Alex Manes [Roswell New Mexico] (coldestreality) wrote in valarlogs, @ 2020-06-15 14:43:00 |
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Entry tags: | alex manes, michael guerin |
Who: Michael Guerin and Alex Manes
What: More Dreams/Shared Dreams/Shared Trauma
When: Middle of the night
Where: Michael's Airstream
Warnings: Not really
Status: Closed and complete Gdoc
Michael hadn’t spent much time talking about his dream. There wasn’t much to say. His conversation with Alex had been brief, the guy took his guitar back, asked if the rumors about Michael were true which Michael countered by asking if the rumors about Alex were true. And then Alex offered him a place to say. It was the one nice thing anyone had ever done for him. The first person (other than Max or Isobel) to really show him kindness. And that was it.
As usual the talking portion of their encounter hadn’t lasted long. Which Michael was fine with. Even if the dream had been a pleasant one he still wanted to forget that other life. And Alex was very good at providing distractions.
Of course as soon as he fell asleep more dreams came. They started off pretty good. Being in the tool shed with Alex, playing together, almost kissing. Then actually kissing at the museum. Then actually hooking up in the tool shed only to have Alex’s dad walk in on them after. Shit blew up from there. He picked up a hammer, Alex looked like he knew what was coming. Michael watched as he pleaded with his dad not to do whatever Jesse Manes was about to do. Only to have Jesse pushing him up against a wall with a hand on Alex’s throat. Michael couldn’t take that sight. Before he knew what he was doing he was yelling at Jesse not to touch Alex and pushing Jesse off him.
The result was Jesse taking the hammer to Michael’s hand. The pain jolted Michael out of his sleep, his hand still throbbing.
Alex had listened to what Michael told him about the dreams. It all seemed in line with his own dreams. At least plausible. His brain could make it work in the context of the dreams he had had. And when he slept, he dreamed the very dreams Michael had told him about: Michael taking Alex’s guitar from the music room at school, Alex confronting him and asking if the rumors were true, offering Michael a warm place to crash via the toolshed on the Manes property. Given his father’s abusive tendencies, Alex wasn’t so sure it was a good idea, but he couldn’t stand the thought of Michael sleeping in his truck, so he made the offer, and Michael accepted.
One thing led to another, and as Michael was dreaming about the museum and the toolshed, Alex was dreaming the same dreams from his own perspective. His father came in, entirely too calm, with that disappointed glare he had reserved only for Alex. None of Alex’s brothers seemed to get that glare, and it never failed to make Alex’s skin crawl. He’d begged, pleased with his father, hoping against hope that Jesse would just turn and walk away. Even as he picked up the hammer, Alex had hope he would maybe beat the wall with it and move on.
But of course that wasn’t going to happen. Michael lurched at Jesse, and Jesse attacked him with the hammer. Alex woke with a start when the hammer came down on Michael’s hand. Pulled out of the dream so abruptly, his heart was drumming in his chest, his pulse rang in his ears. Sweat beaded his forehead and he scrambled back until he hit the wall, eyes wide and looking at Michael there beside him.
A few seconds after Michael was woken from his own dream, Alex woke up beside him seeming just as distressed as he was. Michael looked over at him frowning, from the pain in his hand, his own dreams and seeing Alex so upset. But right now what was going on with him didn’t matter. Not when something was clearly wrong with Alex.
“What happened?” Michael asked ignoring the throbbing in his hand. He was very much over dream injuries carrying over. Living through this pain once was more than enough thank you very much. He sat up eyes still glued to Alex. “Are you okay?” he knew the answer was a big fat no, but still he couldn’t help but ask.
Alex was more concerned with Michael. Because if they were dreaming the same dreams...he’d dreamed what Michael told him about, and more. His eyes went to Michael’s hand. “I’m okay. Just. Are you?”
He felt an incredible wave of concern for Michael. He knew the dream was just a dream, but it was more than that too. It felt real. He’d felt like he lived through that awful attack in the tool shed. He felt like his father had actually smashed Michael’s hand with a hammer.
Michael felt like Jesse Manes had actually slammed his hammer down on to his hand as well. Though it wasn’t bloody or anything like when the burn had been fresh. He didn’t know why he had the pain but not the injury, maybe it was because his hand had already been broken? He had no idea nor could he even begin to try and comprehend at the moment.
