A Place To Call Home, Ch 8.

Fandom: Rosewell, New Mexico.

Summary: A canon divergent take on Roswell, New Mexico, and the relationships  between Isobel, Noah, and Rosa; later parts will shift the focus to  Michael and Alex, as well as Michael and Noah. What is it like to share a  body with another alien? Can broken trust be mended? Do the ends really  justify the means?  

Rating: M.

Tags: Canon divergence, minor  character death, not really character death, body sharing, polyamory,  hurt/comfort, addiction problems, sickfic, revenge, fix it, friends to  enemies to lovers, lovers to enemies to lovers, Noah is complicated, cw:  dubious age stuff for a little bit considering Nasedo/Noah is  who-the-hell-knows how old.

Word Count: 2833

Dawn broke, painting the Roswell sky lilac, magenta, and gold.

The  road that led to Carlsbad was desolate. It had been easy enough to lure  a driver to him, persuading them to take him to Midway RV Park. It was  along his chosen escape route, lingering just far enough away from  Roswell that Nasedo felt comfortable hiding there until sunrise. He kept  to the scant scattering of trees, curled up against the trunk of one  farthest from the RVs; sleep evaded him, but he closed his eyes and  rested as much as he was able. He would have to move swiftly once it was  time, and he would need whatever strength he could muster.

As  the sun peeked over the horizon, Nasedo felt some measure of relief. He  could feel his powers, still coiled inside his body like a rattlesnake  ready to strike. It was irritating to know that it would take hours to  accomplish what he, a skilled fighter, had once been able to do in  minutes. Still. His powers hadn't left him. They merely required  patience, and practice, to return in full. He wouldn't need more than a  couple hours at most, regardless. Not if he was careful.

An old  man in the RV park was shuffling past, walking towards a rusted-up  truck. Nasedo waited until the man was a couple paces ahead before  moving out from the trees and slinging an arm around the man's shoulder  in a gesture of familiarity. "Keep walking," Nasedo said, his voice  calm. "Where are you heading?"

The man's eyes glazed over. "Hagerman."

"Hagerman is a lovely place. You'll give me a ride there, won't you?"

"Alright."

Nasedo  glanced around as the neared the truck. There wasn't anyone else  around, but anyone could show up out of the blue. He took the  opportunity to enact the first part of his plan. The lamp post near the  truck had just flickered off for the day; he could still hear the hum of  electricity running through it. He pressed his hand to the cool metal  as the man opened the truck door, sending a surge of power through the  lines. Nasedo took some of the energy into himself, sending the rest  blasting outward with a crack. The power in the park sputtered and died,  with lights in the distance dying soon after. The metal of the post had  warped, with a lightning strike pattern branching outwards.

Time to go.  Nasedo climbed into the truck, and the man drove out to Main Street  without a word. He leaned back against the seat, taking a slow, deep  breath. Using his powers in such a way was taxing, but it was vital to  leave a noticeable trail. Manes, he recalled faintly, had been friends  at one point with Valenti. The bastard would notice the signs. If Manes  saw a trail leading away from Roswell, and the heirs were still in  Roswell, hopefully it would pull suspicion away from them long enough  for Nasedo to strengthen himself and return to the heirs more prepared.

He  looked at himself in the mirror of the car. He didn't look much older  than Max. Had he really been so young when he went into stasis? He  couldn't remember anymore. Soldiers went straight from school and into  service, and their species had such long lifespans, they didn't age the  same way as humans. At least he recognized himself otherwise. Darker  brown skin, brown eyes, black hair. He knew that, unfortunately, he  would have to be careful. A little less than half the state was white,  but that 'little less than half' was very loud and wasn't exactly known  for progressiveness. He'd have to split his energy between leaving  breadcrumbs for Manes and whatever parasites he had on his side, wiping  memories, and turning people's attention from him. It would be a  difficult day, but the end goal was simple. Leave a trail down to  Carlsbad, take a bus from there to Albuquerque, and disappear into the  swarm of humans that called it home.

Large fields, empty except  for the occasional horse, gave way to farmhouses, a baptist church, and a  gas station. Hagerman was small. Quaint, Isobel would have  said with a little nosewrinkle, and not in a flattering sense. Nasedo  would have to move on to a bigger city to avoid suspicion, but he  wouldn't force the old man to go farther than intended. It wasn't worth  the effort, if he could find another ride.

"Where are you heading, friend?" Nasedo asked.

The man barely blinked. "Rio Felix apartments."

"I see. Why don't you let me off at the church, and then you can be on your way."

"Alright."

The  old man stopped, and Nasedo got out. He circled around to the driver's  window, patting the old man on the shoulder. "Thanks. Do me a favor and  forget you ever saw me."

"Huh?"

Nasedo walked off before  the man could come to his senses. The truck sat there for a moment,  idling, but kept going. The switch to the next vehicle happened fast.  There was a car near the edge of the church, covered in Christian  stickers with some lanky white man getting inside. A minute later and  they were on their way to Lake Arthur. A young goth-looking sort outside  Lake Arthur's city park got him to Aretesia. A larger city meant more  potential witnesses, but it also meant more people distracted with their  own thoughts, emotions, and lives. It also meant that, when Nasedo  tapped into the energy grid at the WalMart and blew the power in the  entire city, it was sure to make the news.

By the time he got to  Carlsbad, delivered by a semi-truck driver who smelled like cigarette  smoke and tequila, the sun was beating down and the air was thick with  the summer heat. Nasedo stole one of several pairs of sunglasses from  the truck, hopping out and taking in the scenery. Carlsbad was smaller  than Roswell, but not claustrophobic like the others had been. He didn't  feel like eyes were on him as much, which made swiping the wallet of  some polo-shirt wearing douchebag easier. Fifty bucks. Enough for some  food, and a one-way ticket to Albuquerque.  

The Motel 6 was  seedy, but the staff members were overworked by tourist season, and  seemed too tired to care about much of anything. Convincing the older  woman at the desk to give him a room for the night-- free of charge--  barely required any of his powers at all. Nasedo sighed as he flopped on  the bed in the motel room, curling up and drifting off to sleep as soon  as his head hit the pillow. By the time he woke up again, the sun was  setting. The clock on the nightstand read that it was seven o' clock at  night. It was tempting to go back to sleep, but his stomach was roiling  from a lack of food; he would have to go out and find something.

A  lack of phone or computer meant having to do things old school. He  flipped through the yellow pages, finding a store within walking  distance. It wasn't anything fancy, but it didn't need to be. He was  able to buy more water, a couple frozen dinners, and enough packaged  foods to make it to Albuquerque. The woman at the check-out stand gave  him a warm smile, and he forced a smile back, but he felt his insides  twist. The only ones who had ever looked at him like that were Isobel  and Rosa. He didn't want anyone else to, certainly not some strange  human who would ship him off to a lab the moment they knew the truth.

Nasedo  stood in the motel room when he got back, the silence suddenly and  painfully obvious. He was alone. Before he'd met Isobel, the emptiness  had been maddening-- but now that he'd known her and the other heirs,  now that he'd known Rosa and tasted what it was like to have someone  love him and care for him, life felt hopeless. Even if he managed to  bring Rosa back to life, it could take years for Max to get strong  enough, and he knew in his core that Rosa would never forgive him. None  of them would, would they? Isobel would never trust him again. It was  useless. And yet, Nasedo knew he wasn't owed that. Rosa deserved to  live, regardless of how she'd feel about him.

He sat in the  middle of the bed, crossing his legs and closing his eyes. He wished  that his king and queen had survived, or that he could see his parents  one last time. If only he could ask for their wisdom. The only advice he  had were the last words his father ever said to him, just before the  attack the fell their kingdom. Don't let poison fill where love should be.  His father had disappeared moments later, marching into battle  alongside Nasedo's mother while Nasedo was sent away with the rest of  the royal guard.

They had been warriors to their last breath,  stalwart and honorable. He had aspired to be like them to the end of his  days, as well, but the crash had changed everything. Anger and hatred  had festered where love had been. Isobel and Rosa had been the guiding  stars in his life keeping that tainted ichor from consuming him. They  were lost to him, now, and the only choice he could see going forward  was to use that poison inside him to save Rosa and keep the heirs safe--  even if he had to do so from afar. He could pretend, at least, that  there was something noble in that.

But even if it was the  most-right choice, he was no longer what he had been. He'd broken so  many oaths already. Without an elder to direct him, and knowing that  punishment would be handed down on him if there were any elders left,  Nasedo embraced his newfound purpose. Nasedo slid off the bed and held  his old clothes in his hands, focusing. They dissolved into ash in his  palms, and he dumped the particles into the wastebasket. There had been  stories of warriors that had become something darker-- through  necessity, but they were never spoken of, and treated as outcasts among  their people. They were the ones that dispatched enemies in their sleep,  using night as their disguise, or slipped toxins into their drinks. War  was a bloody, terrible thing.

And what were most humans to him, except enemies in a war that had begun in 1947?

It made his next task easier to think of it that way.

He  packed up everything he planned to take with him, shoving it into a  backpack that he'd purchased at the store. Human food tasted strange on  his tongue, intense and foreign in a way it hadn't when he shared  Isobel's body, and the shower's heat and pressure was almost painful on  his skin. At least sleep remained the same, providing a few more hours  of relief before he set out. It wasn't hard to find some loud, irate,  and drunken bigot who was looking for a fight. It felt like nothing,  this time, taking the ranting fool's life. Nasedo dumped the body in the  bushes; by the time anyone found it, the handprint would be visible.  With any luck, it'd draw anyone who was looking away from Roswell.

The  ten hour bus ride to Albuquerque followed. The air inside the bus was  too warm, stagnant, and smelled like sweat. Thankfully, no one opted to  sit next to him; he leaned back against the seat and closed his eyes,  enjoying the rush of strength that moved through him. Taking a human  life did restore some of his strength, after all. He knew he should have  felt some sort of shame, but the creature had been a vicious, violent  thing. Remorse was a waste of time and energy on someone who wouldn't  have felt remorse for doing the same. And if it eased the ache in his  core, if it healed some of the damage done to him by time thanks to  hiding from murderous humans, then why not revel in it-- just a little?

Besides.  With any luck, it was the last life he would have to take. As soon as  he got to Albuquerque, he would convince a few tourists to generously  donate their wealth, and find shelter. What else did most humans need,  besides a safe place to sleep? A phone or computer, to access  information and communicate. Access to transportation. Food, clothes,  hygiene supplies. The hardest thing to acquire would be his human  identity.

Nasedo knew a little of what he had to do. After all,  Isobel, Max, and Michael hadn't come with proper papers, either. Isobel  and Max's parents didn't say much about it, but their father was a  lawyer himself, and had shared the story of how the three had been found  nameless, mute, and naked in the desert. They hadn't had any records,  of course. No parents found, no proof of any of their births. He had  mentioned in passing how some families chose not to have social security  numbers for their children, often due to religious reasons. It was  assumed that that's what had happened to Isobel and her brothers. Kids  like that could still get one later in life.

All it would take was a good story, and a little persuasion.

A  four hour transfer in El Paso, Texas, gave Nasedo time to grab a cheap  burger from the closest fast food restaurant. It was so unlike the ones  at the Crashdown-- thick, juicy beasts piled high with crisp pickles,  onions, and sweet rounds of tomato-- but it quieted the snarling in his  stomach. It also gave him a chance to mull around town and pick a few  pockets, gathering up a small bundle of cash; he bought new clothes at a  funky boutique, changing before he got back to the bus station.

It  was strange to walk among so many humans after all that had happened  within the last two days. He expected that, at any moment, someone would  notice that he wasn't human. Or, perhaps, someone would have recognized  him somehow from Carlsbad. After all, he couldn't wipe the memories of  everyone possibly within eyesight. Which was why Nasedo got nervous  when, as they made a brief stop in Las Cruces to pick up other  passengers, an older woman stared hard at him before taking the seat at  his side. Her eyes were hazel and deeply wrinkled around the ends; she  had long salt and pepper hair, pulled back into a braid, and skin just a  bit darker than his own. Perhaps how his mother would have looked, had  she lived to become an elder.

"I'm sorry for staring," she said,  with a thick accent that he couldn't place. "You look so much like my  grandnephew. He lives so far away now."

Nasedo didn't know what  to say, so he pretended he was talking to an elder from back home. It  felt less bizarre. "I'm sorry he's far away. Do you see him at all?"

"Not often. I'm going to see him this week. He lives in Sante Fe with his parents. It's very beautiful there."

"I've never been."

"Maybe someday." She leaned a bit closer. "Are you traveling towards someone, or away from them?"

"What do you mean?"

"Oh, you have a look. I have two children, nine grandchildren. I know the look."

For  a moment, Nasedo didn't respond. "Away from someone," he finally  answered. His throat squeezed shut, and it was hard to speak. "I, uh. I  messed up, and I'm trying to make it right."

The old woman reached out and rested her hand on his. "Have faith. You'll find your way back to them, someday."

"How do you know?"

"When you get to be my age, you know."

They  spent the next eight hours alternating between silence, dozing, and  Nasedo smiling appreciatively as the old woman showed him pictures she  had of her 'favorite children'-- nine cats that were being watched by  her eldest daughter, and her daughter's wife. Both were doctors, the old  woman said with a proud look. When the bus pulled up to the station in  Albuquerque, Nasedo had learned more about knitting and indoor gardening  than he'd ever anticipated.

"Thank you for the company," Nasedo  said to her as they got off the bus. The time had gone by faster than  expected, and he almost felt sad at parting ways. "Have fun seeing your  grandnephew."

The woman gave him a hug, and he didn't resist. "Bless you. Good luck."

He  watched after her as she shuffled to the parking lot, and to a car that  was waiting. A couple helped her in; to his surprise, the old woman  looked back and waved through the window. Nasedo waved back, unable to  help smiling.

Maybe, just maybe, some humans weren't so bad.

A Place To Call Home, Ch 7.

Fandom: Rosewell, New Mexico.

Summary: A canon divergent take on Roswell, New Mexico, and the relationships  between Isobel, Noah, and Rosa; later parts will shift the focus to  Michael and Alex, as well as Michael and Noah. What is it like to share a  body with another alien? Can broken trust be mended? Do the ends really  justify the means?  

Rating: M.

Tags: Canon divergence, minor  character death, not really character death, body sharing, polyamory,  hurt/comfort, addiction problems, sickfic, revenge, fix it, friends to  enemies to lovers, lovers to enemies to lovers, Noah is complicated, cw:  dubious age stuff for a little bit considering Nasedo/Noah is  who-the-hell-knows how old.

Word Count: 2371

Nasedo stirred inside the stasis pod.

He was alone in his head,  the link between himself and Isobel severed, but he felt something else  coursing through his body. Something familiar and sublime--  power.

The  muscles in his arms flexed. His legs cramped as he began to stretch and  push against the confines of the pod. His skin no longer looked  decayed, and for the first time in decades, Nasedo felt his heart and  lungs expand and contract with ease. Somehow, his body was healing.  There wasn't time to ponder how or why; his body was also fighting to be  free of its prison, after being trapped for so long. He shoved against  the barrier, and this time, it gave way.

He coughed as he tumbled  from the pod to the dusty cave floor. The pressure of the rock against  his palms was overwhelming. The air that flowed in from outside was  grating against his flesh. Crickets chirping outside sounded like  hideous sirens to his ears, and the oxygen of the atmosphere made him  dizzy. Still. His legs supported him when he stood, even though they  wobbled as he tried to walk. Nasedo squinted in the moonlight as he made  his way outside of the cave, the brightness of it making pain throb  just behind his eyes.

Finally, he was free. There was a moment of  joy, before that happiness crashed down into sorrow. At what cost? In  their species culture, it was common for warriors to absorb the life  force of fallen enemies, or for elders to bless loved ones with their  last threads of energy as they ascended to the afterlife. But did it  work with humans, too? Could their kind absorb the life force of other  species? Nasedo stared at his hands, wanting to vomit. It wasn't right.  It was downright ghoulish.

But it was, and he couldn't change that. Not unless...

Despite  the fact that his body had repaired itself, enough to exist outside the  pod, Nasedo couldn't move with haste. Not yet. He hobbled to where  Rosa's corpse-- and where Isobel and her brothers-- should have been, a  naive hope fluttering in his chest. Maybe if he got to them, he could  explain. Beg for their mercy. Promise to help them, to tell them about  home, to teach them to use their powers in exchange for their  forgiveness. Perhaps he didn't deserve compassion or their  understanding, but surely they would believe that he hadn't intended for  this to happen.

Except they were gone. All three aliens, the two  dead twits, and Rosa. Completely gone, as if they'd never existed, save  for faint drag marks on the ground. Michael, Nasedo realized. He'd  moved the bodies, like he had the night that Max killed Isobel's  attacker. Travel would be slow. His clothes-- a formal looking uniform  that Protectors wore-- had maintained integrity during stasis, but foot  coverings weren't common during space journeys and time in stasis had  left his skin delicate. Nasedo followed the marks, ignoring the way the  sun-scorched rocks and sharp plants bit into his bare feet. He couldn't  worry about discomfort just then. He had to catch up with the heirs  before they did something ridiculous.

