Michael Alton (affect) wrote in shadows_rpg, @ 2018-05-16 13:21:00 |
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Entry tags: | #october 2017, alex, alex x mike, mike |
Who: Alex & Mike
Where: Alex's apartment, Castle View
When: Sunday afternoon 10/22
Status: Complete
Warning: Alcohol, drugs
In all honesty, Mike hadn't been expecting Alex to call him, ever. He'd been almost sure it was one of those typical human interactions where people said they should totally meet up and then never did. It was somewhat of a pleasant surprise when he did call and Mike was always up for a drink or two; or more, depending on the occasion. He agreed to meet at Alex's place since he wanted to tell him some weird conspiracy theory shit and probably didn't want to do it in public. For the fuck of it, he brought some weed too because conspiracy theories were a lot more fun and believable when he was stoned. He parked outside of Alex's apartment and double checked the address he'd written down before heading to the door and knocking, hoisting his backpack up higher on his shoulder.
After their meeting at the museum, Alex had always intended to call Mike but when he intended to do that hadn't been clear. In his mind, he'd definitely planned to do it before the Halloween gig that Mike had invited him to but that really only left the week prior and he wasn't sure that he would be ready to tell the story Mike wanted. That had been until Sunday morning during his weekly visit to his mother's grave. He hadn't seen anything and nothing had even happened but it had been a strange, spooky atmosphere he couldn't just put down to being a cemetery. That plus news of an Amber Alert for a missing child had been enough to remind him the town’s secrets needed to be uncovered, needed to be shared. So Alex had finally called Mike. Partly because he'd promised and he wanted to talk about what he knew with somebody who was probably unknowingly involved but definitely because the creepy happenings had put him on edge and he didn't feel like being alone.
Alex was sitting on the couch flicking between the channels, the TV on mute, when Mike arrived. He was expecting him but still jumped as the sound of the knock interrupted the silence. He switched the TV off and jumped up, quickly opening the door with a smile. “Hey! Come in, come in. How are you?”
"Thanks," Mike said as he stepped inside. "I'm good, how are you? I brought booze, as agreed upon." He shrugged his shoulder to let Alex hear the soft clanking of bottles in his backpack. "No idea what you like drinking though so if you don't like it then tough shit." He grinned a little and peeked inside. "Shoes off?" He did have friends who lived in places where he wouldn't take his shoes off if he was paid for it so it was a fair question. His room had a strict policy of leaving shoes outside the door but it was so varied.
Alex glanced down at his own socked feet and shrugged. He didn't have any rules about it either way for guests. “Whatever you want.” He stepped aside to make room for Mike and peeked out of the doorway. He didn't expect anybody to be there but after he'd heard about Neil's place being broken into, it had become a habit. He probably wasn't on anybody’s radar but he could always keep an eye out, just in case. If not for him, then for the one who definitely was being watched. “So what are we drinking? I'm easy, by the way.”
"Really?" Mike said and arched a brow suggestively as he looked Alex over. "That's good to know." He grinned then and kicked off his sneakers before shrugging the backpack off his shoulder. "I brought Smirnoff and beer. I'm sure we can mix it up into something fancy if you have soda and fruits but hey, if you're easy..." He made his way into Alex's apartment, looking around a little bit curiously. He wasn't sure what he'd been expecting but at first glance it didn't look like a conspiracy theory nut lived there, no huge maps with strings and pictures pinned all over the place, nothing out of the ordinary.
“Vodka is good.” Alex missed the innuendo in the joke, not used to guys flirting so heavily with him. Or anybody, really, but he had a little experience at least. He followed Mike's gaze around the apartment and suddenly became aware of just how bare it was. There was enough furniture that it didn't look like a crack den and a lot of it was good quality, dark wood passed down from his grandparents when they died instead of the cheap Ikea stuff that most 20-somethings had in their first apartment but there wasn't much heart. The only pictures he kept up were on his dresser in the bedroom and everything else was purely practical, no knick-knacks or little collections on shelves. Even his books and DVDs were minimal on a small shelf by the large TV. He'd come with what he needed and hadn't felt the need to add much else to it. Even his usual pile of magazines and papers had been cleared from the coffee table after Mike had accepted his invite. It made him feel lonely to realise how little he truly had left; no family and no real connections in Point Pleasant. Yet. There was still time to change that.
“I've got coke and maybe a lemon or two,” he said, breaking the silence. “Make yourself at home.” He gestured towards the couch then headed in towards the kitchen. He fetched glasses and gathered the other ingredients, a knife and chopping board and it wasn't long before he was back with everything precariously balanced. He set everything down carefully then sat on the couch, on the edge so he could unpile everything. “What do you want to start with, beer or Smirnoff?”