“I uh, need ice,” Michael said standing up and walking to the kitchenette area of his trailer. Now that he knew Alex was somewhat okay, since he didn’t fully believe him, but he could worry more about that in a minute. He just needed to get this pain taken care of. He grabbed a dish towel opening up the freezer with his right hand. The problem was he didn’t know how to get the ice from the freezer into the towel only using one hand and he didn’t think he could do much with the left right now. Still he tried to reach in and grab some ice with his left hand, wincing in pain.
Shit.
“Can you, uh, help?” he hated asking for help, admitting he needed it. But there were more pressing matters than his pride at the moment.
Alex was fine. He hadn’t been hurt in this dream. At least physically. Even if it took him a moment to realise Michael needed help. Once his brain caught up, and he realised that Michael was struggling, he was moving toward him, taking over getting the ice out and into the towel and wrapping it up so Michael could hold it to his hand.
“Do you have any Tylenol or something you can take?” He felt like an idiot for not thinking to get the ice before Michael did.
“Yeah, in the bathroom cabinet,” he said placing the towel full of ice on his hand and taking a seat at the table. The pain was too much to keep standing.
Michael didn’t blame Alex for not thinking to get ice. It wasn’t like he knew what had happened. Or did he? The way he was just helping to take care of Michael’s hand and not questioning what had happened. Michael’s brow furrowed. Had Alex? Did they just?
“Did you have a dream?”
Alex made his way to the bathroom to find the pills. He came back and got Michael some water to take them with. He sat down before answering. “I dreamed everything you told me about, and more,” he said.
His voice dropped, soft to barely more than a whisper. “My dad...he did this to you,” Alex said, his eyes shifting to Michael’s hand. Michael had tried to stop him from assaulting Alex, and he’d gotten hit himself, far worse than anything Jesse had done to Alex. Alex had a few scars in his real life and in his dream life, but his father had never attacked him so brutally as to go after him with a hammer.
“Thanks,” Michael said popping a few in his mouth and swallowing it down with the water Alex had brought him. “Yeah,” Michael said his voice slightly bitter. “I had the same dream.” Obviously.
But then the tone in Alex’s voice hit him. How he was barely able to get the words out. His face softened along with his tone. “I get the comment about your dad being an asshole now,” Michael said. “Did he - is he like that here?”
Alex drew a breath. He had been careful about what he said concerning his father. The impersonal relationship he had with his dad and his brothers was no secret. Michael had seen the man at the funeral. He knew Alex had no real love for his dad. But he didn’t know the truth of it.
He gave a slight nod. “He’s worse in the dreams,” Alex said. He didn’t want Michael going after Jesse. The cycle of violence ended with him, and he didn’t want it to bleed over into Michael. Jesse Manes wasn’t worth that much attention. Alex would rather just ignore him and forget he existed.
Michael could understand that. Things definitely seemed to be worse in the dreams. He had been through some shit foster homes in real life, but none compared to the ones in the dreams. At least in his real life he never had an exorcism preformed on him. Still he hated hearing that Alex had to deal with a father like that. In any life.
The softness left his face, replaced with rage. Not at Alex of course. At Jesse Manes. “Doesn’t matter,” Michael said bitterly. “You shouldn’t have had to deal with that shit.”
“He hasn’t touched me for over a decade, Michael.” Emotionally, sure. He’d berated Alex the few times he’d seen him. Before, and at the funeral. Alex had avoided his father, and his brothers since they’d put his mother in the ground.
“It’s not worth getting upset over now.” Especially when Michael’s hand was a current concern. “How’s your hand?” he decided to try and steer the focus to the hand, the more pressing issue as far as Alex was concerned.
That didn’t matter. The fact that he had hurt Alex at all really pissed Michael off. No matter how long ago it was. Besides it was still fresh in his mind thanks to the dreams.
“My hand is fine,” Michael lied. He didn’t want to focus on that right now. It would be fine eventually. Just like when had had broken in ten years ago. “You shouldn’t have had to deal with that.”
“No one should have to deal with it,” Alex said softly. “But we do, and if things had been different for me, I’d be a different person.” That was his peace. It was the only peace he could find in the face of being abused by his father. What he’d had to deal with and what he’d been through wasn’t ideal, but he would be a completely different person if things had been different for him. He was grateful he wasn’t a raging asshole like his father, or his brothers who were just like him.
