ataraxionlogs | Nervous Breakdown [Open]

CHARACTERS: Alex Summers [CR AU] and Open
LOCATION: Wandering the Halls
WARNINGS: PG-13. Will update if things change
SUMMARY: Alex is paranoid and worried about seeing ghosts. He is jumpy, and isn't in that great of control over his powers. Derek Hale will for sure be meeting up with him, but feel free to post your own encounter if you like!

Alex should never should have put on the mask the second time. He should have resisted, he should have listened to the small voice in the back of his head, telling him to get away from it. To lock it away, and never look at it again. But Alex, as usual, had been weak, and put it on, anyways...and had seen his sister and Darwin, burning, charred, looking at him with accusing eyes.

It was only for a few moments, but it was enough to bring nightmares back to make him think that even without the mask on, he might see them, again. He felt out of control, jumpy, shooting off plasma in the darkness. It was a danger--to himself and others, but he was trying his best to regain that control, to not let other people notice.

So he was going to go on patrol again, wander again, and act like nothing was wrong. It was what he did best; even with the monsters perhaps lurking around the corners, he'd pretend he could beat them. It was the only way he could function, now.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Alex would swear later to Derek that he saw something down that hallway. Not Derek, of course (werewolf form or no), but something else. The man who kidnapped his foster sister, the one who started all of this, the one who caused such anger in Alex that it activated his powers, and he destroyed everything he cared about in a single blast.

As it was, when he thought he saw the man, Alex sent a blast of plasma shooting down the corridor by instinct.

Sorry, Derek.

This is Derek's life. Go for a walk? Get blasted through a wall. In a way, it's almost comforting. Familiar. Bad things happen to Derek Hale. At least this is something less devastating than Kate Argent's appearance.

It hits like a sledgehammmer, like a truck, all fire and agony and Derek might have screamed, he doesn't know. What he does know is that his flesh is seared and ripped and his entire body has more or less gone into shock and he has to lie very still and curl into the fetal position to try to ride out the pain until it heals.

Just a day in the life, really.

The minute he heard the scream, Alex realized his mistake, and the shot of guilt slammed through him hard. "Shit!" Running fast, he followed his trail of destruction, sliding to his knees next to Derek. "I'm--Derek--" There was blood, and the smell of burned flesh, and Alex tried to ignore the sting of tears at his eyes, at the self loathing that bubbled up with him. "Derek, I'm sorry--I--you looked like someone else."

But that wasn't a good excuse, was it? Even if he could heal, it was a pathetic excuse, and he was pretty damn sure Derek wouldn't want to go near him ever again. He tried to find a place of non-burn, to touch gently.

This is fitting on some level. It's probably fucked that this is Derek's first thought, that he immediately thinks, well, this is what I deserve, because the smell of burning flesh and the agony of it, that's all what his family felt and that was all what Derek deserved, wasn't it? He should feel what they felt, because it had been Derek's fault it had happened at all.

It takes a moment for his body to recover enough to even start the healing process, burnt skin knitting back together. There's a fluttering of fingers and Derek grunts. He has a mouthful of teeth, a gurgling in his throat that could possibly be a snarl except he can't get a handle on himself to even come close to being threatening.

"Don't--"

Don't touch me is what he means to say, because even like this Derek wants to roll away from it. But he's having a hard enough time breathing past the agony, choking on the smell of charred flesh. But if this comes off as don't apologize that's just as well. This wasn't something Alex should feel guilty about, not when Derek deserved it.

While Derek struggled with his own self-loathing, Alex had his own--he deserved to be the one burning, the one in pain. But the curse of having the power was that he could never be harmed by it. Breath hitching, he stayed close, not touching, his hands gripping hard at his thighs, knuckles turning white as he forced himself to stay still, to hold vigil over this werewolf that he harmed.

"Derek--"

The name hung in the air, unsure what else to say, his filled with pain, guilt. Yet again, his powers caused harm, and hurt those that never deserved it.

Even through the haze of pain, Derek can recognize what lurks in Alex's tone. He knows because he's heard it in his own voice, because he's already intimately acquainted already.

"It's not..."

Comfort isn't something Derek's good at. There's a pause as he wrestles himself into something less agonized, as he forces himself to uncurl. Newly healed flesh screams at the movement, but it's necessary. It has to happen.

"It'll be fine"

No it wouldn't be.

But voicing that probably wasn't a great idea, and wouldn't really change the situation at hand. He still watched over the werewolf, not moving...but finally let out a little snort.

"I'd say I'd get you a drink after this, but since you can't get drunk, doesn't actually count, I guess."

Nervous Breakdown [Open]

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject