A Place (apparently, you guys need a ter-jerker warning for this one)

Another Bevin fic, in honor of AnimehpGurl, who heckled me into writting more. Love her. So hopefully, this will satisfy whoever happens to be looking for this sort of story... I haven't looked through the archives recently, but last time I did, it was like 90 percent fluff or Gwevin. Blah.

Even a strong person has weak moments. It's inevitable.

Kevin's mom used to tell him that, back when he was young and naive. When he still thought he could protect her from the shit lurking around their tiny one room apartment.

Sometimes he couldn't remember life before her death. Her eyes would fade out of his vision and her smile--that innocent, hopeful smile--would ripple like reflections in a shattered pond... and disintegrate into a starry night.

But then just as easily, when the sky looked too dark, and the moon looked too sickly cruel, another face would swirl into focus. The green eyes crinkled at the edges, the few untamed strands of hair brushing his forehead, and he could see his mother was still there. Even if only in the face of a teammate... friend?

The ex-con's eyes flew open in spite of his wishes. Above him, he could see the milky way and countless cloudy star patches scattered across the sky like shattered glass. His cynical side growled at them, pissed over the constant threat they offered, but his small (well hidden) romantic streak almost smiled, amazed that something so deadly could be so beautiful.

He laid, arms folded behind his head, on the roof of his car in the darkness. Gwen and Ben had never been able to pry out of him where he slept at night, try as they might. The truth was maybe a little embarrassing: he had nowhere. As a criminal, it was fairly unsafe to leave any sort of trail--even if it was simply a description of his appearance left with the local motel manager.

Besides, it wasn't like he really needed a place. He had the car, and unlike an apartment, cars can change location when you're sick of the view, or the mob comes a knockin'. He was far safer here.

And even if he weren't, Kevin Levin would never beg for housing. Kevin Levin did not ask; Kevin Levin stole.

You can't steal a house, his sarcastic voice noted.

A bit of time away from the crew was good anyways. As much as he liked them (god forbid they ever find that out), there was only so much a man could take. Maybe he was just jaded, but the two of them constantly floored him with their astounding naivety. What if the mutant decided to let them in on his, ah, 'preferences'? He almost chuckled at the thought of their reaction.

Ah, screw it, he thought, went ahead and laughed out loud. He could just imagine Gwen's barely hidden jealousy (will I have to watch out for guys too?), picture Ben's look of shock, trying to act like he wasn't surprised. Ben probably thought all bisexual guys were cross dressers with long hair and cutting scars.

"Well," he mused aloud, "I have always wanted a ponytail..."

And he'd bet a stash of alien tech that Ben also thought all gay guys had a lisp and talked non-stop about shoes for hour on boring hour. Get real, Hero-boy.

Still, there was an upside to the situation. He'd been paying attention to their reactions, you know, hey-what-do-you-think-of-this responses, and the two of them were surprisingly tolerant. Imagine, a white bread, suburban, Christian-elementary-school boy like Ben saying "Um... as long as they're happy, I guess."

That one had shocked Kevin. Not that anyone could tell.

Mmmm… Ben Tennyson. The boy was full of surprises, always had been. The teen remembered that offer, years ago, the offer he almost took. Sometimes he wished he had, wished he'd avoided those two long years in the null void. Wished he'd had a place.

He hadn't really had one since that day, eleven years ago. Any hope of a true place was lost the day his mother died bleeding on the floor, as Kevin stood helpless and furious—Knowing full well that an ambulance wouldn't respond to a call from this side of town.

Even a strong person has weak moments. It's inevitable.

Oh God, his thoughts were going in circles. Circles within circles, that fucking rubixcube that wouldn't submit.

The metal under his body was growing cold; the glass under his head had never warmed in the first place. Strange thing, but he welcomed the frigid night air wrapping itself around his chest like a favorite blanket. There was really no explanation for it, but these were the precious few times that he could feel like... like it was okay to live in the present and future and past all at once.

