the world has a funny way of making us quit

Sometimes there's a void that you don't want to fill.

"Well," Taffia says, stepping back, "that's the last of it."

The spare bedroom is empty now, as bare as Alec's own, save for a plastic bin of Taffia's clothes and a smaller box of his few possessions. The chill air leaks in from outside; it's a beautiful winter morning, perfect for sitting by a window and reading. After the hellish snowstorm that swept through the city, Alec is grateful for some nice weather.

It's about the only thing he's grateful for right now.

Taffia fidgets in place, the awkward silence settling down like a thick blanket. "So," he says. "Uh, maybe I should, start, setting up maybe?" He looks at Alec for approval, as if the very task of unpacking in this bedroom is a crime.

"Do what you need to," Alec replies, staring at the bed. Something catches his eye at the foot of it; a single, forgotten feather. He stops shifting his weight and looks at it, and all the memories attached to the room and the person that used to live in it come crashing down all at once.

Taffia follows Alec's gaze and spots the feather. "Oh! Guess we missed this when we were cleaning up," he says sheepishly. "Uh, should I..." He wrings his hands. "Do you uh. Want to keep it-?"

"Throw it out."

Taffia blinks. "Oh, okay." He checks his watch. "Deejay is coming by in a couple hours. I can leave the room setup for later if you--"

"I can handle it." Alec turns and heads for the stairs. "Just... unpack."

If Taffia says something else, he doesn't hear it. He hasn't really been hearing much the last week or so; Alec feels as though his senses have been dulled. His eyesight is blurrier, his hearing is weaker. His perceptiveness has dulled. Having an angel around had improved his body in more ways than one.

If this were an RPG, Alec reflects, I just got booted back to level two.

Leon is perched on a bar stool, and his gaze flickers as Alec slides in next to him. "You look like s**t," Leon says dryly.

"Astute observation," Alec mutters. "I feel like s**t. First time I've woken up with a hangover in months." He takes a soda can sitting atop the bar and cracks it open, taking a long swig before continuing. "Taff is moving upstairs for more than protection. We didn't say it, but we both know it."

Leon puts a sympathetic hand on Alec's shoulder. His brows, thick and bushy, knit together in concern. "I did warn you about taking him in, you know," he says softly. "He always gave off the air of being a bit flighty, if you'll pardon the pun. Besides, you knew he would always prioritize his family over you."

That stings, but Alec doesn't say anything, opting instead to take another sip of his drink to compose himself before answering. "Blood is thicker than beer, I guess. Just wish I had a little more warning. Some time to prepare." His gaze wanders towards the stairwell. "I'm more worried about Taff, honestly. He's had a panic attack every single night this week because there's no more protection on the club and neither of us are good at fighting. If the Foxes catch wind that there's no more guardian angel, he'll be a sitting duck."

Leon frowns. "Is he going to leave?"

"No. Says he likes the pay here. You ask me, I think he's worried I'll do something stupid."

"You will do something stupid."

Alec chuckles. "The stupid thing was saying yes to him in the first place."

It comes out a little more bitter than he means, and Leon actually draws away for a moment, arching his eyebrows. Alec keeps going, the aluminum can starting to dent under his tightening fingers. "You were right. You've always been right. I should have listened to you. There was no way in hell he was going to stay with me. I never should have taken him at his word, because he's told me himself he's a liar and has done awful s**t. Besides, I'm literally just a nobody running a f*****g club that I don't even remember buying."

"Alec--"

"And his stupid f*****g temper!" Alec spits. "Why did he need someone else to hold him back when he went too damn far? That's nobody's f*****g job but his own. He told me he spent two years literally being so angry that he drove everyone else away. And I didn't think much of it at the time but in retrospect he really was such a f*****g--"

RRRRCK. The soda can crumples and tears under Alec's hand, tearing open his palm and fingers and spewing soda everywhere. Leon looks alarmed, but Alec doesn't even seem to notice.

