Log: Alex and Stiles Who: Alex Mercer and Stiles Stilinski When: Evening, March 5 Where: Starting at Stiles' place, ending at Alex's What: Offering company and comfort after the Nogitsune shared his brand of fun Warnings: Not really
He’d been terrified. Completely paralyzed with fear and unable to react when the Nogitsune had found him. Apparently he hadn’t really dealt with what had happened back then, even after all this time. Go figure.
He still remembered waking up in the basement in Eichen, strapped to the chair as the Nogitsune had held the drill to Malia’s temple, ready to kill her if he didn’t let him back in. And he’d done it. There’d been no other choice. But seeing him threaten to take Dee’s tail off if he didn’t get what he wanted had felt like a different loss of control. He didn’t have leverage this time. He wasn’t a part of the negotiation. All he’d had was the ability to goad the Nogitsune, to try and steal his focus for long enough for what he’d been hoping would be a rescue attempt. One he’d been waiting for ever since he’d convinced Kitty to leave without them.
On some strange level he was proud the Nogitsune still considered him so worthy of his attention.
Now, it was like none of it had happened. Rapunzel had worked her magic or whatever that was, and he didn’t have a mark to show for it. Not outwardly, at least. Everything still had that sense of unreality about it though, and he knew it would take a while to shake that. He was exhausted, but there was no way he was going to be able to close his eyes. His sleep had been screwed ever since the last time, and he knew what would happen if he even tried right now.
When Alex, Luke and Reggie had all said they wanted to see him, he’d been torn between wanting to accept the company and not feeling like he could. But considering everything Alex had just been put through, when he’d said he just needed to see him, Stiles hadn’t been able to say no. Every time he thought of him sitting there alone in that cafe in the rain for hours, he felt like he’d been punched in the stomach. He wouldn’t have blamed Alex if he never wanted to talk to him again after that.
At the sound of a knock, he pulled himself from the cocoon of blankets he’d made on the bed. He’d been lying there staring at the ceiling for what must have been hours, trying his hardest to dissociate. Of course, the guilt had won out in the end and prompted him to post his message on the network. He ignored the mess of papers and clothes left strewn around the room in the Nogitsune’s wake. His crime board was a disorganized mess half on the floor at this point and god knew where his laptop was. He scrubbed a hand through the mess that was his hair, zipping his hoodie up further as he made his way to the door of the apartment. He wondered if the persistent cold was all in his head this time.
At some point, he got that the others fully intended to show up too, but that was for future Stiles to think about. Right now, it was just Alex. He repeated that mantra as he opened the door the promised crack, and then a little more. It was just Alex. The silence stretched out between them until the words came tumbling out of his mouth without his say so. “I’m sorry.”
"Shut up. Just… shut up" were the first words out of Alex's mouth since he'd seen Stiles' post and exchanged a few rapid-fire messages. He didn't even tell his bandmates where he was going. They probably knew. His phone was buzzing in his pocket, alerting him to all the public messages being exchanged from the people he cared about. Right now, the rest of it went ignored. Stiles looked okay, looked like himself. Really, though, it was his eyes. Even hooded and shadowed as they were, they held a spark Alex hadn't realized was missing until finally seeing it again.
His scrutiny lasted maybe a second, and then Alex was moving, pulling the door wider and slipping inside so he could catch Stiles in a tight hug. (Of course, he'd watched for any sign whatsoever that Stiles didn't want this, because after what he'd been through, the last thing Alex wanted to do was force himself on him in any way.) "You're you."
Any other time, Stiles would have had a smart remark for someone telling him to shut up. But he didn’t really feel like he had the right in that moment. So he just stood there, looking back at Alex, trying to figure out what he was thinking, or what else he could say. He was drawing a complete blank, though.
But then Alex was moving, and before he had time for it to fully register he was being drawn into a hug. Surprise left him frozen at first. Of everything he’d been expecting, he wasn’t sure that had been it. Of course, given everything Alex (and Luke, and Reggie and…everyone else) had said, he knew it wasn’t fair to assume they’d assign guilt.
