#MiNOr ConCuSSioN is such an oxymoron and I hate it so fucking much. like i dont care how minor it was thats still brain damage.

[sugarcoatednightshade]

thinking about how Humans Are Space Orcs stories always talk about how indestructible humans are, our endurance, our ability to withstand common poisons, etc. and thats all well and good, its really fun to read, but it gets repetitive after a while because we aren't all like that.

And that got me thinking about why this trope is so common in the first place, and the conclusion I came to is actually kind of obvious if you think about it. Not everyone is allowed to go into space. This is true now, with the number of physical restrictions placed on astronauts (including height limits), but I imagine it's just as strict in some imaginary future where humans are first coming into contact with alien species. Because in that case there will definitely be military personnel alongside any possible diplomatic parties.

And I imagine that all interactions aliens have ever had up until this point have been with trained personnel. Even basic military troops conform to this standard, to some degree. So aliens meet us and they're shocked and horrified to discover that we have no obvious weaknesses, we're all either crazy smart or crazy strong (still always a little crazy, academia and war will do that to you), and not only that but we like, literally all the same height so there's no way to tell any of us apart.

And Humans Are Death Worlders stories spread throughout the galaxy. Years or decades or centuries of interspecies suspicion and hostilities preventing any alien from setting foot/claw/limb/appendage/etc. on Earth until slowly more beings are allowed to come through. And not just diplomats who keep to government buildings, but tourists. Exchange students. Temporary visitors granted permission to go wherever they please, so they go out in search of 'real terran culture' and what do they find?

Humans with innate heart defects that prevent them from drinking caffeine. Humans with chronic pain and chronic fatigue who lack the boundless endurance humans are supposedly famous for. Humans too tall or too short or too fat to be allowed into space. Humans who are so scared of the world they need to take pills just to function. Humans with IBS who can't stand spicy foods, capsaicin really is poison to them. Lactose intolerance and celiac disease, my god all the autoimmune disorders out there, humans who struggle to function because their own bodies fight them. Humans who bruise easily and take too long to heal. Humans who sustained one too many concussions and now struggle to talk and read and write. Humans who've had strokes. Humans who were born unable to talk or hear or speak, and humans who through some accident lost that ability later.

Aliens visit Earth, and do you know what they find? Humanity, in all its wholeness.

#humans are space orcs #humans in space #earth is a deathworld #earth is space australia #tagging this so that ppl can find it even though the space shit i write about always feels like its in direct opposition to all the pop tag #also my biggest pet peeve in all of writing - all writing. everywhere. not just in fanfic but books and tv and movies too - is when people #write off an injury by saying something like 'oh nothing bad just a couple of scratches some bruising and a minor concussion' like girl WHA #MiNOr ConCuSSioN is such an oxymoron and I hate it so fucking much. like i dont care how minor it was thats still brain damage. #especially when the same character does this more than once. like im sorry ms. but uh. you can no longer read. or talk eloquently. sorry #evidence: my brother has had two 'minor' concussions and now cannot read write or speak without tremendous effort. And like its totally #ruined my ability to watch action shows/movies because now i just sit there and count how many concussions there characters are getting #after a certain point it becomes totally impossible to believe that these guys are able to function. (still fun to watch tho im not a hater

[planetsam]

if you're still doing prompts, alex goes with Michael cause he wants to help after their trailer scene in the finale!

Alex isn’t sure what he intends to do when he steps towards Michael after explaining everything. Or what he’s expecting Michael to do. But whatever it is he’s expecting, that’s not what happens.

Michael doubles over, screaming through his teeth.

Alex still can’t say he’s got a handle on everything the aliens can do, but he knows enough to recognize something bad is happening. Michael grips the table white knuckled and struggles against whatever is happening. His lips part in surprise and horror as he gasps for air and before he can stop himself, Alex grasps his elbows. Michael latches on, fisting his hands in his jacket as he takes in deep breaths of air.

“I have to go. I have to go!” He says, “I have to go!” He releases Alex and scrambles for his jacket.

