"A man will be as a hiding place from the wind, And a cover from the tempest, As rivers of water in a dry place. As the shadow of a great rock in a weary land." (Isaiah 32:2)
And Then The Murders Started or An Oasis Can Be A Cabin In the Woods
DEETH! A five times fic written for the Dallas + Oasis pop-up event.
Read on Ao3
1. In the months following Dallas' discovery of being an actual alien, from like actual outer space, he began to have a crisis of faith. And then the murders started.
2. Dallas was like one of the missing pieces to this whole alien adventure - he was the water flowing into the desert, creating an oasis, a safe place for Isobel, Michael, and Max to express all of their emotions - the fear and relief - that had been building up over the last two decades. He was able to be a comforting ear, without fear of judgment over past wrongs. He was an outsider to their past, yet held intrinsic insight and compassion for everything they had been through. And then the murders started.
3. As Dallas explored the depths of his alien powers, he began to worry about whether they might be limitless, and what that meant if there were other dangerous aliens still out there. And then the murders started.
4. Heath crashed through the door shouting for Dallas, "Grab whatever you can! We have to go now!" And then the murders started.
5. Dallas decided that he needed some time away to reflect on everything he'd learned about himself, about his origins, about his triad. Heath offered him the keys to his cabin, with the caveat that he could tag along as well. And then the murders started.
Well, that wasn't entirely true.
Being with Heath, it was like dying and being reborn every time they fucked. Dallas had learned the phrase 'la petite mort' back when he had traveled to France. He had been staying at a hostel in Marseille, and the only thing the other youths seemed to talk about when he was around - likely when they found out he was studying to be a pastor - was about sex, orgasms, and anything else salacious to try to get under Dallas' skin. But he was certainly no prude and he could hear all their internal, silent prayers, giving him an insight into what was behind their words.
From what he remembered, while at times la petite mort lended itself to the idea that an orgasm brought one a bit closer to death, it was the concept that climaxing didn't just trigger a physical release but a spiritual one that fascinated him the most. There was also the Victorian held idea one's life force could be "used up" by having sex, that something that felt this good must come at a price. It was a price he was certainly willing to pay to be with Heath, and each time they were together he treated it with a spiritual reverence that fed his heart and soul.
Dallas always woke up early, even when he had no reason to. It annoyed Heath, especially back at Mesa Pines when they were camp counselors and they had their half days off together. Dallas would wake up with the birds at dawn and go for a trail run to clear his mind before the day started.
But now…
Between his obligations to his church and Heath's to his research, their time was always fleeting and rushed and impermanent. They had never had time together like this before. Nor had he ever felt like this before. The knowledge about himself being an alien was freeing, it was like he could finally come to terms with who he was and become who he was truly meant to be. He still had a million questions, but he'd found his history and was able to reforge those connections with Michael and Isobel.
And Heath, his rock, his best friend, his forever. Heath seemed so relaxed laying there in the sunshine, the golden light caressing the exposed skin across his back. He had spent years trying to save Dallas, but now they had Liz and Kyle helping figure out what was wrong, or if Dallas' alien-ness was just messing with the diagnosis.
Dallas was truly relieved at how accepting of all of this Heath actually was. It must have been the things they geeked out over as kids, from wizards and superheroes to, yes, aliens, that Dallas being a literal alien made sense and was something to accept as a new reality.
"Why are you awake," Heath groaned, his face still smushed into the pillow.
"Just soaking everything in," Dallas replied.
Rolling over, Heath said, "I can hear you thinking too much, and I'm not the alien in this relationship."
Dallas just smirked, leaning in to press a gentle kiss Heath's pillow-creased cheek.
Heath wrapped his arms around Dallas, rolling them until Dallas' back was to the mattress and Heath straddled his hips. "While this is all fun and glorious, I think you owe me breakfast in bed after last night, man's got to keep up his strength if I need to keep going toe to toe with an alien life form," Heath teased.
Dallas ran his hands up and down Heath's thighs, a reverence to his touch, remembering the strength and power they exuded last night.
"Well I'm not going to get much cooking done if you keep me pinned to the bed like this," Dallas countered.
"Fiiiine," Heath said with a pout, rolling back off of Dallas. "Get to it!" he shouted, with a commanding tease.
Dallas just laughed all the way to the kitchen, so happy to just be living in this moment, taking everything in, just one second to the next. It was a safe space, an oasis, a bubble that would likely burst once they left, but at least carving out this time created memories to last them through any tough times ahead.
