for @alexmanesappreciation day 2: canon divergence :) (warning: descriptions of injuries, mentions of violence, dissociation, memory loss, etc)
ao3
Michael paused as he walked into the airstream.
He'd expected to come home to no one. Maria was angry at him and Alex was missing. Well, allegedly missing. He'd spent the last four days frantically trying to search for him before caving and going to the group, laying out a whole plan to go find him in the early morning, only to see that Alex had found his way home all by himself. Michael's heart was in his throat.
On the tiny bed, Alex had made himself comfortable. He was curled up and still and hurt. From the tiny bit of moonlight alone, Michael could see the bruises on his pretty face. He took slow steps, not wanting to startle him despite how badly he wanted to just tackle him in a hug. He had no idea how badly he could miss that man.
"Alex?" he whispered, reaching out to touch he shoulder. Alex jolted awake and Michael took a step back to give him space, letting him look around and make note of his surroundings. His face looked even worse now that he could see more of it. "God, your face."
Alex's eyebrows furrowed just a little at that and he reached up to touch his busted lip. He didn't bother going to his eye that had been swollen shut or the nasty claw-like marks on his cheek or his nose that looked crooked or the giant split beside his eyebrow. Michael's whole body hurt in guilt. If only he found him sooner...
"I'm gonna call Kyle, okay? He'll patch you up," Michael said softly.
"Wait," Alex said, voice so underused and body so wrung out that he immediately started coughing. Michael quickly grabbed a bottle of water from the mini fridge and handed it to him. He took it and downed it.
Michael waited, fingers itching to call Kyle for help.
"Um," Alex hummed, testing out his throat before he tried to speak again, "Don't call Kyle."
"But you're hurt."
"Bullies suck, shit happens," Alex said, shrugging his shoulders. Michael blinked in confusion.
"Bullies?"
Alex stared at him for a moment and looked around before reaching up to touch his face again. He winced and Michael just felt so helpless. He wanted to kill whoever did that.
"You know there's bullies in basic," Alex said. Somehow, Michael felt even worse. Basic? As in, basic training, something Alex had gone to a decade ago? What did that have to do with anything? And, more importantly, did people back then fuck up his face that bad?
"Alex, what–"
"Please just lay with me for a minute?" Alex requested, looking up at him in absolute desperation, "Please? I'm so fucking tired of everyone except you. I just, I need... Just give me you for a little while?"
Michael didn't know what to do. Logically, he should've said no. He should've called Kyle and Liz and told them something fucky was going on. And, even then, he shouldn't even think about touching Alex. When he came back to modern day, he would be so pissed if Michael took advantage of him being confused.
But then his Alex was hurt and confused and wanted him.
"Just a little while," Michael said slowly, "Then we're gonna go get your face checked out."
Alex nodded in agreement. Michael stepped out of his shoes and watched with hesitation as Alex settled back into bed, staring up at Michael like he was scared to take his eyes off him. He began to brainstorm as to what could’ve possibly led Alex to think it was 2009. Had someone hit him so hard he was disoriented? Was he having a mental break? Was he fucking with him? Or...
Butyricol.
But even that didn’t make much sense because, with Jenna, it only clouded the last few months. If that’s what was happening, how much was in his system? Would he regain his memories when he got it out of his system? Were they gone forever? Was that even what this was?
Michael sat down on the bed and Alex reached out to pull him closer, hands making themselves at home on his body. He slung his good leg over Michael’s hip and dragged his fingers over his side, making sure to feel each muscle and rib before he cupped his face. Michael felt like he was going to lose his goddamn mind. When was the last time Alex touched him so freely, so confidently, so sure that this was his place? Had it really been a decade?
“You look old,” Alex whispered, “I think I’m dreaming.”
Michael didn’t know how to respond. What the fuck was he supposed to say to that.
“Since when did you decide to grow a beard?” Alex continued, scratching the hair on his jaw.
“It’s not a beard, I just haven’t shaved,” Michael told him, eyes detailing all that was wrong with his face. He gently grazed his forefinger over his broken nose and Alex jumped slightly. Yeah, he really needed to get Kyle.
