Okay, here we are again!
I have a couple of announcements to make. First of all, let me tell you this, I do ship Alex and Magnus, but I did not write this story as a romantic one. Why? Mostly, because of the emotional place Alex is currently at. You are free to interpret it however you want, but I do want you guys to know that it was not my intention to write this story as a means to pair them up. I see this as a completely platonic, friendship kind of thing, because Alex needs that. The poor thing needs someone she can trust and rely on, and even if I do think this caring for each other will eventually evolve into a romantic thing, I do not approve of making it all about romance so early in the beginning. Just me ranting, never mind.
Now, there's this warning I need to put out. There's mentions of child abuse in this chapter. Specifically, incestuous sexual abuse. It never gets too graphic, but since the definition of 'graphic' varies from person to person, please let me know if I should add a more specific mark or warning for you to know.
Just one last thing, I swear. In case you guys are interested in the creation process of this story, it was originally planned as a one-shot. I started writing it on my phone, and I actually began by writing the ending scene because i was just super inspired to write that. However, when I finally put it in a Word document I realized that there were already 18 pages written and half the story was missing, that's why I decided to split it. In the end, this thing had something like 48 pages, and I'm very proud of it. One of the last things I published took me like four months to write, and it only had 17 pages. I literally sat at my computer for a week, trying to write something, and barely managed 10 pages. It was as if every single of the words had to be extracted from the depths of my pain.
To put it simply, my main character was not cooperating. She refused to let me do my job and instead tried everything she could to prevent me from getting the story written. I know it sounds silly, but if you've ever tried to write something, you know there's a point were the characters have minds of their own.
With Alex and Magnus I had no such problems. I managed 20 pages in two days, I cannot even comprehend how that happened. They were both wonderful characters to me, they had so much to say and they wanted it to be said, so, let me tell you, writing this story, despite the inherent heaviness and pain the theme brought, was bliss for me. I will 100% work with them again, not only because I love them, but also because they made my job so much easier. Honestly, when both writer and characters work together, good things happen. I really hope you consider this story to be a good thing.
Umm... I think that's all for now. I really hope you enjoy this little something!
The Cage
Magnus tried, he swore in the name of all the Norse gods he knew and even some of the Greek ones, that he had tried to follow Hearth's advice. He had backed off as much as his conscience would let him. He settled for only greeting Alex with a muttered welcome in the mornings, and he forced himself not to acknowledge the bags under the daughter of Loki's eyes. He stopped talking to her, unless she began a conversation, which, truthfully, wasn't often.
It almost felt like watching the flame of a candle. Magnus knew that, logically, he shouldn't walk straight to it and touch it, but the glimpse of fire left adrift seemed condemned to be blown out by a strong gust of wind unless someone shielded it from the irascibility of the elements. Of course, Magnus was also aware that such a comparison made no sense. Alex, as she herself enjoyed reminding others, was not some pinky princess that had to be protected. Far from that, Alex was glaringly more experienced in the battlefield that Magnus would ever be able to claim he was.
So no, Magnus was perfectly grounded, and he knew for a fact that his train of thought made no sense. That didn't stop him from worrying, however, as the days began to accumulate, and Alex appeared thinner and thinner.
Still, the son of Frey forced himself to stay out of it. When and if Alex wanted him to know what was wrong, she would tell him. He could give her that, at the very least, the space for her to make her own decisions.
—*—*—
Regrettably, Magnus' resolution came to an abrupt stop only a week and a half after he had spoken to Hearthstone. He soon learned he had not been imagining things, and the sickly paleness in Alex's skin was in fact existent. Often times, too, Magnus had noted that her attention seemed to be split, her eyes unfocused and her concentration clearly not in the conversation they were supposed to be having. It was only natural, he supposed, with how little she was eating and how few hours of sleep she was getting.
Still, the one thing that seemed to ignite the flare in her bicolored eyes back into a bonfire were the war games. Whenever they were training, she would be focused instantly, her machete deadly as ever. To Magnus, it seemed that she was forcing herself to concentrate on something that was not her, a welcome breath of freedom, something that she could be in charge of. As long as she was still feared by her peers and her reputation was intact, Alex had her self-made fame to return to, even when everything else was glaringly crashing and slipping out of her control. It was just a matter of time, a part of Magnus knew, before that crippled logic crumbled.
It happened during a Thursday. Magnus hated Thursdays. Even more, he loathed them, because they meant dragons and fire and, obviously, death. A more painful death than he wanted to have. At that point, Magnus was used to the feeling of dying, to the slow regaining of his conscience before dinner and to the lingering pain that a stab wound left for a few hours after coming back. It was simply a part of being an einherji, he knew that. Training and dying and sumptuous suppers and training and dying some more.
Still, being incinerated to death was more… troublesome, to say the least. And he hated it.
Others, like Halfborn and Mallory, actually seemed to count the days of the week, eagerly waiting for it to be Thursday again. They seemed to like it, to enjoy it, even. It was a challenge, another way to prove their worth. Magnus supposed that, after decades of being in Valhalla, you either settled for a similar mindset or you lost your sanity.
Alex was usually in the neutral side of it. She didn't overly relish the lindworms, as they were related to her mother, and she absolutely despised Loki. Still, she adored a challenge, as she always appreciated the chance to show her abilities off. Lindworms were merely the means to an end. Often times, Alex and Halfborn made bets about who would last longer in the battlefield. Mallory had a tendency to vote on Alex's behalf simply to piss Halfborn off.
That day, however, it was clear that Alex was not capable of keeping herself on her feet, lindworms or not, so Halfborn refrained —after a sharp nudge from his girlfriend― from commenting the bet to Alex. Such a thing also seemed to be far down in Alex's list of priorities. It was not a surprise, as she seemed ready to pass out, an unhealthy hue to her cheeks that made Magnus think she had either thrown up already or would in a matter of minutes.
This time, it was so clear that something was not right with the daughter of Loki, that the other members of floor 19 also took notice of it. Still, Alex refused to listen when T. J. mentioned that, although it was a rarely used measure, as it was extremely odd that one of the einherji called in sick, she could do that and stay in bed to rest. As all answer, the daughter of Loki only stared back at him with scorn. That, or she had squinted in an attempt make out what he had said, Magnus was not entirely sure, and he had no time to figure it out before they were all dragged to the battlefield.
It was a good thing that Alex had not entered any bet with Gunderson that day, because, as things turned out, she was first one to perish. Things started wrong when Mallory had to remind Alex that she usually paired up with Magnus. She might have as well sent the shapeshifter to any of the other hundreds of members of floor 19, because Magnus' name didn't seem to ring any bells for the daughter of Loki.
