'15 cracks in the ceiling, not an issue; not the first time dad has disappeared either, he probably went down to that lake outside town that mum loved; damp in the corner, still need to fix that; walls need a new coat or two of paint – got the weekend off, could entice the ladies to help; if that spring pings my back one more time - ; urgh, but dad is a right pain in the neck for tidying the bar before locking up, why where those glasses left out? Could have been Duckie and Alex, he's given her enough shots of that damn whiskey by now she does kinda like it; forget asking Lisa, I'll replace these shit lumpy pillows myself; Pike won't have hurt Alex, she's safe – so why didn't she meet me?; What was Lisa's reason the park won't install AC units in our apartments again?; that fridge is going to get a good kicking if it does not stop buzzing; what did Steph mean 'whatever you guys actually did or said up there has her freaking out right now and she needs time to figure it out', did I push her too far too soon? I'd meant it when I said I wasn't trying to plan out her future, just hoped to show her it could be here – with me, to hell with it I'd leave Haven if she asked me too; I swear to hell and back if that damn robin does not stop fucking singing – no wren that is not your que to join in – owl? That's it - !'
With a growl, Ryan threw off his covers and stormed to the window ripping it open, ignoring the creak of the frame and sent a yell and loud clap to the congregation outside, sending them into flight with a flurry of wings, branches snapping and leaves falling echoing in the silence behind them.
Breathing harshly through gritted teeth, he rested his head on the window frame, eyes shut tightly as the light breeze cooled his skin if not his rage. He slammed a fist against the wall, a deep groan sending him to his knees as tears leaked through to fall down his cheeks.
Something was wrong; he could feel it; the continued silence from Alex deafening.
'Fuck.'
Hissing as the second punch to the wall broke skin, he clenched and unclenched his fist forcing the stinging from his knuckles to calm his racing thoughts. He is a park ranger; he knows what fear and panic can do to a person; he understands the consequences of sleep deprivation, he's acutely aware of the impact alcohol has on brain function and he does not need his ex's condescending tone ringing in his ears 'Why do you always have to overreact to everything?'
He screamed into the floor, hands gripping his hair, his mind in overdrive.
Typhon are too big, they are a major global company, you saw the reports, they have billons in the bank – fuck they knew what they were doing to silence Mac, to silence Diane – this is not the first time they've had to do this. Who are they paying off? Shit – Pike? He would not hurt her, his daughter isn't much younger than Alex, she's safe with him – right? Shitting damn to hell! Do we even know what Typhon are actually capable of? Are they onto us? Do they know what we've been doing? Have they got to Alex?'
He cries, alone on the floor, his safe space suffocating him as he fights for each breath, his chest heaving, and it hurts.
This is not how he imagined he'd wake up today.
He'd been a ball of nerves as he'd left home making his way back to the park, hoping that even he as obtuse as Steph made him out to be hadn't misinterpreted the shy smiles and gentle teasing throughout the LARP, he thought he'd even made Alex blush at one point. ''and you…see deep into the hearts of people, but you don't let that stop you from believing in them.'' He'd groaned and hung his head in embarrassment as she'd walked back to the main road following Ethan; say something nice she'd said, wearing that I dare you grin she'd quickly learnt was his undoing when he tried to stay away from whatever it was he was about to made to do, her dark gaze bright in the afternoon light had borne through his troll mask, her look so warm and soft, looking up at him like he mattered. He couldn't have stopped the words even if he'd wanted to, even when her gaze had dropped to the floor, her shoulders folding in on herself, the adorable bite of her lip and the knowledge he'd obviously made her unsure and uncomfortable. 'Idiot.'
The LARP hadn't ended the way Steph or anyone else had hoped, Ethan had clung to Alex even after she'd managed to calm him down, he'd only let her go when his dad had arrived unasked questions on his face as his young son had thrown himself into the car ignoring everyone as Charlotte and Alex had filled his dad in. Ryan had used that distraction to try and speak to him, he'd barely been able to look the boy in the eye since the day at the ravine. He'd wanted Ethan to know he'd made the sword for him, to try and give him a sense that despite all outward appearances, there was a part of Ryan that didn't – couldn't – blame him for Gabe's death.
It hadn't taken long for the town to roll into the next event with Riley and Jed leading the residents in full force ensuring the last decorations where up, food and booze at the ready and Steph had glided her way out of her witch's haunt to pop up DJ booth with her usual ease that he'd always admired - leaving Ryan to his own devices, which depended on your point of view if that was a good thing or not.
