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Nate lies a little bit, in that Alex actually gets a bunch of texts at random from gas stations and long red lights in the few hours he's on the road. He's not expecting answers to most of them, just keeping himself entertained. He's never been a fan of long drives, but fuck, if he'll do it for a job, of course he'll do it for a friend, no questions asked.

And honestly: he really is curious what the fuck is happening out there. Even if it didn't kinda sound like Alex needed -- something, be it backup or a reality check or whatever -- he might have come just for that.

Eventually, there's a solid hour of silence, followed by:
Twenty minutes out, or will be once I get back on the road. You don't want anything from the convenience store do you?

And, unfortunately, Alex didn't get to answer most of them. He was too busy trying to explain to everyone why he needed to bring someone from the outside into their secret. He couched it in terms that it was no longer just their secret. It belonged to him, now, too. It wasn't just their past. It was his. Had been for generations. And now that Noah was out of the picture, they still had to worry about his father.

It took many hours and more than a little bit of shouting, but eventually he wore them down. And that was when he finally saw the random texts and the final one saying that he was an hour out.

I never pictured you for a closet dork. I'm good to tell you everything. Assuming you believe it. I'll grab the alcohol and see you soon.

And then he was waiting for Nate, two shots of something strong pre-poured. Because it was going to be one of those nights.

Careful or I'm gonna end up kicking your ass when I get there before anyone else's.
Can't wait to hear all this.

Shot off as he's climbing back into the car with his coffee, ready for the last stretch of road. He gets lucky with the traffic, maybe pushes things a bit; it's a little sooner than he'd said when he's pulling into Alex's drive. Nate doesn't bother to send off another message, just heads straight for the door, knocking to alert him before trying the knob.

"Are we drinking already?" is his greeting when he does step inside, raising an eyebrow at the shots already sitting there and swinging his duffel bag off his shoulder.

The corner of Alex's mouth quirks up a little. Amusement and a little 'I know something you don't know'.

"You wanted to know what was going on, didn't you? I figured I'd let you know first, before we get into the bitching about the ex part of the drinking. Especially since one ties into the other."

He gestured at the drink and took the one he'd poured for himself, throwing it back quickly and relishing the burn.

"Go on. Because you're going to need it before what comes next."

He'd believed what he did only because he'd done a lot of research that all seemed to point in one direction. And he'd still only half-believed it until he'd had a chance to confront Michael about it.

He nodded at the other side of the couch. "And then come sit down and I'll tell you everything. The real truth of Roswell."

"Really talking this up, huh." Despite the wry tone, Nate's genuine curiosity is evident. He hasn't gotten a lot of information from Alex, but he's gotten enough to get the picture that there's genuinely something big going on. Weird, too, probably -- though when he pictures weird, it's nothing close to the reality of it.

He won't argue when it's what he came here for, anyway. He grabs the drink, downs it in one before taking over the other side of the couch, sinking back into the corner and stretching out a little. "All right. Shoot."

"You know the rumors about Area 51. Aliens. It's not true. Exactly. It's not a governmental conspiracy. There's no telling who knows what, but there's every chance that the President knows nothing. It's a closely held secret. Held mostly by my father and one of my brothers."

He wasn't sure what was being held in Area 51. He knew that Flint had been heading there after he'd stolen Noah's body. But with his father still trying to protect his secrets, he couldn't get into a position that would mean cleaning them all up.

"Most of the living aliens were captured that night and held captive until a couple of months ago. By my father. Michael and I infiltrated the facility and my father responded by--"

He'd been doing pretty well until then. Talking evenly and rationally. But talking about that day was hard. What he'd seen Michael go through. What he'd said to get Michael to leave with him instead of staying.

"He blew the facility up. Along with all of the people."

Nate's expression is immediately amused, waiting for the joke, but the more Alex talks, the more that fades into pure confusion. It doesn't sound like a joke. But there's no other option there that he can see, because this? This is insane.