As it was his great delight, T. J. hurried to take the first hill in sight. Terrible idea, because a higher location immediately called one of the dragon's recognition. From his peripheral vision, Magnus saw Alex numbly reach for her machete, an instinct that she at least seemed conscious enough to maintain.
Deciding that he should also focus on the battle, Magnus' hand went to touch the pendant of his necklace. Soon enough, Jack appeared.
"Oi, señor, what's up with all this noise?" the sword asked almost instantly.
"It's Thursday," Magnus shrugged for all answer. With a curt nod —if a sword could even do something like that― Jack got to work.
In T. J.'s hill, the former soldier endeavored in trying to stab the dragon's chest with his bayonet. Mallory was being equally unsuccessful with getting her blades to cause real damage to the beast's right leg. Halfborn was nowhere to be seen.
Never mind, Thursdays were not a good day to call in sick. That, at least, appeared to be Alex's train of thought, because, upon having a clear view of the lindworm, her eyes cleared and she raced to meet the others on the hill. Magnus had few options other than to follow her.
"Take the left side!" Mallory lost no time in instructing him; again, Magnus obeyed.
Alex, however, had a very different idea. Transforming into some wort of small bird, a lark, probably, she began to overfly the beast. Magnus presumed her plan was to approach the dragon enough without being noticed that when she transformed back into her original form, Alex could sit on its shoulders and throw her garrote under its neck, which would allow her to pull the animal back enough to give Mallory and T. J. a chance at stabbing its belly.
It was a good plan, Magnus had to admit, something they had done several times before when facing a dragon. Except this time, Alex's movements were clumsy, and the effort of shifting immediately took its toll on her already weakened body. Before the small fowl could even reach enough height to confront the dragon, Alex's resolution faltered, and she returned to her human form midair.
The sudden apparition of another yummy einherji seemed to spark the lindworm's attention, as it stopped paying any mind to Mallory and T. J.'s fruitless attacks and instead began to approach Alex, trying to catch her unconscious body as she fell. Things were about to turn even worse.
"Jack!" Magnus called without even fully realizing the words had left his mouth. Only a fraction of his attention was in the beast in front of him. He knew he would not make it in time to catch Alex, and so he could only watch helplessly as her body hit the ground.
"On it!" the sword called back, as it planted itself right in front of the dragon. For a moment, the beast eyed Jack with something that almost seemed surprise. Magnus supposed that even immortal monsters like this one had only seen a few —if any― talking swords. Nevertheless, Jack's effect would only last momentarily, and Magnus had no time to waste on Lindworm Studies 101.
Swiftly, Magnus turned his attention to Alex. She had regained consciousness and was trying to sit up. There was an open wound on the right side of her head, presumably from the fall, and the blood pouring out of the injury fell on her light pink top profusely, turning it a deep carmine and concealing any other important wounds on her body. Magnus also took note of the fact that she was hugging her left arm too close to her chest; it was probably broken.
"Hey, hey, I've got you," he told her, kneeling by her side. When he reached for her, she didn't even try to fight him.
"What're ya doing?" she slurred. Her eyes were dim and she seemed to be dozing off. Worried that she might lose consciousness again, Magnus placed one of his hands on Alex's back, supporting her weight.
"And you ask me?" Magnus retorted. Before Alex had time to reply, the unholy hollers of the battle that Magnus had shut out so he could concentrate solely on the daughter of Loki came back, so insistent that it became impossible to ignore them for any longer. Especially because, as Magnus soon discovered, those were the screams of his own friends, trying to get his attention. Unfortunately, Magnus did not require to listen to much of what they said, because the tremor of the ground was enough to warn him of the danger Alex and he were in―the lindworm had a target set in mind and he was racing straight to it.
Oh gods, Magnus thought. He really loathed Thursdays.
—*—*—
It took Alex nearly six hours to wake up again. She did so at 9:37 PM, to be exact, which meant that she would have been extremely late for dinner. As Magnus already knew.
In fact, he had been late to the banquet himself, but he had made it to the —oh joy― Thursday Hawaiian Luau. Magnus had to admit, being chewed to death by several rows of Lindworm teeth was even worse than being calcined. And he would know, as he had been killed by both of those methods.
He didn't find it surprising that one's body took longer to recover the more violent your death was. That was plain logic. It was not astounding, either, that it was more troublesome to heal a body that had not been well-fed or well-rested prior to its death. Which was exactly why he had expected Alex to regain consciousness much later than himself. He was not proved wrong.
Until then, Magnus had not had the arguable honor of watching an einherji being brought back to life. He had no idea of what he had imagined the process to be —in fact, he was 99.99% certain that he'd never asked for in-depth detail―, but it was not what he saw that night. Truth to tell, part of him still thought that he shouldn't be in the room, as resurrecting was something deeply personal in essence. It was an unspoken rule to not bother anyone who had been recently killed in combat. There were very few etiquette codes in Valhalla, so Magnus supposed that the least he could do was following the ones that did exist.
Still, he found himself not stepping back. Once it became clear that Alex would not be back on time for dinner, he made sure to get some extra food and discretely exited the luau. Clearly, he could have left the bowl on Alex's drawer and left, but he had ultimately decided against it.
To be completely honest, he was tired. Tired of running away, of turning a blind eye. Tired of pretending not to notice something that was so glaringly obvious. And if the desperate, and, dare he say, terrified way Alex had looked at him at the battlefield was anything to go by, so was she.
Perhaps the rational thing to do was to let things follow their natural course. Everyone else seemed to be of a similar opinion. Still, he found himself unable to step back and wait for something to happen with crossed arms. He had never before been afraid of being the first one to reach out, and this time would not be different. Alex could try throwing a human size pot at him, but he was not leaving her room unless and until he got a real answer from her. As things were, Alex would probably wake up too tired to even lift the spoon in her plate.
Apparently, the process of regaining consciousness did not include random parts of the body appearing in the einherji bed. No, which was fortunate, because Magnus wasn't mentally prepared to see something like that happen.
Instead, it seemed that the whole body of the deceased hero appeared first. Afterwards, as good, old Norse magic worked hard on healing the visible wounds and internal damage, the person remained unconscious, almost as if they were simply sleeping. Well, that, or undergoing a surgery after a fatal car crash.
Magnus had been waiting in Alex's room for around half an hour before her body materialized in her mattress. She was fully clothed, thank the gods, but that did not stop Magnus from noticing the several bruises that peppered her body. Even worse, some of the teeth marks the lindworm had left on her skin were still bleeding, although the crimson liquid failed to stain the covers when it dripped from Alex's body. It was almost like a ghostly image, a hologram of the einherji's body that slowly found the strength to fully coalesce.
From that moment on, the next hour and a half passed by with Magnus being a nervous wreck as he constantly debated on whether or not if he wanted to turn and see the eerie process of the healing of Alex's visible wounds. Even after the teeth marks had disappeared from her skin and the scars had turned fainter until they paled to become invisible, it still took the daughter of Loki something like fifteen or twenty more minutes of rest before her eyelids fluttered open.
