshot in the echoing walls of the bunker. Michael curses and immediately picks up the nearest writing tool, a pen that looks as if it is a woodpecker's favorite toy. 

Max, the more emotionally stable of the trio, places his hand over Michael’s, effectively stopping him from continuing to lose himself in his outline. 

“What happened?” 

Michael visibly swallows and drops the mutilated pen, taking in shallow breaths as if struggling to stay above the waves. 

“Alex made a deal with Jesse.” he gritted out, the words feeling like spiked landmines in his throat. 

Max can practically sense Isobel preparing to speak, no doubt about to let her anxieties make the situation ten times worse. He knows that their sister cares deeply about all of them, but being tactile with words hasn’t always been her strong suit. 

He can tell that Michael is struggling to put his thoughts to words, especially considering the subject. Max can practically feel the guilt and anger radiating from his brother, Michael’s body acting more as an emotional vessel than a living, functioning being. 

“He traded himself to save you.” Max stated, knowing it would have hurt more for Michael to have confirmed it himself. Max made sure to emphasize save though because that is exactly what Alex did. 

Even though Max has cursed Alex out on the occasions he was left to pick up the drunken pieces of Michael after yet another breakup, Max never once thought that Alex didn’t love Michael. Alex and him may not spend all that much time together, outside of double dates with Liz, but the love he could see in Alex’s eyes whenever he gazed at Michael was unmistakable.

Max knew for a fact that whatever Alex had done to get his brother home, it was done out of love. A need even, to make sure that Michael made it home to his family, alive.

Michael shakes his head, “if he saved me, then why do I still feel trapped?”

Max steps back as Michael rises from his chair and puts some distance between them, Isobel hovers beside Max. Wisely taking note and giving Michael some space.

It is only when a noticeable keening sound comes from Michael that Max finally moves forward, stepping into his brother’s path, placing a comforting hand on Michael’s shoulder.

Michael quickly composes himself and straightens his posture. Doing his best to summon a facade of being in control, ready and able to put together a plan to save his boyfriend. 

“I’m going to get him back.” he stated, any other outcome was unacceptable, and if Jesse Manes happened to get in the way well, he was more than prepared to finally put the older man in the ground. 

It was way past time. 

Sensing where his brother’s thoughts were going, Max moves his hand down to gently grip Michael’s wrist, providing a point of focus for Michael. 

“We’ll get him back. We owe him that much for getting you home.” Max corrects, letting it be known that he forbade Michael from going off on his own, especially in the emotional state he was currently in. 

He could only imagine what Michael was going through, Max knew if Liz was being held by a top secret military project his mind would only be on storming the gates. Not even considering the contingencies that would need to be thought out. Such as an escape plan and what to do when things inevitably went wrong. 

Max can hear the clacking of Isobel’s high heels as she approaches, her warmth quickly joining their own as she does her best to wrap her arms around the pair. Silently giving her acknowledgement of the plan.

As much as Isobel surely wants to question Michael about the whole situation, especially about how much Alex knows about Michael’s true heritage, she knows that now isn’t the time.

Michael pulls away first, Max and Isobel quickly allowing him the room to move back to his desk, a new gleam of purpose in his movements.

“I’ve been trying to outline the parts of Caulfield that I can remember but the furthest I’ve gotten is a few lines…and a headache.” He mutters the last few lines.

No one mentions the two empty bottles of acetone scattered at the feet of the desk chair.

“What can we do to help?” Max asks, walking back to the front of the desk, he can hear Isobel following beside him.

Michael looks up from his nearly wrecked desk and glances at both of his siblings’ faces before stopping at Isobel.

“My mind is all over the place, but maybe I could get a clearer image if someone else was at the wheel.”

Isobel’s mouth parts in shock, not at all expecting the request. For as long as they have been in each other’s lives, Michael has never allowed Isobel to enter his mind, not even when they had first discovered their powers and would practice them with each other.

She has been in Max’s mind more times than is probably healthy. However, it could be argued that the experience has brought them closer together, giving them the ability to connect with each other as no other pair of siblings can.

It’s unfortunate though that she is finally given permission to do so under such circumstances.

“Just tell me when.” She states, a warmth blooming in her heart at the grateful smile from Michael her words bring.

Michael sits down at his desk chair and pulls open another drawer, producing two more bottles of acetone. He sets them down on the desk, shooting Isobel a pointed look.

Taking the hint for what it was, Isobel digs into her coat pocket and digs out a hair tie before shedding the coat and wordlessly handing the garment to Max.

She sweeps her hair into a ponytail and walks around to take a seat on the desk in front of Michael’s chair.

“Close your eyes, and try to relax.” Isobel coaches, as she reaches out and places manicured hands on either side of Michael’s face.

Michael does as she requests and closes his eyes with Isobel quickly following suit.

Isobel inhales sharply as she finally enters her brother’s mind for the first time.

~M+A~

Jesse approaches his son’s cell, his boots scuffing across the concrete floors as he stops in front of the guarded cell. In his arms he carries a medium sized metal box, no discernable features on the surface give any hint as to what lays inside.

He doesn’t stop the smile that crawls across his face at the sight of his youngest kneeling on the cell floor, his face downturned and hands resting limply behind his back.

The guards make room for him to enter the cell, with one turning and stepping to the side of the room as Jesse stops in front of Alex.

Unsurprisingly Alex doesn’t respond to Jesse’s arrival.

“Now, as much as I want to believe you’ll be a good boy, we both know the truth. That’s why I figured some extra security was in order to dissuade any thoughts of disobedience.” Jesse turns and hands the guard in the room the box to hold as he opens the lid to reach inside.

When Jesse turns around in his hands is what could only be described as a collar. It’s body consists of metallic rectangles that are fused together in a ring shape that features the printed numbers 08625. It’s most notable feature however is the small computer screen situated on the right side of the collar.

Jesse kneels in front of Alex and forces his head up, exposing his throat.

Alex’s eyes remain impassive, barely glancing at Jesse before looking over the older man’s shoulder.

Jesse chuckles as he wraps the collar around Alex’s neck, the ends hissing as they fuse together, locking in place the collar in place.

Rising from the floor, Jesse looks down at his watch.

“You should feel honored, Alex. You’ve been chosen to test a piece of the latest military technology. Try not to bite your tongue.” He adds as a seeming afterthought.

Alex is only offered a moment to question what he could possibly mean before Jesse is pressing a button on his watch that causes volts of electricity to surge through his body. Its starting point unsurprisingly being that of the collar.

His vision whites out as his body collapses to the ground, contorting as spasms ricochet throughout him.

Jesse watches his son convulse on the ground for a few more moments before pressing the same button again, putting an end to the demonstration.

Alex’s body continues to twitch as he lays on the ground, the aftershocks still running rampant within his system. His chest heaving with in tandem with the beating of his heart. The sensation of needles pulsing through his veins makes him want to itch and escape his skin all at the same time.  

Dropping his arm, Jesse crouches down in front of Alex, grabbing hold of his head and once again forcing Alex to look at him through hazy, unfocused eyes.

“I must say I’m impressed, the last one to test this out lost consciousness at the first shock.” He gives Alex’s cheek a condescending pat before rising from the ground.

Alex’s attempts to lift himself from the ground go without success, his limbs refusing to cooperate with him.

Jesse stares down at his son, his gaze impassable as he watches his son struggle to even turn his body on its side. His brow and exposed skin drenched in sweat and trembling from the shock beneath the harsh fluorescent lights.

Alex looks up at his father, the blank stare now replaced with a look of pure contempt.

The look only causes Jesse’s smirk to widen.

“Well as much as I love this father-son time, I do believe it’s time you got some rest. Big day tomorrow.”

With one last glance at Alex, Jesse turns and exits the cell, the guards following in line behind him. As he walks further away from the cell, he presses another button on his watch.

Alex tries to force his body into a sitting position, intent on moving into a position that allows him to face the doorway with his back to the wall.

He only gets to the point of finally placing his hands in a position to pull himself forward when a hissing sounds from the collar followed by a puncturing pain erupting on both sides of his neck, centering on his carotid arteries.

White noise fills his ears and vision as he falls back to the ground, his eyes quickly falling shut as he is consumed by the darkness.

Inspiration for Alex's Collar. I do not own the rights to this image. 

Chapter Text

After spending hours going over the outlines Michael had drawn up of the Caulfield base, it was disheartening to come to the conclusion that even with the blueprints, they were still nowhere near ready to rescue Alex.

At Least not in a way that wouldn’t result in exposure and countless deaths and injuries.

Michael was more than ready to make that sacrifice if it meant having Alex back where he belonged and away from his psychotic father. However, it was not a sentiment shared by his siblings.

“We have to be smart about this, Michael. This is a top secret military base. We’re looking at more than just a few bottom of the barrel security guards.” Max insists, his eyes following his brother’s anxious pacing.

Michael continues to pace, his dull nails digging crescents into the palms of his hands as he takes another turn.

“I’m well aware, Max.” Michael retorts, not missing a stride with his pacing.

Max decides to take another route, seeing that his brother is digging himself into an even deeper hole of anxiety and guilt. Standing from his position on the desk, he approaches Michael, reaching out to stop the other man with a gentle grasp of his arm. At first it seems like Michael is going to yank his arm free but eventually he gives in and stays still.

