Maps
Fandom: Wizards Vs Aliens
Rating: K+
Genre: Angst, Romance
Pairing: Tom/Lexi; Tom/Katie
Word Count: 1234
Summary: Lexi knew that Tom wouldn't wait for her. And, after much deliberation, maybe she should let him go. (One-sided, I guess?) Tom/Lexi ONESHOT.
AN: ANGST. Why did I think that writing this in study period was a good idea? I knew that this would probably make me unhappy to write, but, once it's written, it'll leave me alone and I can go back to my delusions that Tom is not on the Denial Train headed towards Denialville about everything that happened with Lexi/Benny Junior/THE ENTIRE SERIES TWO STORYLINE IN GENERAL. Title comes from the song Maps, by Maroon 5, which I'm listening to right now - the lyrics are kind of like Lexi's POV in this story.
Disclaimer. I do not own Wizards Vs Aliens. This angst would not be happening if I did.
Today had certainly been an interesting for Lexi, to say the least. How exactly had she gotten so caught up in this mad venture? One moment, she had been at work, minding her own business, stacking the shelves, when her next door neighbour had come barrelling into the shop, grabbing an EMF metre from the neatly organised shelf, effectively ruining the past half an hour of Lexi's shift, babbling on her phone to someone about her grandfather and hauntings and the Blackberry theatre...
Intriguing. Far too intriguing to miss. Far too intriguing to save for when she clocked off for the day, when she had that gloriously long lunch break to spend on whatever she needed...
Sweeping her torch in a lazy arch, she took one last long look around the stage. Two hours she'd been here, and not once had she seen any sign of life - actually living or otherwise - anywhere. Well, no one except a very peculiar journalist...Lauren? Laura? Was that her name?
Her name was unimportant; what was important was the fact that she was incredibly irritating, following Lexi around like a lost puppy and shoving a recording device in her face at every opportunity she got. Lexi had bared her teeth in the nicest smile she could muster, and asked her, as politely as she possibly could, if she would be so kind as to check the stage for any sign of life. She'd disappeared, and Lexi hadn't seen her since, thank goodness. Something felt...off about her. She couldn't put her finger on exactly what that something was, but she couldn't shake the uneasy feeling in her stomach she had gotten whenever that reporter had fixed those beady eyes on her.
Regardless, there was no one else here now, and Lexi was particularly aware of the fact that her lunch break had ended precisely half an hour ago and her phone had rang at least four times, and, when she last checked, she had three messages on her voicemail and over eleven texts, none of which she'd looked at. In fact, she'd switched her phone off and buried the little plastic device in her pocket, a little afraid to face the wrath of her boss. She may have been born Nekross, fearing no one, but her job meant income. Income meant a house. Income meant food and water. Income meant warm clothes and heating.
She jumped down off the stage, and started towards the exit, huddling in the thin jacket she'd hastily tugged on over her uniform when she'd escaped during her lunch break. It was freezing inside; she was looking forward to walking in the comfortable autumn breeze, watching the burnt orange leaves fall from the trees and flutter slowly to the ground. She'd caught one once - well, prevented it from flying into her face. If you caught a falling leaf and made a wish, it would come true, apparently. So, she had. She wished very, very hard. And, then, she'd tucked the leaf back into her pocket and carried on walking, head in the clouds, mind in the past. She'd wished to see Tom again, even if it was just on the street, even if it was just for a few minutes. She wanted to know whether he was happy, whether he had done well in school, whether he had found somebody else -
No. She wasn't going there. Plenty of time for that when she was sitting up by herself in the middle of the night, alone with her thoughts. Right now, all she had to concentrate on was not getting fired and becoming homeless. She flicked her torch off with a satisfying click as she slipped through the door, wondering how her feet could make no sound on the stone floor -
She froze into place, her thought process grounding to a halt.
Tom was seated on the bench a few metres away, a small brunette at his side. Well, not really at his side. More like practically climbing into his lap, as their lips collided.
Her stomach churned, bringing some kind of sensation to the attention of her paralysed mind, and she forced herself to drop her gaze and shuffle silently away, one heavy step at a time, bile rising up in her throat.
She should have known. She should have known that Tom wouldn't wait for her. Why should he? He had his whole life ahead of him, a whole life of freedom. She'd told herself that many times, that there was no room for her in that equation and that was totally fine, but she knew, deep down, that she hadn't believed it, not really. In her heart, she'd held on, kept the faith that Tom still loved her. And that had been her downfall; there was a physical ache in her chest right above her heart - or rather where her heart had been. Tom had her heart. Had her heart and had stomped on it, broken it into tiny fractured pieces, no hope of ever being put back together in the same way. If it would ever be put back together at all; didn't humans say that you would know when you had found The One for you? She had been pretty sure that she knew. Maybe it was different for everyone. Maybe Tom's One was someone different. Maybe he had found The One in the brunette girl. Someone who he could have a proper life with. A normal life. Someone who he could love without family war getting in the way. Someone who was the complete opposite of her - someone who hadn't killed, who hadn't murdered in cold blood, who had done terrible things to him, and then laughed about it.
She hadn't even realised that she was crying until she felt something damp drop onto her collar bone, and trickle down to soak in the lining of her jacket. She sniffled, letting out a gust of air, scrubbing hard at her eyes with her sleeve. What would her family say now if they saw her like this? Crying over a boy! A wizard, no less! Hadn't she already bought enough shame upon her family?
No. She'd decided. She was never going to be a burden on anyone else ever again - not her family, not Tom, not her son when he was old enough to start his own life. She was going to grit her teeth, force a smile, and follow the map wherever it took her.
Maybe she should start trying to find a job she liked.
Something in literature. She liked literature. Not the far-fetched, star-crossed Romeo and Juliet material, but a more comfortable, realistic romance.
Maybe she should look to writing her own material.
Maybe she should buy a typewriter or a notepad and get started right now.
Yes. That sounded like a good plan. She straightened her shoulders, raising her chin in defiance.
"This is not a goodbye, my darling, this is a thank you." The words from a novel she had once read echoed through her mind. "Thank you for coming into my life and giving me joy, thank you for loving me and receiving my love in return. Thank you for the memories I will cherish forever. But most of all, thank you for showing me that there will come a time when I can eventually let you go."