He'd spent more than a fair share of time in his small park assigned apartment, thoughts full of Alex, his guilt for Gabe, his failure heavy when he was on his own, nothing or no one around to help drown it out. His desire soon outweighed his turmoil as it bubbled the more he got to know Alex, to spend time with her, learn how easily he could make her laugh, learn how that laugh caused butterflies in his stomach and his chest to swell when he'd picked up on the fact the adorable dimple in her cheeks only appeared around him and Steph – she truly relaxed with them, they made her feel safe.
The closer they Spring Festival had got, his embarrassment faded into the background as thoughts of Alex had regressed him full force into a teenage hormone bomb; he struggled to look at most articles of his furniture, his imagination gone wild – in part not helped by how she'd become accustomed to curling her legs up beneath her and snuggling into his side to hide her face in his chest, or breathe deeply into his neck when Steph chose a scary film, which she seemed to do most of the time. He knew how well she fit into his side, the feel of her hip when he didn't know where else to put his hand, how soft her skin was when they'd both been too drunk to think on his wandering hand; he knew how a drunk Alex was surprisingly loud – it shouldn't have come as a shock, Gabe was the same, but Alex was tiny, her drunk voice very much not. He'd learnt how his insides melted at the soft sighs she gave when she fought sleep, the way she moaned his name in annoyance as he'd put her to bed and the softness of her lips as she kissed his cheek barley aware if it was him or Steph tucking her in.
All merged with his imagination as she gripped his hard length, her soft hand firm in his as he'd helped her over the wall; those deep breaths into his neck turning into low moans as his grip on his hip moved her above him; the oomph she made as they tumbled onto the couch, far comfier than the rocks she'd landed on beside Gabe's bike; the tug on his balls firm, her palm hot against the back of his neck as he'd carried her back up the hillside to the car -
He banged his head against the wall with a deep sigh.
His vivid dreams had not – could not have prepared him for just how tight '- right' she was around him, how slick and responsive she'd been to him and what it took to make her moan and whimper his name and to know her taste -
No, he'd naively thought he could get through the whole evening ignoring the ache in his chest whenever Alex was nearby, that he'd tell himself he had misconstrued everything that day had thrown at him, and he'd most certainly ignore the pallet of yellow roses and flushed cheeks of crushes being given their own.
It had been a perfect plan, help Steph set up, surprise Alex with her debut performance, pray she didn't pay them back with a Mac repeat, get lost in her voice… he still hoped he'd get his own first rose. For a Haven native, he stood out more than any transplant could by never having been given one, not even by his teenage crush – but then it had been a lame thing to get given a rose as a teenager – or so he told himself.
He'd somehow always assumed in the cute guy gets the girl movie dream that he'd have come home with feet having barely touched the ground, anyone having come across him thinking he'd lost his mind from the ridiculous grin, and maybe, just maybe the forest would have gone full Disney on him and had the golden aura only Alex could see on full display and maybe even have had the birds singing with him to his so happy to bursting chest.
Instead, he didn't need a magic mirror to know that he looked like shit. During his recount of the night before he had decided to not count the number of beers, or the whiskey shots, he knew he'd spaced out more than once so would not have remembered them all, although what does accuracy really mean beyond the first few anyway? He didn't need to look down at his chest to see the half-moon scratches and small bruises he'd been decorated with, because despite her non-appearance, despite her silence, he'dmanaged to take her to a place where she'd had no choice but to mark him to keep her grounded. He shrugged off the male macho pride that last thought invoked and rubbed a hand round the back of his neck, laughing at how quickly thoughts of her had him feeling like a teenager, only to wince and pause – turning to look in the mirror and bark out a laugh. Now this was the way to really regress a decade.
Yup, she'd marked him alright. There was no denying that Alex had made her claim as the reddish mark had grown since he'd checked in the window of the Lantern, and it was well on its way to bruising beautifully. To be frankly honest with himself though and he was too tired and strung out to be anything but, he'd been hers' since the record store, and he'd let her mark him in any way she liked.
'Oh mirror mirror on the wall, where is the fairest in the land?'
To distract himself he settled against the wall and scanned his normally impeccably tidy room. His clothes from earlier thrown in various piles, boots kicked into the corner, pillows tossed to the floor and his duvet twisted on itself clinging to the bed. Ryan had learnt early that Jed was not one for mess, he'd had always put it down to his father's inherent mining safety that he could or wouldn't shake above ground. As he'd grown older, he had found his peace with the rule and his teenage years hadn't had many of the normal tantrum arguments between him and his parents over the state of his bedroom. Looking round the room now though, Alex would have felt very at home. A harsh chuckle forced its way passed his lips as it didn't take long for his thoughts to circle back to her.