"Beer," Mike replied, busying himself with putting the bottles on the table. He'd come straight from home so they were all still cold. "Do you indulge in other stuff?" he asked as he cracked open one of the beer bottles and got comfortable on the couch next to Alex, leaving some room between them for it not to be weird. "A little pot here and there?" He took a gulp of his beer, still watching Alex curiously.
Once everything was laid out, Alex grabbed a bottle of beer and settled deep into the couch as he opened it and took a drink. He flicked the top towards the coffee table but it bounced and rolled off the edge. He sighed. “Dammit. Oh well, I'll get it later.” He stretched his legs out and looked across at Mike. “Yeah, actually I do. I don't have any though. I used to use my mom's, she had it for medical reasons.”
"Yeah?" Mike murmured curiously. "I've got some if you want." He reached for the bag again and brought the little bag out, waving it at Alex. "So what does she smoke it for?" It might be an abrupt question but Alex had bombarded him with weird questions the first time they met so he felt somewhat entitled to turn it around on him.
Alex laughed and gestured to the small table in front of them. “Set it up then. I'm happy to share your stuff.” At the question of his mother, he looked away then turned back with a thin smile. He didn't mind the question but wasn't sure how to answer it. He didn't want to ruin the mood with a sad story straight off the bat. “Uh, depression mostly. I'm not sure if it really helped much with the rest of the stuff she had going on but… Well, she's actually the cause of that conspiracy theory I told you about. If you still want to hear it anyway.”
Mike started preparing the pipe but he kept glancing at Alex to suss out his reaction. "That's what I'm here for," he said with a little nod though he was also there for the company. "What happened to her?" he added, focusing on the weed again. Alex wasn't really talking like she was still around though he hadn't come right out and said she was dead.
“She died,” Alex said. He didn't want to outright say she killed herself and he blamed himself for leaving her for the afternoon but he couldn't pretend she was still alive either. He decided it was safer to move the conversation along quickly. “Actually, I went to the cemetery earlier today to see her and it was weird. It was like something was watching me, more than usual and I don't just mean those roaming angels. It felt like… I don't know what. Like some kind of energy was building and I wasn't welcome. So I didn't stay long.”
"Oh, she's buried here?" Mike asked before remembering Alex was in town to research family history so that made sense. "Sorry for your loss," he tacked on. The subject of death was always weird to him and he hated it when people got weepy about it so he was glad Alex didn't seem to be overly emotional - at least not yet. Reaching for his lighter he shuffled in place until he was sitting crosslegged with his feet up on the couch cushion. "Cemeteries are pretty creepy, especially ours, all those damn statues. Don't worry about it too much."
Alex watched Mike working the pipe and waited patiently for his turn. He'd never used one before but it looked straightforward enough. “I used to track those statues,” Alex admitted. “I wrote down where they were each time I went just to make sure I wasn't turning crazy too.” He shivered. “I hate them.”
Mike gave him a somewhat skeptical look before catching himself. He had promised to believe at least 50% tonight, even if that cemetery thing wasn't a part of the story. "Guy who works there is pretty weird but he sells good weed so-" he murmured, trailing off to light the pipe and inhale deeply. He passed the pipe over to Alex then, holding the smoke in for a few seconds as he watched him. He really did look a lot like him, Terry wasn't wrong. It was probably narcissistic to think he was good looking but Mike didn't give a shit. "Story time," he murmured as he exhaled, grabbing his beer off the table.
Alex laughed at Mike's expression. He couldn't blame him. If he hadn't actively written them down, he would still be wondering if crazy delusions were genetic. He still wasn't quite sure they weren't but as long as he had proof, however flimsy to anybody else, he felt safe. And it felt good to finally have somebody to share with. He hadn't realised how much he'd needed to let it out until he'd opened his mouth. He took the pipe and held the smoke in as he considered where to start. He let it out in a slow sigh and leaned back against the couch. “So… Where to start? Okay, so, have you ever heard of MK Ultra? It was a CIA codename for all these experiments with LSD in the 60s. The government wanted super soldiers or a way to wipe out other armies without too much cost to theirs. On the surface, they said it didn't accomplish much but then all these rumours started leaking about unlocking special abilities, X-Men style. Only they weren't the only ones to do it. Private businesses got in on it too, I'm not sure why but I can imagine… You ever hear of the American Institute of Research?”
"Not really," Mike replied with a little shrug. The whole thing was outside of his scope of interest and he generally didn't waste much time on things that did that. "You saying there's still a brainwashing LSD type of thing going on? And your mom was part of it?" He reached over for the pipe and made sure not to look skeptical. 50%, he could do that. The bit about the MKUltra program was at least true, crazy people in the fifties.