It was his words that broke the spell, though. Like maybe Alex had been expecting to see the Nogitsune standing there again, and Stiles reminded his stupid selfish brain he wasn’t the only one who’d been through this.
This thought process all took place in maybe a few seconds, and then he was returning the hug just as tightly, fingers grasping the material of Alex’s shirt where his arms wrapped around him. He took a second to just let himself feel something good. To be sharing a moment with someone who was genuinely one of the kindest people he’d met here. Not worrying about people being hurt, or worse. “Yeah,” he breathed, not knowing what else to say. “I’m me.”
A breath Alex wasn't even aware he was holding blew out of him in a shuddering exhale. It may have been a little bit of a sob, but a quiet one. And his cheeks were definitely wet when he finally (reluctantly) released Stiles and took a step back to give him breathing room. "I should have known," he blurted, even after he'd told himself he wouldn't talk about it. "That it wasn't you. I should have known. But he was so good at pretending— he, it, I don't know what to call… it. When he came to apologize, I just. I feel so stupid."
Seeing the remnants of tears on Alex’s face when he eventually stepped back did little for the guilt pressing down on his shoulders. “No,” he immediately denied, voice stronger now in his conviction. “If I don’t get to be sorry, neither do you. That’s - Alex, that’s what he did. Does. What it does,” he corrected, because he wasn’t wrong about that. It was an it. “You wouldn’t have had any way of knowing. Kitty only knew because, you know, werewolf.” He made a vague gesture with his hand as if to convey all that statement entailed.
“I’m just glad it wasn’t you he took. When he told me what happened…I couldn’t tell if he’d done something to you or not. He wouldn’t tell me. I was so worried.”
"He told you?" Not the point. Alex shook his head, lips pressing tight before he released another explosive breath. "I'm sor— S— Crap! I'm so bad at this. It's like my default to start apologizing. You've taken away my superpower." He laughed weakly, the start of his smile going away before it fully form. "It's, like, I didn't even know I was being played with until I realized who he—what it was. Like, I touched him—it, and I started feeling like something was wrong. And the way he smiled…"
Alex trailed off with a deep frown. "That word we're not supposed to say. Last thing you need or want is to rehash everything. All that matters is that you're here, and you're you. And—and I know you said you wanted to be alone, and I absolutely respect that, especially now, but for real you should probably not actually be that? Alone, I mean. And the Band—we were worried." Terrified, but maybe that was just him. "You could come with me? We won't even do anything. Just chill."
“Uh, yeah.” He rubbed the back of his neck when he answered, a nervous habit. “Goading is kind of his thing.” He kept slipping on the ‘it’ part but he didn’t think that was the most important thing to be worried about right now. Alex telling him he’d stolen his superpower, and actually smiling (even for a second) prompted the same from Stiles. Just a brief twitch of his lips in something that under normal circumstances might have formed into a laugh. Except then he got completely caught up on what Alex said next. “You touched him? Why would you -” It was a conscious effort that time to cut himself off, registering that his tone had taken on an unfairly impatient edge. “Sorry, pretend I didn’t say anything.”
Nodding slowly as Alex spoke again, he looked away, trying to gather his thoughts. The truth was, being alone right now terrified him. But he had no idea how to say that, let alone ask for help. Not when he couldn’t shake the idea this had all been his fault. But before Alex got to his door he’d been trying to convince Luke they didn’t need to come clean up his room, as if that was something they should have been doing for him. And Alex had wanted to see him just to reassure himself it was him. And he didn’t want to turn his back on that. “I don’t.” He finally admitted haltingly, back to avoiding eye contact. “Want to be alone.”
Guilt washed through him anew, and Alex actually winced as he looked to one side. Even though Stiles offered him an out, he still felt compelled to explain himself. "His phone. You're phone. We were gong to play music. It handed it to me, and our fingers— it was like half a second. It was like touching a ghost. And then it"—another breath, this one with his eyes closing against the memory—"it smiled." He hadn't been that scared since Caleb tried to tie them to the Hollywood Ghost Club. The Nogitsune was a million times worse. It had hurt people and liked it. "I knew I had to get out of there. I'm just surprised it let me, considering."