“I can only imagine what you’re going through, Mikey.”

Michael scoffs, the sound scraping like sandpaper on a windshield.

“Let’s just take a minute and think about strategies to get Alex back that don’t involve a one alien army.” Michael shakes his head as if he’s building up for an argument but Max can see the weight pulling his brother’s resistance down.

Max can feel and see Michael, whether unconsciously or consciously is of little importance, lean into his touch.

“What about three aliens?” Michael questions, the faintest whisper of his usual humor trying to push past the cavernous mounds of anxiety, guilt and anguish that threaten to drown him.

Max softly chuckles, using his thumb connected to Michael’s elbow to rub soothingly against the exposed skin.
The three siblings allow the silence to coast across the room, each giving both themselves some time to try and come up with a plan that would result in getting Alex back into Michael’s arms.

“Do you think Liz could find a way to get a job in their lab? Maybe she’d be able to create a distraction for us to get in and safely get Alex out?” Iz suggested, not thrilled at the prospect of involving Max’s pseudo girlfriend or whatever she was to him. She was still angry that the scientist knew their secret and still harbored a fear that one day the other woman would betray them.

Max turns to his sister, a cold look on his face. “No, no way is Liz getting involved in this. She’s already putting herself in danger just by knowing about us. I’m not going to risk Manes using her against us as well.”

Iz shakes her head, her face pinched in annoyance. “She wouldn’t be in danger if someone hadn’t brought her back to life.”

“I couldn’t let her die!” Max roars, stepping into Iz’s space.

Having been on the receiving end of more than a few of Max’s meltdowns, Iz didn’t even flinch as she stared up into her twin’s eyes.

“Isn’t Alex one of her best friends? Don’t you think she’d want to help save the man she practically sees as a brother?” She questions, knowing fully well that the other woman deeply cared about Alex.

Before Max can offer a retort, he’s interrupted by Michael who has suddenly stopped his pacing, his expression similar to one someone might have if they had suddenly been struck by a long lost memory.

At the mention of brother, Michael is suddenly transported back to his last ill fated moments with Alex. He can almost feel the phantom heat of air against his ear as Alex’s final words to him echo in his mind.

“Find Greg.”

Before the words had seemed like background noise, buzzing in his ear as his mind desperately tried to rationalize the events that were occurring.

Of all of Alex’s siblings, hell his family to an extent, Greg was the only member that Michael could honestly say gave a damn about Alex. Sure, the oldest Manes brother mainly kept to himself for the most part out on the Reservation, acting as an elementary teacher to the Reservation kids after retiring from the military. But, he was also the only sibling to regularly check in with Alex whenever Alex was back from deployment and continued to do so even when Alex was stationed in Roswell permanently.

Long story short, Greg Manes loves his youngest brother and would likely do anything to save him from their abusive father.

Michael tuned back into his siblings’ arguing long enough to abruptly cut off Isobel who was working herself up to yet another scathing retort.

“Find Greg.”

Isobel and Max turn confused eyes on Michael, Isobel’s jaw noticeably clicking as she clamps it shut.

“Excuse me?” Isobel asks, stepping away from Max and approaching Michael. Max not too far behind her.

“Find Greg. That’s the last thing Alex said to me.”

Isobel exchanges a confused look with Max, neither having heard the name before and even more confused about how this Greg person would be able to help.

Recognizing the confusion on his siblings’ faces, Michael elaborates, “Greg is Alex’s oldest brother. He’s also the only one of Alex’s siblings that gives a damn about him.” granted Michael hasn’t seen the older man for a few years now but he knows that Alex still keeps in touch with him, especially after Alex was stationed in Roswell.

“That’s all well and good but how exactly can Greg help?” Isobel questions. She knows from the light shoulder bump from Max that she should have kept silent, but her filter hasn’t exactly been well maintained.

Ignoring Isobel’s remark, for the most part, Michael plows ahead.

“He just so happens to be ex-military and still likely has a few connections that could help us get inside Caulfield.”

“Great, more military.” Isobel mutters, ignoring the glare that Max shoots her.

This time Michael is unable to ignore the remark, “And sending in Liz, a scientist, is any better?”

“At least she’s a known variable.” Isobel fights back, completely shedding her earlier stance of following Max’s lead.

Max shoots Is a dark look, his jaw clenching so tight it’s in danger of snapping.
Michael grits his teeth, his hands tightening into fists by his sides as he shakes his head. “A variable that’s only method of defense is a knee to the groin and a sharp tongue. We need someone who knows how these military guys think, who has actual connections and training to do this. Believe me, as much as I would love to send in our friendly neighborhood scientist, it’s not going to happen.”

With the note of finality in the air, Michael walks back to his desk and picks up his phone. His fingers automatically enter in the combination before scrolling through his contact list. Praying that at some point in time he had actually put in the other man’s number during one of the few times Greg and him had actually interacted in person.

He curses when he fails to see the man’s contact information.

Isobel and Max look at him expectantly, Isobel’s look a bit more frosty then Max’s but that was neither here nor there.

Michael pockets his phone, “well boys and girls, looks like we’re going on a field trip.”

Checking his pockets for his keys, Michael walks past his confused siblings and heads for the ladder to take him out of the bunker.

“Where exactly are we going?” Isobel questions, her high heels digging into the ground as she waits for an answer. Meanwhile, Max wordlessly stands vigil beside her, also a bit wary about heading into the unknown.

“The Reservation.” not waiting for a response, Michael begins his ascent up the ladder.

Exchanging one last uncertain look, Isobel and Max follow their brother’s lead.

~Potentially NSFW Scene~

Alex watched the way the sun sashayed through Michael’s hair. The curls like rivers of chocolate and caramel. Michael’s exposed chest rises peacefully with the lull of gentle slumber, the harshness and brutality of the waking world unable to touch him.

Unable to help himself, Alex runs his feather lite fingers through Michael’s dusky spattering of chest hair. Michael hums in his sleep, his eyes roving beneath the lids as his waking mind battles with the dream world. If he weren’t so selfish, Alex would have quit his ministrations and allowed Michael to drift back to sleep. However, he knew that today was the last day of his leave and Alex planned on committing the entire day to memorizing every part of Michael’s body, voice and laugh.

Highly aware of Michael’s sensitive nipples, Alex allowed his fingers to travel upward and graze over the buds. The darkened areolas perk up almost immediately, eliciting a keening moan that brings a grin of satisfaction to Alex’s still slightly swollen lips.
Alex’s fingers continue to travel further south, his touch feather lite as he travels up and down the defined abs, the skin still glistening and a bit tacky from sweat and other bodily fluids.

It was when Alex’s finger tip skimmed the define slope of Michael’s hipbone that Michael’s raspy voice broke the stillness of the air.

“I can get you some fingerpaint out if you like?” Michael’s nearest hand wraps around Alex’s wrist, his thumb and index finger rubbing over Alex’s inner wrist.

Alex bends down to lay a wet kiss near Michael’s belly button.

“I think I have enough organic material right in front of me.” Alex responds.

A breath of silence passes before Michael and Alex are unable to contain their pearls of laughter any longer. Michael’s stomach and chest vibrate beneath Alex’s touch.

“Oh, that-that was so bad, Manes.” Michael continues to maintain his hold on Alex’s wrist, his fingers continuing to massage Alex’s pulse point. Soothing the teasing words that from anyone else would have been insulting.

Alex chuckles and playfully slaps Michael’s hair dusted chest, eliciting a barely noticeable grunt from Michael.

“I was trying to keep it going. Not my fault your cue was finger painting of all things.” Alex teases back, his soft words belying any crossness.

Michael lets out a soft chuckle as he rights himself into leaning against the small headboard of his trailer’s pull out bed. His hand releases Alex’s wrist.

“In my defense, I’m still a bit cotton headed from all the fun we had last night. My mind obviously wasn’t ready to compute your early morning wandering fingers.”

Alex smiles and climbs onto Michael’s lap, his legs straddling the bulkier man’s legs as he runs a hand down Michael’s chest, his fingertips continuing to traverse all the way down to the curls of dark blond pubic hair.

There is no chance of masking the moan of want Michael lets out at the contact, so close yet so far from the desired touch.

“And how about now?” Alex cajoles, his hips slowly moving back and forth, his own excited cock leaking across Michael’s belly.

Instead of answering, Michael reaches out and pulls Alex’s head down for a searing kiss, their lips quickly turning from loose smiles to slackened moans.

~End of Potentially NSFW Scene~

Alex is awoken from his comforting revisit of one of his leaves with Michael by electrical waves surfing through his laxed body. His limbs try to escape his body in painful leaps as he grits his teeth, unable to stop most of the grunts of pain that the zapping causes. He’s sure he’s not imagining the coppery taste that slides into the back of his throat.

His vision is encapsulated in darkness as his eyes snap close instinctively, as if the organs are terrified of being struck by the pain igniting the rest of Alex’s nerves on fire. He also doesn’t notice the lengthening of his canines or the sharpening of his nails.

In the midst of his thrashing, Alex misses his father’s soldiers entering the cell, surrounding his spasming form. The soldiers’ firearms aimed directly at him. Behind them, Jesse Manes enters the cell, his boots scuffing against the cold concrete floor as he walks around the soldiers to gaze upon his son, his front to the opening of the cell.