“Well, not quite. I mean, I don't think it was just LSD. From what I saw…” Alex cut himself off as he realised he'd skipped a huge chunk of what was needed to make sense. He frowned, his eyes on the blank TV in front of him as he considered how to word it without sounding crazy. Well, not too much. He had a feeling a little was unavoidable. “Okay. So. Those abilities and things? They happened, the experiments worked, at least some of the time but I guess some kids didn't show them right away so they wiped their memories and gave them back. So my mom, she was one of those kids in the late 70s. She went missing then came back with no clue what happened to her but she was back so my grandparents didn't ask too many questions. Life went on. Then she had me and we both almost died. She swore that was what started it.” He paused to take a drink of beer and glanced over at Mike before he looked away again. ”And I know how this is going to sound so don't even but soon after that she was, I don't know what you'd call it. It was like sleepwalking but in dreams, dreamwalking? I used to think it was normal to share dreams until I told somebody and they said it wasn't her, it was just me imagining her.”
"Your mom went missing as a kid," Mike said as he tried to wrap his brain around Alex's somewhat disjointed story. "How do you know you weren't just dreaming, or imagining her?" This was actually more interesting than ghost stories because it was the kind of tale he could buy into, at least partially. The human brain was crazy weird and he didn't pretend to understand how it all worked. "Did she tell you your dreams or something?" He took another hit of the pipe though he had a feeling he wouldn't be needing much tonight.
“Sorry, I know it doesn't make much sense. I've never really had to put it together before, it's always just been the way it was. I didn't have a dad so it was just me and her.” Alex waited until Mike had finished his turn of the pipe before he reached across to take another hit too. He handed it back before he continued. “You know, I never thought about how I knew it was her but I just knew. I've dreamed of her since she died and it's not the same. She's… fuzzier, I guess. When it was really her, everything was clear like she was standing right in front of me but in my dreams, my real dreams, it's different. Her hair might be an old style she used to have or she's wearing things she never owned. It's hard to explain but it's different. Anyway, whatever they did to her really messed her up mentally too. She'd have these episodes, these periods where she couldn't get out of bed or would just cry all the time. Or maybe it wasn't even them, maybe that was just inevitable… I don't know, I've never thought about that before.” He trailed off as he considered that.
If Mike could only believe a fraction of Alex's story, this would be it. He pursed his lips as he listened, trying to imagine what it would be like growing up with a mother like that. He could relate, he had plenty of his own depressive episodes but he hadn't had to deal with other people with the same problem. It wasn't really a position that was enviable. A lot of people went missing in Point Pleasant, a little girl had gone missing just earlier that day so it was easy to fall into the conspiracy trap and think maybe she was locked up somewhere being experimented on until she too could visit dreams or whatever. "So you're back here to find out who took her?" he asked and some part of his brain that was still unaffected by the weed made a mental note he'd likely forget: Look up Alex's mother and see if she'd really gone missing as a kid.
Alex nodded. “I am. I tell people the book thing because it's easier to explain why I want to look up all this weird stuff, like the facility she was in and stuff. It burned down years ago so finding anything is pretty hard but I know a lot from what she showed me, in here,” he said with a gesture towards his brain. “See, she started learning how to change the dreams she was in and she didn't always control it well. I guess if she was asleep too, her subconscious would sneak in and all those memories they'd tried to wipe were still there, just waiting to come out. It took me ages to figure out what was happening and it wasn't until she died that I even put together that it was real. I thought it was just her dreams, you know. Really messed up ones where kids got hurt or tested or worse. I saw some really messed up experiments.”
Mike wasn't sure how his percentages were going anymore, he believed some of what Alex said and he definitely believed Alex believed all of it, but how much of it had any ground in reality was anybody's guess. "Have you seen anything in real life to back up the stuff you saw in her dreams?" he asked. "Or could it be that it was just... dreams? I'm not saying it was but, could it be?"
“A little,” Alex said with a slow nod. He wondered just how much to reveal about why he was so interested in befriending Mike but decided to keep that to himself for now. It would have sounded ridiculous and he wasn't even sure if he believed it was anything more than a coincidence since he'd never actually seen Mike - Mike's dad - in the facility. For all he knew, it could have just been memories of Ashley, the guy she claimed was his father. Though that didn't explain why Mike looked so much like him. “And I found a guy I'm sure was there too but he won't actually come out and admit it. I went to the library a while back asking for anything about the hospital because, well, it felt like a hospital and he showed me this other place, the AIR facilities which used to be here. The guy in the photo was so familiar, I was positive it was him so I asked the guy what happened there and he got really cagey, like he knew more than he was letting on… He's paranoid, he thinks I'm working for them but I can't blame him. Not really. I'd try to keep people quiet too if I was playing Doctor Evil.” Alex realised that probably wasn't enough proof and he wished he'd had more, something solid to be convincing but he didn't.
“Anyway that scientist I saw in the photo, he worked there and he was, I don't know exactly but he was there. He gave orders, watched sometimes, that kind of thing. And I found proof my mom was kidnapped when they said she was. She'd had a fight with her dad so it's just a small article about my grandmother begging for any information about where she'd gone and to come home. They thought she'd just run away, I guess.”
