Work Text:
There’s a bird in the tree overhead.
A-spen looks up at it, their thoughts flitting away from them momentarily. A moment passes, and they begin to wonder if the bird is also watching them as well. Then the little thing spreads its wings and takes off from the branch.
A-spen watches it go, almost longingly. The sight fills the pit of their stomach with a sort of feeling, one that isn’t easily described, at least, not for them. Emotions, along with birds and trees and the blue, blue sky that hangs over Seabrooke like a marble dome, are new.
A-spen tries to understand them, along with everything else, but it’s still hard. Fingers tighten and clench, and they wonder, wonder, wonder.
Wonder if it’ll ever truly feel like home here.
They hope so. A-spen takes a breath, then another. Something Addison had taught them how to do.
It helps with the feeling, whatever it is, and slowly it starts to fade back from their stomach. A-spen clasps their fingers together, leaning forward slightly.
They’re waiting outside the high school, waiting for someone in particular.
Willa.
She had left them a note, scrawled in barely legible writing on a torn scrap of paper, tucked and folded into a sliver as thin as a knife, slid carefully into their locker.
Meet me after school on the north side, by the woods.
An all too familiar, (yet again so new, so foreign) heat had begun to crawl over their cheeks when they had read Willa’s scratchy handwriting. They had quickly tucked the incriminating slip of paper away before one of their friends could read it, knowing very well that a blush was engulfing their face no matter what.
And so, they’re here, standing, at exactly three-twenty nine pm, on the north side of the school, the side of the building that meets the forbidden forest, the side that all of the werewolves come prowling out of every morning, fangs gleaming.
They know that because they’ve stood here many times, waiting, (for Willa.) She arrives like something that deserves to be waited on.
A-spen surely never regrets doing so. A-li just rolls her eyes and tells them that Willa doesn’t appreciate their affection; that it’s silly to even try. Maybe trying is silly.
Maybe everything is ridiculous. But they smile more now, more than they ever did in their whole lives aboard the mothership, than any single day out in space.
So if they’re ridiculous, A-spen thinks that they don’t care.
A twig breaks.
A-spen turns, just in time to catch Willa’s glinting eyes, her sharp, sharp fangs, that catch the fading afternoon light.
Willa grins, all teeth.
“You’re getting quicker.” she remarks, eyes gleaming as they fall over them, filled with a heady sort of warmth that makes A-spen feel something, all the way down to their bones. Willa’s fingers, warm, brush theirs.
A-spen swallows. “-Yes. I heard the -tree branch snap.” they raise a shaky hand up to clarify, but Willa just smiles indulgently.
“You ready?” she asks, raising an eyebrow. A-spen nods, with quite a reckless lack of hesitation. “Where are we going?” they ask, though Willa is far from being the forthcoming type.
True to both A-spen’s prediction and similar prior experiences, Willa does not answer their question, but only smiles and gestures for them to follow after her, into the forbidden woods.
The two of them doing things without the others, the rest of their friends, is not unusual, A-spen thinks to themself.
Ever since the aliens returned to Seabrooke, decided to settle there, to make it their new home, A-spen and Willa have…hung out, as earthlings put it. It has, however, had yet to include any actual hanging, but A-spen isn’t really complaining.
They know that they have made quite a number of new friends here on Earth; Addison and Bree, and Zed and Eliza, a number of the werewolves, and even a couple of the cheerleaders.
But Willa, oh, they hope Willa is different.
A-spen watches as Willa bounds ahead of them, the sunlight breaking through the tree canopy in dappled, broken shards of sunlight.
And, of course, they thankfully still have the comfortingly familiar friendship of A-lan and A-li. But the two of them are busy all the time now, having found new friends of their own, here on Earth, and it is just all so different.
Sometimes it’s a good different, but sometimes it crawls under A-spen’s skin, like an earth insect, crawling and uncomfortable and scary.