“Okay,” Alex says.

“Come back tomorrow. We can talk then,” he says and Alex scrambles after him.

“I’m coming with you,” he says.

“No!” Michael throws over his shoulder, but he doesn’t slow his pace. Alex jogs after him and gets to the car before he does, slamming his hand on the door before Michael can open it, “Alex I don’t have time—“

“If someone is out there attacking people you need all the help you can get.”

“He’s killed people!” Michael bellows at him.

“So have I!” Alex shouts right back, “I’m coming with you Guerin, this is just a question of whether I ride with you or follow.”

Michael grinds his teeth together as they stare at each other for a moment. Alex can see the line they’re crossing and how much Michael does not want to cross it. But all Alex can see is him going into the fight and whatever happened in the trailer repeating. He also sees the blood on Michael’s neck, which he is definitely not convinced belongs to someone else with a killer on the lose.

“It’s Noah,” He says. It takes Alex a moment to place him as Isobel’s husband, “I’m driving.”

“He knows your car,” Alex says.

“I’m driving,” Michael tells him.

He grabs something from the back of his truck and they go over to Alex’s black car. He tosses Michael his keys and they get in. He swallows when all the mirrors adjust automatically but ignores any misgivings as Michael turns the car on and pulls out onto the road. Alex finally speaks into the suffocating quiet that has engulfed the car, fueled by Michael’s nervous energy.

“What happened back there?” Alex asks, ‘with your—“ he motions to his head.

“Max, Isobel and I can sense each other, when the other is in danger,” he says, “Isobel’s in trouble.”

Alex nods. He’s got no basis for any of this but he compartmentalizes it like any good solider. He filters the information he can and the rest he shoves to another part of his mind. All things go back to the same basic question of how can he use it to accomplish the objective. How can he use what he knows to stop a serial killer and get them all safely home. It’s unexpected when Michael slams his hand against the wheel.

“I liked Noah. I thought of him as family.And he’s a fucking alien the whole time,” he says.

“Did he know?” Alex asks.

Michael shakes his head. Alex doesn’t know where he comes off with any of this. Irrationally he feels the well of anger, anger he’s been shoving down the entire time, start to bubble. Alex isn’t afraid of ugly truths. He hates not having all the information. He always thought that he was the one with the secrets in their relationship. Alex does his best to tap into the anger as the car speeds towards wherever they’re going. Michael stops the car and shuts it off, Alex gets the distinct impression it isn’t his car that makes the locks all flip.

“This is my family,” Michael says turning to him, suddenly brighter and angrier than Alex has seen in a long time, “we don’t involve people in this,” Alex bristles for the fight to come, “I don’t care what you see, what they do, Max and Iz are the only ones that matter, got it?”

Alex gives a curt nod and nothing happens.

“Yes,” He says, “Jesus, Guerin, my dad locked your mom up and my brother tried to kill both of us, you think they’re going to do something worse?”

Michael glares and the doors unlock.

It is utter and total chaos.

He comes to with stars in his eyes and blood on his cheek to see Michael and Isobel slumped against rocks and Max pulling down actual lightening from the sky. He’s in a god damn marvel movie, is the only thought in his head. Fortunately if he had to pick someone to be, Bucky Barnes is not the worst. Especially with Noah having his back turned, shouting that Max is the savior of a race and implying that Jesus was an alien. Alex takes aim and shoots to kill, putting several very fatal shots in Noah who says something about a ‘her’ and whose dead before he hits the ground. Max stares at him with lightening in his hands as Alex double checks Noah is dead and puts an extra shot in him to be certain. He doesn’t holster his weapon as Max keeps looking at him.

“Did you hear what he said?” He asks.

“Yes,” Alex says, “is he—“ Max nods.

They go back to the cave as Michael and Isobel get up, looking around. They both look alright, physically at least, but Michael’s eyes widen and he hurried over to him. Alex knows he’s bleeding from his forehead. But after everything he isn’t expecting Michael to immediately grab his chin. He jerks because while he’s good at shooting, being touched in this mode is less simple. Michael isn’t a solider though. His face falls momentarily before he takes both of Alex’s cheeks in his hands, turning his face.