Jesse continues to watch Alex convulse, his uncaring eyes cataloging the way Alex’s limbs jerk and flap after each shock of electricity. His true point of focus however is the lit up numbers flashing along the collar secured around Alex’s neck. 195 BPM flashes insistently across one of the screens along with a droning alert sound pointing out the impending danger the wearer, Alex, is in.

He lets the BPM travel up to 197 before pressing a button on the controller around his wrist. Almost instantly, the electrical pulses stop being pumped into Alex’s body. Although, it takes a few minutes for Alex’s body to get the message. His limbs and body continue to spasm periodically as the remaining currents ride themselves out of his system. Blood trickles down his chin from where Alex had accidentally bitten into his lower lip.

Alex’s eyes remain painfully shut, his eyes and mouth pinched in pain as he tries to regain control over his own body. He can’t help the shame he feels at the warm tracks he can feel trailing down his cheeks. If there was any saving grace, it was that at least he had been able to prevent himself from losing control of his bladder.

Jesse lets another minute pass before addressing Alex.

“Good morning Alex, hope you slept well. We have quite the agenda for today.” if the Devil was a concierge, Jesse Manes would have been his star pupil.

All Alex can offer is a groan of pain, his strength still too weak to even attempt to open his eyes.

Jesse turns and addresses his soldiers, “I want him up and secured in Lab A by 0700.” The soldiers all nod in assent as Jesse exits the cell, not bothering to give Alex another glance.

The next highest standing officer in the cell directs the men to pick up Alex and carry him to Lab A.

No one pays any attention to the moans of pain that Alex subconsciously lets out as his body is manhandled between the three soldiers.

~

“You’re welcome Michael, no really it was no big deal.” Isobel remarks as they walk out of the Reservation’s lone school building.

Michael ignores his pseudo sister’s remarks as he makes his way back to his truck.

Apparently Greg and a few parent chaperones had taken his class on an overnight field trip to visit a science museum a few towns over. They were expected to return around 3pm the following day. And of course, the receptionist was initially “unable” to provide Greg’s contact information but would “happily” deliver a message to him on their behalf.

Michael had about jumped over the desk to deliver his own message when Isobel had stepped in and used her powers to get the receptionist to give them Greg’s cell phone number.

Max, of course, had laid into Isobel about using her powers so openly but was met with a stony remark about exploding lightbulbs and bottles of ketchup.

As he walked, Michael took out his phone and punched in Greg’s phone number.

The line rang for a few beats before going straight to voicemail. Michael growls in frustration but dutifully waits until the beep sounds to speak.

“Hey Greg, it’s Michael. Listen, I really need to talk to you about Alex. When you get this message please call me back, asap. Thanks.” He ends the call and leans against the hood of his truck, his head resting on the still warm covering.

From behind him, he can hear the soft thud of Max’s work boots moving towards him through the sand covered parking lot.

Max lets out a resolved breath, no doubt having come to some kind of decision in the few moments since they had exited the school.

“I think for now, we’ve done all we can. So, until we get a response from Greg I think we should go back to my place and get some rest. It’s far enough away from town that we shouldn’t be disturbed and we’ll be able to come up with our next plan after Greg gets back to us.” Max, ever the diligent leader, plucks the keys out of Michael’s limp grasp and gets into the driver’s side of the truck.

After only minor haggling from Isobel does Michael find himself seated beside Isobel, with Max turning over the engine and driving back to the other part of Roswell.
~

When Alex is fully back to himself he finds that nearly all of his nerves and limbs are stretched taught, screaming at him for even attempting a simple flex. Luckily for them however, Alex isn’t able to move more than half an inch due to the restraints keeping him in place.

He doesn’t need to open his eyes to know he’s back in a lab, stationary on a medical slab for Jesse only knows what purpose. No doubt a vile one.

Out of the corner of his hearing, Alex can hear one of the soldiers speaking, his voice hushed just enough that Alex’s still rattled senses can only pick out a few words. The most notable one being Manes, and Alex knows the soldier isn’t referring to him.

A moment later, Alex’s father enters the lab with a troop of scientists following behind him.

The older Manes doesn’t even acknowledge Alex as he talks to the nearest scientist to him. The scientist has short cropped blond hair, his pale skin impeccably clear and a pair of glasses that are so thin Alex has half a mind to think the man doesn’t even possess a real prescription.

“Take as much blood as you need for testing, I don’t want another moment wasted after this.” his father orders, the scientist nodding his head in understanding.

The scientist orders one of their staff members to get the supplies for extracting the blood. As this goes on, the scientist, a Mr. Victor Prentiss, steps up to Alex and examines the collar around his neck.

Prentiss jots something down on paper attached to his clipboard before backing up to allow another scientist to collect the blood samples.

“We’ll take another four vials, that should last us for at least the next month or so. We would take more but we don’t want to risk the specimen’s lethargy tainting the results of our next few tests.” Alex is unprepared for the sudden brightness that violates his vision as Prentiss shines a pen light into both of his irises.

Multicolored spots dance in front of Alex’s eyes as Prentiss hums and jots down more notes. Alex doesn’t even notice the other scientist hooking him up to an empty vial to deposit blood into.

“Sounds good Doc.” Jesse replies, standing to the side to allow Doctor Prentiss and his team of scientists to work. His own soldiers have backed off as well, though their firearms are still in ready position should anything go down.

For the next few minutes, the scientists collect vials of blood while Dr. Prentiss does a brief physical of Alex as well as examining the analytics of the collar.
“I’d say overall, the specimen is in excellent physical health, apart from the brief arrhythmia that took place earlier this morning. For now, I’m going to advise we start off with a physical examination of the specimen’s dual form and go from there, if that’s alright with you Chief Master Sergeant Manes?” Dr. Prentiss addresses Jesse, his voice submissive upon mentioning the other man’s presence.

Jesse seems to contemplate the request, no doubt taking some pleasure in the authority he holds over the multiple degree holding Doctor in front of him. Alex wouldn’t be surprised if more than half of the Doctor’s utterings went over Jesse’s head.

“As long as you finish before noon, the Specimen has another engagement to keep.” Jesse’s mouth twists into a smirk around the syllables of Specimen. Alex figures he can look forward to yet another nickname.

“Of course, Sir.” Prentiss responds, turning back to one of his scientists to compare notes.

Jesse leaves his men behind to act as guards before exiting the room, leaving Alex behind once more to be poked and prodded at.

“Gentlemen, if you’d be so kind as to relieve the Specimen of his clothing and put him into that chamber over there, it’d be greatly appreciated.” Prentiss points to a corner of the room that, from Alex’s position, he’s unable to see.

Before Alex can find the mental capacity to fully comprehend Prentiss’ words, the soldiers have taken off his restraints and divested him of his clothing. Alex would say, more than anything, the shock is what prevented him from struggling while he was unceremoniously undressed but there was also the unsaid reminder that Michael and his sibling’s safety rested heavily on Alex obeying commands.

All too soon,Alex finds himself being shoved into a clear paneled cell-like structure that only gives him enough standing room to kneel. Behind him, Alex can hear hissing as the door he entered through seals behind him. He does his best to conceal his genitals from view as he takes a look around his new environment. As he earlier deduced, the chamber is made of a clear material that allows him to see out as well as for the scientists to see into. However, one thing he did discover is that the chamber is noise proof.

That had become apparent as soon as the door had sealed behind him, his ears having nearly popped at the sudden cease of all noise, save for the ones his body made as he adjusted himself into as comfortable a position as he was able to. Alex didn’t want to think about why the scientists would want the chamber sound proof.

The next thing he noticed was that attached to the so-called chamber are ducts with accordion-like tubing system. Alex's eyes follow the traveling tubing to a computerized station on the other side of the room.
“Captain Manes, can you hear me?” For a moment, Alex is startled by the sudden introduction of sound, not to mention being referred to as more than just a common lab rat. He looks around the chamber for the source and finally lands on a metallic speaker system situated inside the foundation of the clear wall towards the center left of him.

A part of Alex wants to ignore Prentiss, let it be known that he wasn’t completely giving in. But, as he reminded himself earlier. He was doing this to protect Michael and his siblings. Better he go through this than them.

Alex nods in acknowledgment, still managing to hold onto a few bits of resistance.

“Good, now I’m going to need you to revert to your dual form. That is your non-human physical form.” Prentiss stares at him expectantly, as if he had just asked Alex to pass him the salt shaker and not shift into an entirely different species.

Alex can’t contain the shocked look that drops upon his face, his heart rate increasing the longer the seconds go by and the doctor doesn’t take back his command.

Prentiss raises an expectant eyebrow, “is there going to be a problem, Captain Manes?”

Alex opens and closes his mouth, his system too overcome by shock to properly form and expel the words that want to come out. Alex had been aware that his father wanted to exploit his “other side” but naively Alex had thought he would have had more time. Surely more days upon days of testing would have taken place before this step was even considered. He was willing to do anything to protect Michael but Alex honestly didn’t know how he was supposed to respond to this.

The last time Alex had transformed it had been a knee jerk reaction, his emotions so out of whack and senses heightened to the maximum extent that Alex only knows it occurred because of the blood he had come to be covered in as well as the debriefing he received later on. Even when Alex was young and his mom was still living with him, the only time he had ever been able to transform was by accident after a round of beating by his father.