At times like that, all A-spen can do is curl into a ball in their room, blankets over their head, and then generally proceed to watch a brain-rotting amount of television, not emerging until the feeling has faded away back to a dull ache.
Those days, those are the bad days; where it feels like Earth will never be home, no matter what they do.
But this isn’t one of those days. The sun is bright, the ground firm under their feet, and Willa beside them. Or in front of them, rather.
They break away from their rather melancholy spiral of thoughts to fix their gaze onto the werewolf in front of them. Willa strides confidently several paces in front of them through the curving shadows of the forest, her stride never faltering once.
This is her home, A-spen knows.
The trees, the forest floor, this was where Willa was created, born, a full creature of flesh and blood and sunlight and air, as alive as the trees around them. A-spen touches the bark of one such tree slightly reverently, as they pause to rest.
It is difficult to keep pace with Willa, here in the forest. They start again, hurrying so as not to lose Willa in this shadowy denseness. Their thoughts return once more, inevitably, to Willa.
They sincerely hope that Willa cares for them too, in the way that they do for her. Willa is like the earth’s star, warm, bright, life-giving. Earth would be so much dimmer without her here.
They have gone around Seabrooke together, to the ice cream shop, to the movies, Willa had even taken them to see the werewolf den, (a rare privilege, Addison had told her later, a strange glint in her eyes, full of a knowing sort of look), all of which A-spen had greatly enjoyed.
There had even been a particular, special night a few weeks prior, where most of the citizens of Seabrooke had gathered to view a meteor shower, and also have a party.
The citizens of Seabrooke, A-spen observed, needed very little prompting to throw a party.
There had been music. They had wound up seated on a blanket next to Willa, because, as Wyatt had put it, “they were, out of blankets.” Willa had growled at her smirking brother and A-spen had only stood there, feeling quite uncomfortable at possibly making Willa uncomfortable.
But Willa had, rather hastily, said that they didn’t mind, when A-spen had offered to go see if anybody else had a free spot.
They had sat on the blanket, shoulders pressing together. The meteor shower had begun, the sky growing dark. It had been a nice night, and they remembered thinking that Earth would actually be quite a nice planet to live on, after all.
But that wasn’t all.
Because, at some point when the sky had grown dark, their head had begun to accidentally slump onto Willa’s shoulder. They had jolted themselves awake suddenly and looked up at the werewolf, eyes wide, afraid that they had crossed some unspoken earth boundary.
But Willa had only looked at them, a mysterious, unknown look on her face, eyes reflecting stardust. And then she had bent, ever so slightly, and pressed her mouth against A-spen’s, lips chapped.
They felt certain that their heart had stopped.
A-spen had frozen mid heartbeat, momentarily unsure of what to do, before slowly kissing her back.
And since then, that particular night, the kissing had continued.
All together they had now kissed four times.
A-spen was keeping careful track of each and every instance, so as to never forget them.
A-spen glances ahead of them, checking to make sure Willa is still within sight. They blink, uncertain quite of where Willa is, when their shoe hits something and they very nearly fall to the ground on their face, when they’re suddenly caught by two very strong, lean arms.
A-spen blinks, a little dazed, and looks up to find Willa looking down at them with something like affection on her face.
“-Thank you.” A-spen says. Willa just smiles.
Her arms rest against their torso firmly, holding them in place so that they couldn’t fall if they tried. A-spen takes a breath, realizing with some embarrassment, that they are blushing again.
They try, and fail, to get it to stop. Willa smiles.
“My shoe became caught on something extraneously projecting out from the terrain.” A-spen says to her questioning gaze. Willa smirks.
“You tripped on a tree root.” she clarifies.
Slightly abashed, A-spen nods.
With emotions, one gets happiness and love, but also receives anxiety, sadness, embarrassment. Something about taking the good with the bad, A-spen supposes.
