Shoot 004: Architects & Anarchists

"Don't you remember when you were young an' you wanted to set the world on fire? Somewhere deep down, I know you do – song lyrics again, Shae. Don't lie. You wanted to play this gig on your own terms. Alone. Now you're faced with reality: takes too much time, effort. You're impatient. Why not take a shortcut? Be Evan Wolfe's puppet? Skip that damned line?

Nope.

Never."

"I love you..."

Dust motes danced in the sliver of sunlight falling across the foot of the bed. Another hotel exactly like all the others, different because of that soft declaration. "Hey..." Lex chuckled warmly, "love you, too."

Her hand slid up on his cheek, that gentle touch as reassuring as the adoration in her gaze. "Good... this would be awkward otherwise." She scooted closer, putting her head on his bare chest – she kissed it once before turning her head to better hear his heart beat. She could feel it speeding up.

"Oh. Forgot to tell you...put in an offer on that house." His hands came up and stroked her hair. "Likely find out today if they took it. Gonna list the farm once we know for sure."

She smiled, kissing his chest softly. "I hope they do," she purred, nestling in closer. "I love feeling your touch. Soft, protective, loving. I.... found a keeper in you, Lex Collins."

"Hold you to that," he murmured. "Don't mind bein' kept when it feels good like this. When...when you make me feel like I matter."

"Of course you matter, baby. You mean the world to me – why would you think that?"

"Spent most of my life feelin' that way. Like my only purpose was to be this outlet for other people's shit emotions. Clay's punchin' bag. Hannah's glorified voodoo doll. Claire's salve. That's who I am – that's what I do best… naturally an' it's like the world likes to knock me down when I get too settled, start plantin' my feet too much." He met her gaze, the words matter-of-fact despite his sad eyes. "It's not...I accepted it. I was fine with it. Better me'n someone else – least I could take it."

Her eyes welled up with tears. "I'm here if you," she hesitated, "wanna talk about it. Let it all out.... if you want." She ran her hand along his cheek gently, watching him shiver in the wake.

Don't do it. Keep the lids on tight.

The voice in his head was insistent, the serpentine hiss of the damned paranoia – fucking Wolfe – it was too easy to blame the turning of the screw rather than his own flaws. The laundry list of excuses started spooling out, waiting to roll off his tongue. Instead he swallowed hard, trying to dissuade her before the dam broke.

"Talkin' only does so much, y'know?" His voice came out hollow, "no matter what I say, no matter where I start an' where I leave off, the scars'll still be there. Some're still tender." He fell silent, waiting to see the disconnect as she pulled away. She didn't and that loosened his tongue more than exhaustion or liquid courage ever could. She looked at him, not through. "Jana… I…" he closed his eyes, letting the words spill out like vomit, "I don't feel like that anymore. Not all the time, anyways. When Claire left, I..." he swallowed hard, "I spent months pretending it was still okay, told myself she'd come back like I wasn't easy to leave. Like maybe I hadn't upset the natural order by reachin' for something bigger'n I was allowed to."

She softly kissed his cheek, whispering, "you're not easy to leave. Not… at... all." She ran her fingers over his shoulder, tracing the scales of the dragon's tail tattooed there. "I'm not gonna press you into doing anything you don't wanna. As much as you're not Kaden, I'm not Claire." She turned his head towards her lips. "And I'm not leaving, either." She kissed him tenderly.

"I know that. I didn't mean..." he sighed, "it's taken me a long time to crawl outta MY hole. I guess that's the easiest way to put it. I was still busted when I met her, still damaged. Thought I was finally getting better but... goddamn, it's been a year an' now I can see it clearly. I chose Olympus because it was twisted up – dangerous – wanted it to break me down. I wanted it to chew me up and spit me out because after I lost that damned belt I assigned so much to..." he fell silent, bitterness in his voice, "I wanted to go out with a bang. Like maybe if it was spectacular and memorable I'd be somebody, even if just a footnote – cautionary tale, y'know? 'Don't try this at home' kinda shit."

Her fingers interlaced with his, her eyes locked on him as he spoke – a smile growing at the passion he had bottled up, feeling that frustration as he vented it. "You were somebody. You are somebody, you will be somebody. Always. Especially to me." She squeezed his hand, "you don't need a title to prove anything. You're my champion."

You cannot throw that match. She'll never forgive you. That's what she's saying. Pick up what she isn't putting down.

He stared at her for the longest time, unblinking. "I know you didn't sign on for this crazy ride. I just…" Lex muttered, "sometimes need someone blow out the match when I'm done settin' the world on fire 'cause I don't gotta burn in the process. My own destruction's not…" he bit his lip, "don't gotta take on the role now that my abuser's gone." He sniffed, averting his eyes, "should rebuild. Allowed to."

She cradled his cheek, smiling, "I'll take a one-way ticket to anywhere… with you." A single tear squeezed out between his lashes; she leaned in to kiss it away. "You and me versus the world, Lex. Just you... and me."