“I don’t want you confronting my dad, Michael.” That was his fear. He could see Michael going to his dad, and Jesse was a wild card. Alex could only imagine what his father would do then.
“I’m not going to confront him,” Michael said. No matter how much he wanted to, especially after that dream. He wasn’t crazy enough to go beat the guy up in the middle of the night. “Unless he tries to hurt you again.” Because that would be a different story.
“He won’t.” Alex didn’t know that for sure, but he was fairly certain his father would rather just ignore his existence at this point. He was an adult now, after all. And no longer a child dependent on his father.
“I haven’t even seen him since the funeral, and I have no plans to see him again until it’s his funeral and we’re putting him in the ground.” There was some regret in his voice, but he’d long since made peace with the way his relationship with his father had to be.
“He doesn’t deserve anymore of our time, Michael.” Alex would rather focus on Michael, and Michael’s hand, at the moment. “How’s the hand feeling?”
“Okay,” Michael finally said because he knew better than to keep pushing the issue. “Better stay that way,” he finally added. Jesse Manes was an asshole and Michael didn’t want Alex anywhere near the guy. Even if he had heard the hint of regret in Alex’s tone. As far as Michael was concerned there was nothing to regret. He was better off without his monster of a father.
“Sore,” he replied somewhat honestly because that was a bit of an understatement. His hand was actually throbbing in pain, but he didn’t want to worry Alex more than necessary.
“Is the ice helping? Do you think I should call Alex? He’s a medic, he could help.” Not that Alex particularly wanted to bring someone else in, even if it was someone he trusted, and even if he felt like he was out of his depths. He’d seen what happened to Michael’s hand. Head no idea how to deal with a hand that was deliberately smashed with a hammer.
“It probably needs to be braced. Might even need a cast.” Alex’s eyes looked to Michael’s face. He was absolutely stricken with worry for him.
“It’s helping,” Michael lied. Well sort of. His hand was starting to go numb which was helping. “I’ll be fine.” He didn’t particularly want to share his dream injuries with anyone else. Especially people he didn’t know that well. “Promise,” he said, meeting Alex’s eyes with his own, hoping to give the guy some reassurance.
“Okay.” Alex wasn’t entirely convinced, but he also wasn’t going to push it. Michael was an adult, he could make his own decisions. If he didn’t want to have a professional look at his hand, Alex wasn’t going to force the issue.
“Do you have an Ace bandage? I could wrap it, at least.”
He did have a few of those. They were good to keep on hand in case he got injured at work. “Yeah,” he confirmed. Instead of making Alex get one though he got up to get it himself. It was already enough that he had made Alex get out of bed to help him with the ice and then go get the tylenol for him. Leaving the pack of ice on the table he went to grab a bandage from one of the drawers in the bathroom, only slightly wincing at the pain. He brought it back to Alex and handed it over. “Thanks.”
Alex would have gotten the bandage, but he didn’t say anything when Michael got up to get it. He stayed where he was, waiting for Michael to come back. Alex had wrapped his own sprained or strained wrists plenty of time, he figured he could handle wrapping Michael’s hand.
“Let me know if it’s too tight.” It may not look as neat as if a professional wrapped it, but Alex had decent technique.
“It’s fine,” Michael assured once his hand was wrapped. “I don’t think I’m going to be able to go back to sleep.” He knew the pain would keep him up for a bit, probably the whole night. He had no idea how he was going to manage work tomorrow either. But that was an issue for the morning. “I’m gonna watch TV or something. You can go home if you want.” He didn’t want to keep Alex up all night too.
Alex shook his head. “No way. I’ll stay.” He didn’t care about sleeping. He wasn’t going to sleep, either. Maybe if he curled back up in bed with Michael, but if he went home? No way. So he’d stay and keep Michael company, and deal with the exhaustion in the morning.
Michael would never admit it, but he was glad Alex was staying. He had been alone most of his life. As much as he acted like he was fine with it, that he didn’t need any body. He was beginning to realize that maybe he did. And maybe that person was Alex. “Okay,” Michael replied softly. With that he made his way back to the bed and turned on the television. His hand was still throbbing, but at least he wasn’t alone.