His mother had been there to coax him into transforming back, assuring him that he was safe and that she would take care of him. Lies or false comforts, it was painfully hard to tell. Especially because, not long after that experience, his mom had packed her bags and left him behind to deal with his abusive father.

At least, that was the story his father had told him.

“Captain Manes?” Prentiss repeats, his fingers hovering over a panel of buttons.

Deciding the truth was his best response, Alex replied “I don’t know how to transform on command.”
Prentiss nods, as if that were the answer he was looking for. A sickening feeling was beginning to build in the bottom of Alex’s gut.

“That’s quite all right, Captain Manes. We’ve been informed of your triggers. If you would please, try not to move about too much. I would hate for you to cause any undue damage to yourself.” Prentiss responds, his voice continuing to maintain an airy, doctorly tone to it.

Alex watches as Prentiss types out a command on one of the computers attached to the tubing. The sickening feeling soon turns to organ squeezing fear as gaseous fumes begin to fill the chamber. He clamps his mouth shut, doing his best to cover his nasal passages as he frantically scrambles around inside the chamber, his wild eyes looking for any way to escape the cell.

Let it be said that Alex can hold his breath for nearly two whole minutes, if he really tries, however, no attempt he’s made has involved sudden dangerous unknown chemicals and of course electrocution.

That’s why Alex can’t be blamed for his surprised intake of breath when the first shock of electricity is delivered from the collar around his throat. The gas enters his throat like a violent punch to the heart, tasting like copper and sour milk. He would have thrown up had his body been still long enough.

He can distantly feel his body making contact with the concrete floor, the stab of pain quickly being eaten up by the nausea and nerve snapping caused by the gas and electrocution.

Like before, Alex can feel his teeth and nails elongate, his screams morphing from human to something distinctly animal as he does his best to reign the beast in. He tries to push himself to his feet, briefly forgetting the impossibility of that, but that attempt is shot down by a painfully loud snap from his spine that has him howling in agony. His body contorts and twists upon itself, more joints and bones bending and twisting into new positions

Unbeknownst to him, the gas has been turned off and, as a precaution for his heart, the initial current of electricity coursing into Alex has been adjusted to a lesser amount.

Alex can feel the skin tearing sensation of his smooth human skin being rapidly replaced by a dark chocolate colored pelt.

Before Alex loses total control, his vision rapidly increasing and fading in intensity, he can just make out the inquisitive expression of Doctor Prentiss, staring into the chamber.

With a painful whimper, Alex closes his eyes, the wolf in him internally snapping its jaws and canines at the threat it's been thrust into.

Chapter Text

Alex is sure by this point, his skin is more needle marks than skin. Even shifting what little he can in the restraints leaves him wincing in pain as his skin catches at the material. At one point, one of the scientists had pinched the skin between his thumb and pointer finger, the sudden sensation enough to cause him to jump. The scientist makes a note on their clipboard before walking away.

Around him, the scientists continue to examine him, the only conversation being observations and notes passed between them. It’s as one of the scientists is examining his teeth, specifically his canines, Alex feels a throbbing pinch in his left hand. Looking down, he notices the scientist from earlier, a mousy brunette female, hooking him up to an IV.

“Subject 08625 delivered Isotonic solution via IV” her voice borders between being nasally and soft, a combination that scratches against Alex’s eardrums.

After the mousy scientist has finished writing out what she needs to on her clipboard, she adjusts her glasses and addresses the other scientists in the room.

“It’s going to take at least a half hour for the solution to set in. The subject’s not at full strength right now and I don’t feel like having to restart any of the tests due to faulty data. Anyone up for lunch?”

There are murmurings of agreement as the scientists filter out, two of the guards take stances in front of the only door, the remaining guard positions herself beside him. Her eyes never once straying to him. As if he’s nothing but a statue on display.

He can feel the solution flowing into his veins, the cold sensation like water coating a parched throat. He wouldn’t say that he didn’t receive sustenance, he would note though the food he did receive was barely fit for human consumption and the water always had a suspicious powdery aftertaste. Alex, however, ate and drank what was given to him anyway. Afterall, he was, sickeningly, positive that there was no intent to kill. At least yet.

There was also the added reminder that Alex had sworn to follow orders. He wasn’t going to risk Michael being brought back and tortured because he refused to drink cloudy water.

Michael, he hoped to God Michael was safe.

The sadness in the other man’s eyes as Alex was forced into the back of the van haunt his vision. Each blink he can see the tears and fear building behind Michael’s eyes. It sickened Alex that he was the reason behind Michael’s turmoil.

As much as it pains him though, Michael’s survival is the only thing keeping him going.

Alex knew from the moment he agreed to Jesse’s terms, he was going to be pushed to his limits. Treated like a human pin cushion. What he should have seen coming though, if the collar was anything to go by, was that he’d lose the standing of being considered human.

The loss of his name had been another check in the dehumanization list. Alex was sure that soon even Jesse would refer to him as such. That was if the older man grew tired of his dog jokes. The guards certainly wouldn’t.

Alex, knowing he would need all the sleep he could get, allowed the weight pushing down his eyelids to succeed. His body giving into the cool soothing touch of the solution as well as letting go of the tension that seemed to have found a permanent place at the base of his spine. At least for the moment, he knew that pain would quickly return once he awoke.

It didn’t feel like much time had passed between closing his eyes and the scientists leaving before he’s jostled awake by one of the scientists. Their name badges purposefully missing. No doubt a strategy to prevent Alex from maintaining any information other than what was willingly given i.e. nothing.

He felt the same mousy scientist remove the now empty IV bag and dispose of the equipment.

“Prentiss wants us to collect samples from both forms. The subject’s hydration levels should be high enough to handle the procedures.” The mousy brunette states, turning to the closest guard to speak to them.

Alex watches with disinterest as he’s unstrapped from the table led to a different room.

~Fast Forward~

Hours later, Alex is dropped back into his original cell. His body unable to stop itself from smacking into the tile floor, forcing a grunt of pain past his red, blistered lips. Even now he could feel the blisters healing, but the phantom pains remained.

He can feel and hear the shutting of the door, the gears sounding like tumbling like rocks down a hill.

After a beat, Alex pulls himself up the best he can and forces his body to lay down on the mattress. He situates himself the best he can, his muscles screaming at him to stay still, his right hand in particular can barely manage more than a twitch.

~Flashback~

After the physical examinations, he had been escorted a different room, this one slightly smaller than the last. The walls were the same off-white as well as the concrete floor. But whereas as the last room had lab equipment littering various table tops, this room had a single metal table. No chairs.

On the table were four separate containers. They were fist-sized and looked to be made of a material that reminded him of charcoal, giving no clue to what was hidden in them.

His question is soon answered when a scientist enters the room. A guard pulls him forward and orders him to stay put in front of the table.

The scientist stands on the other side of the table, his ginger hair and beard almost glowing beneath the sterile white light situated above.

Without a word, the scientist raises one of the containers, releasing a fowl rancid scent. Alex can only just hold in his gag as he eyes the petri dish, the sponge in it spotted with blue and green mold.

Alex can feel the eyes of the scientist watching him, no doubt cataloguing his response to the stench he had revealed.

He feels momentary relief when the scientist replaces the container over the petri dish, the smell almost immediately fading away.

The ginger scientist moved on to the next container. Alex, now wise to the onslaught that was likely to occur braces himself, determined not to slip up again.

Unlike the first scent, this one actually has a calming effect on him. The scent itself smells like birch, mixed with a flowery undercurrent. He’s reminded of the times his brother Greg had taken him fishing, an activity that was more about getting away from their dad then actually catching fish. The woodsy scent wraps around his body like a long awaited hug.

All too soon, the scent is taken away by the placement of the container. He didn’t realize his eyes had shut until the absence of the smell forces them open.

Remaining silent, the scientist moves on to the third box and lifts the lid. The scent smells like a forest that has just experienced a rainstorm along with a spicy amber. It smells familiar, a face comes to mind. Michael’s face. His sly smirk and twinkling eyes. If he concentrates enough, Alex would swear he could hear his raspy laughter.

It’s not the same though, he can tell that much. There’s something different about this scent. While there are similar notes, the overall weight of the smell feels more subdued, fragile almost. Like the source of smell was making themselves as small as possible to avoid harm.

He can’t pin down what the scent could be, maybe a woods animal or something? An answer was scratching insistently at the back of his head, only outdone by the pawing of the wolf in his mind.

He opens his eyes, meeting those of the scientist who watches him silently.

With the final container, Alex can immediately pinpoint the scent. Coffee, nicotine and musk. Human, or more specifically a human who likely worked here in Caulfield.  

Soon after, the container is brought back down and Alex once again finds himself escorted to yet another room. He’s honestly starting to wonder if Caulfield is built on some kind of black hole with the amount of rooms that place seemingly has.

He’s soon absorbed in tests having him located the one scent he couldn’t identify earlier, among the rest of the scents from earlier. He was forced to locate the scent in a myriad of different settings. Some inside the building, other times he was escorted outside and forced to find it in the environment. Both in human form and wolf.

It would have been a nice change of pace, if it hadn’t of been for the electric shock he received if he didn’t locate the unidentified scent in a timely manner.

Soon, he finds himself being led back inside to the room with the lab equipment and restrained on the table.

Alex hadn’t been able to see what the scientist had brought into the room, his back having been turned to them. But by the sudden change in the atmosphere, he knew that this test would be different from the rest.