Mike had to wonder if the guy Alex was talking about was really paranoid and cagey because he knew something or because someone came around asking strange questions. "You got me all curious now," he admitted. "About Air, what did you say it was called? American Institution?" It seemed weird if they operated in such a small town but maybe they did because it was a small town with a small police force and a weird history that had some of the people there jaded. "You said it burned down?"
“The American Institute of Research, they opened in the mid-70s.” Alex glanced over at the bookshelf. There were photocopies of what he could gather but he was annoyed he hadn’t thought to take any photos of the microfilm. He’d been too shocked by how Neil had responded that he hadn’t thought of it at the time. “Then they burned down in… I think it was around 2000. From what I can tell, there’s a building there again now though. I went out to have a look because, I don’t know what I was expecting but it definitely looked open again so I didn’t go in.”
"Well, shit," Mike muttered, idly picking at the label on his bottle as he thought it over. "A little girl went missing today, maybe you should call in a lead, tell them to search that building." If it was true - and the world was pretty crazy so it might just be - then the people at the institute were in the habit of taking kids so maybe they had taken this girl too, now that they were back up and running. "I mean, it can't hurt, can it?"
The idea that AIR was somehow connected to the Lucas Girl’s disappearance had already occurred to Alex but the idea of reporting it as a possible lead hadn’t. “Who would believe me?” he finally asked. “I know I wouldn’t. I always just thought my mom was crazy until I found out she’d actually gone missing and started to look into it more. Besides, they’ve probably got enough money to cover it up. Don’t all the best conspiracies have that?”
"Anonymous tip," Mike suggested with a shrug. "I wouldn't call them and tell them my name, not if you're worried about that institute tracking you down." It was just an idea, maybe even a bad one, but if Alex truly believed AIR was responsible for kidnapping kids in the past it made sense they might be suspect today. "Who's that other guy you talked to? The paranoid one?"
“Neil,” Alex answered automatically without thinking about it. If he had, he would have seen how answering that was a bad idea but he was stoned and there was something about Mike that made him feel like he’d known him all his life which made it easier to trust him. “But I doubt he’d help back me up at all, even anonymously.”
One name didn't tell Mike much but that was okay, he didn't know anyone very well with that name. "Well, if you need help sleuthing I've got nothing better to do," he murmured because what the hell, it could be fun. Even if none of it was true it was a way to pass the time and feel like he was actually doing something cool for a little bit, something other than playing music and having sex.
“That actually sounds good. Thank you.” The idea of help didn’t sound like a bad one at all and he smiled at Mike over the top of the bottle before he took a drink. He liked that Mike had kept his promise and at least pretended to believe him, though he somehow knew it wasn’t just an act to placate him. Whether that would stay tomorrow was another thing. “I’d love to make them pay for what they did but knowing she wasn’t schizophrenic or something would probably be enough.”
"Did you think she was?" Mike asked. "I mean, other than the dream thing and the depression, did she seem sick? Delusional and everything?" Wasn't schizophrenia genetic? He felt like he'd heard that somewhere and if that was the case he and Alex might be in a similar boat, not the same one since schizophrenia wasn't about to kill Alex but it was still a pretty shitty hand to be dealt.
“It’s… complicated,” Alex said slowly. The rest of the situation made sense to him but his mother’s mental health never had. She had symptoms and she had seen a whole team of psychiatrists over his lifetime and probably even earlier but he’d never been included on any of the details. He was a kid and even though he saw it every day, nobody had ever wanted to include him as if keeping him in the dark made it invisible. “Maybe not schizophrenia, I don’t know, but when she was really bad, she started astral travelling around the apartment. So she’d be asleep in her room or on the couch but I’d see her walking around and reacting to her dreams but I couldn’t see them.” He frowned at the memories. It had been terrifying the first time it had happened and every time since. “At least when I was in her dreams, I could help her but this was something different and sometimes she got violent. She’d be fighting somebody I couldn’t see but I’d see where they hurt her. Cuts. Bruises. I don’t even know what they thought they were doing….” He pursed his lips together and sighed. “And in two months, she was dead. So I blame them but for a long time, I didn’t know. Nobody had told me she’d been taken until some great aunt I barely knew mentioned it at the funeral and I started to wonder if there was more to it. So I looked up where she grew up and saw all the crime figures and thought it might be worth it. I needed a change anyway so… here I am.”
That was a lot to take in but Mike believed him. It was probably the weed causing it but Alex seemed very sincere and troubled by it so it had to be true. Or at least Alex believed it was true. "So you saw her when you were awake too?" he asked. "Shit..." He couldn't imagine what it would have been like growing up with a mom who was sick. That could have been his reality but he'd gotten lucky - or not lucky since his mom couldn't afford meds but at least he'd been adopted by good people. He finished his beer and grabbed a couple of fresh ones from his
backpack, offering one to Alex. "So it was just you and her? No grandparents or anything?"
