#scripted: michael

michael paused, not sure how to take what alex just said. perhaps it was just some strange poem the other wrote, but the ache in his heart made him want to believe it to be something more. he wet his lips. things between them had been blurring more and more since they’d met and michael wasn’t sure if understood what it meant. he reached out, ruffling the other’s hair. “don’t say things like that — you know i don’t get that stuff,” he said, swallowing thickly as his hand lingered. “you shouldn’t ever think anyone who would hurt you. i don’t care if you or whoever thinks it’s romantic or whatever. if someone cares about you, they will do what they can not to hurt you. and, if they do, you definitely don’t thank them. that doesn’t help anyone,” he lightly lectured. “you write that?” he should have let it be. but, he prodded. how far did it go? what did alex really think? what did he feel?

michael shouldn’t have been surprised when the other questioned his motives — the other staff seemed to view the inmates more like animals than people in need of help. it hurt michael considering people who entered the field should have cared more. he shook his head. “i’m not psychoanalyzing you. i’m sure you have to deal with that enough during your sessions. i just want you to be okay,” he insisted softly. he wasn’t sure if he had the authority to move the other to a different room just to give him coffee and light conversation — things were rather strict. but, the idea was tempting. however, a frown tugged at his lips as stanley continued, his heart only growing heavier and heavier. “no one should be experimenting on anyone — you know that. i know you know that. no one should get hurt. you won’t get better if you’re constantly getting hurt. i — and everyone here — should want you and the others to be comfortable despite any crimes committed. you’re still a person, you have the right to be unharmed and happy. isn’t that what you want, to be happy?” he asked earnestly.

michael was well aware of the dangers that came with working within arkham state. but, that did nothing in mentally preparing him for a hostage situation — specifically where he was the hostage. he was too careless, too trusting of the inmates. he knew they were criminals, but he fully believed that he could navigate himself safely around them. unfortunately, it made him into an easy target for one of them, michael wrestled to the ground and roughed about before being pulled into one of the rooms. he’d tried to resist until he felt the jagged, sharp edge of a makeshift weapon pressed against his neck. the inmate demanded to be released, the other staff attempting to calm the man down. but, no amount of pleading made him lower his weapon — he only pushed it further into his skin until it broke through. it felt like hours passed by until the man was properly sedated in a whirlwind of commotion that michael manage to pull himself out of it. he was tended to but refused to take the days off to recover, instead going back to work as if nothing happened. he shook his head as he was questioned by stanley, overly conscious about the scrapes, bruises, and overly large bandaid on his neck. “it’s fine — you don’t need to worry about it. everything has been taken care of. you should be focusing on yourself, like eating,” he gently insisted, barely nudging the tray of food closer to the other.

michael knew there was everything wrong with this. he should just leave, force himself to forget carson. but, he’d already tried that and it didn’t work — it only made things feel so much worse. to think that carson didn’t think of him, that he’d forgotten him too. he couldn’t take the ache in his heart. but, with the hand holding his, he could go back to pretending. he easily followed him, sitting down carefully. “a lot, i think, compared to where i was. i’m not exactly the same anymore, carson,” he said softly, looking over at the other. “met some guys after moving, almost got my brother and mom killed, changed,” he admitted, a flat laugh escaping him as he looked down at his hands. “but, now i can do anything for you, carson. i will do anything i can. i didn’t come from money or an important family, but i could try to get those things.”

carson’s words had struck michael dumb, unable to find immediate words to respond with. after everything he’d gone through to get back to carson, to be what he needed — it just wasn’t enough. he was never going to be enough. michael’s dead heart ached. still, he had to be defiant. “you don’t know that for sure. you could realize that you’re wrong after tonight,” he said, determined. he was going to change the boy’s mind. he was going to prove that he could be a part of his world and still be partially himself. it was his last chance. he couldn’t live for who knows how long without trying everything. and, if carson still didn’t want to be with him, then he didn’t want this immortal life.