See emerald_skies. See emerald_skies procrastinate. Procrastinate, emerald_skies, procrastinate!

[emerald_skies]

1) Sign #527 that I'm a raging medicine nerd: I actually yelled at 3rd Rock From The Sun for mixing up supine (lying on your back) and prone (lying on your stomach). I'm willing to concede the difference between an embolism and an edema (I'm looking at you, House M.D.) as me splitting hairs, but supine vs. prone isn't THAT hard to fact check.

...or I'm still just a major nerd. MOVING ON.


2) Dear upstairs neighbors,

When your shitty techno is loud enough that I can still hear the bass even with my (incredibly loud) headphones on, it might be time to consider toning it down a notch. I'm all for loud music, don't get me wrong, but good God show some sense, or at least basic survival instincts.

Just sayin',
emerald_skies


3) A little ASkars action





Ooooh-wee....


God, he cleans up so nicely.

4) And, in the spirit of saving the best for last, I come bearing a magic trick. Have any of you ever seen a fic rise from the dead? Well, first a little flick of the "magical" gasoline...



And presto! You have now :D Anyone remember this?

Title: Picking Up The Pieces (Part 9)
Author: emerald_skies
Summary: In which the boys argue, and Alex sees an entirely unexpected side of Stark. Some things just have to be said, but don't worry, it's not for nothing.
Author's Note: Special thanks to pjvilar for helping to give this part some direction, and to all those who patiently listened to me whine and let me bounce ideas off them. Thanks, y'all <3



Part 8

When Stark gets back, he finds Alex nursing a cup of coffee in the kitchen. Which, Stark muses, is unusual, given that this involves Alex being up and about when the sun is still up. He also seems a little bit more animated than usual. Huh, Stark thinks, he must be having a good day.

"Hey there, stranger," Stark claps Alex cheerfully on the shoulder and then sits down opposite him, "I was starting to forget what you look like."

Alex shrugs lightly, "Some days are tougher than others. So far, today has been an 'others' sort of day." He takes a sip of coffee, sets the mug down, and then fixes Stark with a look that Stark doesn't know how to interpret. "You seem to be in a better mood. I take it lunch with PJ went well?"

"About as well as can be expected, considering it's PJ," Stark replies with a light shrug similar to Alex's. "He did really help me clear some things up about you."

Far from the usual mostly non-committal response Stark was expecting to this information, Alex's face goes from looking confused, to slightly alarmed, and finally to pissed off. "What the fuck were you doing talking to PJ about me? I never pegged you as the type to talk about people behind their backs."

"Talk about--" Stark frowns a little, feeling suddenly defensive and more than a little confused himself, "Alex, what the fuck? We weren't gossiping or something, I was looking for advice on how I could best help you out."

"Oh, well, I don't know," Alex retorts with biting sarcasm, "you could have possibly asked me about that first. Fuck, I bet all the guys know now."

Instead of firing back a retort of his own, Stark finds himself at a total loss for words. All the frustration about the situation in general, his attraction to Alex, and how lost and fucking scared Stark feels about this finally make something in him snap. "Are you fucking kidding me?" he finally asks quietly. When Alex opens his mouth to answer, Stark stands up and interrupts him anyway, his voice rising in volume totally out of his control as everything he's been bottling up finally surfaces.

"First of all, Alex, the guys probably all got a clue something was up when they saw your picture on the goddamn national news within the last couple of months. Second of all, the only way you could have made it clearer that you didn't want to talk is if you'd nailed a big 'do not disturb' sign to the bedroom door! What the fuck was I supposed to do? I'm not omnipotent, I'm certainly not perfect, and, in this case, I'm constantly scared to death that I'm going to do something to fuck this up worse for you! I want to help and I'll do virtually anything you ask me to to that end, but I can't do it on my own and you weren't exactly helping so I asked for advice. I've basically been flying blind and I'm sorry that that scared the shit out of me enough that I tried to get some help from someone who's better than I am with fucked up situations. I'm sorry, okay?! I screwed up!"

It's when he stops to take a deep breath that Stark finally notices that he was pretty much yelling. Shit. "I know I'm not great at this heavy emotional stuff," he adds at a much quieter volume, noting with some surprise that he's slightly hoarse now. Stark sits back down heavily in his chair and leans his head into his hands -- he suddenly feels...drained. Relieved, also, but mostly drained, like he just ran a marathon or something. "I was just trying to help and Christ, I'm sorry I yelled at you, I can usually control myself better than that." Stark looks up from his hands to see Alex staring at him in surprise. "What?"

"I don't think I've ever seen you lose your shit like that in the two or so years I've known you. I'm sort of impressed, actually." One side of Alex's mouth quirks into a feeble smile, "I'm not sure if I should feel honored or sad that I was responsible for it."

Stark answers that with a flat, distinctly unamused look. "I'm glad you found me blowing a gasket so entertaining."

"I didn't mean it like that, but, really, what the fuck was I supposed to say?"

Much to his own frustration, Stark's not entirely sure; some irrational part of his mind was expecting Alex to just get it like he always used to. Stark knows full well that people change (especially in these sort of situations), but he can't help wistfully hoping that the almost-mind-meld they used to have isn't gone for good. "Your guess is as good as mine, Alex," he finally says, letting out a heavy sigh.

Out of habit, Stark glances at his watch and, when he notices the time, promptly scrambles to his feet -- tonight's rehearsal is one he can not afford to miss. "Damn it," he mutters under his breath as he half-jogs out of the kitchen and into the living room.

Alex follows him out. "What is it?"

"Rehearsal," Stark answers quickly while he shrugs on his coat.