He smelled smoke, and heard the sounds of a loud commotion, before he saw the wreckage. It was too late; they'd already done  something ridiculous. Nasedo crouched down, keeping to the shadows as  he peered through brush at the scene on the road before him. There were  no less than four police cars, another plain black SUV, and a large  white van belonging to a medical examiner. A handful of people were  mulling around the charred remains of two cars, and the rest were  between the medical examiner's vehicle and the SUV. A few members of the  second group wore military uniforms.

Fuck. Nasedo eyed the  smouldering cars, trying to figure out what in the bleeding stars had  happened. The heirs were long gone, for sure, and the fire was nothing  more than ash; whatever had occurred, it had been at least half an hour  ago. Skid marks on the road. Two cars, both melted. Had they tried to  cover up the deaths as a car crash? Nasedo swallowed hard as fear  bloomed in his chest. If Rosa's corpse was destroyed, there would be no  way to fix what he'd done.

There was only one way to know for  sure, and that would be to investigate the scene. Nasedo cursed under  his breath in his mother tongue. Before, on their homeworld, it would  have been simple to manipulate a dozen individuals into whatever he  needed them to do. But here? After being is stasis for so long, rotting  away? He had no idea if his powers would work, much less on so many  minds.

All he needed them to do was not notice him. His clothing  was dark, with nothing remarkable or flashy about it. Perhaps, if he was  careful, he could pull it off. If he couldn't, he might as well be dead  anyways. Nasedo closed his eyes, focusing. Nothing. Nasedo grit his  teeth, digging deep inside his body and clawing for the base of his  power. It took longer than he liked, but he felt it there inside his  cells, rising up and crackling through his veins. There.

Standing,  he walked forward. Stretching out his mind, he let it brush against the  minds of the humans present, soothing them and whispering that  everything was normal. There was no one to see, nothing out of place.  The effort was already draining him, but he didn't need long. He kept to  the edges of the scene, walking with purpose and stepping behind  people. He, in the minds of the humans, belonged there and knew where he  was going. A quick glance at the destroyed cars told him that they were  empty. The van, then. The medical examiner had to have her, unless the  military had taken them.

Two sheet-covered bodies rested in the  back of the van. Rosa's corpse, half naked, was closer to the doors.  Nasedo's eyes stung as he saw her laying there. She hadn't deserved such  a fate. If he could get past the last group of humans, maybe she  wouldn't have to. Thankfully, they were already plenty distracted with  each other. The men in the uniforms were arguing with the medical  examiners, loudly.

"This is the army's jurisdiction," one yelled. "I demand--"

"If you can explain how this is your jurisdiction--"

Nasedo  turned them out as he slipped into the van. The doors faced away from  the scene. It would give him just enough cover to escape, if he was  careful. "I'm sorry," he whispered to Rosa as he wrapped her completely  in the white sheet. She was burned, but whole. There was a chance. "I'll  fix this, I promise."

Clutching her to him, he left the van and  slinked back to the desert. His head felt like it was being crushed in  from every side as he maintained the illusion over the humans, but he  had to for as long as he could. Once they realized the dead had gone  from three to two, he would only have a short time to hide. He got a  five minute start before he felt the mental connection break; he was  exhausted, and had to focus on returning to his stasis pod. If the  heavens were kind, it would be a few moments more before the humans knew  something was wrong.

Kindness, the heavens decided, was  something they could spare. Nasedo made it to the caves; he slipped the  silver bands off his wrists and coiled them around Rosa's own, gently  uncovering her corpse and lowering her into the stasis pod. The mist  inside glowed faintly. Damaged as it was, the pod was holding. It would  preserve Rosa, long enough for Max to grow older, become stronger, and  revive her. It was risky. It had only been done a handful of times in  their homeworld's history. Still, it was possible, and a possibility was  what Nasedo needed.

He sank down on his knees just outside the  cave, closing his eyes and using the last of his energy to manipulate  the matter around the cave entrance, sealing it shut so it would appear  to be solid stone. It would be just enough to throw off anyone who'd  come looking. And in the morning, he would... what, go hunt down Max and  Michael, and try to explain himself? Now that he thought about it, the  idea was terrible. Nasedo wasn't strong enough to defend himself if they  retaliated. He would have to rest, and try to recover what strength he  could. If he could. There was no way to know if the power he'd tapped  into either was finite, or if it would replenish with time, except to  wait.

Isobel. Nasedo turned his gaze towards the city  lights, longing seizing his heart. She was out there somewhere, gong  through who knew what, because of his foolishness. So many years erased,  and who knew what Max would tell her? What would Michael would say?  Would they blame her, or keep her safe? Michael. Nasedo tilted his head,  considering; Michael had a tendency to cause trouble, and that gave  Nasedo an idea. Pushing himself to his feet, Nasedo began to head  towards the city, listening carefully for any human activity. It was  quiet, beyond the sounds of the desert's nightlife, but that could  change in an instant if the humans somehow made a lucky guess on  direction.

The only police officer he found was a lone human,  snacking on a McMuffin on the outskirts of the city. Illogical, to be so  far outside the city, in the dark, without a partner. Nasedo slipped up  alongside the rolled-down, driver's side window, resting his hand on  the officer's shoulder. The officer froze, then went limp under Nasedo's  hand; it didn't take much effort to enter the man's mind. "Are you  alone?"

"Yeah."

"Perfect. Is there anyone waiting for you at home?"

"No, my wife left me."

"Condolences. Take me to your home. If anyone asks, you forgot your wallet."

The  officer frowned, but didn't resist. Nasedo fried the cameras of the  car-- child's play-- and climbed into the passenger seat. The drive was  silent, and gave Nasedo time to think. The military had known to come to  the crash, somehow. Hadn't there been rumors that Michael was hanging  around Alex Manes? A military brat, Nasedo recalled. Alex had never  registered as a threat, because he was gayer than two unicorns fucking  under a rainbow, and an anti-capitalist punk rock type. Maybe he'd been  wrong, Nasedo wondered.

Examine the facts, his training  reminded him. Rosa was dead, with imprints over her mouth and heart-- an  unfortunate side effect of certain powers, like a bruise of sorts.  Isobel's memory of Nasedo, in his panic, had been suppressed as much as  possible. The heirs had tried to make the deaths appear to be an  accident, but with the military presence, there was no way they'd pulled  it off. Rosa's corpse had been in the back of a van, the imprints  exposed; it was likely that the marks were photographed. If people saw  that and knew what it meant, they were all in danger. If Manes, senior,  suspected Michael and the heirs of being aliens-- if he'd followed them,  or spied on them somehow-- then Nasedo didn't have time to sit idly by.  He had to do something to draw Manes' attention away.

As tired  as he was, the night was far from over. He had to keep pushing through.  The second leg of the plan would mean leaving Roswell, and establishing a  human identity. If he was going to protect the heirs-- whether or not  they were aware of it-- he would need a human guise to shield himself.  And if he knew anything about the human world from the strange criminal  dramas that Isobel sometimes watched with Max, it was that forging an  identity wasn't that hard if one knew where to look. It was just a  matter of blending in, and finding a con to con. Simple. There were  enough greedy, immoral souls in the world.

Speaking of which... They had, apparently, arrived at the officer's home.

Parking  in the garage, the officer let Nasedo into the home. Nasedo led the man  to the bedroom closet, pointing. "Find me something you wouldn't miss."  He skittered into the kitchen while the officer pawed through the  clothes, using the sleeve of his uniform to avoid leaving fingerprints.  He grabbed a discarded plastic bag and tossed in a few things that would  be easy to gloss over. An apple, a few bottles of water. In the  bathroom, there were a couple bottles of nail polish remover under the  kitchen sink. Nasedo snagged those as well, before returning to the  bedroom. "Done?"

"Yeah."

A pair of shabby blue jeans, and a  button-up shirt that screamed 'mother-in-law gift'. A lightly used pair  of running sneakers rested on the floor. It was altogether a bit  tighter than Nasedo would have liked, since the man was twiggy, but it  was better than bustling around New Mexico resembling a wayward  cosplayer. "Alright." He grabbed the officer and dug into his pant  pocket, pulling out his wallet and tossing it on the nightstand. "You  won't remember me. It was a slow night, so you returned here because you  discovered you forgot your wallet. Remember that, yes? I was never  here."

The officer nodded, already looking distracted. "My wallet..."

Nasedo  glowered at the officer, vitriol welling up in his throat. Law  enforcement. They were so akin to their planet's military, filled with  violence and egoism. It was less about justice, and more about control.  Subjugation of people they saw as lesser was second nature to them. It  was tempting to break the man, but that would leave an even worse mess.  He had to be careful with this plan. He'd already done too much damage,  and couldn't afford more. Not in Roswell. Stuffing his old clothes into  another bag, he left the home and headed out into the night.

It was time for his new life to begin.

But first, he had to become bait.

A Place To Call Home, Ch 6.

Fandom: Rosewell, New Mexico.

Summary: A canon divergent take on Roswell, New Mexico, and the relationships  between Isobel, Noah, and Rosa; later parts will shift the focus to  Michael and Alex, as well as Michael and Noah. What is it like to share a  body with another alien? Can broken trust be mended? Do the ends really  justify the means?  

Rating: M.

Tags: Canon divergence, minor  character death, not really character death, body sharing, polyamory,  hurt/comfort, addiction problems, sickfic, revenge, fix it, friends to  enemies to lovers, lovers to enemies to lovers, Noah is complicated, cw:  dubious age stuff for a little bit considering Nasedo/Noah is  who-the-hell-knows how old.

Word Count: 3936

June 8th was graduation. In two weeks and a handful of days, everything would begin to change, and neither Nasedo nor Isobel knew how. It all depended on Rosa, and what path she decided to take. They tried not to expect anything. Rosa was human, after all, and it wasn't like they'd been together all that long. Still. Extraordinary things happened sometimes, didn't they? It was obvious they had a connection. Nasedo could sense it between the three of them. Rosa seemed to love them, and they knew they loved her. Nasedo knew that love wasn't always enough. If Rosa decided she couldn't trust them enough to leave Roswell with them, there was little they could do besides wait. Wait, and hope for the best.