He remembered that Gabe had worried at giving Alex his apartment, concerned that she had spent too many years living with other people in a dorm that having her own space would be too much for her. Ryan had tried to laugh off his friends worry and had reminded him of his own messiness and that if Alex had that genetic trait too, then it wouldn't take her long to make the place hers. Gabe had been insulted as Charlotte had agreed with Ryan, both laughing at his fake outraged face as they'd pointed to the mess around them.
At least Ryan had been proven right. The first evening Alex had invited him in, after he'd walked her back to the Lantern from the ravine, the calm he'd felt since she'd pulled him back from the brink kept him from running back to the cliff edge as he realised for the first time it was no longer Gabe's apartment. Upon entering the familiar space and taking stock of the surroundings, he could have done nothing else in that moment except to laugh.
She hadn't made the bed, her bag was still precariously beside the bed, clothes strewn everywhere, he didn't quite want to know why her jeans were over the banister, her guitar was in the middle of the room, notes from his dad were littered in front of her door and evidence of the fact she hadn't left the apartment in days was everywhere.
Her surprise was palpable and the tears on his face as he bent double hands-on knees had even cracked a smile from her as she waited, arms crossed for him to explain himself. She'd not even been embarrassed when he had, instead she'd simply smiled, shrugged, and moved comics off the sofa so she could sit down. He'd fought down the urge to at least make the bed. She'd let him the next time though and he had started to suspect she had been deliberately leaving it messy just to see if he would keep it up.
Sighing, Ryan eased himself to his feet, feeling unsteady as the beers on an empty stomach churned alongside his glee and anxiety. Kicking his way through his discarded clothes and the various items of bedding he'd thrown around the room he bee-lined for his phone, knowing there would be nothing new. It had been left on loud and charging, and it hadn't made a sound. He had attempted to sleep; he'd gone over his conversation with Steph, and he'd rationalised this and reframed that. His gut had not listened nor cared and then his brain had backtracked on everything and now it was 6:27am and he felt sick. He'd been home an hour.
'You've reached the voicemail for number 202 555 0191, please leave your message after the beep. Beep.'
C'mon Alex, please, just please pick up.
'You've reached the voicemail for number 202 555 0191, please leave your message after the beep. Beep.'
Fuck this.
'This is Pike, I can't come to the phone right now, leave me a message and I'll get back to you.'
The smash of breaking glass did nothing to calm him as he stormed through his apartment, forcing himself into a shower. Leaning on the tiles, thankful of the decent water pressure, he let out a sigh as the vice like grip inside his skull began to ease. 'She has just got to be sleeping. Her phoned died - forgot to put it on charge - she's turned it off - she's safe.' He closed his eyes, his mind running the journey back to the Black Lantern and up the stairs to the apartment, the door opening before he reached it, his footsteps ghostly silent, focus solely turned to the right as the bed comes further into view as he walks into the room; past the stairs to the roof, his plaid shirt and t-shirt somewhere on a step and the railing; the wall he'd pinned her against – hard – her legs wrapped around his waist as she gasped and moaned as he'd thrusted against her; a firm hand gripping his chest marking him, small fingers pulling and twisting a nipple learning how to tease him; rough hands on soft skin as he'd learnt the curve of her arse pulling her ever closer; to the bed where she'd taken charge and pulled him over her encasing her between him and the bed with trust in her eyes and desire on her lips as she groaned demands and whimpered wishes, his name a prayer in the air –
Sagging against the wall with a ragged gasp, eyes shut tightly in cooling desire and shame, his ripped his hand away, fist clenching against his thigh, knuckles stinging in the waters assault. 'What the fuck is wrong with you?! Get a fucking grip on yourself – not literally Lucan! ' He purposely hit the wall with raw knuckles as he let out a deep growl of anger at himself. He cranked the water to cold and jumped in shock, but he finds some clarity, a way out of the memories of last night letting the cold-water work through his hair, harsher than the deathly grip Alex had as he'd licked and sucked her – 'Focus Ryan, breath, in one – two – three – four – five – out five – four – three – two – one – in one – two – three – four – five – focus –'
By the time he was dressed and was inspecting the broken mirror, the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end, his fingertips numb as he struggled to bring up Steph's number, his breathing rapid.
He couldn't take much more of this.