"--manchild! He's such a goddamn manchild! His first reaction when Mew tried to kill me was plan to crush his skull. I didn't even get hurt. But I still had to f*****g bargain with him so he wouldn't literally murder another cognizant. I get having a temper that's hard to control, but he can't really expect that he can get away with that kind of s**t, can he?" Alec glares at the desk. "And every time I laid eyes on someone for even a second he was all over them like flies on honey, like he always had to prove he was better than me somehow. And his f*****g pride was the worst. I get not wanting to bottom like, at all, but he treated it like it was a matter of his honor rather than a sexual preference. Was his masculinity really so fragile that he couldn't stand the idea of taking it up the a*s? I can't f*****g believe--"

"Alec," Leon interrupts, grabbing his wrist. Alec pauses, realizing he's been gesturing wildly, flicking blood all over the counter. His hand is profusely bleeding. "Slow down and tell me where your first aid kit is."

"Ah," Alec says faintly. "Under the counter on the right."

Leon nods and gets up, rummaging around under the counter until he finds the box marked FIRST AID FOR DRUNK IDIOTS. "I've never seen you so worked up about a guy before," he comments, leading Alec over to the nearest sink. "I guess it does make sense, considering you were living together, but... I guess I didn't realize how close you really were to him."

"Sometimes that's not a good thing," Alec mutters, bitterness drenching his every word. "When you're close you can't see how awful someone can be, and you let them off the hook for the wildest s**t." Leon dabs peroxide onto his hand and Alec winces. "Ow--s**t."

"Get used to feeling pain again," Leon notes. "You don't have someone to take it all for you anymore."

"I know," Alec says, annoyed. "He was more than just a pain tank, Leon. He was my friend. He told me being a guardian angel was everything to him."

Leon starts bandaging. "I suppose being a brother was everything and then some."

Alec falls silent at that. Leon's a methodical worker, and soon enough Alec's hand is neatly bandaged up and pinned in place. He doesn't speak up when Leon cleans up the shards of aluminum, or when he wets a rag and wipes blood off the bar counter. Taffia comes down a bit later and shooes Leon out from behind the bar, but he doesn't meet Alec's eyes.

"Well," Leon finally says, breaking the tense quiet. "I should get going. I have some plans tonight." He pats Alec on the back. "Text me tomorrow, alright?"

"Yeah," Alec mutters. "See you, Leon."

Leon nods and goes, and it's just Taffia and Alec now. Alec stares at his bandaged hand, an ugly, unwanted reminder that everything is different now. It'll take days to heal, and it stings now, but Alec concentrates and his palm blossoms into cool, numb relief.

"Uh... Boss," Taffia says, looking worried, "if you want, I can call Deejay and cancel, and we can just have a night off."

"No," Alec says curtly, forcing himself to look up at Taffia. His eyes are shadowed with dark circles, hidden mostly behind a thick mop of hair. His ears, mostly human but pointed at the tips, twitch a little bit, betraying his own anxiety. "We'll open. We've been closed too many days. Criss coming again tonight?"

"Yeah." Taffia nods. "They'll stay with me at the bar, so you can patrol the floor. Does that sound alright?"

"Sounds fine," Alec says, waving an idle hand. "Help Deejay set up her equipment when she gets here." He gets up and heads for the staircase.

"Alec--?" Taffia sounds worried, but Alec is already gone. His feet automatically take him to his room; dull, boring, no expression of self. Like a blank slate. It suits Alec, in that way. It always has. He's acutely aware of the other bedroom a door or two down, now decorated with what little Taffia has. Slowly but surely, he knows, it will become Taffia's bedroom. Not Taffia-staying-in-his-bedroom. But for now, it's the latter, and he isn't quite sure how long that's going to last.

Alec lies on his bed, rolling onto his back, and stares at the ceiling.

"You're my guardian angel. How could I turn my back on you?"

"Lying son of a b***h," Alex grumbles to the air.

Author's Note

This is a drabble I wrote following some events in a roleplay; Alec previously had a guardian angel as a partner, whom he was growing extremely close to, who left without warning. I tried to get across the complex feelings he has about the whole affair without explicitly saying how he felt (because he's a guy caught in the throes of toxic masculinity and is very bad at articulating his own feelings). Let me know how I did!