It was one more reason why it was essential to figure out what she knew in regards to Valenti. The man was dangerous. If she saw him as a father figure, she might fall too easily under his sway, and then it would be a one way ticket to a laboratory somewhere. But how to ask about it, without prying and rousing Rosa's suspicion? It took a bit to cook up a plan, but it was simple. Direct, without being confrontational. All it took was Isobel's beautiful smile and a little lie. "I'm doing a project," Isobel said as they lounged under the bridge. Rosa was making some new stencils, her hair pulled up out of her face in the late-spring heat; she was gorgeous, and they hated to risk spoiling the moment, but it had to be done. "It's a paper regarding the 1947 crash. That guy you were gonna go see, didn't you say his name was Valenti?" Rosa peered up. "Yeah. Jim Valenti. Why?" "Oh, curiosity's sake. I read that his father was actually there that night. I guess their family has a long history in the military." "I knew he seemed like the type, but I didn't..." Rosa frowned, leaning back and studying her fingernails. "Do you think his family had something to do with killing your people?" "We have no way of knowing for sure, but it's possible." "I had no idea. He didn't tell me anything, except that he was sheriff for a while and was an alcoholic, like me. But if he was involved..." Isobel kept her tone docile, casual. "I trust you. I know you won't tell him." The look of disgust on Rosa's face said it all. She muttered something in Spanish about cops and the military, and returned to her artwork. Nasedo and Isobel relaxed, satisfied. She hadn't known about the connection, and now that she did, she knew to be careful. At least, that's what they hoped. Nasedo had an uncanny way of knowing if someone was lying. As far as he knew, Rosa was telling the truth. Once they got out of Roswell, it wouldn't matter anymore, anyways; they'd go somewhere no one knew them, and start over. Once night fell and gave them a reprieve from the incoming summer, Isobel drove them back out to the turquoise mines. Nasedo had discovered a small cave near his own, and decided to gift it to Rosa. It was up a hill and hidden behind some rocks, with smooth walls begging to be canvases. When Rosa saw it, her eyes lit up; Nasedo knew she was thinking the same thing. "But why me?" Rosa wondered, awe in her voice as her fingers traced the fractures in the rock. "Why don't you use it?" Isobel rested a hand on Rosa's back. "Nasedo has one. I don't need it. But you like having secret spots, right? Places to go when you need to be alone? We thought maybe it would be useful when you need to escape for a while." Rosa tackled them in a tight hug. "It's perfect. Thank you." She spun away from them, running her hands along the walls. "I can paint these, have candles here, maybe put a little space for books and art supplies over there..." It took Rosa a couple days to 'move in'. Once she was ready to share, Rosa brought them to the cave; it was a little bit gothic, a little bit romantic, and it suited her perfectly. There were flowers and lyrics painted all along the walls, plush pillows along the floor, and books. Treasures. The lit candles made shadows dance along the walls. It was warm, cozy. There was a faint smell of incense in the air, and it felt like a home. "You can come here whenever you want," Rosa said as Isobel explored the space. "I get you intended it to be for me, but I like sharing with you. And I get the feeling sometimes Nasedo needs to get away from Max." Isobel let out a little snort as Nasedo chuckled from the back of her mind. "Well, you're not wrong there. Thank you." They curled up on some of the pillows with Rosa, shoulder touching as they leaned against one another. Isobel peeked over at Rosa, who was glancing at Isobel's lips. "Can I kiss you?" Rosa grinned and nodded. She slid her hand behind Isobel's neck, leaning in; it was a short kiss, affectionate and pleasant, but it left butterflies in their stomach. Isobel was poised to tease Rosa about how much she was blushing, but then Isobel caught a whiff of something on Rosa's breath. Alcohol. Faint, but there was no doubt. She'd been drinking. Before Isobel could comment, Rosa was pulling out a small atlas with cheer alight in her expression. "I've come up with a list of places I want to visit someday. Wanna see?" "Of course." Maybe I was wrong, Isobel thought to herself. Nasedo didn't agree, but Isobel refused to broach the subject. She couldn't smell it anymore, and Rosa was bubbling over traveling to California, New York, and Paris someday, and how she would take them with her. She was genuinely happy. Why ruin the mood? They would ask her about it later. The way Rosa spoke, it was like she was planning to leave Roswell with them. She didn't say anything for sure, but that was alright; there was still time until graduation, after all. In the meantime, they wrote her little notes. Sometimes it was sweet sentiments, or a little doodle, or a bit of poetry or lyrics that they thought Rosa would enjoy. They slipped the notes into her jacket pocket or the covers of the books she was packing so that she would find them later, when she was settling into her hideaway. They signed the notes 'Ophiuchus'. At first, Rosa seemed thrilled. As time went on, though, the joy on Rosa's face faded. "I have something to do after work," Rosa said when Nasedo called her one night. "Maybe we can plan for something tomorrow?" Nasedo frowned. Something was wrong; there was a note of distress in Rosa's tone. "Are you alright?" "Yeah, yeah. My dad's really getting on my nerves, you know? Let's get together tomorrow." They went to the movies the next day, with dinner after. Isobel knew Rosa well enough to see that she was distracted. Agitated. She didn't seem angry, but she did seem nervous, and jittery. Isobel caught the distinct sour, heavy scent of booze on her. They waited until they were back in the car before Nasedo took over, wording what he was about to say with every ounce of care possible. "Rosa," he said, gentling his voice, "I'm glad we got to spend time together. I noticed you've been having a hard time tonight, though. Do you want to talk?" "No. I've got it under control. I just wanna have fun tonight." "Alright. If you change your mind, I'll be here for you." "Yeah." Rosa fell silent for a time, then sighed. "I've been drinking again. I know, I know. I suck. But things have been awful, and these people are trying to push me back into dealing. They've been hounding me since prom, right? It's been hell." Nasedo resisted the urge to growl. "Who are these people?" "It's okay. I'll handle it." "But if you're relapsing--" "I said I can handle it! What are you, my father?" Opening his mouth, Nasedo shut it again. "I'm sorry, Rosa. I'm sorry that I upset you." "No, don't apologize." Rosa shook her head. "I'm sorry, too. Let's go home. I should try and get some sleep or something, maybe I'll be less cranky tomorrow." And that's how it was. Tomorrow, tomorrow, tomorrow. Everything would be better tomorrow, somehow, but they couldn't deny that Rosa was crashing. Something had happened, but she wouldn't tell them what. When she stopped responding to their texts, they went looking for her. Not at the school, not at work, not anywhere she'd normally be. Nasedo took them out to the turquoise mines, where they found her in her cave. She was curled up around a bottle of whiskey, half empty. "Rosa?" "Go away." Her words were slurred. "Wanna be alone." "I want to help. Please." "Can help by going away. Don't wanna talk right now." "You have been dodging us for almost a week, Rosa. How did you even get out here? There's no car." When she didn't reply, Nasedo felt a tremor of desperation. He lifted his hand and clenched it into a fist, pulling the arm back; the bottle of booze yanked from Rosa's hands and moved into his other hand. "Rosa, I can't let you destroy yourself. Please, talk to me." Rosa stared at Nasedo, her eyes suddenly sober. "What the fuck? Why did you do that?" "Because you're relapsing, hard, and I care about you too much to watch you kill yourself when we're so close to escaping from this place. It's so close to graduation." "I never said I was leaving with you." "You..." It felt like a slap in the face, but they had only been together for two months. It made sense that Rosa wasn't ready yet. "Okay. That's fair. But do you really want to stay here?" "Just get out. Leave me alone. If I need help, I'll fucking ask for it." "At least let me drive you back into town." Rosa slumped. She nodded, struggling to her feet and cursing under her breath; Nasedo reached out to steady her, but she yanked away and kept walking. They didn't speak on the way to the Crashdown. That was the way of things, though. Addicts hated confrontation, hated being made to face their addiction. They couldn't force her to let them help, so they took her to the cafe, waited for her to get inside, and left. "We'll give her a day or two to calm down," Isobel said soothingly as they got ready for bed. "I'm sure once she's slept it off, we'll be able to talk to her. There are some clinics in town. If we find a place for her to go, they might help her." "And if she won't?" "Then we love her, and support her until she chooses to accept help." Nasedo frowned, brushing out their hair. "I'm scared for her. I think, what if it was you? What if it was you, and you wouldn't let me help you? And it hurts. If I lost either of you, I'd..." "Hey. You won't lose either of us. Drugs and alcohol make you say and do some really mean things. You'll see. We'll visit her tomorrow, and things will be better." It was a comfort. It was also false. Isobel dressed them in black before they headed to the Crashdown. It made them look sleek, powerful, sexy, and they felt stronger in it. Isobel had written down the name and number of a drug and alcohol clinic nearby, and she had a speech prepared in her head. The next day was graduation, and after that they could focus fully on trying to keep Rosa safe. For now, they could at least try to talk some sense into her, if she was sober. By the time they got to the cafe, though, it was clear that things weren't going to go as planned. Standing in the back alley, Rosa was staring at her car, crying into her hands. Isobel glanced it over, realizing that someone had vandalized it. "Rosa?" "Not now." "Who did this?" "It was Kate and Jasmine. They're pissed that I stopped partying." Rosa sniffled, leaning against Isobel as she walked over. "They've been threatening to turn my dad over to ICE, and if he gets deported I don't know what we'll do." Nasedo pushed his way forward, taking over the body through pure, raw fury. "They're threatening your family? They're threatening you?" "Look, it doesn't matter. I don't I don't want Liz to see this, okay? She said that she needed the car this afternoon, and I just don't want her to worry." "At least let me help you clean it up." Her voice was odd. Cold, distant. "Don't. I'm fine. I don't need your help." "Hey. Did I do something wrong? I understand that yesterday sucked, but I didn't mean to scare you." "No, you didn't. Life just sucks. I thought Kate was my friend, but I guess I'm only her supplier. And my mom sucks, and Liz is gonna leave, and I found out that my dad..." Sighing, Rosa closed her eyes as Nasedo reached out. She let him touch her check, but then seemed to shake him off. Rosa looked up at him. She frowned, drawing away and curling her arms around herself as she backed towards the cafe. "You know, you're just, you're a lot. You're too much, and I can't... I can't handle it." Rosa turned and bolted into the cafe, the door slamming and locking behind her. Nasedo's hand still hung in the air; he dropped it to their side, staring at the spot where Rosa had stood mere moments before. She was scared. Overwhelmed. But he hadn't done anything wrong, right? He'd only been trying to help. He loved her. He'd do anything to keep her safe. Didn't she understand that? Anything. ... Anything. Nasedo turned on his heels and stormed towards their car, throwing himself behind the driver's seat and heading out to the road. He knew what he had to do. What must be done. All he had to do was find them. A Saturday night in Roswell? There was only one place. A small, pleading voice registered from the back of their mind. "Nasedo." "Quiet, Isobel." "Nasedo, whatever you're planning--" He gathered his strength and pushed her out. She didn't need to be there for this. She didn't need to see what was about to happen. She would only get in the way. Nasedo parked at the drive in movie theater, reclining in the warmth and waiting. It didn't take long, not in comparison to decades of rotting away in a pod. The horizon in the east turned dark, and the sunset in the west splashed gold and crimson and purple across the sky. That was when his attention landed on a pair of giggling, vapid humans. Smiling to himself, Nasedo got out of the car and crossed the parking lot towards them. "Hey Kate. Jasmine." Kate was the one to look over first. Her face was fair enough, but the sneer on her face revealed her ugliness. "Evans." She crossed her arms. "What do you want?" Nasedo shrugged. "Heard you were having some trouble getting your fix." "So? Aren't you friends with that little Mexican bitch?" "I thought maybe I'd help you out instead." "You?" Jasmine let out a bark of a laugh. "You do drugs?" Smiling, Nasedo twirled a lock of hair around his finger. "I know how to have a good time." The girls glanced at each other. Kate shrugged, which was all the convincing Jasmine needed. It was easy enough to lure them out into the desert, towards the mines. No one noticed two silly teenagers going off in the night. It was harder getting them to follow him, but the promise of fun proved too alluring. Well, it wasn't his fault they assumed it would be fun for them. It was almost too easy. He waited until they were ahead of him, and he used his power to twist their bones. Cut off their oxygen and blood. Jasmine was first, her neck breaking like so much glass under the sharp strike of a hammer. Kate turned in time to see it happen. Good. The horror on her face, the scent of it rushing through her energy, was electrifying. "Jasmine! What did you do to her?!" Nasedo grinned, baring his teeth as he prowled towards Kate. "The same thing I'm going to do to you." There was a moment of realization in Kate's eyes, but he flicked his wrist before she even blinked, and it was over. The air was silent. Still. Nasedo took in the sight of the bodies, trembling as he breathed in a rush of power. He'd never felt anything similar. Not that it was a psychological rush, or emotional even, but... Physical. He felt it in his body. It was like a weight lifting off his chest, or being able to breathe after struggling underwater. Something was different. But what? A sound made Nasedo pause. A sound, but farther away. It wouldn't have been audible to a human's sense of hearing, but he would recognize the sound anywhere. Crying. Distress. He turned his head towards the mines, pursing his lips. Rosa. Nasedo left the bodies where they lay, running towards Rosa's cave. Had she seen? Heard? Was she hurt? Countless scenarios went through his head. But as he got closer, the mystery only deepened. Rosa was throwing things around, growling. "What the hell? Where is it?!" She spun around when she spotted Nasedo. Her hands balled into fists, and there was fury rolling off her in waves. "Did you steal my backpack?" "We didn't steal anything from you." "You're the only ones who knew it was here! Damn it, I need to find it. Now." "I swear, we didn't take it. Why is it so important?" "Look..." Running her hands through her hair, Rosa hung her head and let out a slow exhale. "I get that you care about me, but I have to leave on my own. I need to get clean on my own. I got a ticket to go see Valenti, and I'm going to have him help me. He promised to help with my dad's citizenship, too." "Even after everything his family has done? You know what he'd do to us if he found out." "So I won't mention you. He'll help me. He's my real father, okay? He cheated with my mom, and she had me. That's why he wants to see me so bad. He's my father." The words hung in the air. Nasedo stared at Rosa, searching her face and energy for any sort of deception. None. It seemed laughable, but Rosa was avoiding his eyes. She was serious. "So you're going to trust what he says. A cheater and a liar." "I know that you don't want me to go, but I have to. I won't tell him anything, it's...I just need to figure things out in case Kate and Jasmine do something." Unwise words formed on his tongue. "What if they were out of the picture? If you didn't have to worry?" "What do you mean?" "If they were gone, would you stay?" "Gone." Rosa finally locked her gaze with his. "What do you mean by gone? What did you do to them?" Nasedo opened his mouth to answer, but he faltered. Why was it so hard to say it? It had felt so good, so right, at the time. Now he wasn't so sure. "Rosa, they wanted to hurt you. I felt it off them. So I hurt them first." Before he could say anything else, Rosa bolted. He ran after her, knowing that if she got too far outside the cave, she would see the bodies. No, no... But it was too late. She'd frozen a few yards from them, her hands covering her mouth as she let out a cry. Nasedo tried to understand, but he couldn't. She hated them. They hated her. They had planned to hurt her and her family. Why was she upset? "They're dead," Rosa choked out. She turned to him, tears in her eyes. "You killed them." "I wanted to protect you. I wanted to keep you safe." "You don't do that by murdering people!" "Please, Rosa. If they hurt you or your family when I was capable of doing something..." Nasedo stepped forward, and Rosa stepped backward. He hesitated. "You don't have to be scared of me, Rosa. I promise. Just come back, and I'll take care of this and we can talk. I'll even take you to Valenti if you want. Just come back." Rosa skittered away from the bodies, wiping her face with her hand. "Okay," she whimpered. "Okay. I'll come back with you. Let's go talk." But when she reached out to take his hand, Nasedo could feel it. Fear, disgust. Deception. "You're lying." His hand tightened around her wrist. "Why are you lying to me? What are you hiding?" "Let go of me, Nasedo." "You're going to tell him, aren't you?" "I don't know what you're talking about!" "Valenti!" Nasedo yelled, yanking Rosa to him. "You're going to run off and tell him. You promised, Rosa! You promised to keep our secret." "You killed two people! How can I trust you when you're a murderer?" "I did it for you!" Rosa struggled, scratching at him to try and get away. She was going to tell. She was going to tell, and there was only one option left. Nasedo felt his eyes sting as he pulled Rosa to his chest, one hand around her neck and the other over her mouth. She was trying to fight, but it didn't matter. He had her. It would be over soon. Isobel was fighting for control, screaming for him to stop. Oh, stars, his heart was shattering. "I did it for you," he whispered as his throat squeezed shut and tears slid down his cheeks. He didn't know if he was talking to Rosa, Isobel, or both. "Everything I did, I did for you." His hand glowed red as searing heat tore through his body, flowing into Rosa and curling through her brain and heart. One heartbeat, two, and her body went limp. Her eyes, so beautiful, gazed sightless towards the stars. Nasedo felt a sob catch in his chest, his head throbbing with pain as Isobel fought against him with everything in her. Something was changing inside them. Breaking. There was movement in front of him. A familiar form, staring at him in shock. "Isobel?" Michael called out. Nasedo's head shook, just a touch; Michael took in a sharp breath, and Nasedo sensed that he had figured it out, somehow. Michael didn't move closer, but he didn't back away, either. He just stared at Rosa's body with something like sorrow on his face. "What happened?" "She couldn't be trusted." He was losing control of the body, and so Nasedo did the only thing he knew to do. The one small, merciful thing, the last act of love he could manage before he was thrown out completely. Nasedo reached deep into Isobel's mind, and erased everything. Closing his eyes, he fell into the black pit of unconsciousness.

A Place To Call Home, Ch 5.

Fandom: Rosewell, New Mexico.

Summary: A canon divergent take on Roswell, New Mexico, and the relationships  between Isobel, Noah, and Rosa; later parts will shift the focus to  Michael and Alex, as well as Michael and Noah. What is it like to share a  body with another alien? Can broken trust be mended? Do the ends really  justify the means?  

Rating: M.

Tags: Canon divergence, minor  character death, not really character death, body sharing, polyamory,  hurt/comfort, addiction problems, sickfic, revenge, fix it, friends to  enemies to lovers, lovers to enemies to lovers, Noah is complicated, cw:  dubious age stuff for a little bit considering Nasedo/Noah is  who-the-hell-knows how old.

Word Count: 2902

The drive to the turquoise mines was long, and silent.

It was late by the time they got there. Without a doubt, people would be looking for them both before long. Neither of them seemed to care, and why would they? Rosa's family didn't seem to understand. Isobel's brothers seemed callous to Isobel's distress. It was just them, the desert, and the stars glimmering to life above them. What more, who more, did they need?

"You're not gonna like, murder me and bury my body here are you?" Rosa asked as they hiked towards the tunnels. "That'd kinda suck."

Nasedo frowned. "I'd never hurt you, Rosa." He paused at the entrance of the mine, the one where his pod-- and true body-- were hidden. Taking Rosa's hand, he gently turned her to face him. "I need you to believe that. Okay? I love you, and I want to keep you safe. Alright?"

Rosa tilted her head. "I love you, too. Izzie, are you okay?"

"We'll see."

He led her into the cave, those four words giving him some sort of hope. I love you, too. There were a few twists and turns, but then the darkness gave way to the soft, silver and gold glow of the pod. Rosa stopped in her tracks when she saw it, her grip on his hand tightening to an almost painful degree.

"Izzie... What... What is that?"

"Nasedo."

"What?"

He closed his eyes a moment, steeling himself. "My name is Nasedo. In 1947, a spaceship crashed in Roswell. I was one of the only survivors, along with Isobel and her brothers. That is a stasis pod. Theirs eventually opened. Mine was damaged, and the only way I can access the outside world is through the mental connection between me and Isobel. We share her body. That's why sometimes she seems different. Because it's me, not her."

No answer. Nasedo risked a glance at Rosa; she was staring at the pod, lips parted and her breathing faster than normal. But she didn't move. She didn't scream, or run, or lash out. She... looked. When she finally moved, it was to step towards the pod. He let go of her hand as she did, watching as she oh so lightly rested her hand on the pod. The light wavered, and for a split second, it was possible to see his body inside.

Rosa let out a gasp and yanked her hand away, spinning around to look at him. "You're an alien. An actual alien."

"Isobel and I both, yes."

"You... You're aliens sharing a body."

"We are."

"For how long?"

"Five years."

"So, this whole time that we've been..." Rosa stopped, pressing her hands to her forehead. For a moment, Nasedo felt a surge of fear. But then she exhaled a long, slow breath and sat down on the cave floor. "Explain again. Start at the beginning."

Well, that was something he could do. Nasedo sat across from Rosa. He started with his people fleeing from war and violence, the stowaway, the crash. How the military came in and killed, as far as he knew, everyone. How he hid the three children away, and managed to hide himself, but withered and decayed with time. Finally hearing Isobel, and trying to save her. Realizing he could enter her body and mind, control the body when Isobel retreated into herself. How they learned, in time, to work together and share a life. How they had both fallen in love with Rosa.

"And here we are," Nasedo said quietly. "I'm sorry that we didn't tell you. We were worried that if we said anything, you'd think we were crazy. Or worse, that you'd believe us and turn us in."

Toying with a loose thread at the corner of her jacket, Rosa stared down at the dirt. She didn't speak at first. When she did, her voice was shaking. "I don't... I need some time to process." Her eyes wandered to the pod. "I won't tell anyone. I'll keep your secret."

It was tempting to ask about their relationship, but Nasedo knew better than to try. She needed time. "Thank you," he replied. "Is there anything I can do?"

"Can we get out of here?"

Nodding, Nasedo led Rosa back out of the cave. At least she let him take her hand; she didn't seem afraid, so much as deep in thought.

Isobel was nowhere in sight. It seemed that he would have to handle the rest of the night on his own, and deal with Isobel's likely anger in the morning; they hadn't discussed this, hadn't planned for it, and he knew that would play poorly with Isobel's anxiety. Not that he blamed her. It was a risky move. At least for the time being, things were okay. Maybe not ideal-- understandable, considering most humans would probably need time to adjust-- but they didn't seem to be in danger.

They were back in the car and heading into town when Rosa glanced at him. "Hey. Do you wanna go to Sander's Auto? He lets me paint up his old scrap cars sometimes. I just... Need something average right now."

He couldn't refuse. The junkyard was familiar, and art was Rosa's release; if it made her feel better, who was he to say no? Nasedo murmured an affirmative, and they pulled into the yard soon after. It was late. No one was there. It didn't matter much, since the man who owned the property was notoriously lax with security, and Michael worked for him in exchange for parking his truck there. Isobel being there wouldn't be suspect at all.

Light from the full moon cast a milky glow over everything it touched. Nasedo looked around as they got out of the car, seeing little hints of Rosa all over as they wandered inside. Flowers doodled on signs, a heart carved into a wooden post, poetry and quotes painted onto rusted out cars. It was a bit like the desert itself. Barren, filled with erosion and decay, but scattered with small moments of beauty.

Rosa found a big van, yellow with dented side doors. She opened the van and set her knapsack inside, pulling out spraypaint. Nasedo sat in the van, watching. Watching and listening. Rosa began to talk about art, her favorite artists and her favorite mediums, what paint she liked best and how some places spoke to her in a away she didn't really understand. The longer she spoke, the stronger she sounded. Less afraid, more passionate. Intoxicating.

"What?"

Nasedo blinked, realizing that he'd been caught staring. "I'm sorry. I love hearing you talk about this stuff. Have you considered going to art school or something?"

"Actually..." Rosa ducked her head and smiled. "I have thought about going to Paris and studying art there. It's a silly dream I've always had."

"It sounds like a beautiful dream."

"Yeah? And what are your dreams?"

"Oh, I don't know." Nasedo brought his knees up to his chest. He peered up at the stars. "My old home, I was a sort of... defender, but I've lost my taste for war. Maybe I'd be a lawyer instead."

"And Isobel?"

"She wants to be an event planner. She watched 27 Dresses as a kid and saw herself in it."

Rosa came back to her knapsack, choosing different paints. Black and red. "Well, who knows. Maybe we'll all make our dreams come true."

Nasedo smiled up at her, then looked to what she pulled from the knapsack next. "You brought a UFO stencil with you in your runaway supplies?"

"Maybe it's silly, but it means a lot to me."

"It's not silly at all. What's the story behind it?"

"When I was little, my friend's mother talked about aliens all the time. We thought she was sick. Maybe she wasn't." Rosa eyed the van, finally finding a place to work. Nasedo followed; he held the stencil in place while she painted. "Mimi would always say that we're not alone. That's why I made this stencil, I guess. And why I wanted to take it with me. As a reminder."

"You're not alone, Rosa."

Rosa sighed. She dropped her arms, eyeing her work before turning to Nasedo. There was conflict in those deep brown eyes, but she just sniffled and shrugged. "Wanna try?"

"She'll kill me if I ruin her dress."

"Blame me."

"Rosa..."

They looked at one another, and for a moment, Rosa stepped closer. But then she stepped past him and headed to the other side of the van. Nasedo followed and chose the red paint, drawing the same symbol he'd drawn on the gazebo post. Circle, circle, circle. Lines connecting.

Rosa leaned against his shoulder, taking the can of spraypaint when he was done. "What does it mean? Really?"

"It's a map of our home. I've never told anyone before."

"Not even Isobel?" Rosa asked. Nasedo shook his head; it was better to not tell her, to give her a chance at a normal life. Sitting in the van, Rosa patted the space next to her. "Tell me about it."

Nasedo curled up next to Rosa, telling her everything he remembered of home. Antar was one of the main star systems of their government, along with Shau and Sarga. Their home planet was in the middle, a picturesque world at one time, ruled by wise and fair leaders. The planet had lush, sprawling gardens, filled with bright flowers and birds and insects. But then a young king took over. Well meaning, but irresponsible. Selfish. He was so blinded by his own way of doing things, he didn't pay attention to the unrest. Finally, he and his siblings were murdered by a rebel leader. Their cells were cloned, and their family fled with the cells maturing in stasis pods.

Somewhere along the way, they had sprawled backwards, holding hands and watching the sky. Every so often, a meteor would breeze through in a shower of green and white. When he spoke of the deaths, Rosa squeezed his hand.

"Died and resurrected, like the holy men of old," Nasedo whispered to himself, squeezing back. "And they have no idea. None. It's why they have no memories. They were a desperate attempt to save our royal line."

"That's awful. Do you remember them, from before?"

"Rath was explosive. Temperamental, stubborn, but protective and good hearted. Vilandra, she was elegant and beautiful. She was powerful. Intense. And Zan, our King... Well, as I said. He was ineffective. There was another, Ava. His wife. But she..." He thought back to the night of the crash and shivered. "She formed a pact with the rebel who murdered the rest. What happened to her, I have no clue."

Rosa nestled closer. They kept talking into the night about his world's music, fashion. Good memories. Happier times. Somehow, Nasedo ended up drifting off; the next time he stirred, Rosa was nudging him with her shoulder. Sunlight streamed through the open doors of the van. It was morning; they had stayed out all night, and Isobel was slowly stirring. God, their neck...

Rosa stroked their hair, pushing it our of their face. "I'm gonna go get us some breakfast, okay?"

"Mmhm..."

Shimmying out of the van, Nasedo could hear the car start and the motor fade away. He sighed, closing his eyes and trying to stretch their back. It had only been five minutes when he heard another car approaching. A familiar rumbling engine. Suddenly, he found himself shoved out of front and to the side as Isobel surged into control. He could feel her panic as she shot up, scrambling for some sort of explanation as Michael and Max approached. They weren't supposed to be there, they shouldn't have been there, why--

"Isobel?" Max yelled. "Oh, what the hell?!"

Michael stopped, pointing at Isobel's hands. "Wait. Is that...?"

Isobel looked down. Their hands were stained a bright red. "No. I think it's paint."

Max narrowed his eyes. "Were you with Rosa?"

"Are you on something right now?" Michael asked at the same time.

"No!" Isobel denied. Her voice was strained; Nasedo tried to get around her, wanting to help, but she pushed him away. "I don't know how I got here."

"Stop lying! That's Rosa's art. We know she sells drugs." Max was clenching his hands. He was loud, too loud. Too demanding. "Just tell us the truth."

Isobel grit her teeth. Panic was being replaced by fury. "You know, my life is none of your business, Max. You've made that very clear."

"We just spent all night--"

"You're leaving me! You're going halfway across the planet. What about me? What am I supposed to do?"

"Live your life!" Max threw his arms into the air. "Grow up! We're not abandoning you."

Grow up. Isobel blinked in shock, trying to process what she'd heard. They had heard Max and Michael say she was just after attention. They had heard Max scoff and dismiss Isobel's problems and worries before. But... Grow up? For years, she had been trying to survive her trauma, keep their secret, deal with their parents, try and try and try to find a place in the world with few people to rely on but her brothers. Grow up? She'd grown up that night, at fourteen.

She got up and fled before Nasedo could wrestle control back. How dare he, how could he, what did I do to deserve that, I've only ever tried to be a good sister, what am I supposed to do. Her thoughts were swirling too fast for him to get in a word. She wasn't listening, storming down the dirt road without aim, until a car came their way. Rosa.

"Hey, what..." Rosa poked her head out the window. When she saw their state, she reached to the passenger side and opened the lock. "I was coming back to get you. Hop in."

Isobel slid into the car and slammed the door. The smell of coffee and hashbrowns filled the air; they were starving, but Isobel crossed her arms and folded in on herself, refusing to talk. Rosa didn't press. She turned around and headed back into town. As Isobel started to relax, her rage at Max simmered down to an annoyance at Nasedo; he had shared only enough of his memories to explain, leaving out exactly what had been discussed in the junkyard.

Rosa parked in a quiet lot lined with trees. She unwrapped her breakfast sandwich, nibbling on it and glancing at Isobel in her peripheral vision. Isobel picked up the one Rosa had brought her and stared down at it, trying to calm her mind.

"So," Isobel finally said, "he told you."

"He did."

Isobel tried to reply, but all that came out was a choked sob. "He didn't even ask. No one asks me about anything anymore. I'm sick of everyone deciding my life for me."

"Woah, Izzie. What's going on?" Rosa reached out, resting a hand on Isobel's shoulder. Isobel slumped over, pressing her face against Rosa's shoulder and crying. "It's gonna be okay. I'm here, alright? We'll figure this out together. Promise."

It was difficult to eat, and Isobel didn't allow Nasedo to do it for her. He was, officially, in the dog house. Still, she managed to get it down. Once they were both done, Rosa fired up the car and drove to the Evans' home. No one else was home. It was safe. Rosa walked them to the door; she offered a hug, and Isobel took it. So smelled like dust and sagebrush, and Isobel allowed herself to relax a little.

"Nasedo said I wasn't alone," Rosa whispered. "You're not gonna be alone, either, Isobel."

"You say that now."

"I mean it. I'm not leaving you. Either of you."

Isobel pulled back, rubbing her eyes with the back of her hand. She tried to smile. It felt flat, but Rosa stroked her cheek and things seemed a tiny bit less dire, anyways. "Thank you, Rosa. For everything."

"I know what it's like to be judged. It's totally not punk, you know?"

Rosa gave Isobel a kiss on the cheek. They said their goodbyes and Rosa headed to the diner, while Isobel headed inside to clean up. Nasedo hung around in the back of her mind, waiting until she felt like addressing him. It took hours, but once she slumped into her bed after a long shower, she sighed and turned her attention to him.

"I wish you would have warned me."

"I'm sorry. You weren't responding and she was going to leave."

"I know, I know..." Isobel closed her eyes and leaned back against their pillows. "She seemed to take it pretty well."

Nasedo fell quiet again, then remembered a tiny bit of conversation that puzzled him. "Isobel, why does the name Valenti sound familiar?"

Isobel opened her eyes. "Valenti?"

"Rosa said some man named Valenti was going to help her get clean."

"All this time and you don't remember? Valenti. Kyle Valenti. It has to be his father, but that's..." Isobel swallowed. "Why would she be involved with him?

"Isobel?"

She bit her lip. "Kyle's father is-- was in the military. He's friends with Alex's dad, that homophobic military bigot. Their ancestors were at the Roswell crash."

Nasedo felt his heart sink. "Do you think she knows?"

"I don't know, but we need to find out. Fast."

(source)

this video really helped me feel more confident that i was washing my hands the right way

A Place To Call Home, Ch 4.

Fandom: Rosewell, New Mexico.

Summary: A canon divergent take on Roswell, New Mexico, and the relationships between Isobel, Noah, and Rosa; later parts will shift the focus to Michael and Alex, as well as Michael and Noah. What is it like to share a body with another alien? Can broken trust be mended? Do the ends really justify the means?

Rating: M.

Tags: Canon divergence, minor character death, not really character death, body sharing, polyamory, hurt/comfort, addiction problems, sickfic, revenge, fix it, friends to enemies to lovers, lovers to enemies to lovers, Noah is complicated, cw: dubious age stuff for a little bit considering Nasedo/Noah is who-the-hell-knows how old.

Word Count: 2333

Love, Nasedo had always thought, was often a weakness.

It felt good, there was no question about that. Every time they saw Rosa, there was a giddy, bubbly feeling that rose in their chest, and it felt as if electricity was running through them every time Rosa looked at them with that smile that she reserved only for them. Isobel was happy. Nasedo was happy. But it was that happiness that bred complacency. And  complacency? Complacency was dangerous.

"We'll tell her," Isobel decided the night after their second date, "if it gets serious."

They had gone to two movies in two weeks. Nothing else had happened. But they both knew, even if they hadn't talked about it, that they were already hopelessly attached. It was an unfortunate mechanism built into their biology; their species, while not necessarily monogamous, formed deep relationships with others after an emotional connection. Those connections were often lifelong, and they were not easily broken. In many cases, they lasted even beyond the death of the person. It wasn't anything to treat lightly, and Nasedo knew-- as Isobel knew-- that  'serious' was just around the corner. That was, if Rosa felt the same way.

If. 'If' was the only thing between their secret, and potential disaster.

It was the concept of everyone else finding out that was Isobel's true fear. Early May, Max almost saw texts from Rosa when he borrowed Isobel's phone for something; the next day, Isobel broke down before history class, and Nasedo steered them out to the bleachers. It was a warm, sunny day, and he stretched out with their sunglasses on and earphones in, listening to Isobel's favorite music. They were finally starting to relax when a shadow blocked out the light.

"Whatcha doing? You're supposed to be in AP History."

Nasedo cracked open an eye and glowered at Max. Although Nasedo had sworn to protect the prince, and would do so if only for Isobel's sake, he found the boy an annoyance. "You're blocking my sun."

"You get one more truancy, you'll be banned from the prom."

"I don't care about prom."

"Okay. Who are you right now?"

Oh, if only Max knew. Nasedo gave him a little goodbye wave and put the earphones back in, smiling as Max walked away with a frown marring that  pretty face of his. The brief amusement was short-lived. At some point, Isobel was going to have to say something to her brothers. If they were going to exist together for long-term, perhaps for their whole lives, it wasn't a secret she could keep forever. Michael already looked at them in a way that made Nasedo suspicious. Michael was a firebrand, reminding Nasedo of himself; he was angry, violent, chaotic, and too smart for his own good. It was only a matter of time, Nasedo was convinced, before Michael figured them out. And without a doubt, he'd tell Max. He told Max everything.

Unfortunately, Max had been right. Principal Markham pulled them into her office, banning Isobel from prom. Nasedo sighed. Isobel would fix things later. He took them home after school, locking them in their room to make up the homework they'd missed. Stupid rules. They had a perfect 4.0 GPA, who cared if they missed a few classes?

Isobel's parents, apparently. The minute they heard what happened, they started in on the snooty lectures and pointless threats. Nasedo nodded and muttered some platitudes. Whatever would get them to shut up. He was relieved when nighttime fell, and he was able to get ready for bed. Isobel hadn't returned; he couldn't blame her. Well, sometimes she needed a night, and he was content to curl up with ice cream and a trashy novel. It was a few minutes past 10pm when Isobel's phone buzzed.

I need you. Crashdown, roof.

Rosa. Nasedo rolled out of bed and threw on some clothes, slinking out the window and into the night. He rushed to the Crashdown, climbing the fire escape to get to the roof. No one was there. Perching under the sign, Nasedo gazed up to the sky and waited. Soon, he sense the familiar presence he'd come to treasure. Rosa hopped up to sit next to him,  letting out a long, defeated sigh.

"I'm so glad you're here. I had such a crap day."

Nasedo smiled as Rosa twined her fingers with his. "Me, too. But, hey, it's over now." He lifted his hand, bringing Rosa's with it, and pointed to a collection of stars. "Look. I found my favorite constellation. It's a man and a serpent. Maybe the man's killing the serpent, maybe the serpent's killing the man. You can't tell where the man ends and the snake begins."

"What's it called?"

"Ophiuchus."

Resting her head on Nasedo's shoulder, she let out a soft hum. "I love it. Where's Pisces?"

"There." He pointed to the constellation. "Is it your sign?"

"Mhm. It looks like an arrow."

"I'm sorry I missed your birthday this year. We'll have to do something special next year," Nasedo said, before realizing what that implied. "I  mean, if..."

"Izzie?"

"Yeah?"

Grinning, Rosa leaned in and kissed Nasedo on the cheek. "Thank you."

Blinking, he touched the spot where her lips had been. Nasedo opened his mouth to say something, anything, but suddenly they were kissing for real. Rosa had grabbed the front of Isobel's jacket and tugged them together; Nasedo closed his eyes, kissing her back. Her lips were warm, gentle, and she smelled of patchouli. Her hair was soft under his touch, and she smiled against his mouth as he trailed his fingers through it. Oh, it felt perfect. It felt right. But then she was pulling back, murmuring something that Nasedo barely heard.

"We should go before my dad comes looking for me."

Nasedo stroked her cheek. He didn't want to go, he never wanted to go, but it was true enough. Isobel would be furious if they got discovered. "Will you be alright?"

"I will now." Rosa's cheek were flushed as she stood and gave Nasedo's hand a light squeeze. She ducked her head, eyes bright. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight, Rosa."

Heading down the fire escape, Nasedo was halfway down when Rosa popped her head over the side of the building. "Hey! Movie night tomorrow. Your choice."

"Last House On The Left?" Nasedo suggested. Rosa loved horror movies. "Text me what time your shift ends."

"It's a date."

By the time Nasedo got home and got back into bed, his heart felt light as a feather and filled with warmth. Maybe love could feel like fireworks for him, after all. Isobel was back in the morning, muttering to herself about not getting the first kiss. It was good-natured, of course. Everything was... fine. It seemed like, just maybe, life was looking up and everything would work itself out in the end. All that was left was one tiny little thing.

Telling Rosa.

"I don't feel comfortable kissing someone who doesn't know who she's kissing," Nasedo said as they got ready to head to the Crashdown. 6pm, time to pick up Rosa. "It's not right."

So, the plan was to go to the movie, get some dinner after, and then take Rosa to the roof and tell her there. It wasn't totally private, but it was quiet and would give both parties an easy way to escape if necessary. Hopefully, it wouldn't be. They had both waited so long to  tell someone, they were all but bouncing in anticipation by the time they got to the Crashdown. They could do it. They would do it. It would  be okay. Except...

... Max. Max, who was supposed to be off with friends, was right there.

Isobel turned to run back out before Max could see, but it was too late. He shouted to her, waving her over. Nasedo got shoved out of front, the opposite of their usual way of handling tings. Was it because Isobel knew how much Nasedo disliked Max? Most likely, but damn it he at least needed to see and hear what was going on. By the time he  managed to crawl his way back in, it was just in time to hear Isobel pretend to not know Rosa, and rush out of the cafe towards Max's car.

"What did you do?" Nasedo hissed. "Isobel!"

"I panicked! She brought up our date right in front of Max, and I... Oh, god. What did I do? How do I fix this?"

"Go back in there and apologize!"