It's not until Alex has trouble that he really starts to look a little worried, quiet for a long moment before he leans forward, reaching for the bottle and holding it up to the light. "How much of this did you have before I got here?" The aggravation and amusement that might have been there without that falter is missing now, just flat and unsure, but it's still a little much to take.

"I've got the records. I can show you. Or someone can give you a demonstration. It'd probably be Michael." Which was really the ironic thing, his ex being the one to give Nate a demonstration on aliens.

"This is no joke. It's been my family secret since my grandfather's time. I found out shortly after I got back to town. Too many things not adding up and my father keeping secret bunkers in a disused base outside town."

He leaned back heavily. "I wish I were bullshitting you, believe me. Because inside that facility that exploded? Was my ex's mother."

He'd known his father had the capacity to be cruel, but he'd never suspected him of that kind of mass murder.

The thing that's really bothering him is that Alex sounds way too sincere. Nate wouldn't be happy to have been dragged down here to be the butt of some huge joke, and he'd probably have punched him for it, but it's not like he was doing anything, either. And at least it would make sense that way. But he's not holding back a grin, he doesn't sound like he's laughing. So either he's having some kind of psychotic break, or....

Jesus, he can't believe he's entertaining that there's an or here.

He pours himself another shot instead of answering, downing it quickly before he sits back again. Fingers tapping absently against the couch cushion as he tries to sort through the information. "You know this sounds completely fucking insane, right," he points out with a little frown. "You've got records?" Maybe keep the other complicated part out of it, for the moment. And if something's actually wrong, Nate would rather give him a chance to snap out of it than parade it in front of anyone else.

Alex pulled out his laptop. He could have had Nate meet him at the bunker, but he'd felt more comfortable bringing him here. Where he could at least get drunk and not have to think about getting home.

Silently, he pulled up a series of files. Though reasonably redacted, there was enough information there about what had happened. The crash. The people who had been taken. His stomach curled. Experiments done on them.

He watched Nate's face while he read the information. And then he pulled something else out. It was in a backpack and it looks like some kind of glass. That shimmered in a way that no glass was supposed to without electronics underneath it.

"I was exploring this cabin I inherited with my former best friend. It had been his father's and he left it to me after he died. He had a key and the keychain was in this symbol. We found a hatch in the floor and we explored it, finding out that his father had an affair and Kyle had a half-sister."

That the sister was also the sister - on her mother's side - to Kyle's ex-girlfriend, well, that was just drama. And unimportant for the moment.

"After he left, I kept looking. There was a light with the same symbol cut in the shade as the one on the keychain. I destroyed the wall where the hole was and that was behind it."

Edited 2024-11-23 04:09 (UTC)

His face goes hard as he reads, and then blank, taking in the information without reacting to it. Shoving everything down to process it later. It's a very long way to go for a joke. Not exactly the kind of thing he'd expect from Alex, either. The details in the files -- it's hard to imagine coming up with that from anything other than reality.

The glass -- whatever it is -- fuck -- is probably the last straw, though, and he doesn't take his eyes off of it as he listens to the rest. Reaches out to touch it like he's hoping -- something happens. That it doesn't feel as real as it looks.

"...I really wish you sounded like you were bullshitting me." But he doesn't. And if Nate's going to believe something weird's going on... aliens feel more plausible than a lot of other things. Easier to make the jump. "Fuck, man, this is nuts."

Alex poured them both another drink. "And now you know how I got involved. On two fronts. One was my father and all the secrets he was hiding. The other was because it involved Michael." At a time when he was wondering if they were going to be able to make it. When he was thumbing his nose at his father.

And then a promise to talk and...nothing.

Which had led to his heartbreak and the threesome and finally to convincing Nate to come out.

"Honestly, I wish this weren't as messed up as it is. It gets worse, but most of the worse is behind us."

There were going to be shoes that dropped. He knew it. Like with what was going on with Maria's mom. But he was going to take the lull for what it was.

"I mean, we're talking literal aliens and government experiments. At this point, I'm surprised you're still alive, forget that it's messed up."

