Hello to everyone who decided to read this! I haven't written fanfiction, or hell anything, in a very long time so go easy on me please! I just wanna get back into writing, and Michael's character was just so interesting I desperately wanted to write him. He's very complex and a bit double-sided, so I hope I can write his character as similar to the one in AHS. I also wanted to write a story as close to the original Apocalypse timeline as I could. This story will eventually have a part two taking place in Outpost 3, but this (part one) takes place way before that.

Anyways, I just wanna clarify that this story has a lot of triggering themes for some people such as drug addiction/abuse, mentions & memories of rape, mentions of animal & family death, and suicide. I really like to write about dark stuff, so... sorry? ^^; However, I promise to always put Trigger Warnings at the beginning of chapters, like this:

TW for this Chapter - Mentions of past drug addiction/abuse

There! Hope it's clear for ya, enjoy!

Chapter One

Pulling back the white curtains to observe the forecast of the day, a dainty brunette glanced toward the sky. It was sunny but some clouds chose to linger in the vast blue, taking up space wherever they could. The leaves on nearby trees signaled it was breezy as they ruffled their leaves.

"Remember to always keep moving," a voice bounced around inside Genevieve's head. "You should try to keep yourself busy and maybe even exercise. The longer you linger in your head without physical and mental stimulation, the cravings come back faster. It's hard at first but I promise that your body and mind will thank you for it."

Her therapist was right, in order to recover you need to put in the effort first. Although Genevieve wasn't experiencing any harsh cravings that day, she knew they were like clockwork. Going for a run usually kept the thoughts at bay even before they begin to show themselves. It was already four in the afternoon and Genevieve had done practically nothing all day, except for some light cleaning around the house. She took it upon herself to do most of the chore work in the two bedroom home, considering she was living off of her roommate's income.

With a sigh, Genevieve carefully placed her coffee cup on the kitchen counter. She glanced at the cat design printed on the ceramic and smiled fondly at the present her friend gifted her. It was her roommate's way of expressing gratitude toward a clean home as well as a celebration of Genevieve being clean for an entire month. Cerise knew exactly what her friend liked; coffee and cats.

Speaking of, Genevieve's cat padded up to her and rubbed it's head against her legs, making happy trills at the sight of it's owner.

"Hey, Holly-baby. I'm gonna be heading out soon so I can't pet you for too long, sweetie."

The woman bent down and graciously rubbed the animal's head before shuffling towards the door. After lacing up her running shoes, Genevieve stood and stretched, breathing deeply as she did so. Today was a perfect day for a run.

After about five minutes into her exercise, Genevieve jogged on the same exact route she usually took. She doesn't change it up often; in fact, she likes the neighborhood she resides in. The people are friendly and the houses are beautiful. If she could change one thing, it would be the tourist buses full to the brim of people interested in the one house that everybody in the area was aware of. Apparently, every person who decides to live there unfortunately meets their untimely end, save for maybe one or two previous owners. Genevieve didn't really know how much weight that rumor held and she didn't care. Sure, it was a creepy house but she passed it each time she went for a run and nothing out of the ordinary had ever happened there, as far as she could tell. Sometimes a shiver would run up her spine or she'll get the phantom notion of eyes on her, but she mostly chalked it up to the stories people like to tell. One of those people being her incredibly gossipy roommate. Sometimes people say things that stick with you and they play tricks on your mind, even if you don't truly believe in them.

Feeling a buzz in her pocket, Genevieve fished for her phone mid-run and checked the message she received.

It read: Hey buddy, got a cancel today. Be home arou-

With a sudden force so strong that it not only knocked the wind from her but also the phone from her hand, Genevieve's body was thrown to the ground. Her head was spinning and the sun was directly in her eyes, so she found it difficult to recoup and figure out what just happened.

'Was I just hit by a car?' Genevieve cupped her hand over her forehead to try and block the sun. Her eyes readjusted to the afternoon light and she looked around for any vehicle that may have caused the collision, but instead was met with a figure who loomed over her. The scent of vanilla, spice, and a hint of clove softly fell upon Genevieve's senses as the person crouched down beside her.