But Max was already coming out of the cafe, and Isobel had to fake wanting to go home. Once they were there, she tried to text Rosa. No reply. Rosa wasn't at any of her usual places the next day, and she wasn't at school on Monday. Isobel curled up on their bed and cried; Nasedo could feel their heart breaking, but he knew it was probably nothing compared to what Rosa was feeling. Isobel wrote a longer email, explaining that she panicked because she wasn't out to Max yet, and was worried that it would get back to Kyle-- Liz's boyfriend and the school's biggest homophobe. She was sorry, terribly sorry, and would do anything to make it up to Rosa.

A whole week went by, with no word. Prom loomed. Isobel managed to mind-bend her way back into the principal's good  graces, and ended up going to the dance with Max and Michael. Isobel and Nasedo figured they could have some fun and try to numb the sadness for a little, but then Max opened his mouth about leaving Roswell, and Isobel fell apart. She stormed away, finding a dark corner to huddle into; Nasedo eased his way into control, just as Michael approached.

"You okay?" he asked, offering a cup of punch.

Nasedo turned his head away from it. "I'll be fine. I need a moment."

For a long moment, Michael said nothing. His eyes met theirs, and there was some emotion in Michael’s expression that Nasedo hadn't quite noticed before. Something he couldn't identify. Whatever it was, Michael just shrugged. "Look, I don't know if this is your scene right now or not. If you want to go, I'll cover for you."

Nodding, Nasedo headed for the second exit, the one away from Max. He'd have to thank Michael later. For now, he knew what he wanted to do. What he needed to do, and Isobel had been too nervous to try. He headed towards the Crashdown. It looked closed, but the door was still open. At first, he didn’t see Rosa, but then she came out from the back with a knapsack in hand. When she saw him, she froze.

“Izzie...” Rosa trailed off and narrowed her eyes. “We’re closed.”

Nasedo took a step closer. “I came to apologize in person. I know I screwed up, Rosa. Please, can we talk?”

“What’s there to talk about? I don’t want to be your dirty little secret, Izzie. I thought I’d be okay with it, with us keeping things hidden,  but... But it really hurt. I don’t want to be something you’re ashamed  of. We both deserve better than that.”

“I’m not ashamed of you. You are amazing, and I want nothing more than to be who I am with you all of the time. I love you.”

“You... Izzie, you can’t just say that if you don’t mean it.”

“I mean it.”

Silence fell over them both as Rosa stared up at him, eyes wide. Finally, she managed to sputter out a reply. “I was going to leave town for a while. There’s this guy, he says he could help me stay clean. It’s been really hard, and I just... I just need someone to be here for me.”

Nasedo felt his stomach churn. “A guy?”

“Not that kind of guy. His name is Valenti. He’s kind of a father figure to me, you know? I thought if you didn’t want me here...”

“I do want you here. I want you to be with me.”

“I want to be with you, too, but I can’t hide forever. It’s not me.”

“So run away with me instead.” Nasedo blurted out the thought before he could think. “It’s less than a month until I graduate. If you can hang on until then, we can leave here. Start a new life somewhere else, somewhere better. You and me.”

Rosa slowly set down her knapsack. “Really? Are you sure?

“I am.”

“What about Max? Michael?”

“They’re leaving after graduation, anyways. Even if they weren’t, we... I need to make my own path. I want you by my side on that path.”

“Well.” Rosa shook her head, sitting down on one of the bar stools. “When you make an apology, you really make an apology. Oh Izzie, what if it doesn’t work out?”

“Then we’ll be friends and laugh about how silly we were, but it’ll be far away from here.”

“And we just have to keep this up until June?”

“Yes, and I’ll give you anything you need.”

“Like, love notes?”

Nasedo couldn’t help but smile, a little. “If you want them.” He reached out, taking Rosa’s hand in his. “I know it sucks to have to hide, and I’m  sorry I hurt you. Let me make it up to you. If you’re still mad at me by graduation, you can always go see this Valenti guy. Right?”

Rosa sighed and gave a playful roll of her eyes. “I suppose I can try to forgive you for acting like a bitch. Kyle is a homophobic ass... But how are you gonna make it up to me? Besides heartfelt letters of affection?”

“Do you trust me?”

“Ignoring your temporary lapse in human decency, yes, I trust you.”

“In that case...” Nasedo took a deep breath. Now or never. “I have a secret I want to share with you. Something I’ve never told anyone.”

“What kind of secret?”

“I think it’s better if I show you.”

A Place To Call Home, Ch 3.

Fandom: Rosewell, New Mexico.

Summary: A canon divergent take on Roswell, New Mexico, and the relationships between Isobel, Noah, and Rosa; later parts will shift the focus to Michael and Alex, as well as Michael and Noah. What is it like to share a body with another alien? Can broken trust be mended? Do the ends really justify the means?

Rating: M.

Tags: Canon divergence, minor character death, not really character death, body sharing, polyamory, hurt/comfort, addiction problems, sickfic, revenge, fix it, friends to enemies to lovers, lovers to enemies to lovers, Noah is complicated, cw: dubious age stuff for a little bit considering Nasedo/Noah is who-the-hell-knows how old.

Word Count: 2413

Rosa Ortecho was a hurricane.

She lived every moment as her last.  Her smile was pure light, and she was every single inch the sort of  person Nasedo could see Isobel falling head over heels for, especially  since Rosa had dumped her junkie boyfriend and gone clean in March. Of  course Nasedo had been doubtful at first. Rosa was human. Still. Rosa  loved astrology and music, dancing and poetry. She was an artist, but  the kind of artist with a fire in their soul. Rosa loved hard, lived  hard, hated hard. Everything about her was power, fast and intense and  exhilarating. It was impossible not to adore her.

Max was in love  with Rosa's sister, Liz, so of course he always went to the Crashdown  Cafe where Liz and Rosa both worked. And because Max went, Isobel went,  too. Rosa, with her wide, dark eyes and deep laugh, had grown fond of  Isobel. That much was clear. She'd sneak Isobel free fries. They'd share  a milkshake that had been made a little wrong. They would look up funny  videos on Isobel's phone, and play music on the cafe's jukebox while  Max and Liz were distracted elsewhere. It was good to see Isobel laugh,  after everything she had been through. She deserved to be happy, and it  made sense that Rosa's kind-hearted, wild spirit would bring Isobel that  happiness.

What Nasedo hadn't anticipated was how much he would  find himself feeling affection towards the human, too. Nasedo pretended  that the emotions belonged to Isobel, and Isobel alone. It was easier  that way. Besides, Isobel was under the terrible stress known as 'senior  year'; between Isobel trying to deal with her own internalized  homophobia and school, it was all Nasedo could do to keep her held  together. He couldn't take the time to look too closely at his own  feelings or bother Isobel with them. Isobel's health was all that  mattered.

At least, that was until a Friday night as the Crashdown.

Isobel never admitted that she went there to see Rosa. She didn't admit it that night, either. "I just need to relax," she complained. "There's only half the year left, and I've been studying for like, three days straight."

Nasedo  withdrew, as he always did when Isobel wanted time to herself. The  nerve-searing pain was easier to deal with, when he knew that he would  be escaping it again soon enough. Sooner than he expected, in fact. It  hadn't been very long when he was snapped back to Isobel, waking up in a  daze; the transition was usually slower, smoother. What had happened  that has caused Isobel to panic so much?

"Isobel? Are you okay?"

Rosa. Nasedo blinked, scrambling to recover. "Sorry, Rosa. I'm a total space case today."

"It's  okay." Rosa frowned. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear,  shifting her gaze away. "Uhm, if you don't want to go to the movies,  it's okay. I just thought that maybe... Maybe we'd have fun."

What  would Isobel want? He knew Isobel was falling for Rosa. He also was  certain Isobel would never go on her own. But, well, Nasedo wanted to  go. What harm would come from a movie? "Sure," he replied with as  charming of a smile as he could muster. Rosa's eyes fluttered. "I'd love  to go. Text me with the info?"

Rosa snatched Isobel's phone and  entered her contact information, the frown on her face replaced by a  sunny grin. "Cool. It's a date."

Their eyes met, and Rosa's grin  turned shy. Nasedo smiled back, his heart racing as he left the cafe and  headed home. It was a bad idea. He knew it was a bad idea. And yet, he  couldn't stop himself from feeling a flicker of joy. That was, until he  got home and Isobel returned, pacing in their room as she took the body  from him.

"Why did you do that?" she groaned. "I can't believe you."

"I thought you'd be pleased."

"I kind of am, yeah. I don't know. Things are complicated."

"She likes you and you like her. What's complicated about that?"

Isobel stopped, taking a deep breath and curling her arms around herself. "Besides Roswell being a fishbowl full of jerks? I... I like you, too."

"I would hope so. We share a body."

"Nasedo."

He  paused at the strain in her voice. The meaning of her words became  clear, and he felt almost queasy. No, no, he wasn't good enough for her.  He'd been in stasis for almost a hundred years total, by human years,  and was practically a damn rotting corpse on top of it. "Isobel..."

"I love you. You don't have to say it to me, but I love you."

The  word made him wince. She was so young, and full of so much hope and  promise. He couldn't do that to her. He would never be able to hold her,  to take care of her the way a real, living, whole person could. Like  Rosa could. "I will always protect you," he answered, his voice gentle. "I will always be here for you."

Isobel  said nothing. Thankfully, a text came through right then, the metallic  chime saving them. He looked at it through her eyes, intrigued. Pirate Radio, 9pm showing tomorrow. Sound good?

"It's your choice, Isobel."

Isobel fiddled with the phone. "You like her, too. Don't you?"

Nasedo  didn't answer. He didn't know how, especially after Isobel's  confession. He cared for them both, in their own unique ways. How to  explain that? But in the end, he didn't really have to; Isobel was  connected to his mind and thoughts, as he was connected to hers, and he  felt the moment she accepted the strange situation they were in. A tiny,  wry smile tugged at her lips as she opened the text.

Sounds fun. I'll meet you there.

A few minutes later, another chime. Great! Goodnight! <3

Nasedo  stayed quiet as Isobel went about her bedtime routine. He knew it by  heart. He knew her favorite products, the order she used them in, and  the exact number of uses left in each bottle before she would need new  ones. He knew how hard she was working to accept the little mole by her  nose, because it was part of her and she refused to take a knife to her  body to please silly beauty standards. He knew the story behind every  scar on her body, like the curved burn mark by her pinky finger she got  when she was seven, newly adopted and ignorant of what an oven was and  the fact that heat would hurt her. Her homework, in their bedroom, would  be stacked just so and color coded and triple checked for any errors.  The outfit she planned to wear the next day would be folded neatly over  the back of the desk chair. Their bedroom window would be open exactly  two inches, to let in the cool nighttime air.

Favorite things,  dislikes, habits. The way she'd smooth her hair when she was anxious.  Each and every aspect of Isobel's life, he had memorized. Each, he found  more and more endearing as the days passed. Was that... love? Was that  what love was, in the end? It wasn't the same excited, nervous feeling  Isobel experienced when she thought about seeing Rosa. It wasn't the  passionate fireworks that were in all of the human movies, books, and  songs. No. It was quieter, calmer. They shared a connection that they  would never share with anyone else, and that was... special. Precious.

Thankfully,  Isobel didn't comment on his thoughts. She tuned them out, giving him  privacy to mull in peace. Not that it did much good. They fell into a  restless sleep, and spent the next day on edge. Isobel was refined,  intelligent, elegant, proud, orderly. Nasedo was supposed to be the  dauntless one. Regardless, even he found himself starting to get nervous  as 9pm drew closer. He still had no idea what he was doing, but at  least he and Isobel were in the same boat.

"If our parents find out..." she muttered as she adjusted her hair in the mirror. If she kept messing about, they'd be late. "God. Are we really doing this?"

Nasedo  shook his head and gently took control of the body, only long enough to  steer her out of the bathroom and towards the door. "They won't find out. People go to movies all the time."

Luckily,  Max had went with their parents to some country club thing. Disgusting.  Nasedo checked their outfit one last time before heading out; basic  black blouse, dark wash jeans, black boots. Perfect. They strutted down  to the movie theater, flashing a bright smile as they saw Rosa waiting  by the door. Rosa blushed as Isobel held the door for her; they paid for  the tickets, but went double dutch on the snacks. Nasedo watched from  his corner of the mind, fascinated. In the four years they had shared  bodies, Nasedo had never seen Isobel so... open. Carefree.

It was  when the movie let out that Isobel's bravado faded. They were walking  to the park, the streetlamps lighting up the night with a soft glow. "I  want to show you one of my favorite places," Rosa said, giving them a  mysterious look as she headed into the park. "C'mon."

Curious,  Nasedo followed, shifting to the front as Isobel hesitated. Maybe Isobel  cared about curfews and closing times, but he didn't; most human laws  were based in fear, anyways, not in common sense. Rosa led them to the  center of the park, to a gazebo. It was pretty, with lattice work along  the sides and shining white against the darkness. Rosa twirled in the  center.

"This is your favorite spot?" Nasedo asked. "Why?"

Rosa  leaned against one of the posts and shrugged. "I have a lot of favorite  places. Spots where it's quiet late at night. Places I can go to think.  I can just exist here for a while, you know?"

"I don't know. I hate being alone."

"I'm guessing you've never had an overbearing dad."

Nasedo thought back to the Evanses, and to his own family. "Not especially. My family is more of the seen-not-heard type."

"Maybe we should trade."

"You  wouldn't be any happier. They treat you like a disgrace if you use the  wrong fork at dinner, or can't name three pro golfers."

"Wow, I'd  fit right in." Rosa wrinkled her nose. They both laughed; Rosa sighed  after, digging around in her purse and pulling out a few pens. "My dad  means well, but sometimes it makes it hard to move on when he keeps  treating me like I'm broken."

Nasedo watched as Rosa took the pens to the gazebo post, a blank canvas for her bleeding soul. "What are you doing?"

"Mayhem, mischief, delinquent behavior. It's how I get my highs now."

"Can I try?"

Rosa arched an eyebrow. "You? Isobel Evans?"

"Maybe I'm sick of being the person everyone thinks I am."

"Yeah."  Rosa frowned, offering her pens. Nasedo picked the black one, turning  his eyes to his side of the post as Rosa spoke. Her voice was  increasingly bitter, upset, as she colored in her drawing. A rose,  covered in sharp thorns. "It's, like, a Roswell rite of passage. One  day, everybody in this town gets together and they, like, decide who you  are, and that's who you get to be. Forever. End of story. Doesn't  matter if you change or improve or figure out that you're not even who  you thought you were to begin with."

Nasedo began to sketch the  symbol of his homeworld. Three circles, connected in the middle and  forming a triangle. "And who are you?"

"I don't think I know that yet. Do you understand who you are?"

"Some. Less than I'd desire."

Pausing, Rosa leaned to glance over Nasedo's shoulder. "What is that?"

"Just something I've drawn since I was a kid."

Goosebumps  formed over Nasedo's arms as Rosa's breath moved along his neck. Isobel  sensed the flicker of distress from him, and moved to take control  again. In the nick of time, too. A cop car drove by, slow, forcing them  to scamper out of the park before they were caught. It was, Isobel would  later admit, a thrill. Enough of a thrill that she finally seemed to  get over her shyness, happily chatting about the movie as they walked  towards Rosa's home. Everything was fine until they got one street away.

"You  don't have to come with me the rest of the way," Rosa said as she  stopped underneath some trees, standing safe in the shadows. "I mean.  Aren't you afraid that somebody's gonna see us?"

"If I'm being  honest? Yeah, but that has nothing to do with you. My parents would  freak out if they knew I went out on a date with a girl."

"Was this a date?"

Isobel  stared at Rosa. Rosa didn't seem angry, or grossed out or anything.  More... tense, inquisitive. And, maybe, a little hopeful. That tiny  tinge of hope what what bolstered Isobel's courage. "Do you want it to  have been?"

"I think so. It's just... I've never done this  before. With a girl, I mean. And it's the first time I've liked someone  since I've been clean. I'm not sure I know what I'm doing."

"Would it make you feel any better if I said this was my first time, too?"

Rosa smiled. "Yeah. Yeah, it helps."

They  walked the rest of the way to the cafe, each lost in thought; Nasedo  kept his senses open, watching for trouble. The street was empty. They  were safe. When they got to the door, Rosa turned and wrapped Isobel in a  hug. Isobel froze for a split second, then hugged her back. "Goodnight,  Rosa."

"Goodnight, Isobel."

Slipping into the cafe, Rosa  locked the door behind her and headed in. She paused, turning and  glancing at Isobel over her shoulder. She smiled again, and gave them a  wave; Isobel and Nasedo both felt their shared heart beat faster. Then  she was gone, vanishing into the diner and heading to the apartment  above it.

For a moment, Isobel didn't move, her hand pressing  against her chest as she sucked in a long, slow breath. Rosa's parting  smile was stuck in her head. Despite herself, she couldn't help but  smile, too. "We're in trouble, aren't we?"

"Yes," Nasedo replied, desire and dread mixing together in his chest. "We are."

A Place To Call Home, Ch 2.

