Humans Alone (G/T)

Chapter Twenty-Two

"So what would you like to know about Lucy?" Michael asked calmly, now stretched out on his back. He didn't even take up 3/4's of the couch, so Heath was able to seat at his feet while they spoke. 

"Just a few things. What she's like, what she looked like, things you would do together. I'm simply curious." Heath offered a gentle smile, his hands resting neatly in his lap. He was paying attention. Michael seemed to be in less pain on his back and when he wasn't moving, which was understandable.

A sad but fond smile cracked on Michael's busted lips, his blue eyes drifting to one of the windows across the room. "She's got long, beautiful brown hair. Just as her mother had. Blue eyes, like mine. She's sweet. Terrified of spiders, bugs in general, but she refused to kill them. She'd always have me take them and release them outside."

"We would go on long walks in the nearby park often. She loved feeding the ducks until she learned that bread could actually hurt them. Then she cried because she thought she might have killed one. When your kind came...I had her hand in mine. She was right there. The crowd was huge, sh-she got pulled right from my arms in all the panic."

Michael's voice began to crack and he had to stop talking. He kept his gaze locked on the window. "She has to be a-alive."

Heath reached a large hand out, resting it softly on Michael's leg. "I'm sure she is. And once we're done with the council, we'll find her. I promise. I'll help."

His cheeks tinted unnoticeably. Now turning his head to look at the Masonin, the human nodded and took a deep, shaky breath. "I-I'll owe you so much once this is over. Everything you've done for me, a-and you hardly even know me."

"I know you well enough to know that you're not like the humans that tortured that little girl. And to be fair, when we came and began to destroy your kind, we were no better than what we thought you were. We too were killing children. And if I could take it back I would." Heath bowed his head apologetically and again smiled at the man that was only slightly younger than him. 

Too weak to bother responding, Michael only smiled and settled further into the couch where he lay. "S-So...what about you and Donnie?"

Heath's smile faded and his cat-like eyes turned sad and distant as he recalled the fond memories he shared with his adopted son.

"Back on our own planet, I owned a small country home that I would spend a lot of time at. It wasn't much, but it was secluded. I enjoyed the quiet and listening to the birds. Though, our birds were a little different than the ones here. Yours are strange colors. Ours were vibrant teals, lime greens, pinks, and yellows. Any sort of bright color."

"Anyway, around nine years ago when I visited that little place, there was a little boy taking a nap on the floor. He was filthy, covered in bruises and dirt, scars on his arms. He'd clearly been through a lot. Turned out his biological parents weren't the kindest people to him. Which I guess would explain his own cruelty as he got older." 

Heath stood from the couch and slowly walked across the floor to the nearest window. He fell silent, his eyes stinging with tears that he was afraid to shed. Donnie might have been cruel, he may have betrayed him, and Heath may be angry, but he raised that boy. Would Michael think less of him if he admitted how much it hurt?

"H-hey, it's okay." The human's voice called quietly, and he turned to see Michael struggling to sit upright. 

In an instant he was by his side, using his hands to keep him down. "Is it really though?" He whispered, his eyes glistening in the natural light that came through the windows. 

"W-Well, no." Michael coughed quietly, using his hand to cover his mouth. "B-But what else am I-I supposed to say?"

Heath gave a soft, sad laugh and wrapped his arms around Michael. He gave him a tight hug, doing his best not to hurt him. Heath nestled his large face into his hair as tears began to flow freely down his cheeks. "M-Michael, I-I...I am so sorry for what he did to you. B-But he was my son. I took care of him f-for nine years. And all of the sudden h-he's a total stranger." 

Michael's eyes were wide in surprise at the Masonin's actions and again his blush went unnoticed, but he did his best to return the hug despite how painful moving was. "I can't imagine how it feels." 

The scent of iron again filled his nose, still, Michael kept his arms around the man's muscular torso. He ignored the tears from him he could feel dropping onto the top of his head. If he could comfort him he would. "H-Heath?" 

"Hm?" Heath responded with a wavering whimper, one of his hands grasping Michael's dirty and worn shirt. 

Opening his mouth to respond, no sound came out of Michael's mouth. He instead closed his lips again. "Nothing, never mind." 

It was a bad time to bring up anything while Heath was this upset. It was better for him to just stay silent and keep himself out of any more trouble so he could take the time he needed to recover before they had to set out for the Council again.

"It's just," there was a slight pause before he continued. "Nothing."