Disclaimer: I do not own the characters represented or mentioned in this story, nor did I have any input when these characters were created. I have the same birthday as Gus Van Sant though, if that makes any difference :)
This was intended to be just a small, simple drabble, but I may continue it. I always thought Mike needed someone who wasn't a complete bastard, and this mystery man could be it!
Also, reviews are a dish best served warm. or positive(or constructive) at least.
The world shifts into motion.
The road is gone.
A house sits alone in the wheat fields, dirty white slats and dark windows. Mike feels the air rush below him, carrying him steadily closer. His eyes flutter open, distracted and distant, but he sees the house, and for seconds he feels overwhelming joy. The arms beneath him tighten, and Mike grasps for the impossible reprieve.
"Mom?"
But the arms are too thick, masculine. When he hears the deep, throaty chuckle, his heart sinks and his eyes roll back and for one fleeting second he feels himself slump into that montage of memories, slipping into a world where he relives everything; his whole life on slideshow. Sitting at the campfire with Scott, riding through the streets with Scott, laughing in the moonlight with Scott. Lying in the darkness, alone. Sleeping on the Portland curbs, alone. Waiting by the lights of the street lamp, alone.
"Scotty?"
He thinks of Scott Favor in that high-necked collar; the three piece suit that looked so beautiful, and even as he slips away he knows the thought is impossible.