“Thanks.” Alex set his empty bottle onto the coffee table before he took the one Mike offered him. He cracked the lid and took a sip before he answered. The glass was still cool and reassuringly real beneath his finger tips. It was grounding. “Dead too,” he said easily. He wasn’t as caught up about their death as his mother. The grief wasn’t as raw as for his mother. “It happened about ten years ago. They died five months apart. Nan had a heart attack then Pa just missed her too much and went in his sleep.” At least, that was what he’d been told and he hadn’t ever thought to ask exactly what had caused it. He still didn’t really want to know. “I told you this was better than something that happened to some campfire urban legend.”
Mike nodded and gave him a wan smile. "Better than a ghost story," he murmured. "And I believe at least sixty percent." More than promised, maybe even more than that. Math was hard and not really applicable to situations like these. Could belief be quantified? Mike doubted it. "So you keep losing people," he murmured. "Might not wanna get too close to me then, I probably won't live past thirty." It was a morbid thing to say but hell if the guy didn't deserve a fair warning. Mike liked him so far and there was no telling which people ended up getting close. Mike definitely didn't like getting close in general but sometimes it just happened.
“I think sixty beats my goal. I’d have been happy with forty.” Alex laughed but that quickly died as Mike continued speaking. That didn’t sound good. “Why, you trying to join the 27 Club? I think it only counts if you’re actually famous.” It was easier to make a joke of it than actually consider real possibility of what Mike meant. Besides, he thought as he looked Mike over carefully, he didn’t look sick.
"Hey, I'm working on it," Mike protested playfully though he wasn't working particularly hard. He always thought his little band could go far with the right contacts and more work but they tended to get caught up in other shit. Like his stupid mood swings and painful episodes. "Still have six years, don't underestimate me." He took another sip of his beer and thought he really should be used to this by now. In a way he was, it was other people dealing with it that never got easy, nobody liked hearing sad shit like that. "Reiner's Syndrome," he murmured after swallowing. "I'm that lucky one out of millions."
Alex nodded and took a drink to buy himself a moment to figure out the right thing to say. He’d heard of Reiner’s Syndrome, vaguely, and although he couldn’t remember the details, he knew it usually didn’t have a good prognosis. “Well…” he said slowly as he decided it was easier to skip over it entirely. He doubted Mike would want to dwell and he probably got treated like the ‘sick kid’ enough already. He looked across at Mike with a small, teasing grin. “I guess that answers my next question about how old you are. Me too. April 28th. You?”
Mike burst out laughing. "Fuck you," he said on reflex. "You're fucking with me, right?" Had Alex found out his birthday somehow? A good stalker would find a way and he had joked about him stalking him. "That's my birthday. I'm gonna need to see some ID." He tried to say that with a serious face, like a cop or something, but he was still laughing so that was hard and he was definitely feeling the effects of the weed which made this even weirder.
“No, no way, you’re a shit liar.” Alex laughed. It was such a lame joke to claim he had the same birthday that it had to be real so to save time, he leaned over to grab his wallet from a side table beside the couch. He opened it up and handed his licence to Mike. “Ignore the bed hair, I didn’t actually think I’d pass.”
"Aww you look cute though," Mike snickered before reading the itty bitty text and shaking his head. "Oh man this is so fucked up, is this some kinda prank? Did my dad hire you?" He handed the card back and reached for his phone, getting his own ID out of the wallet phone case. "So I guess you are my doppelganger. Or evil twin maybe? I should probably not be this close to you." Wasn't that a doppelganger myth? Don't get too close or something bad will happen?
“I’d be the good twin, thank you very much.” Alex took Mike’s ID from his hands before he was even offered and stared at it. Same birthday. That was some Parent Trap shit. Especially since Mike didn’t know who his biological relatives were. If Alex hadn’t looked so much like his mother that it was impossible to deny their shared genetics, he might have wondered if he was adopted too. “I don’t see it, personally, besides the hair. I’m better looking though.”
"Yes you're very pretty," Mike said dryly before grinning again. He didn't really see it either but Terry had and he did know there were some similarities. "Welcome to Point Pleasant where weird shit happens," he murmured, raising his bottle in a little toast before drinking up. It was weird but he was enjoying it at the moment because weird was kind of a standard thing when he was stoned. Weird and fun and probably a little mystical.
Alex laughed at the compliment and raised his own bottle back to Mike before he took a drink too. He didn’t often hear that he was ‘pretty’ and probably would have chosen a different adjective but he was stoned and it felt nice to be complimented. It had been a long time since anyone had paid him attention, even if he wasn’t sure he was interested in returning it. “So let me ask you something and I hope it’s not too personal but… are you gay? I just ask because you’re kind of… I don’t know.” He shrugged and gestured with a limp wrist then laughed. “Sorry, I don’t know how to describe it.”