“But it’s gonna be all itchy when I kiss you now,” Alex whispered, moving in closer. Michael knew he should tell him to stop and ask more questions. He had no idea what Alex thought was going on, just that he thought he’d just gotten out of basic.
But Alex kissed him, careful not to hurt his own busted lip, and it was hard to remember to be an upstanding citizen.
“Sorry,” Alex said after he flinched in pain again, pulling away to touch his busted lip. Michael rested his hand on his hip. “Sorry, I-I want to kiss you, but it hurts.”
“Don’t apologize, it’s the thought that counts,” Michael told him, giving him a soft squeeze before pushing himself up to reach for his phone, “I’m gonna call Kyle, okay? Get him to come look at you.”
“Why do you keep talking about Kyle? I leave for a few weeks and you guys become buddy-buddy? Don’t call him,” Alex said, a little bit of harshness in his tone as he sat up. Michael eyed him again, trying to figure out exactly how to explain what was going on. He didn’t know how. He definitely needed Kyle and Liz as soon as possible. He texted them both. “Guerin, what the fuck is going on?”
“It’s gonna be okay, I promise,” Michael said, sending out his S.O.S. before turning back to Alex. He reached out, laying his hand on the side of his neck instead of his cheek like he wanted to. There didn’t seem to be a single feature on his face that hadn’t been hurt.
Alex thought they were 19. So Michael was going to act like he did when they were 19.
He moved in for a kiss, pecking the side of his mouth that wasn’t busted and then placing strategic kisses over his jaw and onto his neck. He could feel the tension bleed from his body and, if he could keep him that way, he would.
“Okay, but,” Alex said, sighing gently as he let Michael lay him back down, “I don’t want other people showing up. I just wanna be alone with you.”
“He’s just coming to make sure your face is okay,” Michael told him, kissing his collarbone just once before realizing that was bruised too. “Alex, where else are you hurt?”
“Why Kyle though?” Alex prodded. Michael ignored the question, tugging on the hem of his shirt so he could see more. “Jesus, I’m fine, answer me.”
Michael looked up at his eyes--or, rather, eye--for a moment to try and gauge how he should approach this situation. This whole thing felt like he was stepping around a landmine. He just wanted to wrap Alex up in his arms and sleep until he was back to normal. Or maybe he didn’t want him to go back to normal. Maybe him not remembering was a blessing in disguise...
No. Alex needed to have his memory.
“What’s the last thing you remember?” Michael asked. Alex swallowed, nervous energy radiating of him. Michael kept touching him in hopes it would give him something grounding to focus on.
“Last thing I remember was going to sleep two days before I got to leave basic,” Alex said softly, looking around again, “I think I’m dreaming. This is a dream.”
Michael caught his hand, bringing it to his lips and kissing the back of his hand softly.
“It’s not a dream, Alex,” he said softly, “But I’m right here and I’ve got you. It’s gonna be okay. Can I see where else you’re hurt?”
Alex looked like he was about two seconds from losing it entirely. Michael just kept touching him and kept hoping it’d be okay. Any moment now, Kyle would pull up and he wouldn’t have to handle Alex losing 10 years of his life by himself. Eventually, Alex agreed with a quiet little ‘yeah’ and Michael helped him get his shirt off.
Bruises littered his chest and his back like he’d been kicked extensively and Michael’s heart ached. He tried not to show that it made him so sad and instead pressed a kiss to his bare shoulder. Then he started helping him out of his jeans. Which, honestly, Michael should’ve thought more about before he did it.
“Oh my God,” Alex said, voice strangled and hands shaking as he caught sight of his prosthetic. That seemed to be the last straw, the final thing to make him panic. He began stammered and hyperventilating, trying his best to make words and form sentences, but nothing made sense. It was just a sea of why and how mixed in with crying and heavy breathing. He was so confused.
“Hey, it’s okay, breathe with me,” Michael instructed calmly, getting Alex to look him in the eye despite the fact that it was much harder than it should’ve been. He wasn’t okay. Michael was starting to wonder if he ever would be. “I’ve got you, I’m right here. Things are going to be okay.”