From his spot on the floor, Magnus instantly picked up the sigh that escaped her lips as she regained consciousness. Placed on top of the salmon-colored cover, Alex's fingers began to move. She started by flexing them, then she proceeded to rotate her wrists. Finally, she reached for her temples and began massaging them. It was then that she let out a pained moan and finally opened her eyes.
"Fuck it, I'm late," she muttered hoarsely when she caught a glimpse of a clock with bright, red numbers.
"You're more than late," Magnus shrugged, raising to his feet. It was better to let Alex know straight away that he was there rather than to wait until she found out on her own. From where he stood, Magnus clearly saw a tremor running down Alex's spine, although when she turned to meet him, she seemed completely unfazed.
"Why am I not surprised by your presence here?" she―he, definitely a he, Magnus realized as soon as their eyes met, questioned instantly. Biting his lower lip, Alex straightened up on his bed, until his back was leaning against the headboard.
"Because you still have a tiny bit of common sense?" the son of Frey offered, only half joking. "You see, I knew you wouldn't wake up on time for dinner, so… I brought you something."
"So that's the smell," Alex murmured. "For the gods' sake, why can't you just go away?" he questioned, in such a low and defeated voice that Magnus supposed Alex had not intended for him to listen. He answered back at him nonetheless.
"I'm not going anywhere, Alex. Not this time," he stated. "I already tried that, and it only got both of us a painful death."
"You didn't have to come to my aid, you know? Don't fucking blame that on me," he quickly replied, although his words lacked the venomous end that they'd held the last times he'd kicked the son of Frey out of his room. "It was your damned hero complex and not me that got you killed."
"You're wrong. I did have to check on you," he retorted simply. "We're teammates, Alex, whether you like it or not. That means it is my responsibility to watch your back when we're on the battlefield. And by the look you had when you entered that place it was not hard to tell that you were not going to last long in there."
"Geez, thanks, I―"
"No, listen to me," he rapidly cut him off. "I'm not saying you're a bad fighter, the gods know I would never do that after you've saved my sorry ass on multiple occasions. But here's the thing―you're not taking proper care of yourself, and that's taking its toll on you."
"Thank you," Alex barked, breathing raggedly. "If that's what you wanted to hear, there you have it. Thank you."
"That's not, by far, what I want to hear, but I appreciate it," Magnus continued. "What I would be really glad to know is what's going on, because only then will I know how to help you."
"I already told you that―"
"Yes, I heard you. That I can't do anything for you," the son of Frey conceded. "Listen, I'm not having this conversation with you until you've eaten something."
"I don't―"
"Please, Alex. Call it a truce, no man's land, whatever you need to, but please eat something."
"Fine," he sighed as Magnus began walking over to the drawer. "No, no, don't bring it to me. I'm not some sick old lady in her deathbed."
"Well, I can see why you would deny the 'lady' part, but as for the deathbed, I'll let you know that you did look like you were in one a moment ago," Magnus shrugged, placing the tray back on the piece of furniture when he saw Alex motion to get to his feet. He found it stunning how the tiniest fraction of the tension in Alex's shoulders melted whenever Magnus used the correct pronoun when he addressed him. This time was no different, and that small action ignited a spark of newfound hope in the son of Frey's chest. "You'll hurt yourself."
"Stand back," Alex instantly ordered. "I cannot do a lot of things right now, but I can sure as hell walk these two steps."
With a nod, Magnus decided to let him do. Alex deserved to at least have the space he needed. After all, he had already invaded Alex's privacy enough by trespassing into the son of Loki's bedroom. When Alex finally took the prophetic two steps, Magnus noted that he limped a bit. A little worrisome, although not bad, considering he had been eaten by a dragon barely six hours ago.
"Why don't you take a seat," Alex offered, pointing to the atrium of his room. "You didn't seem to have a problem doing so without my consent, so, by all means, be my guest."
"I'm sorry I came into you room like this," Magnus admitted, walking over to the tree that embellished the center of the room. "But I knew that you wouldn't let me in if I politely knocked on your door."
"I don't have to―"
"I brought a peace offering," he reminded the son of Loki. "And we had agreed not to fight until you'd eaten something."
Shrugging, Alex took a seat next to Magnus and finally turned his attention to the tray of food in his hands.
"Chicken soup?" he asked with a lopsided grin that made Magnus think there was more to it than Alex was willing to tell him at the moment.
"Actually, it was Sam who told me what to get you," he said. "I just wanted to get out of the luau."
"Could have been worse," Alex replied, so softly that Magnus decided there was definitely more to it. "Also, the luau sucks."
"At least we agree on something," the son of Frey nodded. And, during the next few minutes, it seemed they did, as none of them added anything else to the conversation.
For the first time in literal months, Magnus saw Alex dig into his food with good appetite and an even better demeanor. It was good to see that he had at least accomplish that. If once Alex was done eating he still wanted to kick Magnus out of the room, then the son of Frey would go out knowing that at the very least, he had managed to make Alex have a decent meal, and that was more than he had achieved in the last weeks.
Once the son of Loki had finished off the soup and the lemon pie Magnus had brought with him, the son of Frey decided that it was time to bring up the elephant in the room.
"Alex, I mean it," he began. "If there is something, anything, that I can do for you, if you would just let me know…"
"You don't want to know," he stated, resigned.
"I don't?" Magnus inquired. "Then please explain to me what I am doing here, because I genuinely, with every fiber of my being, believe that I am here because I want to help you."
"You can't help me," he insisted. "No one can."
"I know you don't believe me. And you don't have to, but Alex, please, even if I really can't do anything, maybe just sharing the burden will help."
"I don't want you to change the way you see me just because… because of what happened," Alex surrendered, fidgeting with the spoon in his hands.
"That wouldn't happen."
"You know nothing," he counterattacked.
"Because you won't tell me!" Magnus shot back. "Here's what I know. I know that you're fierce and that you're strong. I also know that you are scared, you're so terrified that you're blocking away every person who tries to help you."
"I don't need your pity. I don't need your help," Alex replied in a weakened voice.
"I'm not saying you need my help, but you do need someone willing to share the weight of that burden with you."
"I didn't need it before. I don't need it now," he insisted.
"To be completely honest… I think you did," Magnus sighed. "I think you needed help before but no one around you was willing to offer it to you. And now that you have people who actually care about you, you can't tell the difference."
"How dare you―"
"What's your plan, Alex?" Magnus pressured. "To let this eat you alive because you're not sleeping and you're barely eating and overall you look terrible?"