He winces a little as soon as he says it, giving Alex an apologetic look as he reaches out to take the drink. This is his life, after all -- Nate probably shouldn't be so flippant about how fucked up this all is.

"So, uh. Is there something specific going on you needed -- I don't know, an extra gun hand for or something?" he asks after a moment, pausing to down the next shot before going on. "Or you just wanted someone else from Earth around to marvel at how weird this is?" Because yeah, at this point, he's running through every name Alex has mentioned and wondering how many of them are actually aliens.

"I might need someone to help with my father, but that's not now. Honestly? I just wanted to talk to someone about all this that wasn't..." He waved a hand with a gesture to represent the town and everything it represented, past, present, and future.

This little family of theirs was so incredibly incestuous. Aliens, boyfriends, ex-boyfriends, love interests, best friends. Sometimes it was hard to see the trees for the forest. And it wasn't like he could get wasted and vent to his best friends. Not when one of those best friends was the one that was currently dating Michael.

"And I was serious about wanting company to get drunk with because of my ex. It's just that ex also happens to not be human."

A random flash of a smile appeared on Alex's face, dimmer than it might have been because of everything.

"Who is telekinetic. Still think you can beat him handily if push comes to shove?"

Nate hums and makes a little gesture, appears to give it actual consideration for a moment, before flashing Alex a grin. "Definitely. I know about it now, I'm pretty sure I can figure him out."

Is he? Not really -- not yet, anyway -- but he's trying to make Alex smile, because shit, it seems like he could use it.

"We'll see if it comes to that, anyway. Shit, I can't believe that all this is the less complicated half of your problems."

Alex, without batting an eye or giving away that he was going to retaliate, grabbed one of the pillows and smacked Nate in the head with it. He let out a quiet sigh as he was doing it, his shoulders relaxing a little. If Nate was okay enough to make jokes, he was handling it.

"When I end up in shit, it's always up to my neck, you know that."

He shrugged a little. "I don't know. It's been a lot. And I haven't really known for all that long. I only found out later that half of my really good friends in Roswell knew what was going on."

Which meant all of two. Plus Kyle, now that they were being friendly again. And Max and Isobel. Then there was the matter of Rosa and Alex thought he'd wait for what he'd told Nate to settle a little before he got into the whole 'ressurrection after being dead for a decade' part of things. He didn't actually want to drive Nate crazy.

"Okay, I'm sure you have questions. Shoot."

Nate's reflexes are pretty good -- he doesn't manage to totally duck the blow, but he does throw up an arm to catch it instead. It helps him relax a little bit, anyway, just breaking the tension that built up reading everything. He's going to be a little sick thinking about that later, maybe, but then again -- he's pretty good at compartmentalizing. Good at focusing on people he knows over strangers, too, and right now he's thinking more about how stressed Alex had to be over all this to want to talk to him about it this badly.

"I have so many questions I haven't even figured them out yet," he admits, holding out his glass to silently ask for another shot. He should probably slow down -- with his size, his tolerance isn't super high to begin with, and that's when he hasn't skipped meals and sleep for half a day to take a trip on the spur of the moment -- but if there's any good time to drink, it's probably when you find out aliens are real, right? "How'd you find out?"

Alex poured them both another shot. He probably should have calmed down, too. Get him drunk enough and he was likely to make mistakes. And with him home but with Nate staying over, there were only two mistakes he was likely to make. Though honestly, sleeping with Nate probably would be the better mistake than calling Michael.

"I told you about the artifact. It shut you up, so you can imagine how it must have worked on me. So I did what I do best. Research. Every time I found another lead, it went back to my father. So I confronted him. That's when I knocked him out with my crutch. When he wouldn't talk to me about what was going on. I followed him, broke into his bunker, and hacked his computer to find out everything I wanted to know."

He chuckled darkly. "And god, it was satisfying. But up until then, all I had were rumors. Nothing concrete except for that piece."

He should return it to Michael or Isabel. But he hadn't. He wasn't exactly sure why.