Willa smiles, the sharp points of her fangs jutting out slightly over her lip. The alpha wolf says nothing, just takes the curve of A-spen’s hand and laces her fingers through theirs.
“Come on.” she tells them, a dark sort of grin on her face, and she pulls them down the path, if it could even be called such a thing. They stumble a little ways further, (or rather, A-spen stumbles, Willa continues to glide with her same usual grace, albeit at perhaps a slightly slower pace than before) down the forest path.
And then abruptly the trees part, revealing a pool of water, a smallish lake perhaps, rimmed by trees on all sides. There is a rather large rock on the edge, and Willa offers her a hand as they both clamber up onto it.
“What is this place?” A-spen asks, staring out onto the surface of the water that reflects the shimmering sun overhead. Willa just smiles, satisfied and rather proud of herself.
“My brother and I, Wyatt you know, we found this place one day when we were out playing as cubs. Nobody but us knows about it.”
A-spen looks at her. “And me.” they say, almost thoughtful, wondering what the werewolf means by this, and hoping not to get it wrong.
Willa smiles, something full resting behind her eyes. “Yeah. And you.” she says, dark eyes soft.
A-spen smiles, thoughtlessly, (but so much of emotion is thoughtless, they’re learning.) They slip from Willa’s grip, craning their neck around. The trees are almost blue, soft and yearning towards the sky.
The water ripples like broken glass. Their feet hit the ground gently.
A-spen can feel Willa’s eyes resting on them, a gentle sort of thing, and again the differences hit, the harshness of not knowing what it is that she’s thinking. Thoughts here are so secret and invisible, something to be concealed, and not for the first time, it hurts.
But the sun is shining on this planet, not perfect, not flawless, but still, somehow, good. And there’s minnows swimming in the clear water, A-spen sees when they bend over slightly.
Another smile forms, and here, there’s no need to hide it.
Willa watches A-spen, almost knee deep in the water with their pants rolled up to their calves, and smiles to herself.
They’ve been engrossed with the surroundings for the better part of an hour, and there’s such a childlike innocence about them it hurts.
The discovery of the minnows swimming in the water had been met with a huge smile, and one that had only continued when Willa had told them about the frogs that one could find if they were lucky.
A-spen’s eyes had widened, and Willa could tell the exact moment their determination to find one had formed.
Willa sighed to herself, rolling her shoulders back, leaning back into the sunshine. She sat propped up by her hands on the same large rock overlooking the pond as before, happy to watch A-spen wander around in wonderment.
Something about watching the alien see somewhere that was commonplace to her with sheer wonderment on their face made Willa strangely happy. A-spen managed to be guileless and full of wonder, and always totally and completely earnest, and it always made Willa’s chest tighten with something.
Maybe it was regret, for how cynical she had let herself become.
She always reminded herself that she had become what she had to, to protect her pack, but seeing A-spen, it made her question herself. A-spen had led their race through the universe, and yet had somehow held onto a gentle kindness that Willa found lacking in herself.
“I found a frog!” A-spen cried, jolting Willa from her thoughts.
The blue-haired alien looked up at her with a wide grin and cupped hands. Willa smiled, honestly, earnestly. “I guess you are lucky.” she said, shrugging, as the alien went back to peering at the tiny creature cupped in their hands. Willa watched as A-spen looked at the tiny thing, whispering something inaudible before gently slipping the frog back into the water.
Willa wasn’t able to repress the gentle smile that pulled at the corners of her mouth. Slowly and carefully A-spen clambered out of the water, ankles dripping, and onto the rock beside Willa.
Their blue eyes sparkled in that vaguely alien way, shimmering in the sunlight, as A-spen glanced over sideways at them.
They sat cross-legged, both of them looking out at the shimmering water. “Thank you for sharing this place with me.” A-spen said earnestly, looking over at her and meeting her eyes. Willa shrugged carefully.
This place being both here, and also Earth.
Perhaps neither were exactly Willa’s to share, but nevertheless, share them with the alien she had. And Willa suspected that she was a better person for it.