He'd had a boyfriend once, son of one of the Mafia's higher ups, who told him that on nights like this, there were ghosts sitting beside you. The cold was just their way of making sure you didn't feel alone. At the time, he'd scoffed and made a snide comment on what a superstitious sap he'd picked, but now it was tempting. He wanted to believe it, just this once. There was no one to see him, right?

"Yo, Mom. You there?" he started, surprised at his lack of embarrassment, "It's been a while, huh? Sorry for not getting to this sooner, but I never really thought it'd do any good."

The former criminal smiled, crossing his legs. He could hear his mother's "Never mind that, just give me the details!"

"I met this kid, two kids actually, they're okay. Two cousins, alien grandmother, smart old coot for a grandpa. Used to be, at least. I met the boy 'bout five years ago... maybe you remember that."

With a bit of chagrin, he found himself reluctant to mention his years as a thieving street rat to his mother. Not that he was much better at the moment, but at least he wasn't suckering his only friend into a life of crime nowadays.

"Anyways, him and his gran'pa tossed me into this funky dimension for a while, I don't want to go into it. It… wasn't the best time of my life." the mutant remembered his fellow exiles with distaste--despite what he learned there, the place remained, for many reasons, a focal point of his nightmares. The same way a man on parole cringes in his sleep from memories of jail.

"But I met up with them again, a while ago... made some promises... started a team. I'm a good guy now! Ain't 'choo proud of me?" he grinned, pulling his arms out from under his head--they were starting to go numb.

"But the guy, Ben's 'is name, he's throwin' me for a loop. On top of everything else, I'm tryin' not to think about it, seriously, but the boy is hot. Cousin's not bad either; tell you the truth, but she's... kinda uptown. And not in the good way. Oh, I dunno, it's all pretty damn complicated--'scuze my language--and I've never been too good at working with emotions. Must run in the family, huh?"

Kevin could here her groan, clear as crystal, muttering "Oh, please Kevie, don't bring me into this." He laughed.

"I know, I know. But what got me thinking was somethin' happened today, not what I'm used to dealin' with. The three of us, we go places together, y'know? Guess that's what it's like to have decent friends, ones who ain't tryin' to rip me off or snort alien cocaine twenty-four/seven. But anyways, we're cruisin' down the street in a pretty run down part of the city (doesn't hold a card to the old neighborhood though) when this nut job comes flying outta his house, wavin' a good old fashion hand gun and dragging this chick behind him."

In a moment of weakness, the mutant sat up and pulled his legs to his chest. Suddenly the stars looked so much further away.

"I guess when a guy spends so much time fighting scum from other planets, it's kinda jarring to see the sh… crap going on in your own back yard. It bothered me, y'know? So I pull over, jump out of the car, Ben and Gwen yellin' at me to get my butt back inside—worried or somethin'—and I come up behind the jerk, right?"

This was harder than he thought would be. Personal problems, they run deeper than a bone-bruise. The teen suppressed a yawn. Whoa, was it later than he thought?

"I grabbed him by the neck, said 'drop the gun man.' And he starts screaming at me, screaming about the girl he's still holdin' on to, yellin' about her stealin' his money. He says I better let go, or he'll shoot us both. Now, I ain't afraid of no man, 'n I figure he's gotta be bluffing. So I'm like 'Just drop it man, I ain't a cop. Let 'er go'. And…"

Deep breath. Was that a sob? No. No it wasn't. Kevin Levin doesn't sob. That's what girls do. No no nonono no.

"And then he shot her. Right under the collarbone, point blank. Mom, her eyes, they went so wide and she just choked and fell... and all I could see was you. You bleeding on the carpet, her gasping on the concrete. It was all the same. I snapped his neck right then—with human hands, flesh and blood, I just broke him. I was so mad, so fucking angry I couldn't breathe. I fell back, let go, just crumbled and I thought I was gonna hit the dirt like a marionette with chopped strings, when I feel these hands around my shoulders. Not squeezing, not restraining, just... holding."

