Thank you! Here’s prompt 54. In the same universe as this (I should make a master post of these by now, but they’re under the tag “sensory prompts” on my blog). I will be writing the other prompt at some point, but it may take me a while.
[discussion of suicidal ideation]
54. The moment when reality starts to make sense again
“The last few years felt kinda like a dream,” Michael murmurs, tracing a pattern across Alex's bare chest. The storm has abated, leaving only the soft sound of drizzling all around them on the metal of the Airstream.
“What do you mean?” Alex asks, raising his head to look at him.
“I don't know. It never felt quite real. You reenlisted, and then left, for me, and at first I thought it was history repeating itself, you know, your father was a danger to me so you removed yourself to keep me safe. But it wasn't the same.”
“How did it make you feel?” Alex's voice is hesitant, careful, like he's not sure he wants to know the answer.
Michael shifts on the mattress, so the wooden bed frame doesn't dig into his ribs quite as much. “I don't know why it took me so long to realize that part of the reason you left was that I was with Maria.”
Alex frowns a little, but doesn't say anything.
“I was so lost, so obsessed with what your family did to mine, what they were still doing, that I forgot to think about your perspective,” Michael continues. “I mean, I never stopped thinking about you, but I didn't see what was so hard for you, how I kept putting you in untenable positions. Me and Maria. Making you choose between me and your family.”
“That's not a hard choice. You're always going to be my priority,” Alex says, almost defensively.
“Just because your family is awful, doesn't mean it's easy to let go. I didn't see that you were burdened with that guilt. I was so self-obsessed, I missed everything.”
Alex closes his eyes and worries at his lower lip, and Michael can swear he sees it quiver. “Shit, I didn't mean for this to get so heavy,” he says, skin crawling with discomfort. But he's been working on that, too, in therapy. On not walking away from a conversation just because it gets hard.
“No, we probably need to talk about all that,” Alex says before he can.
“I missed a lot, too,” Alex admits. “I kept getting scared and running, I get why you couldn't wait any longer.”
“No,” Michael protests immediately. “Me and Maria, that wasn't because I was tired of waiting. That's just a stupid excuse I gave you. I was...lost. So lost. In Caulfield, you would have...you would have died there with me, you didn't even hesitate, and it woke something in me, that and my mother dying. You're...what I told you about leaving the planet is true. You're the only reason I want to stay.”
“Fuck, Michael,” Alex mutters under his breath.
“But seeing my mother die, seeing how those aliens were treated, it reminded me of how unwelcome I am here. Suddenly, wanting to belong here felt like I was betraying her. It wasn't because it was your family, I know that you're nothing like them. ”
“I never thought of it like that,” Alex murmurs.
“Maria was...she was there, and she was willing to give me the human warmth I needed without the hard talks, without having to actually look at my motivations. And there was so much going on, I just closed every door in your face and refused to look at reality. Until you finally woke me up.”
“The day you got kidnapped. You told me...you told me that there was one way of off this planet for you.”
Alex swallows, looking away. “I didn't mean to say it,” he murmurs. “Not like that.”
“But you did mean it. I realized that...I was being so egocentric, thinking that I was the only one feeling the way I felt. I grew up feeling alienated from everyone, pun intended, even Isobel and Max after they were adopted, so I never thought other people could feel the same way. But you don't need to be an actual alien to feel like you're unwelcome and hated for something you can't help. At least I have the privilege of secrecy and passing.”
“Passing isn't easy, either,” Alex murmurs. “Hiding who you really are from everyone.”
“No. But I was there thinking no one could relate, and I see now just how preposterous that is.”
“Do you still think about it?” Michael asks hesitantly.
“That way of off the planet. Actually taking it.”
“Killing myself?” Alex makes a strange gesture, in between a shrug and reaching out. Michael grabs his hand almost reflexively, holding it tightly. “Not so much. The possibility is always kind of there, it's been there for as long as I can remember. But I've had a lot of therapy.”
“Good. Cause I would really hate it if you−” Michael breaks himself off, there's no word that he can put there that won't make him want to sob. “Sorry, it's no joking matter. Fuck. I don't want you to die.”
“Neither do I,” Alex responds softly, rubbing circles into the back of his hand with his thumb. “Do you? Still think about leaving?”
“It hasn't been an option since I used a ship piece for Max's pacemaker. It was never a real option, actually. Not without years of work and some serious funding. It was just something I was reassuring myself with.”
“A coping mechanism,” Alex says.
“You said the last few years felt like a dream. Does it feel real now?”
Michael takes a moment to actually think about it. “I didn't believe it at first, when you said you're here to stay. I just...I've imagined this moment so many times, but I gave up on hoping for it.”
“I'm sorry,” Alex murmurs. “I'm sorry it took me so long.”
“Don't be. We did our best. We both needed the time, even if I didn't think I did.”
“I'm not leaving again,” Alex promises.
“Good,” Michael says. “Because the world doesn't make sense without you.”
It's the truth, he thinks. His mind has a clarity in this moment that he hasn't experience in years. A world where he is with Alex is a world worth fighting for. Every time.