A-spen fiddled with the rolled up edge of their pants. “I-also enjoy that. You chose to spend time with me, singularly.” A-spen said, looking at her, before turning up towards the sky.
Willa wondered what it was that they saw when they looked up there.
She let the alien’s words wash over herself and did her best not to flush. They were currently in that awkward sort of place where they weren’t exactly together, but feelings, of some sort at least, were clear to both of them.
Relationships had never been a priority to her, certainly. Or maybe letting herself be open, vulnerable, was just her weak point.
But whatever the reason, she couldn’t lie and deny that the way A-spen smiled at her, like Willa had hung the moon over Seabrooke, didn’t make her stomach turn over. Something about A-spen just softened her, and Willa couldn’t help the way it got to her.
And also the fact that A-spen was actually pretty cute didn’t hurt anything either.
Willa tries to play off her silence as a non answer, hoping that the alien didn't begin to suspect that bringing them up here alone in order to spend time with them without their (very nosy, but well-meaning) friends, had actually been her plan all along.
A-spen just looks at her, arms folded loosely in their lap and a short strand of blue hair falling into their face. Willa fights the urge to brush it back into place.
They lapse into silence once more. Silently Willa kicks herself.
She’s the alpha. A-spen very clearly likes her. She cannot be too much of a baby to make a move.
But to move past being…this, into being- something else. That’s hard.
Maybe Addison is more of a role model than Willa gave her credit for. Internally, Willa rolls her eyes.
Getting a zombie boyfriend is one thing, getting an alien partner when you are a werewolf leader yourself is quite another.
“A-spen?”
Willa begins, pausing when A-spen looks over at her, wide-eyed.
“Yes Willa?” they ask. Willa swallows. She hopes that she doesn’t look as anxious as she feels. “Are we…I mean.” she stops, but A-spen says nothing.
A bird chirps over Willa’s head, she feels certain that it’s making fun of her.
“Are we…romantic partners?” she asks, feeling absolutely ridiculous, yet another reason to have this conversation out of sight and earshot of her brother. A-spen stares at her for a long moment, and for a dreadful moment Willa thinks that she has horribly miscalculated, misunderstood the longing looks, the starry eyes, the kissing, the kissing back.
What a blow to her ego that would be.
But then A-spen beams, eyes shining. “I must confess I was quite unsure if that was what we were, but I was hopeful! I would like- that, very much!” they say, hands clasping together.
Their smile spreads onto Willa’s own face, and there’s silly, pathetic relief in every pore of her body. They hug, A-spen’s frame thin and rather cold despite the sun against her own. Their hands clasp around Willa’s back, and she smiles into A-spen’s shirt.
“I’m glad too.” she says quietly.
They pull apart and A-spen’s eyes are still shining, like they’re full of starlight.
Who knows, maybe they are.
Willa smiles a little sharper, a little more wolf, some of her confidence coming back. After all, she has an alien as a date now. “Actually, that’s why I brought you up here.” Willa says, voice low, hands around A-spen’s waist.
Their eyes blink, confused. “Why?”
Willa just smirks, and presses her mouth against A-spen’s colder one. As always, A-spen lets out the smallest of gasps, before obligingly kissing her back, quite enthusiastically.
Willa smiles against their mouth, and after a minute they pull apart, noses bumping slightly. “That was number five.” A-spen says, as if to inform her of something important. Willa can’t help the sputtering laugh that escapes.
“You’ve been counting?!”
A-spen just tilts their head, like she’s the ridiculous one. “Of course.” they say, like she should know better.
Maybe she should.
Willa shakes her head slightly. “Well, that’s a pretty low number. Kind of sad.” she says, now fully amused. A-spen’s cheeks darken, and only now Willa begins to hope that they aren’t sunburned.
The alien doesn’t complain however when Willa pulls them into another kiss, and another, and another.