"Jeez, thank you! I'm even tempted to believe you now that you―"
"Don't get started, you know what I meant," he brushed him off. "You looked so sick today at the battlefield that you couldn't even transform. That's second nature to you, it runs in your veins and yet you are so affected by the lack of sleep that you couldn't do it."
"That's none of your business."
"Except it is! It got me killed today and it's got me worried for weeks," the son of Frey insisted. With a pang of guilt, he realized he'd raised his voice. Forcing himself to regain the control of the tone of his words, he tried once more. "Alex, please."
"No. You know nothing. You don't have to know."
"You know what, you're right," Magnus conceded heavily. "It's not technically my business. But I am willing to make it mine, because that's what people who care about each other do. I want to help you. And if the only way I can do that is by knowing what happened, then I do want to know."
Desperate, Alex kept his eyes pinned to Magnus', allowing the son of Frey to see the flashes of desolation that flickered in his un-matching eyes. The spoon he still held in his right hand clanked against the white ceramic of the bowl as his arms shook, and a strangled breath got caught in his throat.
"You don't want to know," Alex chocked out at last.
"Allow me to disagree, Alex," Magnus insisted. "But you do not know what I want."
"You won't like that story," he tried once more, his voice tainted with heavy urgency. "For Hell's sake, why can't you just leave me alone?"
"You are right," the son of Frey nodded. "I may not like that story, I won't doubt your word. Still, I don't like to see you so… emaciated. It doesn't suit you."
"Today, in the battlefield," Alex began once more, a desperate attempt to change the subject. "Why did you come after me? You knew I was going to die because I couldn't even keep my eyes open. You could have lasted longer, why did you come after me?"
"I believe I already answered that," Magnus shrugged. "I did that because I was worried about you. I have been for weeks. I knew I was going to die if I went to you instead of, you know, charging at that thing or whatever. I mean, I would have died either way."
"You don't know that."
"Of course I do. We both do. I'm not the fighter type, I'll leave that to you and to Halfborn. I'm not cut out for the job."
It was true. From the first moment he had set foot in Valhalla —even before that, but in this Norse afterlife, being an outstanding warrior was the only reason one deserved recognition for― it had been clear as a bell that he was not suited for the killing and the dying and, overall, the belligerent side of Valhalla. So much so, that his preferred weapon was a pop-singing sword that most of times did all the work by itself and afterwards only used Magnus as a vessel for the effort it had taken to actually combat. In the name of the gods, another of his well-known powers was knocking both his friends' and his foes' weapons out of their hands. Way to be a battler… with the power of peace.
No, Magnus Chase was not a warrior, not by Valhalla's or even by mortal standards. He was a healer. And at first, he had to admit that he had been rather ashamed of his abilities. That was to say, what would he do when Ragnarok came? Run, and hide and then try to patch up some injured berserkers? That didn't sound very epopee-deserving, to be honest.
Now, however, he was proud. He had long ago accepted the fact that he was not —and would probably never be― a Viking worth dedicating odes to. It didn't really matter to him. Fame had never been a motivator to his life, and he would not make it the motivator of his afterlife. In fact, he felt honored that his comrades trusted him enough to allow him to do something as intimate as healing them. Especially because, sometimes, he caught glimpses of their memories while he canalized magic to heal their injuries.
"Maybe," Alex accepted. "But you could have lasted longer if you weren't reckless enough to go after a burden like me."
"That's the funny thing, you know?" Magnus sighed. "I don't think you are a burden. Whatever your father and Loki and whoever made you think, I don't agree with them. Alex, when I met you, you asked me not to judge you. I have done my best to stay true to that promise. Now I ask the same from you. Don't judge me based on what other people have said and done to you."
The change in him was almost instant. As soon as the words had left Magnus' lips, Alex broke the eye contact. Despite his swiftness, Magnus caught a glimpse of how his orbs had glazed over. Alex's hands were shaking so badly that he decided to put the bowl on the grass as he sat cross-legged rather than to hear the clanking accusation of metal against ceramic. He breathed in a shaky intake of breath, which he let go in a sigh before he began talking once more.
"You know… that vision you had, about my father," he began, words uttered with the tiniest voice Magnus had ever heard Alex use. "When he kicked me out of the house. I know you think that's the last time I was there. That I called out and decided I'd rather spend my days on the streets than with someone as… as revolting as him."
He paused, breathing in heavily once more. He began fidgeting with his hands in a futile attempt to hide the tremor that had taken possession his body.
"I mean, it was always tumultuous with us," he continued. "I would be so done with him… with them, that I simply walked out of the house. My father would let me. He let me stay outside for a few days, he pretended I didn't exist. And then he would send someone after me. It didn't sit well with him that his perfect family was not together. It didn't look good."
"So that's what he―?"
"Yes," Alex confirmed. "He sent someone to find me after… after the vision you saw. One of his goons, and they brought me back. They always brought me back. They would give me this glimpse of freedom, of being with people who were not assholes like them and then they pulled the leash around my neck and sent me back with them."
"You still ran away for good after that," Magnus found himself saying, trying to put the pieces this tortuous puzzle together. "What made you decide it was enough and put your foot down?"
"I couldn't go back," the son of Loki replied rapidly. "Not after what happened I couldn't… I couldn't stay there… no. No."
A handful of anxious energy, Alex chose that moment to stand up and begin pacing around the atrium of his room. Not wanting to impede him from ambulating around, Magnus followed his example and stood back enough to allow Alex to stride as much as he needed.
"I had a sister," he forced out of his throat. "Well, an older sister and a younger brother. From my father's side, obviously. She… Monica… her name was Monica."
Again, the son of Loki required a moment to recover. He was breathing raggedly and his lips barely moved as he spoke, which meant Magnus strained to understand his words.
"She… I was so stupid. Oh gods, I was so stupid…" his voice faltered. "One day she asked me… she asked me if I wanted to be a real woman. And I said yes. Of course I said yes. I wanted… I wanted to be normal. I wanted it all to stop, the stares and the murmurs behind my back and the way my father looked at me. I just… I said yes."
"Alex, you already are a real woman," the son of Frey noted. "I mean not now, clearly, but when you are one… What was she talking about?"
"See? I told you you wouldn't understand. I didn't either at the time. I should have known better," he whimpered, his fists clenched so tightly that Magnus was convinced Alex's nails must have been piercing the skin in his palms. "She… she took me to her room. That afternoon no one… no one was home. My father and his wife had left to a party or some shit of the kind. And my brother, he… he stayed at a friend's house. Monica and I were home alone.