"Miss, a-are you okay? I didn't mean to…"

The man who she collided with had the face of a model, with curly blond locks adorning his head. His facial structure was carved so perfectly it was like the angels crafted him themselves. His bright blue eyes were puffy indicating that he had been crying previously.

"Yeah, I'm okay. Nothing but a few scratches and some bruises that I'll have to worry about tomorrow," Genevieve spoke softly as she pulled herself off the asphalt and onto her feet. The male followed in unison and handed her the phone she had almost forgotten about. The screen was slightly cracked in one corner but it wasn't a big issue to her.

"Oh, thank you… Are you okay?"

The blond diverted his eyes from her inquisitive green ones. He was dressed in jeans, a T-shirt under a jean jacket, and no shoes. Genieve turned to look around at their setting only to notice they stood on the sidewalk right in front of that damn tourist attraction. 'Did he run from this house or somewhere else…?' Her attention redirected back to the man as she heard him make somewhat of a strangled sound.

"Uh, um, it's not you… I-It's just…"

Geneieve could tell he was visibly upset by something else and not the harsh interaction that was just exchanged between them.

"Listen, I have a house that's just a block down from here," the brunette caught herself saying. She usually thinks before she speaks, but the words were coming out before Genevieve had time to process what she was saying, "I can't offer much but I have a lot of tea and snacks. Would you rather talk somewhere comfortable instead of out in public?"

The distressed blond looked at Genevieve as if she just offered him the world. He spoke softly as he teared up again, disbelief playing on his features, "That is so nice of you… Are you sure?" There was a child-like innocence in his voice.

Offering a light laugh, the woman shrugged off the comment, "Yeah, it's really no problem. I'm Genevieve Bianchi, by the way."

"I'm Michael… Langdon. It's nice to meet you."

As the two walked in silence on the walk home, Genevieve couldn't help but pick up on Michael's apprehensive energy. It isn't every day a stranger in Los Angeles offers you into their home with pure intent. Each time she looked toward him, he shifted his eyes away almost immediately. She couldn't blame him for being uncomfortable.

Once they made it to Cerise's house, the brunette unlocked the door and stepped inside, the blond treading lightly behind her.

"Welcome to my humble abode. It isn't much but houses in LA cost tons. My roommate got quite a deal on this one. Plus she's really good at what she does," Genevieve gestured to the conjoined living room, kitchen, and then the small corner table by the front window. "Here, you can sit there and wait while I brew you up some tea. My roommate said she'd be coming home soon, which funny enough is why I bumped into you… Totally my bad."

Michael quietly sat down at the kitchen table and looked over the woman's appearance. Genevieve had beach wave styled, dark brown hair just past the shoulders with a blonde layer underneath. Her height was closer to 5'10" with a thin physique. She was dressed in grey, long-sleeved sports top and black running shorts that exposed a few tattoos on her tan legs. He noticed the big art piece on her thigh was a portrait of a calico cat with a ribbon underneath displaying the name 'Holly.' Before Michael could get a good look at any of the other ones, Genevieve spoke up directing his attention back to her face.

"Here you go. Sorry for the girly mug, we don't have many options," she handed him a yellow mug with bumble bees on it and pointed to the steaming liquid inside. "It's lavender and chamomile, super calming. Also it's really hot so-"

Surprise overtook her as she watched Michael take a sip without wincing or giving any indication of how boiling the tea was. 'It was fresh off the burner…' She thought to herself, incredibly perplexed by the stranger sitting in front of her.

Michael closed his eyes and inhaled the scent of the herbal tea before turning to look at Genevieve again, "It's good… Thank you." The anxiety had faded from his aura and a more neutral expression overtook his features instead. There was a hint of curiosity mixed with distrust glinting in his irises. He wasn't sure if he should be open with her or not, considering the situation that had just gotten him swept out of the house like a misbehaved dog.

"So…" The dainty woman decided to take a seat adjacent to Michael with her own cup of tea. "I really hope I'm not pressing too much but… What happened? I mean, you don't have to tell me anything of course, I literally just met you… But I can't say I'm not mildly interested." Genevieve paused to swallow a mouthful of tea and then continued.

"...Why were you in front of that house? Do you live there?"

The blond shook his head, the mop of curls bouncing ever so slightly, "No, I lived with my grandma… She kicked me out."