Hearing the quiet acceptance of his mess of an offer was all Alex needed to extend his hand and set the rest of it aside. Stiles needed friends more than he needed a rehash of recent events. Events Alex only knew in bits and pieces. He wasn't ready to tell his friend the rest, the way his stomach had fluttered when he'd thought he was talking to Stiles, or how utterly crestfallen when he realized it had never been him at all. "Yeah. Yeah, of course. I can text the others. We've got three apartments to choose from."
He seriously considered explaining exactly why the Nogitsune had probably let Alex walk out of there, but he had a point. Stiles really didn’t want to rehash everything any more than Alex probably wanted to hear about it. There were some things better left unsaid. And forgotten completely, if he had any say in it. Instead, he could just be glad things hadn’t been so much worse, like he’d told Pepper they could have been.
And then it was apparently as simple as that, despite Stiles’ current inability to form a declarative sentence. “I don’t want to stay here. He’s everywhere,” he admitted. He glanced back over his shoulder, mentally cataloguing that his phone and meds were in his pocket, as well as his keys (the jeep was the most important possession he had here, and so the keys were too by extension). With only another moments hesitation, he took the offered hand.
The physical contact zipped up his arm in a way that made Alex immediately compartmentalize it. Things were already weird and strained enough without him making it weirder and more strained. He'd been so caught up in the initial hug and the flood of relief that he only just realized he'd experienced the same problematic sensation then too. But since he was resolutely not thinking about it, it freed him up to simply close his fingers around Stiles' palm and pull him gently out the still open door. "He's not here," Alex assured his friend in low, even tones. "He's not with us. You're home now."
He appreciated that calm assurance more than he could say, because Stiles was feeling pretty far from calm right then. His mind was a constant whirlwind of thoughts on a good day, and right now he didn’t know what to focus on. The fact of everything that happened over the last few days, or how suddenly aware he was of the feel of Alex’s fingers wrapped around his and how much he liked the sensation. Which was a whole other new something to contend with. Shaking it off, he pulled the door shut behind him as they crossed the threshold. “I might need you to tell me that a few more times.”
Alex sent a flicker of a smile over at Stiles as he set their feet toward the apartment he shared with Luke and two badass adults. He'd send out word soon enough. Just needed to get them to Point B. "We'll make a song of it, the five of us. It'll be a total banger. You'll see." And then, just because he could, he started singing an improvised melody: "Yeah, you lost your home / don't know which way is up. / Yeah, we'll be here. / Your home away from home."
That same smile lifted the corner of his mouth as he registered the pleasant twist in his gut at the simple fact of Alex coming up with an impromptu part-of-a-song on the spot like that. “Catchy. I like it.” It was no wonder all of them were friends, with how alike they all were. Not everyone could just come up with something like that. He was feeling strangely off kilter, not used to so willingly sharing his need for reassurance, and then having that accepted without any sort of overt acknowledgement. He’d become so accustomed to being self-sufficient in this place he didn’t quite know how to just let his guard down and not feel weird about it.
"It's a start, maybe." Alex chuckled. "We'll see if it's actually a hook. Or maybe it can just be something for… us? For you and me." He didn't want to think about his conversation with the Nogitsune, where he'd told the honest truth about Julie and Luke being the lyrical powerhouses of the group. They all did their best to collaborate. They were at their best when they collaborated. Alex had always been content with 'Percussion and Vocals'; he didn't feel the need to expand that to include 'Music and Lyrics'.
Not that he was really thinking about any of that right at the moment. "Do you… want food or anything when we get there? I can see if Phil and Matt will order something. Or is this one of those things where you don't really want to think very much at all?"
Too many ridiculous thoughts to name hit him at that question, and it probably took him way too long to acknowledge that Alex had actually asked a question. Which meant he was expecting a response. Stiles was really failing at the whole communication thing today. He finally offered him a crooked smile. “I’m happy to be selfish and keep a Mercer original to myself.”