"She… she took me to her room," he resumed in a hoarse voice. He had stopped walking, unable to pull his attention away from the memory in his head. "I… We argued… I knew something was not right. She had this… insane look in her eyes, I… I knew something was not right. She made me… she made me undress me and she began touching… me. She had a vibrator and she… she put it in. I… I…" He trailed off, his eyes were glazed over, absent, and his shoulders seemed to convulse with each of the words he teared out of his throat. "I told her to stop. I begged her, I-I told her so many times to stop that I can't even… I told her to stop," he reiterated, his voice becoming lower and lower with each word.
"Alex…" Magnus couldn't help but whisper. With a sharp movement of his head, Alex gestured for him to stay quiet.
"I told her stop. I swear I told her," Alex insisted in a quavering voice. "I packed that night and I left. I never… I never went back. I couldn't do it, not after… after the incident… I couldn't go back."
"Alex, Alex," Magnus called, walking over to step in front of him to catch the son of Loki's attention. "Alex, look at me."
"I begged her to stop, I swear it. I-I told her," he insisted, denying with his head. "I-I… When I saw that kid, it brought it back. I… he was telling her to stop and she just wouldn't listen, she…"
"Alex, look at me," Magnus asked, placing his hands on the side of his interlocutor's head. Only when their eyes met did the son of Frey continue speaking. "I believe you. I believe that she hurt you and I believe that you didn't want for any of this to happen. I know it wasn't your fault."
"I didn't know how to shift then," Alex confessed, blinking repeatedly in an attempt to reabsorb the humidity that had began to pool at the bottom of his eyes. "I had changed shapes a few times, but I couldn't control it. If I had trained more, if I had listened to Loki when he said that―"
"No. No," Magnus quickly retorted. "I don't want to hear you say it. I don't want you to even think for a second that anything you could had done would have changed this outcome."
"I could have ran away before this happened, I could have… I could have done so many things. I didn't―I was so stupid. I stayed and she… she…"
"No," Magnus insisted firmly. "It wasn't your fault. I don't care what she told you. I don't care what they all told you, because it isn't true. This was not your fault and nothing you did would have stopped this… this monster."
Under his fingertips, Magnus clearly felt Alex's body shake. Standing this close to him, Magnus could also tell that the son of Loki was biting the inside of his cheeks to force quivering breaths of air down his throat.
"Oh Alex… Oh my gods…" the son of Frey let out in a whisper. Unthinking, his arms slipped from the side of Alex's head and wrapped around him. He should have asked Alex if it was alright with him if he did that, he knew that. He usually asked people if it was okay to touch them and heal them, but at the moment Magnus' own hands were shaking and he let his body act on its own accord.
For several moments, it was awkward, with only Magnus taking part of the improvised embrace. Magnus thought about the possibility of stepping back and dropping his arms altogether, but he suddenly had the very vivid image of his mother raising an eyebrow at him.
Natalie Chase was not a strict woman, not by any standards. However, if there was one thing she had been rigorous about, that was manners, and she'd learned a handful of sayings to engrave them in her son's memory. There was, of course, the typical―please and thank you, the magic words. Always walking a girl ―or a boy, for that matter, Natalie was raising no disrespectful kid― to the very door of her house after a date. Pulling his date's chair for them, holding the door open for the people who came behind him.
Magnus had tried as hard as he could to accomplish everything that his mother had asked from him, and at the time, a single one of his mother's phrases wormed its way to his mind―never be the first one to let go during a hug.
Sure enough, Alex wasn't really holding him, but Magnus was holding Alex and he knew that the boy in his arms was not ready to be let go of. Rather, Magnus was very sure that Alex had been let go of one too many times, sent away and shamed and pushed into the darkest pit they had found.
He was not about to do that to him. Not then, not ever. Not on his watch, thank you very much. There was no way in the Nine Worlds that Magnus was going to let Alex feel like he was not worth listening to or holding on for a little longer. No way.
So Magnus stayed where he was, his arms firmly placed around Alex's unmoving figure for longer than he cared to admit. Five more seconds went by, then twenty. It was probably two whole minutes before Magnus finally felt Alex arms timidly slip around his waist. Not that he'd ever thought that 'timidly' and 'Alex' could go in the same sentence.
Magnus froze momentarily, but the tension in his muscles quickly faded away. He didn't move, not even when Alex tightened his arms around him and started applying pressure on his sides. In a moment, Alex went from not even circling him to nearly crushing him with the unaltered strength with which he was clinging to his sides.
The son of Frey didn't say anything. He remained perfectly calm, gently holding Alex in his arms, maybe even afraid that if he so much as flinched or tried to grasp Alex tighter, he would step back and scream for him to get out of his room. At some point, his left hand moved to push Alex's face further into the crook of his neck and his right one migrated so that it rested on the small of Alex's back.
Trying to make himself useful, Magnus sent a wave of golden magic through his hands, more careful than ever to not meddle with Alex's thoughts. He knew just how much his friend hated it, and though he was never actually in control of the things he received when he tried to heal someone, this time he focused more than ever in blocking the flashes of memory that might pour into his mind if he tried to use his magic.
Of course, Magnus knew that it was silly to expect his powers to be enough to ease Alex's pain. He knew that taking away the desperation he had just heard in his friend's voice was asking too much of dumb summery magic. Yet, silly magic was all he had, and if he could only make Alex feel safe, feel cared for, then he would be content with the result. Therefore, Magnus kept his arms wrapped around the son of Loki and he willed his fingertips to glow with golden warmth as he drew circles across Alex's back.
Magnus remained silent when he felt Alex's hands bowl into fists around the fabric of his shirt. He remained still even when Alex shook in his arms, even when he was certain that Alex had started crying.
He wasted no breath in promising him that it was okay or that it would be alright or that he was safe. That was not something that Alex would want to hear, and since Magnus liked his head right where it was, he took the clever decision of staying silent.
At some point, however, he started to change his weight from his toes to the balls of his feet, gently pulling Alex with him in a rocking motion. It was silly, Magnus was fully aware of it, but he needed something to busy his mind with, rather than Alex's arrhythmic intakes of breath.
He cried quietly, Magnus noted, and if not for the fact that he could quite literally feel every time Alex gasped for air, he probably would have missed the fact he was sobbing altogether. Which was another thought the son of Frey tried very hard to not dwell on too much. He didn't want to ask himself why Alex learned to be so unobtrusive, even when in obvious distress. He didn't want to think about Alex curled up in the corner of a shelter or of him still living in the Fierro household, scared of even demanding that the right pronouns be used when referring to him.
It was a long while before Alex's breathing steadied. It took even longer for him to let out a deep sigh and pull back. As soon as they separated, Magnus adverted his eyes and decided to focus on the tree in the middle of the room so that he could give Alex enough privacy to collect himself.
After a few seconds, Magnus looked back to the son of Loki. In the murkiness of the room, Alex's eyes appeared almost equally as dark. He was obviously exhausted and he still looked dejected, but there was also a sense of relief washing over his features, a newfound peace that hadn't been in Alex's expression for weeks. At the very least, Magnus hoped he was not imagining it.
