Alex Manes (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
unendurable) wrote2019-10-13 06:25 pm
unendurable) wrote2019-10-13 06:25 pm
Runaways - the night that it happens
Alex only stood there long enough to watch Jesse walk back to the house, arrogant and smug, knowing he's just crippled a man for stopping him from killing his own son. Then he hurried to the back of the house, scurried up the back way he did to his room so often hiding from his father, and did the only thing he could think of.
He shoves everything he can into a duffle bag, gathered up it and his guitar, and heads out until he can find Michael and his truck.
In the darkness of the parking lot, he can see Michael half curled over his hand, wrapped in a rag and cradled to his chest. He's drinking something, likely from a stolen bottle, and he can't blame him. He's thought about this, not sure if they can go to a doctor, knowing Jesse would get them arrested for making the accusation, and then he'd have Alex back under his roof and he knows what would happen then. He would die.
They had to go.
Slinging his bag and guitar into the back of the truck, he came around to open the driver's side door, figuring the way that Michael is chugging means he definitely can't drive.
"Scoot over," he says, looking at Michael with such fear and pain, worrying he's going to order him to leave, to hate him for what Jesse did. "We have to go before he realizes I left."
He shoves everything he can into a duffle bag, gathered up it and his guitar, and heads out until he can find Michael and his truck.
In the darkness of the parking lot, he can see Michael half curled over his hand, wrapped in a rag and cradled to his chest. He's drinking something, likely from a stolen bottle, and he can't blame him. He's thought about this, not sure if they can go to a doctor, knowing Jesse would get them arrested for making the accusation, and then he'd have Alex back under his roof and he knows what would happen then. He would die.
They had to go.
Slinging his bag and guitar into the back of the truck, he came around to open the driver's side door, figuring the way that Michael is chugging means he definitely can't drive.
"Scoot over," he says, looking at Michael with such fear and pain, worrying he's going to order him to leave, to hate him for what Jesse did. "We have to go before he realizes I left."