Fandom: Rosewell, New Mexico.

Summary: A canon divergent take on Roswell, New Mexico, and the relationships between Isobel, Noah, and Rosa; later parts will shift the focus to Michael and Alex, as well as Michael and Noah. What is it like to share a body with another alien? Can broken trust be mended? Do the ends really justify the means?

Rating: M.

Tags: Canon divergence, minor character death, not really character death, body sharing, polyamory, hurt/comfort, addiction problems, sickfic, revenge, fix it, friends to enemies to lovers, lovers to enemies to lovers, Noah is complicated, cw: dubious age stuff for a little bit considering Nasedo/Noah is who-the-hell-knows how old.

Word Count: 2723

It was his favorite daydream.

He was walking free, bathed in sunlight with the heirs at his side. They were faced with those terrible people from so long ago. The heirs pinned them down as he surged forward, grabbing the leader of their army by the head; he'd dive into the Earthling's mind, tearing through it like the storms Nasedo sometimes heard rolling overhead. He would gift the Earthlings their worst nightmares, castrating their minds before searing through their brain with the killing power in his palms. Each and every single one who had ever harmed his people, each Earthling that even dared think to raise a finger against them, would burn. They would die howling for mercy that wouldn't come.

But then Nasedo realized the screaming in his daydream was real. A scream in his head, desperate and panicked and afraid. One of the heirs. Nasedo struggled against his prison, trying to get out. They needed him. They needed protection. Damn it all, what good was he if he couldn't do what he'd been born to do? Unless...

Nasedo closed his eyes and focused. It was a skill he hadn't practiced much as a young one, and oh how he regretted it. The ability to project into the mind and even flesh of another was a skill inherent in Protectors, but he hadn't needed it. He'd always been better at hand to hand combat. But his charges needed him. If they died, then he had failed, and all of the suffering would be for nothing. He would never escape, he would never get revenge.

Unacceptable.

Suddenly, he opened his eyes, and he could see. Everything was blurry, as if he was staring through a haze, but he could make out a young one. Blonde, fair of skin, a slim but tall frame. She was struggling against an Earthling, a bigger and older one who had hands around her mouth and wrist, dragging her through the dirt. Nasedo didn't need much power to know his intentions.

I'm here, Nasedo whispered into the young one's mind. I'm here. Let me in. Let me help you.

The young one's mind opened to him with unexpected ease, a single question among the spinning thoughts. Who are you?

I'll explain later. I can save you. I can protect you. Let me in.

In an instant, he was there, inside her body as well as her mind. Isobel. Her name was Isobel, she was fourteen years old, there on a camping trip with her brothers Maxwell and Michael. Nasedo settled into her form, jaw setting in determination. Sleep, Isobel. It'll be over soon. Isobel drifted into the back of her mind, asleep, safe. Nasedo focused on the attacker, trying hard to fight. He hadn't anticipated that the weakness of his own form would impact Isobel's well being. He hadn't anticipated just how difficult it would be. He snarled, lashing out and biting, but it did little good. Damn it, damn it.

The attacker was blown back out of nowhere. Nasedo fell to the ground, gaping up at two forms rushing to his-- her, their-- side. The tallest-- Max-- was saying something, but Nasedo couldn't understand it. He just closed the eyes, leaning against the comforting warmth of another living body and shivering from fear and adrenaline. Tired. So tired. But then the one holding them was moving, and Nasedo heard the sounds of struggle.

He could hear Max cry out. He smelled blood.

Nasedo looked to Max, sending a brief flash of an image. A hand on the chest, glowing. On fire. Burning out the life inside the Earthling that dared harm them. Max followed the action perfectly, howling as power surged through his young body and crushed the life beneath him. His first kill. Nasedo smiled inwardly as the other, Michael, effortlessly dug a grave with telekinesis. Oh, they were young, but already so powerful.

It was a few days before Isobel woke. Nasedo kept quiet, playing along as Max took them back to the Earthling family. He bit back his hatred as doctors poked them, prodded them, checked them for injury. He watched, learning the language of the Earthlings as the days went by. English, primarily. They called themselves humans. They were in the city of Roswell, the state of New Mexico, the country of the United States of America. Isobel Evans, the minutes-younger twin sister of Maxwell Evans, adopted by Ann Evans and her husband. Insufferable people, the parents. They didn't know about the young ones' powers. They had no clue how to raise such children. Still, Isobel's memories of them seemed... physically harmless, if not emotionally barren.

No one questioned the body's silence. Trauma, a doctor murmured, often took time to recover from. Max tried to be close, tried to get his sister to talk. Nasedo didn't know what to do. He withdrew, focusing on taking care of Isobel and basking in the Earth's sun, strange and wonderful music piped directly into his ears via something called an mp3 player. Soon enough, Isobel started to stir. Her voice, faint but growing closer, echoed through their shared mind.

What happened?

Nasedo wanted to reply, but couldn't. His hold on the body was slipping, and he was unable to speak; within seconds, he woke in his own body and his own mind. The pain came flooding back, and for the only time in his memory, he wept. To have a taste of freedom, even if it was through another, was almost worse than none at all. To think he'd never again feel the warmth of the desert upon his face... But then it happened again, and kept happening.

The second time he was drawn out, it was without warning. Nasedo woke up in Isobel's bed. It was nighttime, and the body was sweating. Shaking. Heart pounding. A... nightmare? He got up, wandering to the bathroom and gently dabbing Isobel's face with a cool, damp towel. The anxiety wasn't his, though he felt it, and that distance was enough to help calm the body back down. He brought her back to bed just as she came back into her mind; once again, he returned to his prison.

It happened rarely at first, in quick little moments when Isobel was afraid or overwhelmed. Once every few months, at the most. Nasedo wondered if Isobel even realized what was happening. Not that it mattered. It was only five, ten minutes that Nasedo used to glimpse the outside world while he cared for Isobel and soothed her mind. Max didn't understand it, and Nasedo never felt obligated to explain. Michael... Michael was different. He would watch silently, sitting nearby without speaking or attempting to touch Isobel's body. Sometimes, he would offer a cold drink, help Nasedo find a quiet place if they were at school when it happened, or scroll through Isobel's mp3 player to find the songs he knew would be calming. Michael didn't ask questions, so perhaps it was for that reason that Nasedo liked him more.

With time, the shifts in control became more frequent. Lasted longer. What had once been five or ten minutes a few times a year became a weekly habit of an hour or more. Maybe it was because of the stress of High School, maybe it was because Isobel chose the most catty and upsetting human friends possible, maybe it was because their connection deepened as Isobel's powers grew stronger. Nasedo didn't know. What he did know was that nearly two years after the first time, he was drawn to Isobel when he felt her crying. Upset. He glanced around as he came to, wondering what had happened.

They were in Isobel's room, at her desk. A journal lay open in front of them. Nasedo tilted his head, glancing at the writing.

I love her. She's older than me, and my parents whisper about how she's trouble. They don't know how I feel. I'm ashamed. I know Michael is bi and it's no big deal for him, but it's different for me. I have a lot of friends. I'm supposed to be perfect. Everyone expects me to be the homecoming queen with a jock boyfriend, but that's not what I want. I want Rosa.

Oh. Oh, dear. Nisedo shut the journal and slipped it into Isobel's secret hiding place. He mulled that information over as he wandered to the kitchen, drumming his fingers on the fridge door as he hunted for something to eat. Rosa. Rosa... Ortecho. He remembered her, faintly. She had been hanging out with Michael, once, when Isobel had an attack. She'd stood guard with Michael over them. She seemed sweet, warm, with a quick laugh. As far as humans went, well, she was acceptable. But--

"What's up?"

Max's voice made Nasedo jerk their head up. "Just looking for a snack," he said, his voice perfectly imitating Isobel's inflections. He'd been practicing. "Why?"

"We just ate." Max frowned. "I thought I heard you crying."

"Hormones, I guess."

"Didn't need to know that."

Nasedo rolled his eyes as Max made a face and walked away. Men. Such babies. He grabbed a fork and what looked to be a leftover box of vegetable lo mein, and headed back to Isobel's room. It had been two years, and he hadn't spoken to Isobel himself since that fateful night, but he contemplated changing that now. He wasn't sure he could speak to her without losing control, but... Well, there were others ways, weren't there? He nibbled at the food as he fished out Isobel's journal again, picking up a pen and thinking. If he did this, he wouldn't be able to take it back.

But nothing ventured, nothing gained. Right?

Isobel, when you read this, I want you to know that you're not imagining things. I don't know if you remember me from that night, at the camping trip...

It was a short note, just a page. If it worked, if she accepted him, he could always write more later. He frowned, glancing at the journal entry Isobel had written.

... And just so you know, Isobel, you never have to be ashamed of who you are or who you love. - Nasedo

Nasedo felt the world spin as Isobel began to come back to her body. Just in time. He sighed, closing his eyes and hoping for the best as he relinquished control. It wasn't long before he was called back, days at most. When he opened his eyes, he was at school and in the cafeteria. Shit. He forced a smile at her friends, excusing himself from the table and rushing outside to the bleachers. Her next class was gym, and there was no way he was going to be able to handle it. Being in Isobel's body sapped her strength, and he wouldn't risk hurting her. Instead, he rummaged around her backpack looking for astronomy homework. That, that he could do.

His hands landed on a notebook, and he noticed something that made him freeze. His name was written on the front, in tiny letters. Blinking, he opened it.

I remember you.

His heart hammered in his chest.

I thought I was crazy. I never told anyone what happened. Not even Max or Michael. How does this work? Who are you? Why did you save me?

Nasedo grabbed a pen, hope fluttering to life inside his being.

I don't know how it works, exactly. Some of our kind can project themselves into the bodies of others. Especially Protectors, like me. I take control when you need me, and leave when the danger passes. Your mother ordered me to protect the three of you, just after the crash. I protected your family before, on our homeworld. I saved you because I knew you, once.

The next time Nasedo came back, a week later, there was a reply waiting for him.

So that's why I can't remember things? That makes sense, now. You knew our mother? What happened to her? What was she like? What was our home like?

Smiling, Nasedo scribbled in his reply. He told Isobel as much as he remembered. Tales of a beautiful, blonde woman with warm heart and a sharp mind, opinionated yet compassionate. Tales of a plant similar to Earth, laid to waste by greed and power-hungry zealots. Her mother, he noted, died in the crash. A lie, but a soft one. He didn't want to tell her that her mother likely died in pain, gunned down by hateful military men.

They wrote back and forth for ages, and finally, Nasedo felt he had a chance at life. A life in bits and pieces, in stolen moments, but a life all the same. Maybe he could be content, sharing the body with Isobel. She was a beautiful soul like her mother, though less confident and more fearful. Well, that would change with age and experience. Especially with his hand to help guide her. She seemed to welcome his presence, and the connection between them only grew stronger as their third year together began. Isobel made sure to take detailed notes of her classes, homework, things that had happened between her and others. Nasedo, in turn, took notes of things that had happened while he was in control.

Things seemed to be heading in a bright direction. Isobel blossomed into the popular queen bee that she was meant to be, and Nasedo took the wheel when things got to be too much for her. They shared their hopes, their dreams, their deepest secrets; it kept him distracted, busy... happy. Isobel was almost eighteen when, late one night, their minds managed to brush together at the same time. They were conscious at the same time, and they both laughed at the giddiness of the moment.

"We're strong together," Isobel mused. "If we could exist this way, always..."

Nasedo chuckled. "You wouldn't want me around all the time, I'm sure."

"Why not?" "Rosa?"

Isobel pursed her lips. "You said that we can't trust humans. Any humans."

"Well, maybe I was wrong."

It stunned Nasedo to admit it, especially out loud. It had been so long since he'd thought of revenge, that he'd almost forgotten it. Almost. Still, it felt right. He saw the way Isobel looked at Rosa, and he knew what was in her heart. He couldn't deny that connection any more than he could deny their own.

"She's different, isn't she?" "Maybe. Too bad she's high half the time." "And you're not?"

Scoffing, Isobel's mind nestled in and eased into sleep. After that night, it was easier to operate together. Not simple, not flawless, but easier. Blending their lives together gave Nasedo a new sense of freedom, and he gave to Isobel a self assurance that she'd rarely experienced before. Enough self assurance that she finally began to flirt with Rosa on her own, once Isobel was 18 and Rosa had graduated. Not enough self assurance, Nasedo noticed, to tell her brothers their secret.

"I enjoy having you to myself," Isobel said when Nasedo pointed it out. "Besides. They'll think I'm nuts."

Having you to myself. The concept was... strange. He'd never belonged to anyone. Not on their homeworld, and certainly not since. He'd led a secluded life, focusing on his studies and then on his duties; deep friendships had only been a distraction, in his eyes. Now, Nasedo pondered the idea. Friendship. Maybe even love. How would such things even work? Would he be content to exist alongside Isobel, with her friends being his friends? With her love being his love? It was an entire world he'd never considered.

"I can't tell what you're thinking," she added softly.

"What if I can never escape? What if I never have my own body again?"

Isobel shrugged. "What I have is yours." "You won't be able to tell the ones you love about your secrets." "You said yourself, Rosa is different. Maybe... I don't know, maybe there are others out there who are different, too. Maybe the good people outnumber the bad." "I doubt it."

She couldn't touch him, of course, but he felt affection from her directed at him, and it felt almost like an embrace. "At least we'll have each other."

On that, he agreed.

Regardless of what happened, Nasedo would protect Isobel. No matter the cost.

It turns out that it’s not the typical “boss battle” music you need to fear.

It’s when there’s no sound at all that you are well and truly screwed.

You were employed at Amazon, and just shook hands with Jeff Bezos.

You’ve lived your entire life accompanied to background music that only you can hear. On the first day of your new job, while shaking hands with one of your coworkers, the music goes silent, and does not return.

A Place To Call Home, Ch 1.

Fandom: Rosewell, New Mexico.

Summary: A canon divergent take on Roswell, New Mexico, and the relationships between Isobel, Noah, and Rosa; later parts will shift the focus to Michael and Alex, as well as Michael and Noah. What is it like to share a body with another alien? Can broken trust be mended? Do the ends really justify the means?

Rating: M.

Tags: Canon divergence, minor character death, not really character death, body sharing, polyamory, hurt/comfort, addiction problems, sickfic, revenge, fix it, friends to enemies to lovers, lovers to enemies to lovers, Noah is complicated, cw: dubious age stuff for a little bit considering Nasedo/Noah is who-the-hell-knows how old.

Word Count: 1293

It was supposed to be a simple journey.

The ship was small, by  the standards of their world; discretion had ensured the escape of the  Royal Family and their court. Still, it had been strong, well-supplied.  It would take time to find a new world, a safe one, but it was worth it  for the chance to start over. They already had a few worlds selected to  explore. Soon enough, they would have a new life somewhere else.  Somewhere free from the toxic, murderous regime that had taken over  their homeland.

But then a sensor went off in the lower decks.  Nasedo stirred, feeling the psychic call of his masters; something was  wrong. He grabbed a weapon and headed down, following an unfamiliar  scent to the control deck. Someone was at the wheel, changing the  coordinates. He wouldn't remember, later, who it was that he fought  against that fateful day. All he remembered was a flash of metal, fists  connecting to flesh as he tried to defend the ship. He was a Protector,  and he was willing to die to defend his people.

Nasedo didn't die.

He  managed to get control back of the ship, but only in time to save it  from completely disintegrating in the atmosphere of Earth. The ship  smashed into the ground, exploding outward in a spray of fire and  iridescent shards. Nasedo tried to stand, but pain ripped through his  body. He cursed under his breath, but at least he had breath; the  atmosphere was survivable. Rich, heady, too much, but... But he didn't  have time to adjust to his surroundings. There was a shout from his  queen. He barely heard the words, but he understood the order: protect  the children. Nasedo scanned the wreckage, finding the three pods flung  towards some nearby mountains. Safe. Intact.

There was a cave in  the mountains. Nasedo sensed it, hollow and cool and sheltered. Perfect.  It was difficult, pushing the pods into the tunnel and tucking them  away from immediate sight. His muscles and ribs burned, and he felt  blood leaking from a gash along his head, but his king and queen were  relying on him to keep the heirs safe. Once they were safe, Nasedo  headed back out to try and find other survivors.

A few dead  bodies lay among the wreckage, but it could have been worse. It seemed  like most of the survivors had exited their pods already, huddling  around their leaders. The queen was speaking to their people; Nasedo  turned away, grabbing what pods he could find and moving them towards  the other caves nearby in case they needed to shield themselves. He had  heard of Earth as a child, in his classes, but the planet was largely a  mystery. He wished he'd paid closer attention. Now, most of the teachers  were dead. They were some of the first to have been slaughtered by the  invading regime.

Nasedo was walking back from the mines when he  saw them. Metal vehicles rolling along the ground, rumbling and belching  an acrid smoke, two bright lights glaring from the front like the  malevolent eyes of some desert animal. Something inside twisted in  unease. He walked faster, as fast as he could manage, his heart drumming  even quicker as the vehicles stopped and beings emerged. Pale in the  moonlight, bipedal, two arms. Forward facing eyes. Predators.