"I'm sorry," Alex choked out, his voice a hoarse whisper.
"Don't be. Please," Magnus tried, gesturing to take a step closer. As soon as he saw Alex flinch, however, the son of Frey made a mental note to stay put. "Listen, if you don't want to talk about it, then I won't bring it up, but if―"
"Don't tell Samirah," he hurried to cut him off.
"Alex, I don't think that Sam―"
"Whatever you do, don't you dare tell her," he insisted, a note of such raw desperation in his voice that Magnus decided not to mention the Valkyrie again.
"I won't tell anyone anything that you don't want them to know," he assured, both his hands raised to show he was harmless.
"Good," Alex nodded shakily, more for himself than for Magnus. "Good."
"Look, Alex, if you... Um... if you don't want me here, I'll take the hint and I'll leave, I promise," the son of Frey started after a few seconds, not really knowing what he wanted to say, but knowing there was something he needed to do to address the elephant in the room. "But if you ever need anything, anything, I'm telling you that―"
"Like you coming?" Alex deadpanned, not a petition or even a suggestion. His voice was low, he had barely opened his lips to get the words out, but even in that tone Magnus recognized the flatness in the question. He wasn't asking anything from him, either. On the contrary, Alex was almost being scornful, depreciating in a way that made Magnus sick. As all answer, Magnus could only purse his lips and nod.
"Yes," he finally answered, in the most genuine voice he could muster. "Like me coming or staying here, even, if that―"
"I don't need a babysitter," Alex hissed fiercely.
"No," the son of Frey agreed calmly. "You need a friend."
Alex laughed bitterly. At least, Magnus supposed that was what he attempted to do when he threw his head back to let a choked sound escape his lips.
"And you're volunteering for that?"
"Not the word I would have chosen, but if that's how you want to put it... then yes."
"And what word would you have chosen, Maggie dear, if I must know?" He questioned, with a hysterical glimmer in his eyes.
"I wouldn't have said anything because I already consider you my friend," he answered honestly.
At his words, something in Alex's expression froze. It was raw and tight and Magnus couldn't quite place it, but this time he knew for sure that there was something there and no amount of penumbras could hide the shadow in Alex's features. With a sigh, Alex took a step back, although a small portion of the tension in his shoulders melted away.
"You're so sunshiny it's ridiculous," he said at last, his words measured and flat.
"Let me do this, Alex," Magnus insisted. "You really need to get some rest, you look like shit."
"And I feel like it, too," the son of Loki muttered. Instantly, his eyebrows went up, leading Magnus to think that he had not intended to say that aloud.
Magnus decided to take Alex's mistake to his advantage and gestured to the room, like See what I'm saying? At last, Alex huffed and squared his shoulders. He didn't meet Magnus' eyes.
"Fine," he nearly spat. "I suppose you could stay."
Magnus let out the breath he'd been holding and nodded. The movement was rigid and almost mechanical, but he didn't know what else to do with himself. Rolling his eyes, Alex gestured vaguely to the bed. He then turned to look straight at Magnus and he raised an eyebrow, unimpressed.
"Oh, you mean... You mean―oh," Magnus stammered dumbly. If his face was half as red as he felt it, then Magnus could explain the change in Alex's expression, who now looked almost amused.
"Oh no, don't look at me," the son of Loki shrugged. "You were the one who had the marvelous idea of proposing stupid shit, so either you suck it up or you get outta here."
Right. Also, Magnus was very sure that Alex would have no qualms in killing him then and there if he didn't start moving. He closed his eyes for a moment and then nodded repeatedly. Alex was not making a big deal out of this proposition, so Magnus decided he shouldn't, either.
"Are you sure this is... fine?" He questioned once he's standing next to the bed. On the other side of the piece of furniture, Alex let out a groan.
"I don't know about you, beantown, but for me it is," he muttered. He stayed silent for a moment, and then scrunched his nose, as if a very disturbing thought had crossed his mind. "I do trust you. Besides, it's not as if I'm going to break or something if you so much as stare at me for too long."
Magnus knew that. He'd never thought of Alex as anything less than fierce. Hell, the very day he met her she literally winded up by cutting his head off to stop the torture her evil mother was putting him through. No, Magnus was perfectly aware that Alex was the kind of person who'd rather walk into a fight than away from it, the kind of person who preferred to speak up and get his hands dirty and actually do something.
Alex wasn't fragile, by any means, and Magnus wouldn't dare call him that. He was a fighter, and he belonged to Valhalla alright. Magnus decided against admitting to the fact that he admired Alex's quick resolution to defend what he believed in. Instead of saying anything, Magnus settled for obeying the implicit order and getting in the bed. He took a seat and leaned against the headboard, trying to stay as close to the edge of the mattress as humanly possible without falling off.
He didn't move until he felt the mattress swing under Alex's weight, and even then he only looked back at the son of Loki from his peripheral vision. Alex froze momentarily, less than a foot away from Magnus. Honestly, Magnus couldn't blame him―he was at a loss, too. Still, Alex was right. This had been his idea, so Magnus decided that he needed to take the initiative.
Alex, however, beat him to it.
"Relax, I don't bite," the son of Loki offered, crossing the final distance between them, with their shoulders almost touching now that they are both sitting.
"The first time I saw you, you were a cheetah, forgive me if I don't take your word for it," Magnus retorted.
"I mean yes, but―"
"You killed me that day."
At first, it seemed the son of Loki planned to argue Magnus' logic, but he finally shrugged.
"Fair point," he nodded. "And I'd do it again. Right now, for example."
"Yeah, but we both know I'd just be back in the morning," Magnus stated. "It's not that easy to get rid of me."
"I've noticed," Alex sighed. The gesture was half-hearted and it lacked the sharpness with which the son of Loki would usually say something like that. Again, Magnus was able to see how tired Alex really was. Postponing the inevitable wouldn't do any good to either of them.
"Try go get some rest," he said, not sure if Alex would appreciate him trying to touch him. Then again, Magnus figured that if they are going to share a bed ―and that mere thought was enough to make his face burn―, worse things could happen than one of his hands ending up on Alex's shoulder.
"I'm trying. You just won't stop talking," Alex replied in an undertone. Magnus was completely sure that the problem isn't that he was talking, but he didn't mention it.
Fully turning to face Alex, Magnus found out that the son of Loki was actually trying to get himself to sleep, as far as good intentions would take him. He'd already closed his eyes and both of his hands were neatly placed on top of his lap, his chest going up and down in gentle intakes of breath. Magnus also noted that sleeping in a sitting position wouldn't do any good for their necks.