The simple thought of whether or not he wanted food should not have been so complicated. For some stupid reason it made him think of Mrs Yukimura, offering him chamomile tea, after the Nogitsune had been split from him. He could remember her deadpan response when he’d asked if it was some kind of magic tea. “I might have something later?” He settled on. “Honestly, not thinking right now sounds pretty good.” He’d been trying and failing at it before. But maybe it would be different not being alone, knowing someone else had his back for a while.
Stiles' response threatened to leave him giddy, but Alex had enough situational awareness to know that know was not the time. His own answering smile slipped out before he could claw it back, but he only ducked his head a little after and sobered. Tiny drops of nice moments in an ocean of suck. That's all they were. He glanced over at Stiles, but shied away from trying to imagine what he was thinking—or what he'd been through. There was no way he had enough life experience to start, but especially not the variety Stiles had had growing up.
Still, it didn't keep him from bumping Stiles' shoulder lightly and saying, "We'll throw on some Mario Kart or a no-thinking movie. Order a bunch of curly fries and eat ourselves stupid with Oreos and any other snacks we can get our hands on."
“I guess I must casually mention curly fries in every other conversation or something,” he joked, a little surprised by the suggestion. He had a vague recollection of their very first conversation, and suggesting the first things he’d be eating (as a recently returned lifer like Alex had been), would be the pie from the corner, and curly fries. Probably some Reese’s too, if he had to choose.
“Can you eat Oreos dude? Or is there nothing at all resembling actual dairy in those things?” It was actually nice, talking about something as arbitrary as food choices. It helped him not think about all the things he was trying so hard not to.
Alex put a hand to his heart and breathed in dramatically. "I'm very willing to suffer when it comes to Oreos. The lactose content in them is so scant it might as well be negligible. And you don't actually talk abut curly fries, I just… I remembered." Heat flashed through his face, and he hastily looked away. He remembered the pie, too. This. Was. Not. The. Time. "Like, if I got to the point where I couldn't eat them, I'd cry harder than I did over the loss of peanut butter. Allergies suck!"
“Thank God for small mercies. No one should be denied Oreos.” In the grand scheme of things, it was probably actually pretty trivial, but right now Stiles didn’t care. The fact that he wasn’t the only one who’d remembered the pie and curly fries conversation was a nicer thought than it probably should have been. He was going to put it down to the fact that right now he was kind of struggling, and someone being nice to him on any level was a bit of a life line.
“No peanut butter is rough. But at least you can have almond butter, right? Or cashew butter or something?” He tried to switch out his dad’s peanut butter for almond once when he’d read about it being healthier, but his dad wasn’t having a bar of it.
With a brief, rueful laugh, Alex shook his head. "I'm afraid to disappoint us both, but it's all nuts. And why I'm always carrying this bag." He patted the strap that hung across his chest. "It's funny how very the-same Epipens still are. Never leave home without it. Fortunately, it's only if I eat it. It's not like I had to turn the whole school into a nut-free campus. I just have to be really careful with ingredients and stuff. Totally helpful for my anxiety, if you can believe it."
“Damn, that is rough.” He was pretty sure peanut allergies were pretty common, but he didn’t know about all-nut allergies. Now he sort of wanted to read up on it. When Alex said it was helpful for his anxiety, he couldn’t quite stop the short laugh. “Sorry. I can’t even imagine. It’s bad enough worrying about someone else’s diet, and he doesn’t even have any allergies. Just an addiction to saturated fats.” And didn’t half the packets in the store say ‘may contain traces of nuts’ anyway? That would drive him crazy. “So, Oreos. And curly fries from potatoes that grew up far from the nuts. What else do you like?”
They were almost to his and Luke's (and Phil and Matt's) apartment, and Alex found himself slowing down a little. Soon they would be surrounded by people who loved Stiles, and that was so so so important. Alex just wasn't sure if that would mean he'd have to let go. And he wasn't quite ready for that. Which was so selfish, it wasn't funny. "Burgers, pretty much all safe-for-me carbs. Lots of vegan stuff. If you've never had roasted cauliflower or brussel's sprouts, you are totally missing out. I can make some of that stuff around our kitchen, but we're pretty reliant on takeout in the Badass Band apartment—a name that also applies to Julie and Reggie's apartment, by the way. It's not the best nickname."