“I’m fine,” Alex says.

“The hell you are,” Michael looks over, “Max.”

“I can’t walk around with a glowing handprint on my face,” Alex say.

“I can hide it in your hair,” Max offers.

“I’m okay,” he says, “we have to find whoever he was talking about.”

Michael is suddenly in his face, so close it’s a miracle Alex doesn’t get blood on him. Any thought that he’s an outside here vanishes when he sees that annoyed look Michael only seems to get when he’s doing something he particularly doesn’t like and can’t seem to do the mental gymnastics to say he deserves.  

“Stop being stubborn,” Michael says.

“Guerin I’m fine, head wounds bleed, it’s nothing.”

“That’s an oxymoron,” Michael snaps, “we got more to do and you could have a concussion. Just let him heal you.”

“Michael,” Max starts.

“Stay out of it,” Michael snaps and looks back at him.

Alex exhales sharply. Someone is out there and he knows they have to find him. He’s also aware that Michael has been pushed well past his limits and his actions are responsible. But the idea of having anyone in his head isn’t one he’s incredibly fond of. Especially not for anything as minor as a flesh wound.

“I said I’m fine,” he says, “we have someone to find.”

“Why not?”

“Why not what?”

“Why won’t you let him fix your head?” Michael picks this moment to go stubborn and fold his arms, glaring at him.

“The same reason you won’t let him fix your hand.”

The Evans twins gasp audibly and if Alex wasn’t so dead set on things being different, he would be embarrassed that they have an audience. Michael scowls at him and even though they have an audience and things to do, Alex can spare a thought for how much he’s missed that look on his face. Wanting to know Michael doesn’t mean just the big things that seem to have come one after the other. But Michael’s hand is long healed and Alex knows the headwound looks worse than it is.

“This is shallow,” he says pointing at his forehead.

“You’re still hurt.”

“I lost a leg, Guerin, this is nothing.”

Michael’s jaw drops and Alex realizes that this is the first time he’s referenced his leg without meaning to. It just slips out. Right on the heels of Michael’s hand. All his therapy has told him that one day he’ll be able to mention it without the world shifting and the most he can say it does is wobble a little. Not that that is going to stop him. He tears his gaze from Michael’s to look at the twins who immediately turn and look at other things like they aren’t all standing together in a cave with a dead body a few feet away.

“We need to find whoever Noah was talking about,” he looks at Noah, “and do something with the body,” he looks between them, “who can do what?”

“We will find whoever Noah was talking about,” isobel says, grabbing Michael, “you and Max handle the body.”

He and Max look at each other.

“Put him in his car,” he says, “we’ll stage a accident.”

They get Noah in and Max sparks something in the car that sets it ablaze. They stand there watching the body burn. There is a sick corner of himself that he knows shares his family’s ruthlessness. Their stubbornness and their dedication to finishing a job no matter the consequences. But as he stands there with Max, he realizes this depraved corner might not exclusively be a Manes family flaw. The odd thing is standing with someone as it happens, even if he doesn’t know Max all that well.

“Michael has his own reasons for not letting me fix his hand,” Max says. Alex looks at him but Max is as closed as always, “maybe you can help him.”

He gets the sense Max isn’t going to be more transparent than that. He’s learning more and more that everything on the surface is an act for the three of them, a denial of what they actually are. He’s always know that about Michael, but now he sees it more with the others. And just like that determination, he recognizes himself in it. He goes over to his car instead of answering and wipes the strip of blood from his face, disinfecting his cut and applying a butterfly bandage to close it. He grabs more ammo and turns around to see Max a lot closer than he was.

“They found her,” he says, “follow me.”

Alex takes a deep breath and when Max starts his car up, he puts his in gear and follows him into the darkness.

#michael guerin #alex manes #isobel evans #max evans #malex fic #roswell new mexico #roswell nm fanfic #malex #malex fanfic #prompts