#hs m

i do not trust people who make benry look like those freaky fuckers from h*mestuck

“Fuck.” That was the first word out of Jim Valenti’s mouth. “Fuck.” “That seems to be everyone’s reaction,” Alex muttered as he watched the sheriff.   Alex had chosen to go to Sheriff Valenti alone, afraid of outing Michael as an alien in case it did not go as well as he had hoped. It was nerve-wrecking, walking into the sheriff’s office and asking for a moment alone, when that moment was involved admitting that maybe he was pregnant. ‘Fuck’ really was the only acceptable response to the news, really. “I need you to believe me, Jim,” Alex said after he explained the situation to him. “I know it sounds crazy, and I know that this seems like a joke, but I’m being serious and I’m worried, and you were always there for me and I hope you can be there for me now.” His words came out in a rush, much faster than the phrase ‘I think I may be pregnant because apparently my secret boyfriend is an alien’ had. “Alex- Alex, calm down,” Jim said, arms held in a placating manner. “I’m glad you felt like you could come to me.” Alex let out a short breath of relief. “We both know I couldn’t go to my dad. I’m serious though. He’s an alien, he showed me that he was an alien… and, well, I had thought about it before I even found out he was an alien, no matter how stupid it seemed. Maria made a comment and I’ve been feeling awful for weeks now…” Jim cut Alex’s rambling off when he stood up. He walked to his office door and locked it. Softly, he knocked his head against the wood door. He sighed. “Alex,” he said, voice slow as he turned to face Alex. “I believe you. I believe you, because I already know that aliens exist, and that they have been in Roswell since the crash.” “Fuck.” Really, that was the only response to that. - Sheriff Valenti took Alex and Michael to lunch. They didn’t talk, not about aliens or male pregnancy or anything important. They made awkward small talk, discussed Michael’s future plans for school and Alex’s musical goals. It was awkward, but nice. Both Alex and Michael imagined that this was what it was like to meet the parents, if they lived in a world where Michael had parents and Alex’s parents were involved or, you know, not a homophobic, abusive asshole. Jim kept the small talk up as they ate through their meal. He ignored the looks people were throwing them, including Arturo though his gaze was more worried than curious. He ignored the awkward context for this entire outing. Instead, he talked about the home improvements he’d been doing, what Michelle was going with the garden, and Kyle’s determination to go to Michigan for school. “Doesn’t he know it gets cold? And not just like the cold here!” The awkward didn’t let up until Jim excused himself to go to the bathroom. Michael turned to Alex, his brows drawn together in annoyance and confusion. “What the fuck Alex?” “I don’t know,” Alex replied, voice hushed so that no one could hear. “I told him, he said he knew about them already! He said we’d talk about it over lunch!” He gestured, his arms spread wide to take in the milkshakes, the half-eaten burgers, the empty basket of fries. “I don’t know why he’s not talking!” Michael opened his mouth to replied, and promptly shut it when Arturo came to the table, fresh basket of fries in hand. “Here you go boys, on the house,” Arturo said with a smile. He nudged Alex’s burger closer to him. “You have to keep eating, a growing boy like you,” he said with a wink. He smiled at the table one more time, stepping away as Jim made his way back over. “And thank you again, Michael,” he called over his shoulder, “for helping out with that broken door the other day! I don’t know what I would have done if you weren’t there!” He turned to Jim. “He’s a good kid, just needs some support.” Michael tried not to blush, embarrassed by the conversation, by an adult he respects talking about him as if he weren’t there. He knew Arturo meant nothing by it, Michael more suspected that Arturo was trying to talk him up to Jim for some reason or another, but man did he still hate it. Arturo’s departure, and the reminder that he needed to eat, brought Alex’s attention back to why there were at The Crashdown in the first place. “Why’d you bring us here, if we’re not gonna talk?” Jim sighed loudly as he looked around the diner. After Arturo’s loud conversation with Michael and Alex, the crowd stopped paying attention, reaffirmed by Arturo’s friendliness and his seeming support of the two teens even with the odd addition of the town sheriff. Jim squared his shoulders. “We are going to talk Alex, I promise. I’m here for you,” he looked at Michael, “for both of you. I just need to clear some things up, ok?” “OK,” Alex said as Michael shrugged. “You’re not safe at home Alex, not now. We need to get you out of there.” “Yeah, no shit sheriff,” Michael said, tone disbelieving. “He hasn’t been safe there for years.” “Guerin-“ Alex started, before he was interrupted by Jim. “I know,” he replied, face weary and eyes sad. “I know, and I never knew how I could help, not without Jesse retaliating. But this?” He gestured to the two of them. “This is going to be worse than anything we could imagine, if he ever found out.” He lowered his voice. He kept his eyes on Michael’s, steady and full of fear. “I’m not the only one who knows the truth about the crash.” “Fuck.” They both said.