Genevieve felt like she was just pricked in the heart. She was reminded of when her strict parents kicked her out for using drugs and lying. It wasn't like she made the conscious decision to begin using; in fact, Genevieve was only experienced in consuming alcohol and marijuana in the beginning. It was an abusive ex-boyfriend that pressured her to start using harder drugs and it wasn't long after that her parents found out. Once Genevieve was kicked to the curb, she was forced to move from couch to couch every week, always staying at people's houses just to keep off the streets. Genevieve would occasionally do horrific favors for those people in order to get even a wink of sleep and just enough heroin to ward off withdrawals. It was a terrible way to live.

"Oh… I'm so sorry, something kinda similar happened to me. Would you let me talk to her? I can't promise anything but if my story is enough to move her even just a bit, it's better than nothing," Genevieve questioned, looking sympathetically at Michael. She reached her hand out as a form of consolation and touched the male's hand only to watch him recoil. A flash of something unfamiliar to Genevieve flashed across his features.

"You… th-there's…" Michael couldn't finish his sentence before the front door opened.

In came a stout, black latina woman. She had long, braided, fiery red hair pulled back in a bun. Not only was she covered head to toe in tattoos, she also had multiple piercings adorning her chubby face. Her dark lipstick smile grew as she set her chocolate eyes on Genevieve.

"Hey, buddy!" Cerise exclaimed and skipped over towards her best friend. She looked inquisitively over at the stranger seated at her kitchen table, "Oh, making friends?"

A soft laugh escaped Genevieve's lips as her eyes shifted between Michael and Cerise, "Yeah, you could say that. This is Michael, on my run today we accidentally ran into each other as I was looking at your text. I should have paid more attention…" A sheepish grin creeped up on the brunette's features.

"I'd say!" The small woman laughed and turned to the blond. "Well, Gen's been meaning to go out more lately and create some sort of social circle. As much as I love havin' this chicky around, it's healthier when you have human connections to more than just one person, ya hear?"

A soft shade of pink descended on Genevieve's cheeks as she stood up, clearly embarrassed by her eager, non-filtered roommate.

"Yeah, yeah… No need to do Marie's job for her," Genevieve playfully jabbed at her friend and took both empty cups to the sink. "Anyways, I just wanted to make him a cup of tea, I should walk Michael back soon."

Cerise nodded in affirmation, "Sounds good girly, I gotta get into something more comfortable than my work jeans. I hope you know that some 'tea' needs to be spilled when you get back, hun." The redhead shot a quick wink at her roommate to which Genevieve rolled her eyes in response. The stout lady soon wandered off to her bedroom to get settled in for the rest of the afternoon.

Michael stood up, unease as clear as day on his face, as well as mild shock from what had previously happened before Cerise barged in. Genevieve could tell that he doubted her idea of trying to convince his family member to let him back in, but she saw no other option. She would hate to see another soul go through anything even remotely similar to what happened with her, because everybody deserves a home.

"We should probably head out," Genevieve sighed as she quickly rinsed the mugs out and dried her hands. Holly, the 'third roommate' of the household, soon wandered into the kitchen and halted in her tracks. Her beady, feline eyes carefully surveyed Michael. The calico arched her back and hissed once only to quickly scamper away to another room.

"Well, that was weird," Genevieve tilted her head quizzically. "Holly has never done that before… To anyone." She decided to shrug it off and lead Michael to the door, focusing instead on the possible upcoming battle with a woman way before her time.

The duo had yet another quiet walk as the sky began to prepare itself for nightfall. Golden hour was just beginning and the rays of light shimmered through the rustling leaves, enveloping everything in a warm, yellow glow. Genevieve noticed how relaxed Michael seemed to be in her presence, especially after offering him tea. On their walk to his grandmother's, she could have sworn his hand almost brushed hers a couple times, but she may have been imagining things. It wouldn't surprise her.

As they approached the Langdon house, she felt a shift in the energy around Michael. 'He must be anxious… Was it really that bad?' Genevieve thought to herself before approaching the door. She lightly rapped her knuckles on the painted wood. After a few minutes of silence, she heard a knob turn and the door opened, a chain lock separating the two women. Genevieve wasn't sure what she was feeling but she was definitely aware of the air gradually flexing around the three of them.