“I really like cauliflower. I don’t know if that was just sheer willpower on my part to make my dad eat it. Brussel sprouts I’ve cooked a grand total of one time and they did not turn out edible.” The smell had lingered in the kitchen for ages. “But burgers I love. Vegan food for me is pretty much limited to vegetables, honestly. Oh and that macaroni and cheese you recommended from that place. It was pretty good.” Better than he’d been expecting by a long shot.
He felt Alex slowing, and looking up at the approaching door numbers, realized why. Stopping, he waited until he had his attention. “Before we go in there with the Oreos and people and stuff - thanks. I know I’m really subtle and everything,” because when could he avoid sarcasm, “but I’m really not that good at asking for help. So, I appreciate it.”
Alex sent Stiles another tiny smile, already building a menu in his head for the dinner party he'd just decided to host if he could clear it with Phil and Matt. Or maybe it was better to make it a potluck so not all the cooking would be on him, especially since around here the guest list was likely to explode. Other than the cursed food recently, he couldn't really remember the last time they'd had any kind of community meal. Whatever. Future plans. Hopefully.
It took Stiles stopping to make him do the same. He looked down at their hands, then immediately back up in time to catch the full weight of his sincerity. Alex's eyes began to sting, but he blinked the threat of tears back and instead gave his friend a wobbly smile. "Hey, you never have to ask. We can come up with some kind of word or signal, and I'll—one or all of us will be right here by your side. Whenever, wherever."
The earnestness behind that smile was going to kill him. He seriously didn’t think he’d ever met anyone who wore their heart on their sleeve quite like Alex did. Not to mention the way he could just come out with a completely genuine offer like that, even in the face of Stiles’ persistent sarcasm. “Well, I’ve always been partial to smoke signals. Maybe interpretive dance? We could train a pigeon…”
Alex squeezed his hand and said in all sincerity (while also totally going for a laugh), "Have I told you how much I love to dance?"
The squeeze of his hand was enough of a jolt to his system it cut him off before he launched into an absurd list of options as they sprung to mind. “Oh yeah? Well, the last time I danced there was too much vodka involved if that gives you any indication. At least I think it was vodka.” Actually, he’d danced once since then, with Lydia. But that was firmly in the not-thinking-about-it list.
"I mean, if I can come up with a song for you on the fly, how hard can the Interpretive Help Me Dance be? I'll make it something simple, even. Maybe just a little hip shimmy." And then of course Alex demonstrated, because sometimes he just couldn't help himself. He laughed, then tugged their hands toward the apartment again. "We'll figure something out. Now, c'mon. You've got more than just me who wants to help tonight."
That little move made Stiles laugh again, though it was a more genuine sound than it had been earlier. Apparently heart on sleeve extended to impromptu dance moves too, who knew. “How many songs do you have going on in there at once, anyway?” He didn’t protest the move towards the apartment, though he couldn’t stop the slight apprehension at the thought of suddenly being around more people.
"In my head or in the apartment? Because the answer to both is… not a small number." Alex smiled at Stiles again, but he could sense a minute hesitation in the other. "Hey, I know you're not wanting to do a lot of thinking, but if it gets to be too much, we can absolutely go chill in m—Luke's room for as long as you want."
“That sounds about right.” When Alex managed to read him like an open book all over again, he did his best to shake off the feeling. Since when had he been so transparent? “Thanks. No, I’m good. This is better.”
"You're the boss." Alex paused a little. "For now. Don't let it get to your head."
He snorted, a poor attempt at holding back a laugh. “I’ll try. But no promises. You opened this can of worms, dude.”
"I can work with worms. I'm a big fan of the way they move." Alex gave another ridiculous wiggle, then tugged Stiles' hand and led him inside. The fact that he'd managed to get a smile, let alone a laugh after everything sang like a sweet victory in his veins.
Stiles shook his head, still closer to laughing than anything else. “I’m fully prepared to be the one to tell you that isn’t something to aspire to, Alex. I’m okay with being that person.” Either way, it had distracted him from the unease he was feeling, and he followed him inside.