He had the vague remembrance that such was a thing his mother would have found amusing. 'Don't stay up too late playing video games and don't sleep like that if you don't want to write a sonnet to your new contracture', she would have said. His mother was like that, she believed poetry could be found in the most bizarre of places. Like a headache. She would joke around and write poems about the silliest of things.
And she was also the kind of person who always knew the right thing to say. Unlike him.
"Put your head on my lap," he instructed, before he has time to think his words through. Alex's eyes flew open.
"Say what now?" He exclaimed, more amused than mad, which was good sign.
"That probably sounded terrible, but what I meant is that you... um... lay down," Magnus gestured, proving once again that he wasn't the most eloquent of einherjar.
"It sounded terrible," Alex nodded, still eyeing him weirdly.
"You're gonna hurt your neck if you sleep like that."
"So are you," the son of Loki pointed out simply.
"Yes, but I'm not the one who has been up all week," Magnus retorted. Instantly, Alex's features darkened. "Sorry, I―"
"You're right," Alex cut him, resigned.
"Just accept this, okay?" The son of Frey insisted. "I'll deal with my contracture in the morning and I'll get it healed right away," Alex's lips curled upward, and Magnus considered it a success that he was still alive, so he continued. "I won't make it weird, I promise."
"It has you in it and it's not weird? That's impossible," Alex deadpanned.
"Very funny. Hilarious," the son of Frey rolled his eyes, but he could feel the corners of his lips quirking upwards. He was glad to see a tiny bit of the Alex he knew back.
Neither of them said anything for a few seconds. They remained still, their eyes pinned on the other's. Finally, Magnus decided that the one thing he knew how to do was being honest.
"That's what my mother would do whenever I couldn't sleep," he admitted sheepishly.
"That and a warm glass of milk?" Alex inquired, but his voice lacked malice.
"With honey," Magnus replied right away, because he knew he couldn't joke around when it came to his mother.
Alex's eyes softened minutely. Magnus even believed he saw a gentle smile in his lips for a brief instant. It quickly melted into something different, something that resembled longing, before Alex's composed demeanor was back.
"Okay then," he said, and that settled it. With measured movements, Alex scooted closer to Magnus, rearranging the covers around them. He approached the son of Frey ever so slowly, his eyes glued to the other's until he had to turn them away.
Magnus, who had raised his arms so that Alex can make himself comfortable, began to put them back down bit by bit. He didn't know what to do with them, but he finally decided that the world had seen worse things and placed his left hand on top of Alex's head, and his right was slowly put on the son of Loki's back.
Contrary to what he expected, the other boy leaned into the touch. Ever so slowly, Magnus felt Alex relax under the tips of his fingers.
"You're like a giant heater, you know?" Alex muttered after a while.
"Is that your idea of a compliment?" The son of Frey retorted. For all answer, Alex shrugged, the movement half-hearted with his drowsiness.
In his nervous restlessness Magnus began to absentmindedly play with a wisp of Alex's hair in his fingers. As soon as he noticed, he tried to stop, but he received a grunt in response. He almost chuckled, though he took the hint and continued, twirling a lock of green hair before letting go of it and repeating the motion. Alex didn't complain, which Magnus took as a good sign. He entertained his mind with the silly realization that, curled up like that, Alex almost resembled a cat. And Magnus should know, since he'd seen him when he was actually a feline.
"If you start singing some 'Flower gleam and glow' shit, I'll kick you out," Alex warned, though it was only a murmur.
"Is that from 'Tangled'?"
"Yes, it is," he replied lazily. "I'm surprised you even recognized it."
"Everyone knows Rapunzel, c'mon," Magnus tried to defend himself. "I haven't been living under a rock."
"No, just in a pagan afterlife," Alex snorted.
"Nearly the same thing, then," the son of Frey chuckled, only to add: "Besides, she's not bad. To be a princess, I mean."
"Of course you like the girl with the super long hair," Alex muttered, and Magnus could almost hear him rolling his eyes.
"To be fair, the hair gets cut at the end of the movie."
"But it's back for the series," Alex counterattacked.
It took Magnus a moment to realize which series Alex was even talking about.
"You have to be kidding me. You're honestly telling me that you watched the animated series for a Disney movie?"
"What? I'm not allowed to enjoy a movie now?" The son of Loki inquired.
"Well, 'Tangled' is not the kind of thing I thought you'd like, honestly," Magnus admitted.
"Look at that, you learned a new thing today," Alex murmured, slightly shifting his weight on Magnus' leg.
The son of Frey rolled his eyes, but he didn't answer anything, which allowed them to fall into a comfortable peace. In fact, Magnus had started to doze off at some point and was only brought back to consciousness when Alex spoke.
"If something does happen..." he let out in an undertone.
"I'll wake you up straight away," the son of Frey replied without hesitation.
"Finally―a straight thing in my life," Alex muttered. Against himself, Magnus snorted.
"Just sleep, for goodness' sake," he said, although a minuscule smile had managed to climb to his lips.
"Magnus?" the son of Loki called after a while.
"Hm?" He muttered, trying to pull enough of his brain cells back into consciousness to have a decent conversation.
"Thank you," Alex whispered, and Magnus swore he heard his voice falter. Maybe his weariness was making him imagine things. "I do appreciate it.
"I know you do," Magnus offered genuinely. "Now sleep," he instructed, stretching out the last word. He felt Alex nod against his thigh, and they slipped into silence again.
It wasn't until he heard Alex's soft snores that Magnus allowed himself to rest his head on the headboard again. He thought maybe this would be the perfect moment to say something meaningful like they did in movies, even if Alex couldn't hear it.
Of course, he knew there was no use in empty promises about how everything would be alright, and he did not intend to go and try to do such a thing. Instead, Magnus determined he should be honest again and promise the one thing he can be certain of―he was going to be there, right next to Alex every step of the way, until he could actually start promising that things would be alright.
He didn't even dare to say it aloud. There was simply no use. He fully intended to keep that pledge and that was all that mattered.
He was not going to be a sap and say that Alex looked younger when he slept or more innocent. For starters, because the son of Loki would threaten to throttle him if he dared do such a thing. He considered that since, to his knowledge, Alex couldn't read minds, he could very well be allowed to think something along those lines, but the thing was that it wasn't true.
Alex looked the sixteen years he had and that was it. He didn't look very... different. There was a more relaxed stance to his features, clearly, and he seemed more tranquil, though that could very well be his exhaustion taking over. If he had to choose a word, Magnus would say that he looked more vulnerable.
Which, of course, was a given considering what Alex had just told him, but that was not it either. Maybe it was the fact that Alex could still allow himself to do this, even after the horrible things he'd been through, but Magnus thought that, simply, the one thing that had shaken him to his core was the simplicity with which Alex had trusted him and then agreed to have him stay in the room ―in the very same bed― Alex was sleeping in.