"Wait--"

"I can't, Alex," Stark cuts Alex off, "I can't even be late for this one. I'll be back in a couple of hours, I'll explain then."

Alex quietly says, "Okay," after a short pause, then turns and heads off to Stark's bedroom. Stark feels something in his chest tug painfully at the sight of Alex's slumped shoulders and slightly bowed head. It's enough that Stark takes a step as if to follow him, but stops, shakes his head to clear it, and turns to walk out the door. Sometimes, Stark muses wearily on his way down the stairs, I really hate my life.

-------

The frustration from earlier winds up helping Stark a great deal in rehearsal -- the director says that he should keep doing whatever generated it in the first place -- but, by the end, guilt starts to get the better of the frustration. I shouldn't have yelled, I shouldn't have left, and a whole host of other "shouldn't"s keep flashing through his mind until they almost feel like a palpable weight on his shoulders. However, the director unknowingly stops that completely when he concludes rehearsal by handing out everyone's "friends and family" tickets for the show's premiere tomorrow night. It gives Stark such a perfect idea for how to make it up to Alex that he makes it home in record time.

Stark finds his bedroom door wide open (for once), and Alex is even awake -- he's sitting on the edge of the bed and staring at the floor like it holds the meaning of life, but awake is awake. Stark stands in the doorway and just looks at him for a minute; even though it hasn't been that long since Stark found him, Alex looks better. His sunburn has almost totally healed, his face looks less drawn and exhausted, and it almost looks like he's putting some of his old weight back on. If only the inside matched the outside, Stark thinks to himself. The outside that, Stark notices with pleasant surprise, just happens to be wearing Stark's favorite Green Day shirt.

Oh stop that, you big idiot, Stark chides himself before that train of thought gets too far ahead of itself. It was probably just the first thing he grabbed out of the clean laundry. So it obviously doesn't matter how really fucking good he looks in it. He clears his throat quickly, sits down on the bed next to Alex, and nudges Alex's knee with his own. "Hey."

"Hey yourself," Alex answers without looking up.

After a pause that stretches on long enough to almost be awkward, Stark lets out a slightly nervous chuckle and says, "So, here's the thing. There's a reason I virtually never lose my temper at people; I hate it, and I hate the bad feelings it leaves behind. If it makes me feel like shit for at least the rest of the day, I can't imagine how you must be feeling right now. Well," Stark adds, "On top of everything else, obviously."

"Don't worry about it, I deserved it."

"Oh, I'm not arguing that," -- this makes Alex raise his head to look directly at Stark -- "You just didn't deserve the yelling. A lecture? Definitely. A guilt trip that would have done my mother proud?" Stark smiles slightly, "Possibly. You were being a jerk but I don't think I was acting much better, which is why," he says as he reaches into his pocket for the premiere ticket, "I wanted to give you a peace offering."

Alex raises both eyebrows expectantly which, of course, is when a serious (and obvious) problem with this idea occurs to Stark. Crap. Stark takes the ticket out of his pocket anyway, holding it with both hands for a moment while he regroups, then tries pitching his idea from a different tack than originally planned.

"I was thinking you might be a little sick of being cooped up in my apartment all the time and that a change of scenery might do you some good, but it just occurred to me that going out is probably the last thing you want to do right now -- which I totally get," Stark winces at his own babbling, but continues stubbornly on anyway, "Anyway, tomorrow night is the premiere of American Idiot and I'm..." Stark sighs heavily, "I'm a lot more nervous about it than I thought I would be, so I figured that, in addition to getting you out of the apartment for a little while, having you in the crowd would sort of help me out. And by 'sort of'," Stark lowers his gaze back to his hands when he feels a flush creeping up his face, "I mean it would help me out a lot. Y'know, if you're up for it."

Another pause stretches out between the two of them. But, just as it's getting long enough that Stark actually considers praying for the floor to just open up and swallow him on the spot, Alex slowly takes the ticket from Stark's hands. Stark looks up in surprise to find Alex just looking at him, his expression thoughtful.

Finally, Alex's mouth pulls into something close to a smile. "I'd like that," he says quietly.

Stark can feel a warm, genuine smile forming. "Great." I probably looked like a moron this whole time, but at least it paid off.

Alex frowns a little, "I'd need something to wear though, I think jeans and a T-shirt would be a little underdressed, even for a show as seemingly unconventional as American Idiot."

"Alex, if that's the biggest problem you have with this whole thing, then I'd be happy to take care of it. Just give me your dress shirt, pants, and dress shoe sizes, I'll swing by Joseph A. Bank's before I have to show up tomorrow."

"You're sure this isn't too much trouble?"

"I wouldn't have offered if it was. Besides," Stark nudges Alex's leg with his own again, "You're worth it."

"Fair enough."


[to be continued...]



Side note: I went back and cleaned up the HTML in the previous chapters (linked them to each other, put in summaries, etc. etc.), so it should be easier to go back and reread now for anyone who wishes to do so.

Five months has to be some kind of record in terms of fic comas, but hey, at least I fixed it! Stay tuned for more vampire AU at some point soon, plus some other goodies I have in mind. In the mean time, adorkable dancing!Theo thanks you for your time:



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"He that hopes no good fears no ill..." -- Thomas Fuller

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Cheers.

P.S. - Also, have one of the most adorable Stark interviews I've ever read. It's really old, but good God, it's worth it *_______*

P.P.S. - Oh Yellowcard, I don't care if liking you serves as conclusive proof that I'm stuck in 2004, this is just beautiful. My inner fifteen year old is pleased to see y'all back on the music scene again <3