“I’m dreaming, I have to be dreaming, this isn’t real,” Alex told him, shaking his head. His eye that wasn’t swollen was wide and terrified. “This isn’t real, Guerin, tell me this isn’t real!”
“Let me take it off because you’ve probably had it on for a week and that’s not good, okay?” Michael said softly. Alex took a shaky breath, shaking his head.
“I don’t understand.”
“I know, baby, but I’ve got you. I’m right here,” he promised, rubbing his thigh gently. It seemed to be the only part of him that wasn’t fucked. He kept rubbing his leg and kept trying to keep him calm as he moved to text Kyle again, asking him to make sure he brought crutches with him.
When Michael turned back to Alex, he seemed a lot more calm. For anyone else, that might be a good thing. For Alex, it was certifiably not. Michael reached up to touch his face, hoping that would help ground him a little more. It was rare Michael could see him starting to dissociate, but right now it was obvious and, while it was understandable, he needed him to still be aware.
“Alex, it’s okay. I know it’s a lot, but it’s okay.”
“I wanna wake up now,” Alex said softly, distantly. It hit Michael in the chest hard.
“I know. But stay with me for just a little while longer, okay?” he asked. Alex was still for a few seconds before he slowly nodded as if the question had only then processed in his mind.
Instead of focusing to hard on that, Michael went to remove the prosthetic from his body. He moved slow and cautious, unsure of what to expect. He kept checking with Alex to make sure it didn’t hurt him, but he’d seemingly checked out entirely. It left Michael on his own.
He peeled off the prosthetic and then the liner, grimacing at the strong smell of sweat and the clear irritation that had been going on for the last week. Alex’s leg was red and swollen. With a little bit of telekinesis, he got a warm, wet washcloth without leaving Alex’s side. He didn't react.
Michael took his time giving him basically a sponge bath with the wet washcloth, starting with his stump and moving up. His chest was bruised and his the flesh covering his ribs was extra tender, but for the most part the worst was directed at his face. Michael didn’t know whether to be thankful or even more angry.
He cleaned off the dried blood around his pretty face and did his best to be careful. Alex was still zoned out in his state of shock or regular dissociation or both, his eyes unfocused and his reaction time ridiculously slow if it was there at all. Michael just cleaned him up and then wrapped him in the blanket so they could wait for Kyle.
Climbing back onto the bed, Michael pulled the newly-burritoed Alex into his arms. That was the first time he caught sight of the injection spot on the back of his neck. When he ran his fingers over it, it seemed to shock Alex’s system back to life and he gasped.
“What the fuck is going on?” Alex asked, that same panic coming to the surface. He tried to sit up, but Michael just shushed him and held him. He knew Alex. He knew he just needed comfort. “How did I get here? What’s going on? I-I don’t understand, what’s going on?”
“I’ve got you,” Michael murmured against his hair, kissing the side of his head, “I’ve got you and I’ll explain everything I can, okay? I promise.”
Alex ended up moving closer, clinging to him. He wouldn’t say it, but Michael wasn’t stupid. He could tell that he was scared. Michael couldn’t tell him not to be because he was scared too. They had no idea how this drug worked, they had no idea if or when it would wear off. The whole entire thing was question marks that he couldn’t fix.
So he held Alex and even when Kyle came in with his handy first-aid kit and Alex got uncomfortable, he held Alex.
“What’s going on?” Kyle asked, eyeing them as if he was intruding. Michael took a deep breath as he tried to think of a concise way to answer him.
“Whoever took him gave him that fucking drug they gave Cam, but they upped the dosage or something,” Michael said. Alex lifted his head at the new information. “He thinks it’s 2009.”
Kyle’s eyes widened. Alex took another deep breath, a small whine vibrating in his throat as he dropped his head back onto Michael’s shoulder. He was so tired.
“But more importantly, whoever was holding him, beat the fuck out of his face and I need you to look at him,” Michael said, slowly maneuvering Alex so his back was against his chest.
Kyle slowly moved closer before reluctantly sitting on the foot of the bed. Alex was laying heavily against Michael and Kyle wasn’t blind to the fact Alex not having his memories meant he didn’t know that Kyle wasn’t a dick anymore. Usually. But Michael kept talking in hopes to distract them both.