"What do you want?" The older woman hissed in a heavy southern accent.

"...Well, I happened to run into your grandson on my afternoon walk and I-"

"I want nothing to do with him, get lost," she bit back, getting ready to close the door.

"Wait, please!" Gevevieve pushed the door open again, straining the lock slightly. This forcefulness was unlike her but she felt a great urgency in what she needed to do. "I really want to talk with you."

Michael's grandmother pushed the door back harder and it slammed shut. Genevieve assumed her efforts were futile until she heard the chain lock slide and the door opened once again.

The woman before her sighed in exasperation, clearly exhausted. She was disheveled, wearing gardening gloves that have been thoroughly used, as well as an apron that had been freshly dirtied with mulch. Her voice changed pitch as she spoke, "Well now, I'll see if I can make you a compromise. How about we talk and leave that monstrosity outside and not in my house?"

It almost hurt Genevieve to hear the venom laced words come from Michael's grandmother although they were clearly not aimed in her direction. The slim brunette turned toward Michael and noticed the tears forming in his eyes.

"Hey, I'll be right back, okay?" She spoke reassuringly to him.

"Okay…" He whispered back as Genevieve was lead inside. Something in her gut screamed to bring the male in with her. The door shut behind them.

"Alright, let's make this quick," the woman demanded as she took off her dirtied gardening gloves. She hastily lit a cigarette and took a swig of what Genevieve could only assumed was liquor. Her stomach turned in unease.

"My name is Constance Langdon, and who might you be, dear?"

"I'm Genevieve Bianchi. I came here to-"

"I know why you came by," Constance retorted, waving a hand in the brunette's direction as she went to sit at her kitchen table. "I saw what transpired today after my grandson left the house in a fuss. The emotional type, isn't he? Just can't seem to find his place in the world… I've already had a similar conversation with another girl about one of my own before, albeit she was younger than you by a few years. Sweet, sweet Violet…" The old blonde looked upward and pondered on the nostalgic memory for a moment before continuing.

"Come and sit, Genevieve. You wanted to talk, so let's have at it."

After about twenty minutes of hearing Constance ramble instead of having a fully two-sided conversation, Genevieve feet more confused than ever. The old woman explained how Michael wasn't like everyone else, that he had very dark intentions, and Genevieve needed to be careful. The girl could tell that Constance was dancing around many subjects but she didn't pry. Constance did explain that both his father and mother are deceased due to a terrible accident that she personally did not want to recall. The blonde woman also expressed that she had been trying to steer him down the right path but she felt as if her efforts were useless. She drawled on about how she was 'born to raise the monsters' and that somehow Michael was the worst of them all. Genevieve didn't quite understand what she meant by that and chalked it up to Constance just being resentful and maybe even a bit senile.

"I don't really see how that innocent guy out there can be so bad as you make him out to be," the brunette inquired. "He's been very polite and kind to me."

That earned a laugh from Constance, "He is most definitely not innocent and you will find out in due time, girl. It's nothing but a façade. He is only polite because I raised him that way, and maybe because someone finally showed him the positive attention he so desperately needed. I can tell you aren't overbearing in nature, Genevieve, and that's exactly how he wants it. Michael likes people who don't make him upset." She took a long drag from her cigarette.

"That's why I'd like to have some sliver of hope that maybe, just maybe… throwing him out was a good thing. Otherwise he wouldn't have met you."

Anger flashed across Genevieve's facial expression for a moment before barking back, "What does that even mean? That I have to be his saving grace and tend to him? You're his grandmother, I shouldn't have to hang on to him. I barely know him. Besides, I… I have my own problems to worry about."

"Oh dear," Constance tutted and locked her eyes on the emerald ones before her. "I will take him in once more but only because I have a drop of faith that you can turn this boy around. Heaven knows it's a hard burden to carry but I am simply at the end of my rope. He is much more reeled in by you than me… So I will hang on to him, give him a bed to sleep in, feed him whenever he grows hungry, but if he acts up again…" She trails off as she stands to pour herself more liquor, Genevieve trying her best to ignore it.

"...If he's not redirected soon, I fear he will be the death of me and many others to come."

Constance is so fun to write and capture the essence of her character. Hope you liked it! Chapter Two coming soon! :D