"Flirty?" Mike suggested helpfully and nodded, still grinning. "Equal opportunist. I figure I have very little time to kill so I might as well get my kicks where I can." He raised his bottle to drink but paused right as the glass touched his lips. "Does it bother you?" he asked with a quirked eyebrow, then drank.
“No, of course not,” Alex said quickly. He wasn’t disturbed by it but he didn’t know how to explain that being flirted with by a guy was a new feeling. He was scared that anything he said trying to would come out homophobic. He took a drink then smiled at Mike. “You do you.”
"Oh I do," Mike replied with a grin as he studied Alex's face, trying to read him for a moment. "Probably shouldn't flirt with you though, on the off chance that we're actually twins or something." He was somewhat amused to realize he didn't care if he accidentally fucked some biological relative out there, it wasn't like he fucking knew any of those people related to his biological parents so it wouldn't be his fault. It just didn't seem like a big deal to someone living in the moment. "I'm guessing you're straight anyway."
“Yeah, I… I don't know, actually,” Alex admitted quietly and the idea struck him as funny so he laughed. He'd never given it enough thought and the few opportunities he'd had with girls had been one night stands, if it even got that far. While most of his peers lost their virginity in high school, he hadn't even had sex until college. His mother had just been too protective for reasons that were obvious now. “But trust me, we can't be twins. I think I'd know if I had a brother.” He studied Mike's hairline for a moment then added, “Even if you do have my real hair colour.”
"You don't know," Mike echoed, amused. "Did you just never think about it or did you never make up your mind?" The latter screamed bisexual, the former screamed straight. "Plenty of opportunities to experiment if you're ever curious." It went without saying Mike would help him out but he wasn't the only one. People were getting more open about sexualities, admitting more to it being less rigid than just straight vs. gay. Mike had been with some 'straight' guys from school back in the day. They still defined themselves as straight but they had a little experience anyway.
“Just never thought about it,” Alex admitted with a shrug. The idea had probably crossed his mind when he was younger but it had never stayed. He’d grown up amongst people who were relaxed enough about the idea though and if the right guy came along… But Mike wasn’t it, he thought as he looked him over. There was no deep spark that hit inside like he thought he would need. He shifted on the couch to get more comfortable and inadvertently shifted a little bit further away from Mike as he did. “So you’re bisexual? Does that mean you have one of each?”
"One of each what?" Mike asked hesitantly, furrowing his brows as he tried to suss out if Alex was joking or if he really was asking him what being bisexual really meant. The first thing that came to mind was if he was asking whether he was intersex or something but that couldn't be it. He noted that subtle distancing and would have dropped the subject if not for that very strange question.
“Partners, you know, a boy and a girl…” Alex said. His brows knitted together as he tried to understand what was confusing about that, unaware that Mike’s thoughts were heading in a completely different direction to his own. “Isn’t that kind of greedy?”
Mike watched him for a few seconds, then he laughed. "Dude are you being serious right now?" he asked and groaned, reaching up to rub his face with one hand. "No that's... that's like poly, which is totally fine by the way if you want to have more than one girlfriend or boyfriend but no, bisexual just means... You like both. Either." He shook his head and grinned at Alex. "I'd love to have a handful of each to be honest, I don't want to be somebody's one and only, it sounds like a lot of pressure."
“Sorry, I didn’t know…” Alex shrugged as his cheeks brightened a little in embarrassment. Apparently that wasn’t the right question to ask but he had never really known anybody openly gay - or bi - and never had the chance to find out how it all worked. At most, the gay kids he knew at school had always seemed a lot more flamboyant and stereotypical compared to Mike. Even if he did call him pretty. “I don’t think I could do it either, not right now anyway. I’ve got too much going on.”
"Yeah you do," Mike replied and that was a much more interesting topic at the moment so he was more than fine with ditching the obviously embarrassing topic of bisexuality. "What's your next move? You have any plans?" he asked and had to wonder if there was any way to expose a conspiracy that big - if there even was one. "They might not like you poking around if they're really as big as you say."
“Yeah, I've thought of that,” Alex said as he thought of Neil. He had thought he was crazy at first but the deeper his own investigations went, the more he understood why. They seemed impossibly big, too big to really expose, but he had to try. ”I guess I'll make that anonymous tip when you go and then, I don't know, I guess I'll just keep looking for some proof my mom was there.”
"Have you tried tracking down people who knew her back then?" Mike asked, wracking his brain to think of ways he'd go about trying to find out something like that. "I don't know, old teachers or someone who might remember when she went missing. Maybe someone who used to work for the institute but quit for some weird reasons." Oh yes, he was getting into the conspiracy theory mood now.