“I was thinking maybe Liz could do some tests? Maybe we can reverse the effects,” Michael said, rubbing his hands over Alex’s arms as Kyle reluctantly moved closer to his face. Kyle looked at Michael and then back to Alex. He knew it was judging him. “We need him back to our Alex if we’re going to get anywhere.”
“Yeah, we can head over to the lab as soon as I patch him up,” Kyle decided. He looked over Alex’s face for a few more seconds before getting up to wash his hands in the sink. “I’m gonna re-set your nose, get a couple stitches on your brow bone, and clean up the cuts.”
“Oh, and check his ribs. They didn’t feel broken to me, but it’s been awhile since I’ve broken a rib,” Michael said. Kyle sighed audibly before nodding.
“So,” Alex said softly, swallowing hard as he tried to sit up better, “I’m probably gonna regret asking, but if I’m not dreaming and it’s not 2009, what year is it?”
Michael leaned forward to press a kiss to his shoulder. “It’s 2019.”
Alex deflated against him with an exhale.
“Fuck. You really are old.”
Michael huffed a laugh and kissed his neck softly. He could feel Alex relax a little with each kiss. It made up for all the side-eyeing Kyle was doing when he sat back down.
“So, we’re friends with Kyle now,” Alex went on, trying to keep himself aware while also calm.
“Yeah, we made up,” Kyle said, wiping an alcohol pad basically all over Alex’s face. He barely winced. But his hand made it’s way to Michael’s, weaving their fingers together and squeezing. Again, Kyle looked at Michael like he was the biggest dumbass in the world before going back to Alex’s face.
They made small talk for the entire time Kyle was messing with his face, catching Alex up to speed and answering questions. They filled him in on how he got taken, but how they didn’t know by who or why or anything. They told him how he was a Captain in the Air Force, but would soon be promoted to a Major. All the little things like that, all the things to keep him distracted before they had to deprive him of sleep to go do tests on him to see if this could be undone.
“No broken ribs. Ten on the right might be a little cracked, though, it feels a little weird, so be careful when you’re on your crutches, got it?” Kyle said, more doctor than friend. Michael wondered if that was because of Alex not knowing their current friendship status. He was putting distance between them for the same reason Michael stayed impossibly close. “I’m gonna go get them and then we can head to the lab.”
Once he was gone, Alex turned to face Michael again. He was more settled now, past the panic and onto acceptance if only because he had no other choice. Michael did his best to give an encouraging smile. They were going to be okay. They were going to find a cure for whatever the fuck they did to him and bring him back.
Then they would fix things.
“So if I managed to make up with Kyle...” Alex said, voice soft and careful, “What are we?”
“We?”
“Me and you,” Alex pointed out, smiling sweetly through his bold question just like he did when he was young. Michael couldn’t help but smile. He missed that. “Where have we gotten in ten years?”
Michael stared at him, his smile faltering once he realized he couldn’t actually give him a positive answer. They were broken up and over and had gotten in a fight the last time they saw each other. Alex’s sweet promises that he would keep him safe being ruined by Michael pushing him until he got mad was what had stuck in his mind since he’d gone missing. There was no good answer to give an Alex who thought he was 19 and was hurt and yet still so goddamn hopeful that his future had them together.
So, instead of answering, Michael leaned forward and gave him a kiss. Alex laughed softly and folded into the kiss despite his busted lip. Sadly, it wasn’t the first time they’d kissed through a busted lip. He knew it hurt, he’d said it hurt, but clearly Alex’s priorities were on him. And wasn’t that just the best thing?
Kyle cleared his throat as came back inside and Alex moved away quickly. Michael squeezed his thigh gently in reassurance and Alex accepted the crutches. Kyle helped him steady himself and they both helped him out of the airstream.
Alex shoved them both away, though, as he started heading for Kyle’s car. He didn’t want any help. Because of course he didn’t.
“This is bad,” Kyle breathed softly. Michael sighed, watching Alex struggle to handle both crutches and open the door at the same time.
“Yeah,” Michael agreed, “But we’ll figure it out.”