From the moment the knife had carved a shallow cut across his left cheek, Alex had known playtime was over. His wolf had growled at what it perceived as an unprovoked attack, their teeth aching to rip off the hand that had hurt their human host.

It hadn’t taken more than a minute for the shallow cut to knit itself back together, the whole process feeling like a tiny spiders pinching his skin.

The next cut was a bit deeper, this time a slash across torso.

3 minutes in human form.

35 seconds in wolf form.

From there, the level of injuries increased.

His arm had been broken with the quick precision of one of the guards.

20 minutes to heal in human form.

3 minutes in wolf form.

Stabbed in the meaty part of his stomach. The knife dragging across the exposed, bloody flesh as the knife was withdrawn.

32 minutes in human form.

10 minutes in wolf form.

At this point, Alex was covered in a blanket of sweat, his lungs panting in exertion as his heart rate pounded inside his chest. Threatening to break free of its cavity. New, drying and dried blood smattered his chest, arms, face and neck while a pool of blood steadily collected in a compartment situated into the table.

It didn’t escape his notice that a vial of blood had been taken from the compartment as well.

Throughout the whole ordeal, Alex had managed to not cry out or whimper, in both human and wolf form. Each time the blade had met his skin or a bone had been snapped or popped, he could feel it building within his chest. Quaking like an earthquake in the back of his throat.

He had already given over so much to these people. Dignity. Submission. Blood.

Pride was the one thing he still had left.

But even that was beginning to feel like make believe. Did he really have any pride left if he was allowing this to happen to him? He could have fought back so many times, literally bitten the hand that feeds him.

But he hadn’t. He couldn’t. Not with the likelihood of Michael ending up back in the clutches of Jesse.

The scream that had been building in his throat is let loose when suddenly, the knife is slammed through his right hand. He could feel the way the bone sliced through the cartilage, bone and nerves to come out on the other side.

He could only watch in a detached, foggy haze as his impaled hand shook. His body going into shock at the onslaught of pain and damage that had been inflicted upon it.

Out of the corner of his eye, Alex saw one of the guards approach, reaching out for the handle. He knew what was about to happen but before he could react or even prepare himself, the blade was yanked out. Spurts of blood fountained out of the gaping wound, the metal table visible through the top of his hand.

Alex could took little pleasure in the throw up that burst past his lips, even if he knew some of it had landed on those around him; he could tell by the groans of disgust that met him.

Panic began to fill him as the vomit tried to asphyxiate him. Luckily, the scientists flew forward and manipulated the table until he was on his side. One scientist reached into his mouth with a finger and scooped out the vomit that was trying to drown him.

He coughs, a few more chunks and bits flying from his mouth as he tries to catch his breath.

As his body tries to calm down, he doesn’t notice the argument that takes place around him between the scientists.

“You were supposed to be timing!”

“How could you be so stupid?”

There were talks of watching the recording, getting the data that way. However, they could have been talking about rainbow unicorns riding tanks through the base and Alex wouldn’t have noticed. The shock having effectively numbed his mind to the events around him.

He didn’t notice when his hand finally healed itself. The only evidence that a knife had ever impaled it was a faint circular scar that in time was sure to go away.

N/A in human form.

15 in wolf form.

~End Flashback~

Alex cradles his hand to his chest, his body still trembling from the come down of adrenaline.

Behind the skin of his forehead, he can feel the thrashing of his wolf, the growls feeling like they are coming from his own chest. Maybe they are, he honestly can’t tell and what scares him the most, is that he has to question whether he cares or not.    

Chapter Text

It feels like he’s only been asleep for a few minutes before he’s awakened by the opening of his cell door. The guards lift him from the mattress and after a few rough shakes, mostly for their own enjoyment, Alex is being led from his cell to yet another room.

While his body has since healed the wounds he suffered from yesterday, the message hasn’t quite gotten to his joints yet. Each step he takes feels like the rubber band holding his joints together is about to snap. The rubber of the band faded and worn, long past its intended usage.

Alex wouldn’t be able to explain it, but his steps falter as soon as he steps inside this new room and the door is closed behind him.

The air doesn’t feel right. Granted, the whole aura of Caulfield leaves him gagging. This room though, it gives him the sense of a haunting. The tall walls and smooth floor, though a seemingly pristine off-gray, cannot hide the pinprick pores of a rusty red that have been absorbed into the concrete. He’s sure, to the regular human, the spots of red aren’t noticeable but to his enhanced eyesight, they are all too visible.

He doesn’t miss the large drain situated in the center of the room.

Then there is the one-way mirror, situated at least 7 feet off the floor, that glares down at the occupants. It’s no doubt bullet and shatter proof surface protecting but in no way shielding the viewers that stand on the other side. The only sounds being the scratching and typing of notes being taken as they observe the horrors occurring in the next room.

Unlike the other rooms he’s been in, even the laboratory, this room has a stronger scent of bleach and other cleaning products. It’s as if the room has been smothered in the solutions and then washed away down the drain. Though the smell remains behind, burning the senses of anyone with even the slightest sensitivity.

His wolf growls, sensing the same danger Alex is. Their instincts urging them to get as far away from this room as possible.

Behind him, the door opens once more. Instinctively Alex turns around, even the few seconds it takes him feels like a few seconds too long to have his back to a potential threat.

He watches as the guards lead in a shuffling sickly looking individual that is bald and wearing beige sweats and a sweater that they swim in. What immediately has his attention though, is the smell that wafts off of the person. Along with another individual shortly after, this one looks haggard and is clothed in a set of jeans and a t-shirt that looks like they’ve seen the floor of one too many alleys.

The smells however, are what truly distinguish the pair.

The second individual reeks of alcohol, nicotine and decay. The combination twisting the hairs in his nostrils. Although unpleasant and speaking of more trauma than one human should endure, this scent is unmistakably human.

It’s the first individual’s scent that raises the hair on the back of his neck. It’s the same, peculiar scent that he was forced to locate again and again under threat of electrocution. He still hasn’t been able to track down exactly what that scent is though.

As he goes through the list of potential culprits for the scent, the alley man scrambles away from the guards as soon as he is dropped to the ground, running towards the door right as it closes in his face. The man bangs on the metal door, begging someone to let him go, promising that he won’t tell anyone. Alex watches out of the corner of his eye not bothering to stop the man, knowing he’d be wasting his breath in the endeavor.

Survival was all the man was thinking about now, Alex couldn’t fault him for that. The man would come to his own conclusion soon that begging with the guards was as effective as fixing a leak with paper.

It’s while Alex is busy roving his brain for the name of the scent, it’s at the tip of his tongue, he doesn’t notice the first individual walking to the center of the room and dropping to their knees. Their head bowing as if in prayer.

Alex only takes notice when the alley man stops his one-man impression of a mouse in a maze to whimper out a string of “oh, gods.” As he backs up against the wall, like he’s trying to meld into the wall itself.

Following the man’s line of sight, Alex is finally hit with what goes on in this room and what the scientists want him to do.

An orange glow has begun to encapsulate the bald individual’s clenched fists, their head still bowed as they slowly rise from the floor.

The scent that swims off the individual increases, the amber in particular scorching through his senses like a forest fire in the middle of summer.

Alien. He could kick himself for how long it took him to figure it out. His first hint should have been the familiarity to Michael’s own aroma.

The human lets out a shriek of fear as he runs to the door and slams his fists against it. Begging for the guards to save him from the fiery mutant.

As the alien approaches the man, rivers of the glow travel up their arms as the static charged orb building in their hands increases. Their emotionless gaze focused on the horrified human.

Alex is moving before he even realizes it, jumping in front of the alien and shoving them back. The move causing the alien to tumble backwards, their body skidding back first against the floor a few steps. He feels a moment of remorse as the alien’s seemingly fragile body makes contact with the rough cement, the smell of blood entering the room.

His remorse still has a hold on him, when the alien rises from the floor, the orb in their hands not even flickering as they go towards the human once more.

Contrary to the snarls of fight and kill that his wolf is howling at him, Alex’s very human desire is to try and reason with the alien. If only to prevent the fight he knows will inevitably end with just one of them leaving this room alive.

Alex dashes in front of the alien, putting himself between the human and the very much human torch of an alien.   

“Look, I can only imagine the suffering you have endured, not to mention the life that has been stolen from you. I don’t know what they’ve promised or threatened you with but I do know, that if we work together, we can make sure that they never harm anyone ever again.” It’s not his best wording, it coming off, even to him, as a bit too along the lines of “we’re the same.”

Whether it’s because the alien agrees with his consideration of his request, can’t understand him or doesn’t or can’t care, the alien makes their choice clear. The alien pushes Alex aside and raises one of their hands, sending a wave of orange and blue shocks of power towards the human, only missing said human’s body due to the swift kick Alex lands to the alien’s side. 

The flight instinct in full effect, the human flees to the other side of the room, cowering in the corner with his knees pulled up to his chest like a child hiding from the boogeyman.

Blood seeps from the corner of the alien’s mouth as they rise to their feet, likely having bitten their lip or tongue during the fall to the ground. Apart from the possible split lip, the alien doesn’t seem affected by the assault. If anything, the determination in their bloodshot brown eyes seems to have increased.