When he had opened his big mouth to offer staying the night, Magnus had expected Alex to throw him out―which wasn't because he hadn't meant his words, it was only that he hadn't thought Alex would agree to a meassure such as that one. And, honestly, after what had happened, Magnus wouldn't have judged Alex if he decided to send him right back to his own bedroom.
Perhaps, he considered, things would have been easier the last few weeks if Alex had just accepted his help from the beginning. Or anyone's help, for that matter. Sam would probably know what to do instead of him stuttering like an idiot, Hearth was a damn good listener. Still, Alex had chosen him to be honest with. Probably more out of Magnus' sheer stubbornness than actual willingness, but the gesture was still there, and it didn't mean less to Magnus because he had to pretty much force Alex to tell him what was going on.
Maybe Alex needed this, the painful yet certain realization that he was not alone anymore, that he could be mad and slam a door and scream and still have someone to go to at the end of the day. Honestly, Magnus knew how hard it could be to become used to the idea of relying on someone after spending too long fending for yourself. He was not going to judge Alex if he needed space now and then or time to assimilate the alien idea of 'friendship'.
When he had first met Blitz and Hearth he wouldn't even let them go near him, after all, and those two were the best thing that happened to him while he was homeless. Magnus understood.
Added to that, Alex had always been more of a lone ranger than anything else. Sure, he knew how to be a team-player, but he was rather used to working on his own, to do what he needed to do without worrying about the needs or wants of someone else. And who could blame him, after how long he'd spent depending solely on himself.
Magnus had lived on the streets for two years, and even then he had always had Hearth and Blitz to keep an eye on him, though at the time he didn't know that they were there. Still, it took him months to get used to the mere idea that he could trust people again, that that dwarf and elf were honestly concerned about his well-being. Even in his darkest times, Magnus had had the memories of his mother to run to, he could pray to his father and rest confident that Frey would answer.
Alex had none of that. When he'd been living on the streets, he'd been truly on his own. His very own father had thrown him out of his house as if he were nothing more than a disposable product, his sister had trespassed the barrier of morality with the only purpose of tearing Alex apart, Loki had literally tried to kill him. Honestly, Magnus could see why Alex had reacted the way he did.
That was why, out of all the things he could be feeling then, Magnus was thankful. Alex could have very well thrown him out of the room again. Magnus would have respected that, taken the hint and left. However, Alex had chosen to be open about what had happened and trust him. Magnus appreciated that, more than he could even dream to try to explain.
If he could ease a tiny amount of the tension in Alex's shoulders, if he could help him believe that there were people who would not treat him in the same deplorable way all the authority figures in his life had, then it would be enough for him. So, Magnus decided, even if he was positive that he was going to mess up at some point, the fact that Alex had agreed to trust him was enough. It had to be.
After all, Destiny had a bizarre way of working, and if the Norns had chosen to make their paths cross, then there had to be a reason for it. In that moment, perhaps Magnus' reason to be in Alex's life was to wake him up in a bad night, to simply be there for him.
And, quite honestly, that purpose was fine by Magnus.
Now... here we are!
Before we move on to how terrible I am, there are a few things I wanted to share with you. First of all, my original intention was to give Alex a brother instead of sister, but I then realized that whenever I have written about sexual abuse, the abuser is always a male. I've had both female and male victims, and both male and women abusers, just not sexual abusers. And, of course, I cannot claim equality like this, so I decided this was a good moment to include female sexual abusers.
Point number two: you will probably think it's insignificant, but for me it is important. You see, I usually put a lot of thought into the names of my characters. This was not Monica's case. I simply chose that name because I've always liked the sound of it and it's a relatively common name for Latino people, so I kept it. Then, out of curiosity, I decided to search for its meaning. Monica means "advisor, counselor", and I was so heartbroken with the contrast between the beautiful meaning of this name and the horrible things this woman had done that I decided to keep it.
For anyone out there wondering why in the world would I do something like this, here's the thing, I firmly believe that a piece of art, be it music, painting or literature that does not criticise the society in which it lives, is useless. That's it. I think one of the main issues with child sexual abuse is that we're so used to denying its existence in the first place because of how horrendous the mere thought of it is, that we cannot start working on how to prevent it. You cannot fight against something when you are too busy denying it exists.
Something that I really admire about Rick is how he's always been committed to showing these kind of things in his books. We have homeless children, and homophobia, and we have such diverse characters, it's amazing. But then again, he is still writing young adult literature, so he cannot be as explicit when it comes to abuse.
Alex is a character that I adore, but there are so many gaps in her background that my brain has literally not stopped asking questions since I finished those books. I feel that's part of her charm. We knew enough to affirm that she knows pain and rejection, but we do not know enough not to speculate and question. Sadly, we live in world where 40% of trans people have attempted suicide at some point, especially if they face the rejection of their family members. Sadly, we live in a world where 2 out of every 3 LGBT children have been sexually harassed at some point. And I insist, unless we start admitting these things to ourselves, we will not be able to change it.
I have to say, I started by trying to find a story with a similar theme, but I could not, for the life of me, find it. To me, it made no sense that no one else was seeing what I saw whenever I read about Alex. Like, hello, this girl's lived on the streets for at least two years, both of her parents sucked, her step-mother was terrible too, from what we gather, she's so bitter and she's so terrified of Magnus getting a glimpse of her past? Excuse me, but that sounds suspicious.
So I wrote this thing. And it hurt me, every single word hurt me, but I believe we've come to a point where we have to face the pain. It would be useless for me to try to promise that everything will be alright, because nothing will be alright unless we start actively fighting against this issue, and we won't do that until we admit that it is an issue. Let me tell you, when I write, I usually read the dialogues aloud to check if they make sense and if they're something one would say during a conversation. And I did it for Alex, and my eyes blurred with tears because getting the words out of my mouth was too hard. I cried while writing this thing, I cried while editing, I would probably cry if I read it again, but that's alright. We need to face the pain of the society we have created.
Then again, I am not that cruel. Of course Alex deserves a happy ending after all of this. Rest assured, I'm not a monster, she has people that genuinely care for her and she will be fine, I promise.
There will be a third chapter featuring Sam, because I do think that a) Sam deserves to know what's going on, b) Alex deserves to see that her family won't think differently of her because of something that was not her fault, and lastly, c) I do believe truth sets you free, and Alex deserves the chance to let go of the fear that the people she cares about will find out. I don't know when this thing will be published, but it will eventually get here, so be sure to follow.
If by any chance you are interested in reading a fluffy, happy Blitzstone, please follow me too, as I have a little story that might interest you coming soon.
Again, a huge shoutout to geminalupus, Vero and Victor because they were all wonderful to me during the creating process of this little something and I would not have managed to finish it, if not their help and support.
Stay safe and read you soon!