way back when/where/why (c)

Sasha had always thought he'd end up as one of those guys with a deeply messed up adulthood you could track down to a deeply messed up childhood. Maybe he'd have a criminal record for breaking into the wrong man's house. Maybe he'd drive a pick-up truck and drink more beer than water. He wouldn't have been surprised if that was the way he was going to... wash up. Things had gone differently and, don't get him wrong, he was still deeply, incomprehensibly fucked, it was just a matter of how.

How the hell did he end up here?

That was too long a story for him to recount. On a good day, he got maybe half way before giving up, covering his face with a pillow and screaming into the soft void. He wanted to go home, wherever that was. It wasn't where it used to be. Sasha had walked in the direction his old home had been and found that the town ended abruptly before he got to the neighborhood. So... that was a bust. A couple of times a week he walked back to the alley where he'd woken up (or rather, popped into existence), drenched in sweat and shaking like a wet noodle, since that was his only clue left. Wishful thinking had led him to believe there might be a way to go back home, his proper home, hidden in that very spot, if he just looked hard enough. Most of the time he smoked against a wall and stared at the same brick, thinking about the people that had led him to get here.

He was there now. He was smoking his cigarette and staring at his brick. There was nothing special about it except that it was at the perfect level for his gaze to rest on. Occasionally a shadow would get cast down the alley, somebody passing by on the main street - he would notice it from the corner of his eye, but never properly look. This was routine, at this point. He was as dead-beat about it as he was about going to that damned Academy. Training for that damned ‘gift’, what had gotten him in this mess in the first place.

Sasha had nowhere to run off, so he complied, for the most part.

Shepard was lucky that day. Having met the...other version of his mother, who offered to look after Micha for him occasionally. Saved him money on childcare costs, but also left him with too much time for himself. He couldn't keep himself at the apartment, so he walked. He walked up and down the town blocks, oftentimes looping back around places where he had been. Seeing the buildings pass and reappear later as he passed them was somehow comforting.

Beer in hand, he drank his way down the street. His second time passing the alleyway was cause for pause. The first time, he recognized the person standing there as someone who had gone to his school before he graduated and before they were moved to this new world. Yet he moved on, until the second time where he paused once again. How often was it that he would come across people who also came over? The blond stopped himself and turned to face the shadowy figure leaning on the wall and staring into the distance.

They all went through something similar. Maybe they could help each other get through it? Shepard had barely met him before. "Hey, you know smoking is bad for your health. Right?"

Sasha was enjoying his quiet. He wasn't usually a fan of deep, contemplative silence, because he never had things to think about during that silence... before this.  It wasn't entirely good that now he got so lost in thought, either, but it was better than nothing. It made him feel like he was actually trying to come up with solutions, instead of resigning to a confusing, terrifying end of the line.

His quiet was broken by one of the nosier, passing shadows, that actually had the audacity to stop and say something to him. "Wha'?" he asked, without taking his eyes off that oh-so-important brick. As if he hadn't heard that one before. Sasha regarded his unwanted company with a look, finally, a look of annoyance that turned into one of hatred the moment his eyes were on the other's face. "Motherfucker." He didn't even have to think about it, the words came naturally. Sasha flicked ash from his cigarette in the guy's direction with obvious disdain. "Who said you could talk to me?"

Shepard raised a brow, and took a step forward despite the ash, he wasn't worried. "Strong language." He remarked, unbothered by the disdain sent his way in waves. "You are from the other world too, right?" He asked, crossing his arms and leaning on the furthest edge of the alleyway. Enough to give Sasha space, but enough to where he doesn't appear frightened of the other's spiky exterior. The way the guy acted and looked--a fucking cactus. A prick, more like it.

"I don't see many people from home, and I'd figure I'd reach out."