Run.

Nasedo froze, hearing the voice of his queen in his head once more.

RUN.

He  barely turned when he heard it. Pop, pop. Small explosions, rapid,  followed by the sound of screaming. Nasedo clenched his teeth, diving  behind pile of stone that felt all too small as he listened to his  people die. His nails dug into his palms as he fought the urge to get  up, to go back, to fight. He was supposed to be a warrior, he was  supposed to be out there between his king and queen, not...

...  The heirs. Nasedo crawled along the ground, slowly making his way to  where he'd hidden the pods. Protect them. He had to protect them. Keep  them safe. It was too late for the others, he knew. Just as the queen  must have known. He felt them die, one by one, feel their agony in his  head and chest. But if he would die, too, he would die keeping those  bloodthirsty monsters away from the children. He dragged himself in  front of the tunnel entrance, weapon in hand as he waited.

No one  ever came. He lay there, listening to the gurgling, fading, wet cries  of his people. He kept silent. He kept still. It was hours later, but  the Earthlings left. Nasedo stayed put for another hour. Two. Three. No  one came back. It was then that he finally stood, reaching out with his  mind to try and search for someone. Anyone. Nothing. Pieces of the ship  were gone. The rest of the pods were gone. The only thing left was  blood, body fluids, and some terrible chemical smell. He open and closed  his hands, a choking noise building in his throat. All that escaped was  a whimper.

What now, what now? What to do? The pods weren't  open. He couldn't pull the children out until they were ready. There was  no way to know when that would be. There was no one to give him orders.  No one to give him direction. He felt frozen in place, exhausted and  miserable and covered in his own blood. There was only one possible  action left: survive. That was all he had left. Survive, and when the  time came, protect the heirs.

Nasedo found himself at the other  cave where he'd managed to hide the only other pod he'd salvaged. It was  broken. Barely functional. Still, 'barely' was better than 'not at  all'. With a little luck, it would keep him alive until the children  were ready to come out. And then, Nasedo thought with grim satisfaction,  they would find a way to survive, together. And then, perhaps, they  would find a way to thrive. If they could send out a distress call to  other ships out there...

Nasedo slipped into the pod, shivering as the mist inside enveloped him.

He  didn't heal. He didn't sleep. He curled there, awake and aware of every  second that ticked by, as the days turned into months and the months  turned into years. He recited all the commandments of his home. He  repeated the oath he'd sworn when he became a Protector. He went over  every scientific fact, every constellation and star he'd memorized,  every song his mother had taught him as a child, all the names of every  weapon and fighting form he'd learned from his teachers. When that grew  stale, his mind began to turn to blood.

Thoughts of vengeance  played through his head, little trickles at first that kept his mind  busy. He pushed them away at first. It wasn't honorable. But as the  years became decades, the little thoughts came more and more, turning  from a small stream into a roaring, cold flood of hatred and venom. It  pumped through his veins, keeping his heart beating. They would pay for  what they'd done, and he had all sorts of delicious plans for how he  would make them suffer.

Fifty years passed before he felt it. A  flicker, small and afraid and desperately crying out. Nasedo tried to  break free of the pod, clawing at it until his nails bent and his skin  bled, but he was trapped. His body was atrophied. Weak. All he could do  was press his withered face to the side of the pod and wait, praying  with everything he had left in him that someday, they would return for  him.

Seven years after that, he heard a scream.

Updates!

Hello lovelies!

A quick update on current WIPs, :D

1. I’m currently finishing up a canon divergent work of CW’s The Flash. Featuring queer and polyamorous Barry Allen, it’s a rewrite of the first season with a dubiously happier ending, and involves Barrison/Eobarry, Coldflash, and Westallen. Word count will be about 50k, tentatively.

2. Starting Sunday, I will begin posting a canon divergent work of Roswell, New Mexico. It will explore the past relationships between Isobel, Noah, and Rosa, and what it’s like to be two people sharing a body. Another season one rewrite. Not sure how long it will be yet, but I’m excited to bring it to you all.

The Roswell, NM fic will go up on Patreon first. Patrons will receive updates a week before tumblr, and two weeks before AO3. Access is quite inexpensive, and every dollar goes towards helping me pay off medical debt and move out of an abusive living situation.

Thank you for reading! Have a wonderful day/night, everyone.

Stay proud!

#IFDrabble Prompt: Fanworks

Fandom: The Flash.

Summary: Iris and Barry both make a startling discovery.

Rating: M.

Tags: IFDrabble, International Fanworks Day, Fluff, Sexual Humor, Implied Relationships, Kink Mention, Polyamorous Barry Allen, Queer Barry Allen, Characters Reading Fanfiction.

Word Count: 703

Barry was having a quiet night at home. Joe was out on duty. Iris was upstairs, working. There was finally a lull in criminal activity, so thankfully, Wells and the crew gave Barry the night off. Cheeseburgers, root beer, binge watching Dietland-- a perfect evening, by all accounts. He could relax without having anything weird to worry about. At least, that was until Iris plunked her laptop in front of him.

"Have you seen these?" she demanded, jabbing her finger at the screen. "Any of these?" Puzzled, Barry picked up the laptop and skimmed the screen. At first, he didn't know what the problem was, but then his brain processed a bit of text-- his smouldering eyes-- and Barry realized he was looking at a writing website. Specifically, fanfiction. Pages and pages of fanfiction. And somewhere, in the title or tags or description of every single one, were the words 'the Flash'. The variety was a sight to behold. Flash x Reader. Flash x OC. Men, women, and every other gender conceivable. Top Flash! Bottom Flash! Female Flash! Flash x Oliver Queen? Done. Flash x Supergirl? There. Some of the favorite pairings even had cute names, like Coldflash or Flashfrost. There were fluffy fics. There were angsty fics. There were fics that, Barry felt certain of, he'd need to go to confession after reading. Every sweet, silly, or kinky thing imaginable, and it all involved him somewhere in the mix. After taking in as much of it as he could without his brain erupting, Barry leaned back and ran his hands through his hair. “Woah, that’s... there’s a lot.” “Did you know about this?!” “I had no idea! It’s not like I’ve had a lot of time lately to google myself." Barry peered back at the screen. "What are they about, anyways?” Iris crossed her arms over her chest and huffed. “It’s mostly fangirls writing about you rescuing them. Except, you know, there's some great ones about you and Captain Cold experimenting with icicles.” “Like, me and Len using them for...?" "Yep." "Well that's impractical." “And then they have you and Weather Wizard. And you and Vibe. And you and—“ “Is there anyone they’re not shipping me with?” Pausing her rant, Iris blinked and seemed to actually be thinking. “Well. The Mist doesn’t seem popular.” “That’s rude," Barry muttered. "He’s plenty handsome. And plays a mean game of poker.” "Can you be serious for one second?" When Barry gazed at her with a blank expression, Iris sunk her head into her hands. It must have been, at that point, that she recalled the fact that speedsters had an inexplicable tendency towards polyamory. "Oh god, you are being serious.” “I admire their creativity." "Their creativity?!" Barry stopped to admire a particularly well done piece of digital art involving him and the Reverse Flash. "Creativity. And perceptiveness, in a few cases.” “It’s not funny! People are writing graphic, prolific smut in droves!" Iris threw her hands up into the air. "I had to see that with my eyes, Barry! My own two eyes!” "What do you want me to do, call the porn police? 911! Someone wrote about me banging Mick Rory in a fursuit, send in SWAT!” “You know, I honestly can’t tell if that is a joke or not.” “Irrelevant." Closing the laptop, Barry stood and scooped Iris up into a hug. Grumbling under her breath, she hugged back; he pulled away after a moment, giving her a cheerful smile and trying to actually be serious. "Come on, Iris. People will write whatever they want. It’s not like it's hurting me, or anyone else. We just don't look, and pretend it doesn't exist.” Iris searched his face, then sighed. “Fine. You’re right. You're also getting me some brain bleach, because I need it.” "Of course." Barry opened his mouth to suggest getting dinner, when a small detail he'd read among the countless stories popped into his head. "Wait. Wasn’t Westbound90 your old FFNet username?" Snatching her laptop, Iris bolted towards the stairs, yelling over her shoulder as she fled as fast as she was able. "I'll order pizza." The door to her room slammed shut. Barry stared after her, left alone to wonder.

While We’re Being Honest (2.0)

Fandom: The Society.

Summary: There hadn’t been a single Thanksgiving in Grizz’s memory that had ever gone well. Not until they came to their new world. Not until Sam, even with secret babies involved. (Set in the same universe as AGATO.)

Rating: T+.

Tags: Canon divergence, Grizz is autistic and has trouble with flirting, implied sexual content, resolved romantic tension, teen pregnancy, fix it of Sam telling Grizz about the baby, first kiss.

Word Count: 2462

Of all the holidays, Thanksgiving was the worst.

Even before Grizz had discovered that it was a celebration of genocide, thoroughly ruining whatever appeal was left, Thanksgiving had never been much more than a day of torture by overstimulation. Near-strangers would pile into his home, yank him into hugs that made his skin crawl, squish his cheeks and force kisses from him, and then make him sit stone-still in a chair with clasped hands and gritted teeth as people droned on for hours about nothing. Any time he jiggled his leg or started to spin anything round he could get his hands on, his mother would kick him under the table and give him a stern look. If he started talking about dance, or painting, his father would start talking about football. In time, Grizz learned to simply stay silent.

It got worse as he got older, with family all constantly asking when he was going to get a girlfriend, or why he didn't smile more. His parents would always answer first, speaking loudly about how Grizz was a serious boy focused on his studies; Grizz would just stuff potatoes in his face and nod. It wouldn't do any good to talk about his favorite video games, or that he was memorizing Shakespeare's comedies, or how much he loved to volunteer at the animal shelter and play with the puppies there. He had to be a serious boy, with serious studies, because no one cared about anything else.

And maybe that was why Grizz sympathized with Campbell, and offered to help him. Grizz couldn't always understand Campbell's apathy, and he could admit the anger he saw moving through Campbell's veins scared the hell out of him, but he knew it scared Campbell, too. Being an abnormality was difficult. It wore a person down. Grizz knew better than most what it was like, and if they could help each other... well, that wasn't a bad thing, was it?

It seemed to work out for Grizz, in the end.

Although Grizz was highly suspicious that the whole British Sign Language thing had been a set-up, it still made Sam smile when Grizz tried it out, which led to daily meet-ups while Sam taught Grizz ASL instead. For the first time in a very, very long time, Grizz had woken up each morning feeling something pretty close to happiness. And now, here on Thanksgiving, Sam was in Grizz's room, admiring the trophies and awards like they actually mattered.

They'd ditched the community dinner and gone back to Grizz's house instead. For privacy, Sam had said. Why did they need privacy? Grizz didn't know, but he had never been happier to skip Thanksgiving.

Well, not exactly true. He would be even happier later, after he found out people got poisoned, but-- at that very moment-- one of the happiest moments of his life. When Sam had walked through the high school doors as a Freshman, Grizz had immediately felt flutters in his chest. Of course, Grizz had been pretending to be straight at the time; there was no way he could come out yet, and Sam deserved to be with someone who was as open and proud as Sam was. That times was over. It didn't matter anymore. Maybe Grizz finally stood a chance, if he could manage to do more than awkwardly flirt. He'd been trying since prom, and either he was just terrible at it, or Sam was oblivious.

Both, maybe.

Either way, Sam had stopped exploring and was watching Grizz, a little smile tugging at his lips. "What are you thinking about?"

Crap. Grizz scrambled for something. Anything. His eyes darted to his collection of Marvel movies. "Uh, you know. Just wondering what Tony Stark would do in a situation like this."

"Like what?"

"Trapped in some weird parallel world with no visible escape."

"I think the movies already covered what he'd done." Sam's smile turned a little mischievous, and suddenly Grizz could see the brotherly resemblance between him and Campbell. Oh boy. "I wonder how he'd handle being alone with the cutest football player in the school."

Grizz couldn't help but laugh. "Smooth moves there, Eliot."

"Thank you. Trading my hearing for charm was a smart choice."

Blushing, Grizz quickly pivoted away from the banter and directed Sam's attention to the movie collection. No, Sam wasn't oblivious. He knew. How long had he known? Since prom, surely. That was when he seemed to start warming up to Grizz, and oh god, Grizz had been making a total numbskull out of himself the whole time since. But thankfully, Sam was happy to talk fandom stuff while Grizz recovered. They shared their favorite shows, books, games, and Sam was the first person face-to-face who actually grasped the concept of queer representation. Talking to Sam was easy, or at least, easier than talking to anyone had ever been. He actually seemed interested in what Grizz had to say, and didn't act bored when Grizz rambled about anything and everything.

Eventually, Sam sat down on Grizz's bed, patting the space next to him. "It's too bad we didn't hang out more back home," he said as Grizz settled close by. "I thought all you were interested in was sports."

Grizz shrugged. "I mean, it was all that was safe to talk about, for me. Old Ham wasn't really a hub of progressive values."

"No, it wasn't. But you were about to graduate with a scholarship, right?"

"That was the plan. How did you know?"

"Oh." Sam's cheeks flushed. "Well, what guy doesn't have a crush on a jock in high school?"

"Wish I would have known that sooner."

"Oh? I didn't think you were interested."

The flash of surprise on Sam's face made Grizz falter. Looking down at his hands for a moment, Grizz tried to think of something to say that didn't sound pathetic. "I thought if I hung out with you, Clark and the others would make fun of me," he finally replied. "But you always seemed kind, and I guess I wish I'd had more kind people in my life. I wish I could have been kinder to people."

Sam leaned closer. Grizz hadn't said anything about Dewey, but maybe Sam understood. "What's happened, happened. I don't think you're unkind."

"Yeah?" Grizz shook his head, pushing the image of that day in the woods out of his head. As much as he ever could, anyways. "Why's that?"

"You treat me like a person. Most guys I've talked to bail once they find out I'm deaf."

"Seriously? That sounds lonely."

"It has been. I always thought I'd just, you know, die alone. Especially after coming here."

"Me too, kind of. My family hammered it into my head that I should be straight. I figured I'd escape when I went to college, but being here with a bunch of homophobes? Yikes."

"Your parents weren't supportive?" Sam wondered. "They always seemed nice."

Grizz snorted. "Yeah, well. Goes to show you. What about yours?"

"Mm. I don't know how my parents would have reacted if I'd brought a boy home. I grew up thinking they were just..." Sam trailed off, a far away look in his eyes for a moment. He shrugged. "I don't have bad memories of them, but a lot changed after I lost my hearing, I guess. The way Campbell talks about it, maybe it wouldn't have been okay."

Grizz hesitated, then reached out and lightly rested his hand on Sam's hand. "I've heard a little about it from Campbell. He said they treated you pretty differently, so maybe they would have been okay about it."

"Maybe. I don't know. I don't remember much about how they were, before." Sam frowned. "I was only three, maybe four, when it happened. I had meningitis. Do you know what that is?"

"It's an infection in the membrane of the brain, right?"

"Mhm. And maybe it's because of being sick, my memory problems. I barely remember being in the hospital. What my parents were like then... I don't know. All I really remember is bits and pieces of noise. My mother's voice. My dad's laugh. Sometimes, I can hear in my dreams. But it's always old things, from before. Being deaf is okay by me, but I sometimes wish I could hear new sounds."

"Yeah? Like what?"

"Music. My favorite shows. I remember what my voice was like when I was a kid, but I'm guessing it's a little deeper now." They both chuckled at that. Sam fell silent, searching Grizz's face. "I wish I could hear your voice."

Grizz felt his heart flutter. "Hey, Sam?" Grizz asked, swallowing hard and forcing himself not to fidget his leg. Sam looked at Grizz's lips a lot, of course, but this time his eyes lingered there. He didn't understand a lot of social cues, but Grizz felt like he understood that one. "Can I ask you... How do you sign 'kiss me'?"

Their gazes met. Grizz couldn't read Sam's expression, but Grizz was preparing to apologize when Sam leaned in; it took a second for Grizz to register that he was being kissed, but then holy shit Sam was kissing him, and Grizz kissed back. Grizz had kissed girls before, but it had never felt right. Not like this. It had never made him feel intoxicated, like he wanted to just melt into the other person. Before, he'd always just wanted to get it over with, but with Sam, he wanted it to last forever.

Except Sam was pulling away, an odd expression on his face. Sadness? Guilt? Shit. Grizz cursed himself for moving too fast. He'd done something wrong. But Sam had seemed so open to it, so what was going on?

"I have something I need to tell you," Sam confessed. "I really like you. You're amazing, and I want to just keep kissing you, but I want to be honest with you."

Grizz blinked, unsure of what to say. Sam didn't seem the type to have skeletons in his closet, but, well, didn't everyone have some sort of secret? "You can tell me anything. I promise, I'll keep it to myself."

