"Clarke, you can't just turn your back on your family," Alexandra protested. Clarke sighed.
"I didn't. I just... left before things got really bad." He didn't look up at her.
They were in his bedroom, in his second floor apartment, right above hers. He sat on the bed, and she stood next to him, close enough to touch, if she or he wanted it.
"You don't believe that any more than I do." She ran her right hand through his shoulder-length wavy blond hair, tugging it gently so he'd have to look up. "How long has it been since you've been there?"
His eyes dodged from hers. "Three years." He didn't even have to think. She let him go and paced across the room.
"Good grief! You let it go long enough."
"Alex, don't start, please?"
She turned; he'd stood and was glaring at her. "Too late," she said, and knocked him back onto the bed. Before he could sit up, she straddled his ribs, pinning his arms down. "My mother would about go nuts if I didn't talk to her for three years. We aren't even that close. We talk maybe once a month. Your parents must be worried sick."
"Not any more." He could turn the tables on her; he was bigger than she and he'd done it enough in play, but this wasn't exactly play, and she could see that something of what she was saying was getting through. Especially when he still refused to meet her eyes.
"Why not? It doesn't just go away." She wished he'd tell her what it was that bothered him so much about going home. She glanced at the clock and sighed. "I have to go or I'll be late." She brushed a kiss across his lips and rolled off him, straightened her clothes, and walked to the door. "Clarke, please at least think about it?" She turned to look at him.
He sat up, leaned his elbows on his knees, and stared at the floor. "I'll think about it." He sounded tired for only 20.
Alex walked back over to him and touched his shoulder, her hand twisting in his hair. She loved the feel of it. "You are so unhappy, and you can't even see it," she said softly. "I don't like to see you like this."
He looked up at her. "It only happens once a year," he said. "It'll go away again."
She heard the lie in his voice, saw the misery in his brown eyes. "Still, think about it, okay?" He nodded, and she let herself out.
As the door closed behind her, Clarke buried his face in his hands and took a deep breath. It was shaky. He struggled for control, finally getting a fingernail's grip on it, and straightened. His hands fell into his lap and his eyes opened to see the family picture that sat next to his bed. The grasp of control he had vanished, and he sobbed into his hands, brokenhearted.
When the storm passed, he moved into the bathroom and stared at himself in the mirror after washing his face. He didn't look like someone who tried to kill children. The thought made him look away, and he began randomly gathering things to take home. He didn't realize he was packing until he had the suitcase out. He stared at it, then picked up the phone and dialed automatically.
"Hello, Alexa? I'm getting tickets for Tulsa and back. Do I get one or two?"
"What's in Tulsa?" she asked, marginally confused.
"Home."
Alex stared straight ahead of her, her mind racing. "Two. Let me find out if I'm going AWOL or if I can get it off. When?" She hadn't even known he was from Tulsa.
"Now. Tomorrow morning. I don't know. As soon as I can."
He didn't sound coherent, but Alex didn't care. "Tell me when and I'll be there." She chuckled suddenly, feeling that if she didn't, she'd cry. "I'd like some time to pack."
"Yes. Tomorrow morning, then."
"How long?"
"Ummm... Two weeks. At least. I know you have to come back, and so do I, but for that long at least."
"Why do you have to come back?"
"My stuff is here."
"Okay." She'd argue that with him later, after he'd seen his family, when he was a little more coherent. "Tomorrow morning, for two weeks. Tomorrow is Christmas Eve," she said suddenly.
"Yes. Is that bad?"
"No. I will call you back... Or rather, you call me and tell me when we're leaving."
"Okay. Bye." He hung up abruptly and dialed the first airline he came across, and made a reservation for two, first class, for two weeks. When he hung up, he hoped Alex wouldn't loose her job over this. That did not stop him from calling her; he was going to need all the support he could get.
Alex was holding her breath when he called, too scared to move or even think, afraid she'd start to cry if she did. He was finally doing something. The ringing of the phone made her jump, and she snatched it. "Hello?"
"Hi. Tomorrow morning, 8:00. We'll get into Oklahoma City about 3:00 due to a layover in LA, and we can either grab one of those bargain flight things or rent a car. We'll have to rent one, anyway." He sounded hurried.
"Okay. Are you all right?"
"I will be. I'll be at your door at 6:00?"
"Sure. Will that be enough time?"
"Yeah."
Her phone buzzed. "I have to go. See you tomorrow."
Clarke hung up and clenched his trembling hands together. He didn't know how he was going to handle this. He hadn't heard anything about his family in a year and a half. Now he found he could hardly wait.
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