It had been like a dream, actually, like the arms around his shoulders weren't actually arms; they were gentle winds wrapping around his body in the midst of a hurricane. The two of them had slid to the floor, whoever was holding him careful not to jar their shocked cargo.

In that moment, Kevin had felt like it took more energy than he'd spent in a lifetime just to drawn in the next breath, like each lungful was suffocating him. Completely drained, the black-haired teen leaned into the person behind him and attempted to keep conscious. The body was smaller than his, and warmer, though it showed no sign of strain from holding him up. Were they sitting? Was that asphalt under his fingertips? Was the world always this blurry?

"Kevin, are you alright?" the worried voice had asked, tightening his hold.

That was Ben's voice. He hadn't expected Ben.

"Not really," he managed to say, feeling the grip on his torso loosen.

"What was that?" demanded the hero quietly, still not letting go.

"Dunno," the mutant had answered. He felt like things were clearing up, and if anyone asked why there were tears on his face, God willing he would knock them into oblivion.

"Right." Ben did not sound convinced in the slightest. But the good news was that he didn't seem to plan on antagonizing his still out-of-sorts teammate, so they both left it alone.

They stayed like that for a minute longer, Kevin's head clearing enough for him to enjoy the position. His partner clearly didn't understand the possible implications of his situation, but damn if Kevin himself was going to ruin the moment.

Apparently that was Gwen's job.

"Um… guys?" she started, looking back at them from the bodies of the man and woman, whom she had decided to take care of on her own.

"W-what?" responded Ben, snapping out of his thoughts.

"Not to pull you away from the therapy session, but I kinda need help with these two. The man is dead as a door nail, but I might be able o save the woman, if you get over here and give me a hand." Kevin suspected that she was slightly jealous and she didn't really know why—female intuition, probably.

"Okay," said the brunet immediately, and carefully let go of his emotional wreck of a friend, making sure he could sit up without support first.

"Don't worry 'bout me, man." He'd rolled his eyes at the special attention, "I can handle myself, and I ain't some spineless loser. That chick's the one who needs your help."

The redhead and her cousin had taken care of things in the end, keeping the woman alive long enough for the ambulance to arrive. By then, Kevin had been able to stand off to one side and out of the way, safely unnoticed.

"He just sorta… Held on to me…" The mutant finished lamely, surfacing out of his memories. "I know, it doesn't sound like a big deal, but it was. You know, I always assume the worst of people, 'specially men. But there was something in that moment that really made me believe…"

He stopped, silent for a moment. The air was full of what he thought might be his mother's impatience, the wind picking up slightly.

"…You'll pro'bly think it's corny, but it made me think there was still hope for people. Like, even if the rest of the world was burning to the ground, at least I have Ben."

A cloud shifted over the pale half moon, the night darkened to the state of one all encompassing shadow. The sixteen-year old relaxed and lay back against the hood of his car.

"The kid's somethin' special, alright? I knew the minute I saw him, good five years ago, he was worth keepin'."

He knew what his mother would say; "…If it comes back, it's yours."

"Jeeze, not the old 'love it/let it go' saying. Talk about corny. But," Kevin frowned, thinking seriously, "I think today's decided it for me. You know, between Ben and Gwen… I'm thinkin', it's worth chasin' after someone you may not get, if he's someone you really want."

And as suddenly as that, the second presence was done—the ex-con couldn't feel anyone beside him. Passing out didn't sound too smart, but in that same moment, he felt like it could well happen. When had he gotten so tired?

"I don't wanna assume nothin'," Kevin yawned again, thinking that it wouldn't be so bad to just sleep here on top of the car, instead of in it, "But maybe, if I play my cards right…I can have a place after all."

A place... I'm half there anyways, why not have it all?

"G'night Mom." He yawned, and faded into a star-spangled sleep.