Alex furrowed his brow as he considered these suggestions. The plan of finding old connections had never developed because he'd figured they would, at most, confirm she was taken but not by whom. The staff one had but he hadn't had any luck tracking down specific names of employees. “Where would you find records like that? I've been using the library but there's only so much they have on record…”
"We should break into the institute," Mike said with a little grin. "Go through their files." He wasn't completely serious though the pot and alcohol definitely made it seem more reasonable and doable. "But no wait, the old one burned down so they probably wouldn't have files... Talk to old people in town, see what they remember. When in the seventies was this?"
“79, she was found again in 82.” Alex's mind was still on the idea of breaking into the institute and even though he knew it was probably impossible on a practical level, maybe taking a trip inside could help find… Something. He didn't even know what but it couldn't hurt. “What if we posed as, I don't know, college students looking for info about behavioral sciences? They study kids with ADHD and stuff so we could get a foot in the door then ask about all the other, weird brain stuff.”
"That might work if we lived in a big city," Mike replied. "But here? The odds of someone not recognizing us are pretty bad." If he thought for a second his mother would indulge him in weird conspiracy theories he might ask her to have a look. She knew so many doctors and scientists through all her work and conferences she might have a better chance of sneaking a peek. He could just imagine the look on her face if he even asked though. "Start with asking old people, just say you're writing about the institute fire back in... whenever. Want to talk to anyone who might have worked there at the time."
Alex nodded slowly as he thought it over. It definitely sounded like a good idea but what if he found somebody who still worked for them and figured out what he was doing? It was a worthy risk, especially if he got answers. There was always going to be a chance they'd come after him if he got too close anyway. “Which old people?” he asked then laughed because it seemed silly and the effects of the pot were still there. “I mean, Wilkes is dead and he's the only one I know for sure worked there. Do I just go into a nursing home or something?”
Mike thought about it and if they were cops there were probably ways to get those sort of files but they weren't and they didn't even have any cool resources. "You could just chat with locals, ask random questions, say you're writing about the fire or something, ask if they know someone who used to work there." He frowned in thought. "I don't know man, never thought I'd be interested in private investigation.
“Me neither, I was thinking about getting into social work actually.” Alex didn’t have a college degree yet but he had definitely been at the point where he needed to consider life after it. And then his mother’s health had gone down for longer than any of her usual periods and, well, life had put college on hold for a while. After Mike’s confession about his own health, Alex was sure he understood and it was nice not to feel like a loser for not having a clear direction yet. “So I guess that could kind of link in with treating kids with behavioural issues, kind of an in if we need it…”
"Yeah that could be an in," Mike replied excitedly. "I mean, you could go there and ask about prospective job offers and what kind of education you need and whatever. Nothing like an eager student." He hadn't dealt with any of that stuff himself, content to just play his band and occasionally work at the museum for the hell of it so what the hell did he know. Maybe they'd tell him to fuck off and talk to a guidance counselor and not waste their time, but it was worth a try.
“Maybe…” Alex said slowly. He knew it was a possibility but he wasn’t sure if he wanted to reveal himself just yet. The idea of having somebody breaking into his apartment didn’t sound appealing. And he wasn’t sure if he wanted to do it alone either which was a strange feeling. He’d been investigating for months by himself but now that he had somebody else on his team, the idea of doing it by himself wasn’t as exciting anymore. What if they came after Mike too? “I think your idea about looking for people who used to work there is a better one first. There’s got to be some doctor or something who used to work there.”
Mike wasn't thinking about the risks at all, it was all just fascinating conspiracy theory stuff, like listening to a good podcast only he had to participate if he wanted to see the big reveal. "You found that doctor guy in a newspaper, right? Maybe there's more of them. Even if they're dead maybe they have family that remembers something." If it wasn't late on a Sunday he might have suggested they go to the library now which would have been a bad idea given he was already drunk and stoned.
“Or police too, maybe,” Alex said as he considered all the people who might have had anything to do with the disappearances. There were probably police who had been bought off but at the very least, they might have ideas or know something each person had in common. “Maybe AIR looked for a specific type of kid and they could give us a way to predict who might go missing next. But we really should call them before we forget.”
Mike reached for his phone again, then hesitated. "Probably not the smartest idea," he said as realization hit him. "If you're right they'll have cops working for them and they'll trace the call. You don't have a burner phone, do you?" It wasn't really a ridiculous question if Alex was a conspiracy nut, Mike knew he would make precautions if he was up against something he believed was this huge and dangerous.
Alex's eyes widened as he realised he had only been using his regular, trackable phone. Under the alcohol and pot, this seemed like a much bigger mistake than it actually was and he cursed himself for being so silly. “I'd never even thought about it,” he admitted. ”Doesn't tracking take like thirty seconds or something? If we call and just say ‘AIR took the kid’ then hang up, surely we'd be okay.”
Mike shook his head. "I have no idea but you'd want to be clearer than that, AIR took the kid just sounds like you're saying she vanished into thin air, not really helpful. So you'd speak a little longer and they'd go 'can you repeat that' and you want to make sure they know what you're saying so you repeat it and before you know it, thirty seconds, bam!" If it even took that long. Technology was moving really fast.