"That's the thing. This is something that's going to get out eventually. I want you to hear it from me, first."

"Sam, whatever it is, I can handle it. I promise."

At first, Sam just gazed down at their hands. Grizz gave them a little squeeze of reassurance. Taking a deep breath, Sam finally spoke, his voice shaking. "Before we came here, about nine months ago, Becca and I slept together one time. We were lonely and I guess I wanted to try being normal. We used protection, but something must have gone wrong, and..." His voice cracked. "Becca's pregnant. I'm the father."

Several things went through Grizz's mind all at once. The first thought was a wordless sort of shock, followed by incredulity-- Grizz had heard rumors that Becca was pregnant, but Sam? The father? Hurt followed quickly on it's heels. How come Sam hadn't said anything sooner? But then Grizz stopped, took a breath, and closed his eyes while he processed. Sam was human. People didn't always fit neatly into little boxes, and besides, it's not like Sam had known then how Grizz felt. Grizz certainly hadn't acted on it. There was no one to blame, here. Sam hadn't done anything bad. And fuck, Sam was so young. So was Becca. They were probably terrified.

"Does Becca know you're gay?" Grizz blurted out before he could think. "Does she know how you feel about me?"

Sam nodded, his eyes glassy. Oh, no. He was going to cry. "I'm sorry," he whimpered. "I don't want you to be angry with me."

"Hey, I'm not. I'm not angry with you."

And that was when Sam lost it. Grizz hated hugs under the best of circumstances, but Sam was important, and he was scared. If ever there was a good time for a hug... Grizz tugged Sam to him, curling his arms around Sam and holding him. He didn't bother saying anything. It's not like Sam could hear him, or read his lips since Sam was burrowed against Grizz's chest, and there wasn't much else to say. Grizz wasn't sure how he felt about the baby news, but he knew how he felt about Sam. That was what mattered.

Grizz rubbed Sam's back until Sam was just quietly sniffling. Sam pulled back enough to read Grizz's lips, rubbing his eyes and letting out a tiny hiccup. "I understand if you want me to leave."

"Are we still in honesty mode?"

"Yes."

"I kind of want you to stay forever," Grizz said as he brushed a tear from Sam's cheek. "While we're being honest, I mean."

Sam frowned. "But the baby..."

"Needs a family, right? A community?"

"Grizz."

"I'm just saying. Look, I'm not sure what to think about it all. It's serious stuff. Raising a kid with someone is a lot of emotional work-- I watched my cousin go through it when she was pretty young. But I like you. I like you being here with me. And if that means supporting you through this, we'll work it out."

Sam stared at Grizz, then took his hands back and signed something.

"What does that mean?" Grizz asked.

"It means 'kiss me'."

Cupping Sam's face, Grizz kissed him again. It started off soft, sweet, but then Sam began to kiss harder; Grizz slid his hands under Sam's clothes as they ended up in bed, under the covers, helping Sam wiggle out of them and tossing them to the floor. Neither of them had been with another guy before, from what Sam had said earlier, but that didn't matter. By the end of the night, they were curled up together, a satisfied smile on Sam's face as he slept.

Grizz couldn't sleep. Not yet. He watched Sam instead, feeling awe at the fact that Sam wasn't just his first, but that with Sam, he hadn't felt overwhelmed or anxious for the first time in a long, long time. There was something special about Sam. Grizz could feel it in his heart, as sure as he'd ever felt anything else before. The idea that Sam was about to be a father was still a surprise, and he had so many questions about what it meant or how things would work. Still. Grizz, if he let himself be honest with himself, already knew without a doubt, if this one night led to something else-- if Sam wanted it to be more-- Grizz would give him whatever he wanted.

Closing his eyes, Grizz snuggled against Sam, and smiled as Sam snuggled back.

Maybe they wouldn't have to be alone, after all.

Head Above Water

Fandom: The Flash.

Summary: I just wanted to write something soft for these two nerds. Here's a little canon divergence, where things aren't so combative between them, their identities aren't exactly secret, and Barry's being that Paragon we adore.

Rating: M.

Tags: Canon divergence, sickness, cancer, hurt/comfort, implied relationship, mild implied sexual content, enemies to lovers.

Word Count: 1379

The phone rang at 4am.

“Barry?” Ramsey’s voice on the other end of the line was weak. Strained. “Please...”

He didn’t need to finish the thought. Barry was already up and out of bed, and he was at Ramsey’s door in less than five minutes. Ramsey never asked how Barry got there so quickly; they never talked about any of it, because in the end, Barry knew that they both knew the truth. Neither were ready to broach that topic. Not yet. It didn’t matter. Not on  nights like this.

Ramsey was curled up on the floor in the hallway, just off the bedroom. At least this time, he’d had his phone with him. Barry knelt on the floor next to him, gently brushing his hair from his face. He was still breathing fast, and his muscles were twitching every so often, but he looked awake. “Ramsey? Can you hear  me?”

“Mm. You came.”

“Of course I did. Does anything hurt?”

Ramsey didn’t answer at first, his eyes not quite focusing on Barry when he gazed up. “Hit my head on the floor,” he finally answered. “Not hard. Felt it coming on, laid down too fast.”

Barry frowned. That  wasn’t good, but for now, it wasn’t an emergency. “Alright. Are you  ready to try getting up, at least? See how you feel?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m... I’m ready.”

Carefully, Barry slid his arm around Ramsey’s waist and helped him to his feet. It was slow going, but that’s how things were, now. It had been two months since Ramsey had come to Barry seeking help for a cure; it had been two months since Caitlin had run various trials to try and create one.  All the while, Ramsey's condition declined. It had started out as bruising, and then had turned into rashes, fatigue, fevers, and in the last month, seizures. Ramsey had been out running amok on his own, trying to find a cure himself behind Barry’s back and in... well, unsavory ways, but Barry didn’t hate him for it. He was dying, and he was scared. 

For whatever reason, Ramsey had turned to Barry as things got worse. A strange choice, considering Ramsey knew Barry was the Flash and Barry knew Ramsey was Bloodwork, but Caitlin had pointed out that Barry had a  tendency to adopt most of his villains. Ramsey was no different. He needed help, and Barry never turned people away— not even enemies. 

“Enemies” was a strong term now, Barry felt. Especially as he was helping Ramsey into the bathroom, peeling the clothes from his shivering body while the bathtub filled with perfectly warm water. Barry left Ramsey sitting on the closed toilet, picking out loose, comfy, and fresh clothing from the closet, and brought it back to the bathroom. He stayed while Ramsey dipped into the bath, soaking his sore muscles in the jasmine scented water. Once he was done, Barry helped Ramsey back out, steadying him while he dried off and slipped on fuzzy pajama pants and a  loose sweater. 

“The usual?” Barry asked as they nestled together on the sofa. 

Ramsey nodded, and Barry pulled up the movie You’ve Got Mail on the television. He tugged a blanket over them both as Ramsey snuggled in. This had been their routine for weeks now, and like every time before, they both fell asleep halfway through. It was nine o' clock in the morning when Barry woke up again; he was always the first one awake, and his neck and back were stiff as boards, but it didn’t matter. Speed healing would take care of it in ten minutes flat, and even if it wouldn’t, it was worth it to hear the soft, little snores coming from the meta human burrowed against his chest.

Barry rested his chin on Ramsey’s head and breathed in the lingering floral scent that clung  to the man’s skin. With the sun rising and casting long beams of golden and pink light across the apartment, things almost felt normal, just for that little bit. Peaceful. He stroked along Ramsey’s back, closing his eyes and waiting. It was about an hour later that Ramsey stirred, stretching and trying— but failing— to stifle a yawn. 

“Morning,” Barry greeted with a small smile. “Breakfast?”

Ramsey let out a muffled hum of pleasure. “Please.”

He let Barry up, and Barry padded into the kitchen to get started. Opening the fridge revealed two distinct kinds of food. Traditional American breakfast foods— bacon, eggs, syrup, pancake mix, and juice— sat on one section of the fridge, while traditional Indian foods sat on another. Barry blinked at his favorite foods. He hadn’t bought them. But there they were, and in plentiful quantities. Barry felt warmth curl in his chest as he got out various supplies, and began whipping together something different. A few omelettes for himself, and some other stuff, nothing fancy. Ramsey’s breakfast, on the other hand, was a bit more special. Barry had looked up a few comfort food recipes over the last two weeks,  stuff that Ramsey had mentioned his mother making for him when he’d been sick as a kid.

Pongal was simple enough. Rice, lentils, and a handful of herbs and spices. It took a longer time than some breakfast foods, but it was easy on the stomach and delicious. Win/win. The room began to fill with the scent of cumin, ginger, and pepper as Barry cooked, and he grinned a little as Ramsey peeked over the back of the sofa at him, silent but curious. 

When Barry brought over their breakfasts, he couldn’t help but chuckle as Ramsey’s eyes lit up. “I  thought maybe you’d like something familiar.”

“You thought right,” Ramsey said as he accepted his plate. “How did you know to make this?”

“Looked it up online after you mentioned it. It’s pretty easy.”

Ramsey gazed at Barry for a long moment. “I can’t believe you, sometimes.”

“Is that a bad thing?”

“No. Not at all.”

But then Ramsey began to eat, so Barry followed suit, without further discussion. Once they were both done, they headed into the kitchen together to wash the dishes. Another quiet activity, but Barry didn’t mind. They didn’t need to fill the air with chatter, and Ramsey was never talkative after an episode, anyways. At this point, it was customary for Barry to dry and put away the dishes, make sure Ramsey was alright, and then leave. 

Once the dishes had been out away, Barry hovered in the doorway of Ramsey’s apartment. “Are you sure you’ll be okay?” he asked. “I made you some extra food for later.”

“I’ll be alright. Thank you. I really do appreciate all of this.”

Barry hesitated, then reached out to stroke his thumb across Ramsey’s cheek. “I know things aren’t great right now, but I want you to know that no matter what’s going on... you know, out there in the world... I’m here  for you. Okay? I want to help you.”

For a moment, Ramsey just searched Barry’s face, conflict and pain evident in his eyes. Barry thought he was going to say something, finally come clean maybe, but then Ramsey was leaning in and pressing their lips together in a soft  kiss. Melting against Ramsey, Barry kissed back. He could still taste the ginger on Ramsey’s tongue as the kiss turned into something deeper, something desperate and longing. When they finally parted, Ramsey’s  breathing was ragged, and Barry could feel tension in the air between them.

“Stay,” Ramsey said. Not a question, but there was a plea in his tone. “Just for a while longer.”

It wasn’t a good idea. Barry could tell just by looking into Ramsey’s eyes what he was thinking, and Barry knew that if Ramsey asked for more, he would happily give it. Where would that leave them, each being who they were? How would that change things? Would it? Barry knew he should leave, and not risk complicating matters. Even if it was for someone who needed him, someone who wanted so badly to not feel sick, helpless, and  alone. It was too much of a risk.

... Right?

After a moment of thought, Barry stepped back inside the apartment, closing the door behind him.

Sometimes, risks were worth taking.

Shànyì (善意)

Fandom: Mulan.

Summary: An AU/canon divergence mashup between the animated movie, and what has been shown from the 2020 movie. After doing some research on the Huns and their tendency in those days to take slaves, with some able to earn their freedom by fighting alongside the Huns, I wondered-- what if the Huns had taken Mulan in after the battle on the mountains, instead of her going back?

This is a one shot, for now, but may evolve into a longer series in time.

The title is a play on the name Shan Yu--  善意 in Mandarin means benevolence, or good will.

Rating: T+.

Tags: Canon divergence, death mention, hurt/comfort of sorts, enemies to friends, not explicitly shippy but a little wlw if you squint, queer Mulan, shapeshifting, witchcraft.

Word Count: 978.

The sun was setting. The air was growing colder.

She was going to die on the mountain, Mulan thought absent-mindedly as she huddled against her horse, trying to stave off the encroaching chill. She'd been left there with her sword and armor, a few scant rations of food, and a thin blanket; it was more than she'd expected, considering Shang should have executed her by law, but it wasn't enough to survive. Not with her injuries. And with the snow so deep all around her thanks to her clever trick, and who knew what sort of sharp weaponry buried with the dead under it all, simply riding out wasn't possible. Her faithful companion had gone as far as he could, but they had only made it far enough to get out of the direct wind.

It wouldn't be enough to save them.

Mulan felt a brief stab of bitterness. Sparing her life was meaningless. It  just traded a quick death for a slow, painful one, and the worst part is that she would never be able to tell her family goodbye or that she was sorry. Would they ever know what happened to her? Would anyone tell them? Would they be okay?

Tired. Mulan curled into a tight ball, pulling the blanket tighter around her shoulders and closing her eyes. She was so cold, and her entire body ached. Maybe if she just rested a  moment, they could try again to find a way out...

She was starting to drift when a faint rustle overhead stirred her. Mulan struggled to open her eyes. In the fading light, there was a shadow circling along the sparkling snow; she only had a moment to register the shadow as a bird before the falcon landed mere feet away. Mulan didn't try to stand or fight as the falcon's body began to transform, feathers melting in some haunting, almost beautiful way. There was little point in trying to escape the woman now standing in the bird's place.

Xian Lang stared down at Mulan, her wispy clothes billowing in the wind, and the last rays of sunlight glinting off the golden crown that graced her head. She didn't speak at first, and when she did, her voice was both so soft that Mulan barely heard it-- and sharp enough to cut to the bone. "I told you."

I told you they would betray you.

I told you they would leave you for dead.

I told you it was for nothing.

Those three words, and everything they meant, rested heavy in Mulan's heart. She opened her mouth to reply, but nothing came out. She had no answer. She had no argument, nor any witty retort. All she had was that singular truth laid bare, and Mulan couldn't deny it. "I know," she answered, finally. "I know that, now."

The witch didn't blink those dark, amber eyes. "So, what now?"

Mulan stared up at her. What now? What else was there to do, except die?

"Do you expect me to leave you here, to suffer?" Xian Lang continued. "Or perhaps you'll ask me to end it quickly, before you freeze or starve?"

Shifting her gaze to the woman's sharp talons, Mulan wondered what it would be like, to have them carve into her throat. "I killed your people." She winced as she drew her sword, laying it in the snow between them. "Whatever punishment you deem fitting, I suppose, would be fair."

Xian Lang looked at the sword. She moved forward then, slowly, before kneeling and picking up the sword. For a long moment, she studied the weapon, before closing the distance between them and offering the sword back to Mulan. "You should keep this, I think."

"But..." Frowning, Mulan took the sword back. She glanced at it, before lifting her eyes back up to the witch, who was so close that Mulan could feel the warmth of her breath. "I don't understand."

"I wouldn't expect you to, yet." She stood, extending a hand. "But maybe you will. Why don't I make you a different offer? Come with me. I will lead you safely off the mountain, and away from this place."

"Why? Why would you do that?"

"Because my friend survived, and he wishes to look into the eyes of the soldier who defeated his army."

"Ah. So he can kill me instead."

"Maybe." Xian Lang smiled, then, a wretched sort of smile that held little mirth. "Maybe not."

Mulan eyed the witch's hand before reaching out and taking it. There was no point in refusing. She had no other chance for survival, not that she could see, and if she died at the hands of the Hun leader... Well, so be it. Dying on her feet was preferable to dying in the snow like some abandoned dog. Xian Lang pressed her other hand to Mulan's cheek; a pleasant sort of heat moved through her muscles, and the pain of her injuries dulled just enough to be bearable.

"Get on your horse, and follow me. It won't be long if you trust my guidance."

Nodding, Mulan did as she was ordered. Her horse huffed in protest at wading through the deep drifts in the dark, but Xian Lang wasn't waiting. She was already walking away, moving on top of the snow as if she was weightless, with a soft glowing light in her hands like a tiny star among the night sky. Mulan had expected to feel some sort of reserve in  following her, but there was none. Wherever she was leading Mulan, surely it couldn't be any worse, and loyalty was no longer any concern.

Last time the witch offered help, Mulan had ignored it.

She wouldn't make the same mistake twice.

Announcing some current projects:

> The Society one-shots, based in the same universe as AGATO. Cooking up some Sam/Grizz right now. :D

> Mulan AU/canon divergence, loosely combining the animated and the 2020 movies, where Mulan defects to the Hun army.

> Loveless AU/canon divergence, told from Soubi and Ritsu’s point of view. (Probably won’t be ready until the summer, but it’s coming.)

> Arrowverse one-shots! We’re looking at some possible SnowFrost, Coldflash, some WestAllen, Thallen???, who knows it’s an ever evolving surprise! x)

> Teen Wolf AU/canon divergence Bedroom Hymns miiiight come out of hiatus! I’m gonna try to get the muse back, anyways. I really enjoyed that one.

Some of these will be Patreon-only, while others will be uploaded to Patreon first and then here, before moving to AO3.

I’m super excited to be bringing you more content in 2020!