Sensing the arrival of round two, Alex dodges around the alien to stand once more in front of the alien, his mouth opens once more to discourage the incoming attack but he’s silenced when he takes in the indented lines parrel to each other around the alien’s neck. The same indentations that Alex is no doubt sporting beneath his collar.

Most of the puzzle pieces have come together now, however the most important one that still bounces around his head is why didn’t the alien turn on the guards the moment they had access to their powers?

He isn’t able to think on it for long when the alien makes another go for the human. The pulsing energy glows across the alien’s arms, coming to a cusp in the alien’s palms as they advance upon Alex and the human. As the alien prepares to fire another surge of power, Alex acts on instinct and snatches the alien’s arm.

His mind screams at him to let go but his body refuses and instead increases its grip around the alien’s arms. If Alex wasn’t drowning in an ocean of tumultuous agony, he’d question whether his skin has melted and adhered to the alien’s arms because surely he should have let go by now. Instead, his grip increases, as if his fingers have turned traitor to the rest of his body and relishes in the pain being inflicted upon it.

At one point, his vision whites out as his brain short circuits, flashes of ice and fire running through his veins while the wolf locked in his brain gnashes and snarls to be released. Alex tries to hold on to the ragged on his humanity, but all it takes is another wave of crippling fire from the alien and his already weakened control is effectively ripped away, his wolf’s fight instincts rise to the surface in one swift wave.

The alien shoves Alex to the floor, his body never even feeling the contact with the cold concrete floor. His body too absorbed by the fire that is swallowing up his body.

The alien launches another wave of power at the human, this time managing to hit the human’s left leg. The human screams in agony, the smell of burning flesh filling the poorly ventilated room.

Amid the screaming of the human and the crackling of the glowing power beneath the alien’s skin, a rippling growl can be heard interspersed with an all too human whimper. Even with the agony of fire consuming his body, Alex can still feel the breaking and contorting of his muscles and bones. A particularly violent snap of his spine has him flipping onto all fours with the bones and tendons in his hands quickly stretching and crunching into an uncomfortable half raised half squatting shape.

Unaffected by the reverting take place behind them, the alien stepped in front of the cowering whimpering human and grabbed him by the throat. The power thriving beneath their skin burning into the sensitive skin of the male human evacuating a squealing scream past his lips as he thrashed and kicked out against the alien.

As the alien increases their grip on the male’s throat, the croaking and choking of the human effectively cutting off his earlier screams, Alex raises his previously lowered head, revealing a pair of glowing golden eyes. Eyes that once housed human compassion and morals now stored vast supply of animalistic hunger and rage. Opening his mouth, Alex reveals row upon row of lengthened, needle sharp teeth and lets out a ground quaking roar.

With a kick forward and one breath and the next, Alex’s body smoothly transitions from his human self to that of his wolf.

The human’s slipping grasp on consciousness from lack of oxygen prevents him from realizing the danger in the room has increased from one entity to two. The alien however does notice and is quick to react.

Using their free hand, The alien aims a stream of power towards the charging wolf but the wolf effectively dodges it, rolling to the side before leaping into the air and colliding into the alien.

Dropping the human to the ground in an graceful coughing heap, the alien slams into the nearby wall, only able to stop the wolf’s teeth from tearing into their flesh by an iron grip on the scruff of the wolf’s neck. Using their height to their advantage, the alien tries to buck the wolf off, their electrical fire power flaring up in intensity as they try to scorch the wolf’s body.

Even with the advantage however, all they manage to do is cause the wolf a few burns that don’t even register in the wolf’s current mindset. If anything, the burns only increase the wolf’s volatile actions and further buries the connection Alex has to his humanity.

As the wolf, where the hell did a fucking wolf come from?! And psychotic mutant struggle for dominance, the human weakly grips at the nonexistent edges of the floor and crawls towards the door. His whimpers and grunts of pain eaten up by the growling and scraping sounds coming from the fight taking place not 5 feet away from the man. With each inch forward the man manages, he can feel his skin scraping against the unforgiving concrete, leaving behind a smear of burnt skin and trails of blood.

The human’s eyes zero in on the doorway, the furniture seemingly mocking him that he’ll never reach his only chance at freedom. He’s too weak, too intoxicated by the cocaine and bourbon sloshing through his veins and stomach.

When the human is only a few feet from the doorway, he hears a skin tingling roar behind him followed by what could only be described as crunching gravel. Unable to prevent the knee jerk rubbing neck action, the man turns his head and takes in the sight of the wolf biting into the mutant’s neck, blood gushing from the exposed tendons and muscles revealed to the air. He can only just hold back the bile that wants to escape his gaping mouth as the wolf releases its hold on the mutant’s neck and raises its head.

Blood and viscera drip from the wolf’s snout, coating its midnight black fur in a shiny coat of sparkling diamonds that glow beneath the static white lights positioned above.

Shaking himself out of the trance he unknowingly entered into, the human refocuses on the door and continues to crawl towards his potential salvation.

The wolf unconsciously licks its chops. His senses are immediately enraptured with the expected copper that hits its system first followed by the alien’s natural scent of rain and amber that floats up from the exposed blood coating the alien’s still gasping form.  

With the alien apparently down for the count, the wolf focuses its attention on the crawling form of the human attempting to get to the door. The human’s scent reeks of a sour musk as well as the tantalizing current of sinewy blood and fleshy meat.

At this point, Alex’s control of his wolf has been effectively severed, overpowered entirely by the wolf’s own desire to make the room bloody with the remains of the two foreign beating hearts that reside in the room.

The wolf goes to step over the alien’s fading body, however the wolf only gets a step in before being stopped by the sensation of the alien reaching out and placing a gentle hand on the side of the wolf’s face. With surprising strength the alien turns the wolf to face the bloody pale face of the alien.

Instead of being met with a furious glare, the wolf is met with a faint, kind smile and what could only be described as thankful eyes. Even as blood continues to pulse from the exposed punctures in their throat and their breaths become painful wheezes, their fingers deliver comforting strokes to the wolf’s bloody fur.

As the alien continues to pet the wolf’s fur, the wolf’s mind panics with confusion. The battle between wanting to finish the prey that dared tried to kill its human counterpart and its humanity trying to spark back to existence at the unexpected kind touch, has caused its body to come to a standstill.

The alien’s smile briefly increases, as if they are using up what little physical they have left, and meets the wolf’s glowing golden eyes.

Without warning, a bell-like voice enters the wolf’s mind. The wolf’s vision takes on a golden hue around the edges and beneath its hold the alien’s once bald aged face morphs into that of a beautiful woman. Her hair is a light honey brunette and her eyes are a shimmering hazel, similar to a pair of eyes that his human counter-part would happily drown in.

Michael’s eyes.  

The wolf’s human counter part stirs at the acknowledgment, an image of said alien’s smiling face, highlighted by the sun’s rays.

The woman’s eyes brighten up seeing the image, a look of yearning glossing over her features as she drinks in the sight of the other alien.

Of her son. It’s more a of feeling than anything but the awareness that Alex has while contained is screaming at him that this woman is his boyfriend’s mother.

Thank you.

The vision is broken with a choking gasp from Michael’s mother and both are soon returned to their dire realities.   

With one last stuttered breath, Michael’s mother shuts her eyes and her smile slips into a line. Slowly, the hand that was petting their killer’s fur slips to the floor, the pale palm of her hand and fingers spattered with her own blood.

Like to a punch to the gut, Alex is pushed back to the forefront. The wolf keens in confusion and even a bit of anger at being forced back into the confines of it’s human counterpart’s mind.

Alex gags at the blast of copper and iron that hits his taste buds and sense of smell upon his return to control. His chest heaves, as though having just completed a marathon as he takes in the bloody body of Michael’s mother. Her expression hauntingly serene with a halo of blood around them.

A gasping sob rips its way out of Alex’s throat as he desperately checks her pulse, knowing but still praying that he’ll find one. His heart fractures upon the unsurprising discovery of an unbeating heart. Another life stolen by the wolf that resides within his mind, and worse yet a life that his boyfriend will never get to experience first-hand because of Alex.  

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” He whimpers, his fingers fluttering over her lax face, his fingertips leaving behind smudges of blood mixed in with the tears he can feel slipping down his cheeks.

He doesn’t register the sudden opening of the door, the piece of metal narrowly avoiding slamming into the head of the male human still crawling on the floor. Five soldiers enter the room, followed closely by Jesse whom steps over the human’s quivering form to approach Alex.

The soldiers ignore the male’s pleas and gratitude’s as two of them haul the man up onto his feet and drag him from the room.

For a few moments, Jesse looks down at his bloodied son, his facial expressions intentionally flat. It wouldn’t be a stretch to guess though that the sight of his own kin crying over the mangled corpse of an alien doesn’t disgust him.

Without a word, Jesse kneels down in front of Alex and the corpse. The familiar smell of decaying flesh and iron itch the sensitive hairs of his nostrils but otherwise don’t affect him, his body having gotten used to the odor long ago.

“You did a good job, 08625. A nice kill, granted the clean up crew will have a long day but that’s their problem.” Jesse watches in unamused silence as Alex continues to stare at the corpse, Jesse’s eyes involuntarily rolling at the pathetic sight.

Jesse’s words echo in Alex’s mind. Good job. A nice kill. Like Alex and he were on a hunting trip and Alex had just landed his first elk. Not the mother of the love of his life.     