The whole thing sounded ridiculously complicated and Alex wondered how their roles had switched. Mike had come in as the skeptic but here he was, thinking of every angle while Alex thought the risk was probably minimal. He tried to bite back his laughter but finally snorted and let it burst out. “Sorry, sorry,” he said as the giggles subsided. He shook his head. “It's just hard to believe somebody is sitting in the police station waiting for a call about a missing kid. I think we should just call, it'll be fine. We're overthinking it.”
It was one thing to think about conspiracy theories and make impossible plans and another thing entirely to actually involve the cops. Mike shook his head slowly. "You go right ahead, give them a call from your phone." He was pretty sure someone was sitting by the phone waiting for a call considering everyone was looking for that girl. "We should go out there sometime, snoop around. If someone sees us we'll just tell'em we heard stories about it being haunted."
Alex glanced at his phone sitting on the edge of the television unit where he’d left it earlier and frowned. “Maybe not right now,” he said quietly. He’d have preferred if Mike was the one to volunteer to talk to them. He didn’t think anybody would be waiting to come for them, like the Men in Black but the idea of looking crazy was holding him back. They wouldn’t believe him anyway. “But yeah, that sounds like a good idea. Maybe not right away in case they’re on high alert after taking a kid.”
"Unless you wanna find the kid," Mike murmured. The weed and alcohol was getting to his head and he closed his eyes to enjoy the little rush he was feeling. "Hey, do you have a guitar?" he asked since he vaguely remembered Alex talking about how he used to play. Now he wanted to hear it, if possible.
Alex was still thinking about how tricky it would be to break into the centre and what the odds would be of being able to find anybody inside before they were caught when Mike’s question interrupted his thoughts. A guitar? How was that going to save the town from bad guys? “Huh, no, sorry...” He tried to remember what had happened to the cheap one he’d had as a teenager and remembered it was probably locked away in a storage unit in Portland along with the rest of most of his apartment. “Why?”
"Because I wanna hear you play," Mike said with a shrug. "You should come visit me sometime, let me hear it." Nevermind that Alex had said he wasn't all that good, that was beside the point. "I just think we need a break from big plans, I'm a little too drunk to come up with a good one."
“Yeah, I can’t play in front of somebody who actually has a band. I only really used it to pick up girls. It didn’t work though, probably because I’m so bad.” Alex laughed. In his mind, having a band and actual gigs made somebody a professional or at least closer to one than him. But Mike was right, the thought of conspiracies and cover-ups and trying to uncover them was getting to be too much for him too. It was exhausting. He reached into a drawer under the coffee table and pulled out a deck of cards, holding them up to Mike. “How’s your poker then? Just regular, not strip,” he added quickly to make sure that Mike didn’t get the wrong idea.
"Where's the fun in that?" Mike teased, letting the guitar thing go for now. "My game's good, used to play with my dad all the time, he taught me a thing or two." It had been a while and he had the random thought that Terry might like it if Mike engaged him in a game sometime. "You have to put something on the line though, even if it's not stripping."
Alex looked slowly around his apartment as he considered what he could offer Mike. There wasn’t a whole lot available. He didn’t keep any collections of things they could use and he rarely carried cash to use either. “Matchsticks?” he said as he stood up, ready to fetch them. He had those, somewhere at least.
Mike groaned and rolled his eyes. "If I win, you come visit and play me a song on the guitar," he told him. "If you win... Well, shit. I don't know. What do you want?" He didn't know him well enough to guess though at the moment he wouldn't be surprised if he asked for something relating to his conspiracy theory. Whatever it was, Mike would be aiming for fair trade.
Alex sat back down on the couch and thought for a moment. “More nights out like this,” he finally decided as he raised his now-empty bottle. It was easy enough stakes but that didn’t mean he’d go easy on Mike, he played to win. He pulled the cards from their box and made a waterfall with them before he started to shuffle them properly and dealt them out into the two piles. “Luckily I’m better at cards than guitar,” he laughed. “So you better get your beer ready.”
"Sucker," Mike teased because more nights like this was something he'd have given up for free. "I've got plenty more where this came from should I lose so... bring it on." He sat up straighter and drank a little more. "Don't let me catch you cheating."
“You should cheat, you're going to need it.” Alex finished dealing, set the deck down and picked his cards up. He held them close, his hands wrapped around them to keep Mike from spying in a dramatic, exaggerated fashion. ”But even if I lose, we should do this again. You're a cool guy.”
"I am," Mike agreed jokingly but the compliment made him smile in a way that was genuine. "If you lose we are hanging out again 'cause you're coming over to play guitar. That'll involve drinking too probably so win win, right?" He looked at his cards and huffed softly. "You might just win this one though."