(BL)Alpha Made

The ding of the elevator arriving stirred Andrew slightly from his trance.

He raised his head from where he had been staring at the ground. He was still in his winter coat. Andrew looked as if he was leaving for the day instead of arriving. He hadn’t even dropped off his jacket, gotten ready, nothing. Andrew stepped out of the elevator, his gaze already searching around the lobby to see if he could find Ford.

He wasn’t hard to spot. Ford was hovering around the front desk, anxiety in every inch of his face. His grey eyes looked terrified, his hair a mess. He was wearing the outfit he normally wore when he was working on plants. Over the years Andrew had referred to it as his hobby outfit, since he looked more like an explorer then someone who was working on his hobby, but who was he to judge?

It was a long sleeve shirt, usually black that had a vest layered overtop. The vest was covered in pockets. Andrew knew for a fact that the one nearest to his heart normally had a few snacks in it, while everything else was full of things he’d need. Twine, scissors, sticks, etc. Ford usually wore shorts, but it was clear he’d pulled on pants before he rushed out of the house.

Andrew’s face turned up into a tense smile, his expression tight as he locked onto Ford’s gaze. Ford rushed towards him, and Andrew wouldn’t lie and say he didn’t either.

"What happened? May wouldn’t say anything after she received the text from Maxy." Ford’s hands landed on Andrew’s biceps, his grip firm. Andrew would have winced, but he couldn’t blame the man. This was a terrifying situation.

Andrew glanced around the space, thinking more about Richard’s professional career than anything else at this moment. He was a private person, and he didn’t want to reveal anything without his consent.

"Let’s head to the elevator first. I don’t want to reveal his secrets here, Ford." Ford nodded, swallowing thickly. Andrew gently pried one of his hands off of his arm so that he could turn and they both headed to the elevator Andrew had just left, Ford’s death second death grip remaining in place.

"Is he okay at least?" Ford asked, insistent, and Andrew wasn’t sure how to answer it. Had he been okay when he’d first manifested? He’d answer no. He was only okay because of the illusion that Maxwell had created for him. He hadn’t even been aware of how bad it had been until he’d nearly died.

"I...don’t know." Andrew muttered, not wanting to lie to him. Ford’s grip tightened. The man had strong hands because of his hobby, and his professional career. Andrew should have remembered that, but had forgotten it in the rush of everything else. He’d have to explain the handprints to Maxwell later. He’d forgive him, easily.

"You don’t...know?" Ford repeated, and that’s when the tears started. They slowly rolled down his cheeks as he let Andrew’s words wash over him. Andrew felt like shit, but he wasn’t going to lie to him. Not after what he’d experienced, and how overwhelming and hellish it had been.