As Jesse continues to observe Alex, three of the soldiers return and stand behind Jesse. Awaiting their next orders.

“Major T. and L dispose of the alien before it stinks up the place.” This spurs Alex into action, not wanting anyone to touch her, especially not the likes of these soldiers or his father. He attempts to attack the approaching soldiers but in his shocked and still injured state, the soldiers are easily able to overpower him into the chokehold of another soldier.

Alex is helpless but to watch as the soldiers each grab an end of her body, one at the head the other at the feet and wordlessly shuffle out of the room with it. Their movements uncaring as if they are simply taking the trash out. It’s enough to force bile up his throat which he swallows back with a wince.  

Alex’s eyes travel down to the the halo that was once outlining the alien’s head now a smear on the floor. A sizzling white noise fills his head as his eyes follow the small droplets of blood leading towards the door.

He doesn’t react as the remaining soldier lifts Alex to his feet, his body unresistant and almost lax, giving the soldier an annoyance of having to prop up Alex’s body against his own. Soon, Alex is being practically carried from the room and ends up a few minutes later restrained on an examination table as doctors work to address any potentially fatal injuries as well as to take note of how fast the healing process is taking.

Apparently, it’s decided that the third degree burns he previously had have already downgraded to first degree burns. No doubt, by the following morning the burns will likely nothing more than blisters.

After his checkup, Alex finds himself once again going down the familiar lifeless hallway to his cell, his steps stumbling as he follows the jerking motion of the solider that has a hold of him. His mind continuing to flip through a slideshow of her smiling bloodied face.

It’s when he unceremoniously tossed back into his cell, the door closing immediately behind him, that the answer to his unasked question from earlier comes to him.

If she had turned on the soldiers, more than likely they would have been subdued in a non-fatal way so as to not be reprimanded for killing a testing subject. Michael’s mother, although malnourished and no doubt suffering from numerous other illnesses, still housed a lighthouse of intelligence in their eyes, she was Michael’s mother after all, and  likely knew the outcome that would occur with the soldiers.

There was also the probability that Jesse had gotten into her head as well. Tortured and manipulated her mind enough with promises of relief and freedom from the constant testing and pain. After being a prisoner of war for however many decades it had been, Alex could only imagine the yearning one would have to be able to close their eyes and never have to return to the hell that had become their life.

It would make sense then, that Michael’s mother would go along with a scenario wherein all she had to do to get said relief, was goad another subject into killing her. Alex is positive however that she never could have imagined that her killer would be her son’s lover.  

But just because it makes sense, doesn’t mean that the blood still covering his hands and face doesn’t feel like a visible stain upon his very soul. Burning him from the outside in with the knowledge that not only did he play right into his father’s plan but that the love of his life’s mother is dead because of him. A life extinguished largely in part by the brutalities of man’s search for domination over other forms of life.

The same drive Alex knows is currently leading his life by a leash. Only given so much slack to pad ahead, take in the scenery around himself and delude his mind with thoughts of escape only to be yanked back when he gets too close to the road.

Up until this point, Alex could still imagine a scenario where he and Michael could find a way back to each other. He knew there would be a fracture between them that would take a lot of mending, not only because of Alex’s choice to trade himself for Michael’s safety but also from the torture and experimentation both of them had endured during their times in Caulfield.

He was scared to find though that he wasn’t sure how they could possibly heal when Alex was responsible for the death of Michael’s mother. He knows how important a connection like that is for Michael. He’s spent countless nights holding Michael in his arms while promising him they can be a family together and promising to love him forever in the cosmic love story they were building.

Now all he can imagine is the betrayed and anguished look on Michael’s face when he discovers what Alex has done. Right before he walks away from Alex forever.

With a padded step, the wolf is able to use its teeth to bite through the brittle bars of its cage.

Without his knowledge, Alex slides down the wall and stares into space, his mind unable to escape the unending footage of her smiling face and the anguish he didn’t have to dream up on Michael’s face.

Within his mind, the wolf pads at his senses, urging him to let it back out. Muffle the pain of his earlier actions. It’s a testament to his fractured and bleeding mindset that it takes him around a minute before he turns the offer down.

However, upon the next round of testing that occurs the following morning, Alex doesn’t fight the scientists or soldiers on turning into his wolf. In fact, he takes to staying in his wolf form even after the rounds of testing have concluded.

~M+A~

Michael wakes up on Max’s couch, his eyes bombarded by the desert sun as he rolls over onto his stomach. His face burying into a throw pillow.

Max enters the living room, already dressed for his shift at the sheriff’s department, going to straight to the coffee machine and pouring himself a thermos of coffee. Even though Max has clearly had a shower from his still damp hair, the bags under his eyes are not so easily tamed with soap and water. The catalyst of course being that they had spent all of last night trying to come up with a plan B if Greg didn’t pull through.

Which is becoming more of a possibility given the fact that Greg and his class was supposed to have returned the day before. However, a storm had flooded the roads and forced them to have to seek shelter in a motel for the night. Apparently the storm had also knocked out a few telephone poles as well, meaning that it was likely Greg had yet to read Michael’s message.

At least, that was what the receptionist had told them after Isobel once again used her mojo on her.  

Unfortunately, their plans mostly consisted of Michael banging down the walls of Caulfield and rescuing Alex. His siblings would be there too of course, however both vehemently shot down these suggestions.

Max stops in his path towards the door and turns to Michael, not at all surprised to see the other man still laying on the couch.

“Listen, I’ve got a shift but I’ll be back in a few hours. I know you’d rather be back researching in your bunker but please, do me a favor and stay here for a bit longer. For my peace of mind. I promise, as soon as I get back I will continue to help you and Isobel come up with a plan B.”

Michael flops his head back onto the pillow situated behind him. “Right, don’t go off half-cocked and wait until the babysitters return.”

“Michael-“

His brother closes his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose, “I know, I’m sorry. I just feel like I haven’t done anything helpful since calling Greg. And I don’t even know if that’s even going to do any good. For all I know, Alex could have meant Greg from the post office.”

Max approaches the couch and takes a seat on the coffee table.

“You got to stop doubting yourself. You and Alex have a connection that most people could only dream of. Hell, I dream that one day Liz and I will have even a fraction of the bond you two share.”

“Judging by your six sense of her proximity, I’d say your on the right track.” Michael manages to joke.

Max chuckles in return but quickly turns serious once more.

“That may be, but what I’m trying to say is that you know Alex better than anyone which in turn means that he knows you just as well. He gave you all the information he thought you needed to help him, trusting that you would figure it out. And you did.”

Michael’s response is silence, his mind absorbing and deconstructing Max’s words.

Rising from his seat, Max squeezes Michael’s shoulder before exiting the house with a reminder to call or text him with any updates.  

After Max leaves, Isobel exits the guestroom and enters the kitchen, her half awake mind blindly preparing a cup of coffee and taking a long drink from it once it was up to her taste.

Her mind not nearly as foggy with sleepy, she takes notice of Michael sitting on the couch, his posture hunched over and his expression dampened with worry.

With her cup of coffee in hand, Isobel enters the adjoined living room and takes a seat on the armchair across from Michael. He doesn’t react to her sudden presence, but neither move to speak and break the silent tension between them.

The two have never been touchy feely with each other, civil sure but for the most part, Michael sometimes felt like the cousin that came to town every once in a while to hang out with the richer relatives.

After taking another sip of her coffee, Isobel breaks the silence.

“Did you want some coffee? I know for a fact Max has some of that snicker’s creamer in his fridge.” Her question is met with silence. Although disheartened, she’s not surprised, especially thinking back on the way she acted yesterday. At this point, she can honestly count only a handful of times that she hasn’t put her foot in her mouth when it comes to Michael.

She rises from her seat and walks back to the kitchen, getting another coffee mug down and setting about fixing one up for Michael.

Meanwhile, Michael continues to sit in silence, his thoughts caught in a storm of Alex being tortured and imprisoned somewhere inside of Caulfield or wherever the hell it is they’ve taken him. He can’t help but feel that if he had just fought back a little harder, punched instead of ducked Alex would still be by his side. Safe and unharmed.

Instead, because of Alex and his self-sacrificing heart Michael is sitting here alone scared out of his mind that the last image he’ll have of the other man is Alex looking out at him from within the military van.

Michael almost jumps when a cup of coffee is suddenly being thrust into his hand. Not necessarily wanting the drink but needing something to distract himself, Michael moves the cup into a more secure hold and stares down into the mug. The steam rises from the beverage and leaves behind a trail of moisture down his nose and chin.  

Isobel reclaims her seat in the armchair and takes a few more sips of her coffee, watching Michael stare down into his cup like it holds all the answers. But this is Roswell and their aliens so she honestly wouldn’t put it past the universe to throw in a Harry Potter twist.

She sets her cup down and leans forward.

“Michael.” Like last time, he doesn’t respond and instead continues to stare into the cup. She sighs, time for a different approach.

Rising from the armchair, Isobel takes a seat next to Michael on the couch, her shoulder purposefully bumping against his own almost causing him to spill some of his coffee.

“I’m sorry for putting my foot in it as always. It seems like all I can do lately is pick at the scabs in other people’s lives.” She shakes her head.