"Fuck, I'll bet that felt good." He could only imagine getting one up on his own father like that, but it's absolutely the kind of high he'd be riding for a while. Not that he's going to ever admit that out loud or anything. "Even if, uh, this all probably put a damper on it."

He took the shot as he considered his next question, tapping his nail against the glass, a fidgety little motion. He'd never been good at sitting still for long. Especially after having this kind of bomb dropped on him.

"So your ex is an alien. How many others do you know?"

"There's Michael. And then there's Isabel and Max. The three of them showed up together in 1997, mute and with no memories. Isabel and Max got adopted out together and Michael...didn't."

He knew enough of Michael's childhood to know that things had been bad. Very bad. And their collective childhoods were close enough that Nate should be able to infer at least the degree of horror Michael had been through, getting passed through the system.

"And a couple of months ago, we found out that Isabel's husband was a closet alien. And a serial killer. He's dead now. But I can't say I really knew him. I didn't get back to Roswell a lot after I left and Isabel and I were never really close."

He's been friends with Liz and Maria. And he'd seen Max by virtue of him always seeming to be where Liz was. But it'd been high school and there'd been cliques.

He sat dumb for a moment, apparently trying to swallow something in all that before he echoed: "Right. Married to an alien serial killer, sure."

He was just going to steal the bottle on that one, not even bothering with the glass before taking a long drink. Leveled a steady look at Alex after he lowered it again, frowning, hesitating because he didn't actually want to piss him off, but--

"Can I ask you something, honestly? If shit keeps getting bad, why the fuck are you staying here for all this? Is it just -- your friends?" It wasn't as dismissive as it might from someone else; Nate could understand, if that was the reason.

Alex shook his head a little at Nate's hesitation. It was a valid question and one Alex had asked himself any number of times. Especially after Michael had stood him up. That had made him question everything.

"It started because all roads to aliens led back to my father. And I've spent years trying to find a weakness I could use against him. But then it became something more than that when I found out that Michael was an alien." Now they weren't together and so could he honestly use Michael as a reason? "Ultimately, I guess, it's about legacy. I want my legacy, my family's legacy, to be more than mass murder. If nothing else, I want to fix everything I can about what my father and his father broke."

He wouldn't be able to bring back the people who'd died in the prison, but at least he'd be able to make it so that Michael and Max and Isabel could live without fear.

He hummed softly, turning that over in his head. "I mean, I'd say your dad deserves for his legacy to be shit, but...."

He trailed off, shrugging, leaving the rest unsaid. Alex didn't deserve that, not if he cared about it. Nate might not get all of it, but he at least saw where Alex was coming from, and that's all he wanted to know.

He took another sip from the bottle before leaning forward to set it down, leaning his elbows on his knees, thoughtful. "Well. You've got company. And I'm gonna need a day or two to think of questions, so I'll come back with a list. Anything else you wanted to get off your chest?"

Thoughts whirled as he considered all the things he could talk about. All the things he was free to talk about. And still all his thoughts came back to was Michael. And how he'd thought they'd come back to each other eventually. The one thing that adrenaline-fueled threesome had done was bring him closure. Because he could see it, now. A life without Michael. And, more importantly, Michael could see a life without him.

Alex opened his mouth to say something. To mention how heartbroken he was.

Instead, what came out was, "Here's to celebrating your early birthday."

He wasn't nearly drunk enough yet to confess what it was he was really feeling.

Nate sat quiet, waiting for the answer, but he couldn't say he was entirely surprised when that was all Alex came up with. He wasn't going to push. Not yet. How long that stayed true depended on how long he was around and how much he had to drink, but -- he could be a little bit patient, if he had to. Give Alex a chance to get his thoughts together.

"Thanks," he answered instead, pouring two more shots and grabbing one of them. Contemplated it for a moment, tilting the glass slightly before glancing over, quirking a little smile at him. "Even with your fucking crazy revelations, it's still probably in the top third, so," he added with a little shrug, before taking the drink.