“And here I go making it about me again. I’m sorry, what I want to say is that it was a bitch move of me to say what I did about Alex, especially because of the fact that he brought you home, safe and alive. I’ll never be able to repay him for that.”

As she speaks, Michael finally takes a drink of the coffee, unsurprised to find acetone in it but he smiles all the same. Leave it to Isobel to locate Max’s acetone stash.

He takes another drink from the mug, the acetone and caffeine creating a pleasant buzz that coats his nerves and mind in a lucid fuzzy sensation.

“I know that I’ve never exactly been Alex’s biggest fan, especially with all the times that he’s left you a mess during his deployments. However, whenever you mention him or are even around him, I can see how happy he makes you. I swear it’s like night and day whenever your with him, in the greatest way of course. And so, if even if I still hate him a little bit for the pain he’s caused you, I will do everything in my power to make sure we get him back for you.” She continues, her coffee nearly gone by this point with how fast she’s been drinking from it.

Setting his mug down, Michael turns to face Isobel.

“Is, I appreciate what you’re saying and I forgive you. But I’m scared to death that you’ll never get the chance to repay him and really get to know him. You’ve only ever seen my aftermath, not the damage that I’ve inflicted. This might come as a surprise to you, but Alex and I have always been equal in the department of hurting each other. It’s just a matter of who strikes first.”

Michael takes a moment to take a deep breath, his throat already trying to close up at the direction this conversation has taken.

“For the longest time, I was convinced that the best thing I could do was lose him because of a stupid comment or a reminder of our fucked up past. Sometimes, it was even preferable over the thought of him dying in the middle of a dessert halfway around the world. It makes me sick to my stomach to even think that but I would rather have him hate me and alive then boarded up and transported home in a flag draped coffin.” Tears fall down his face followed by a hiccupping breath.

Isobel pulls Michael into her arms, his head automatically finding a home in the crook of her neck as she rubs his back.

“Things were getting better though. Alex’s enlistment was finally over and he was supposed to be stationed in the reserves here in Roswell where he was supposed to be safe. Everything was falling into place, I could feel the home we were building together and I know he felt the same way. And now God knows what Manes is doing to him.” He grips at Isobel’s nightshirt, the old t-shirt one of Max’s that he doesn’t wear much anymore.

Isobel listens raptly, her face pinched in sympathy and sadness for the pain she can hear in her brother’s voice.

“We’re going to find him, Michael and you two will be able to live such a disgustingly sweet life together that everyone around you will get cavities” she promises, eliciting a wet laugh from Michael which causes her a small smile.  

Eventually, after a few more minutes, they separate and go back to their coffees. Allowing the silence to naturally take hold once more but with the added blanket of comfort and assurance in each other.

When Max returns home for his lunch break, he finds Michael and Isobel sitting on the couch together with bowls of soup in front of them. A old black and white film plays on television that neither are really watching but provides decent background noise as the two talk.

Max wouldn’t be surprised to find that Michael had only had a few mouthfuls but Isobel had just been happy that she had managed to get him to eat anything. The earlier coffee had gone down easily enough, but Michael was no better than a colicky infant transitioning to solid foods.  

Max sets his keys down in the change bowl near his door and heads into the kitchen to get his own bowl of soup to reheat in the microwave. As he does, Michael’s phone begins to ring, the screen lighting up with Greg’s number.

For a moment Michael is too stunned to move, a part of him convinced he’s somehow fallen asleep and this is all a dream. His bubble is quickly burst when Isobel bumps his leg and urges him to answer.

Snapping out of his stupor he snatches the phone up and answers before it can go to voicemail, his voice winded from the anticipation of the call.

“What’s happened to Alex?” the panic in Greg’s voice makes it clear that he knows this is more than a simple fight the two have had, especially given the fact that its Michael calling him and not Alex. The two were a little more than acquaintances, given their equal wish for Alex’s wellbeing, but it could not be described as a friendship.

Now that he finally had the man on the phone, Michael was having trouble getting the words out. Knowing that as soon as he did, he would likely be facing the wrath one pissed off older brother and honestly, Michael was more than willing to face it. It was because of him that Alex was a prisoner of his father.

“Michael.” Greg prompts, becoming a bit frustrated and further worried the longer Michael remains silence.

“Alex traded himself for me from your father. He’s somewhere in Caulfield and we have no clue of how to get him out.” He blurts, the words rolling off his tongue like ocean floor landmines.

This time it is Greg that is thrown into silence, having not expected those words to reach his ears.

When Greg finally gets control over his voice box again, he replies.

“I know you’re above average in the intelligence department Michael, but why would Jesse kidnap you?”

At this, Michael stares at his siblings who are watching the one-sided conversation intently. Figuring that it would be best to put the call on speaker, Michael switches to speaker and sets the phone on the coffee table.

“We both know how much the man hates me, not just for the fact that I’m in love with his son and his son loves me back. I’ve also never hidden my resentment towards him and stood up to him for what he’s done to Alex. But this isn’t just a father overreacting to a relationship he doesn’t like.”

Michael takes another glance at his siblings, they’re expressions nervous but supportive. His stare focuses on Isobel who silently nods at him in ascent.

“Jesse and his soldiers had kidnapped me from my trailer and took me to their secret military lab in Caulfield because I’m an alien.”

There is silence on the other end.

The room feels like a vacuum has sucked all the air out as they wait for a response. At one point, Michael even checks to make sure that the call hasn’t dropped for how long Greg remains silent.

Finally, after another minute has passed, Greg speaks.

“I can’t say I was expecting that, but it explains a lot. I always knew there was something different about you, Michael, not only because you and the Evans siblings seemingly appeared out of nowhere. That and the way my brother fell so deeply for you even when I didn’t think it was a good idea.”

Michael briefly lowers his head, his eyes taking on a foggy view as he recalls their very first kiss in the UFO Emporium. If he were a less selfish man, Michael would wish that he had never pulled his head out of his ass and finally kissed Alex, instead kept his emotions locked up and continued to be the redneck outcast. Maybe then Alex wouldn’t be a prisoner of Jesse Manes.

As if sensing his thoughts, Max lays a calloused hand on Michael’s shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze.   

Isobel can’t control her sharp intake of breath, not having expected Greg to put it together so quickly, especially in concern to the night the three of them emerged from their pods. While it was beyond a fact that after Michael revealed his true origins to Greg it would only be a matter of time before Max and her would be exposed to the older ex-Navy man. Unsurprisingly, the exposure of their secret is one of her top fears, right below the three of them ending up as lab rats and ultimately dissected.

If Greg notices the audible gasp, he doesn’t comment on it and instead continues speaking.

“There’s a lot of things I can hate you for, Michael. Like the times Alex called me in the middle of the night, crying because you two had had another fight. The way he always manages to mention you in a conversation and be once again completely in love with you even after all that was said.”

“I’m sorry.” Michael didn’t mean to utter it but he doesn’t regret his words. He knew that Greg and Alex had a closer relationship than the rest of their family members, but to know that Alex called his brother after the fights they had made him feel like any goodwill Greg had towards him was sure to be dry. Especially with what was going on now.

“Michael, what I’m trying to say is that as much as I initially worried about Alex being with you, you two have come so far since those days. I know it’s not all sunshine and rainbows, but I know how much you have come to mean to him and I’m guessing he means just as much to you. Which means, as much as I want to blame you for what’s happened, the truth is none of this is your fault.”

Knowing the argument Michael is preparing to give Greg interrupts him.

“My father is a champion when it comes to making bullheaded decisions, no matter the cost to others or even if their family. You can’t help what you are Michael, just like Alex and I can’t change the blood that runs through our veins. I don’t know what led up to Alex trading himself, but I know our father more than likely knew damn well what the outcome would be of taking you. And if it wasn’t you, it would of would been someone else in his life that was important to him, it could have been me. The point, is that whatever scenario, Alex will always sacrifice everything to protect those he loves. All the blame you’re feeling, none of it belongs to you. This is all Jesse’s fault.”

None of the group know how to respond to that. While it was well known that Greg didn’t like his father, something that was very clear when Greg refused to come to a ceremony the Mayor held to honor Jesse Manes’ contributions to the Roswell Community. The second Eldest Manes son had instead gone on a road trip with Alex out of Roswell.

What was unexpected, but really shouldn’t have been, was the easy acceptance that Greg displayed upon being told that his brother’s boyfriend is an alien from another galaxy. It makes sense though, especially given Greg’s background in the Navy which likely gave him access to top secret information that pertained to the existence of aliens on earth.   

“Now, as much as I would love to continue pointing out all of my father’s flaws, we don’t have time. We need to come up with a plan on getting Alex back safely. Where are you right now?”

Michael clears his throat and responds that he’s at Max Evans house and that Isobel is here as well.

“Okay, I just got back to the Reservation but I should be able to get there in about an hour. I gotta make a few calls first, I still have a few contacts in the Navy and Military with high reach. Hopefully one of them has some information on what exactly Jesse is doing and can maybe even put an end to it, not likely but it’s something.”

Greg ends the call by requesting Michael keeps him up to date if anything changes along with a reminder that Michael is not to blame for what happened.

Afterwards, the trio sit in stunned silence. Unsure, happy but also suspicious about how well the phone call went. Isobel has to bite her tongue not to say what she wants to say, having only just gotten back on Michael’s good side.

But she can’t help but fear that they have just invited even more danger to their doorsteps.