Shattered Pieces (AU,M/L,TEEN/MATURE) [COMPLETE]

Finished stories that feature the characters from the show, but there are no aliens. All fics completed on the main AU without Aliens board will eventually be moved here.

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RavenSprite
Enthusiastic Roswellian
Posts: 62
Joined: Sat Jul 24, 2004 6:13 pm
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Post by RavenSprite »

I love and hate this part. I love it because it came from somewhere that I’m really glad for, and I hate it because it’s the last. It’s over and I’ve had such a fun ride writing this story. I honestly didn’t know it would turn out this way, and while I know I left some spoilers in the last chapter, and I’d had planned to make it a little longer… I’m actually very satisfied with this part. I don’t think it needs anything more… and I hope you don’t either.

Thank you—all of you—for your constant encouragement and kind words. They made, in a lot of ways, this story possible. It’s what pushed me to continue and I’m very grateful, to each and every one of you—thank you.

EPILOGUE

“I believe in truth, beauty, freedom, and above all things… I believe in love.”
~Moulin Rouge



Three years later…

“How does it feel?” Tess asked with contagious excitement, smile bubbling in her lips, sparkling with wonder, twinkling with an aura that had come just from looking at her best friend.

Max leaned against the wall that led to the patio and looked outside of his view, a huge grin spreading on his face. Tess was happy as well. If anyone would have told him that he’d be happily married with the love of his life, with their first-year born, celebrating his twenty-eighth birthday with all of their close friends—and the circle had expanded through the years, he wouldn’t have believed it. But there he was, a sheer happiness, pure and unspoiled joy that radiated off of him like an innocent child who knew nothing of the cruelty of the world. It was definitely a nice change.

Max didn’t answer at first. In fact, Tess almost swore he hadn’t heard her. But he had. And in the span moment that followed the question, he tilted his head to the side, looking at his wife as she walked back and forth, both her hands grabbing on to the gorgeous amber-eyed, dark-haired two-year old that was walking in front of her, playing a game of trying to trip his mother over. Liz, of course, was not content with the rules that Little Michael Evans had put for himself. Of course, little Mikey couldn’t bear being away from Liz, not even for a second. Every time she wasn’t in sight, or Max at least, he’d bawl to tears—Kyle had kidded that the need to have Liz around was clearly genetic amongst the Evans men.

And his wife was truly a vision. Often he wondered if he hadn’t married to a deity. Gorgeous with her hair down—everyone was well aware of his fetish for his wife’s hair—in bouncy waves, and a lively royal purple dress that hung on to her as if it were second skin, looking like a sinfully beautiful goddess. How she could walk in those heels and keep up with their troublemaking son was a mystery to him, but he’d long ago stopped trying to have an answer for the miracle that was his wife.

It was a bright, cheerful afternoon. The Planning Nazi that was Isabel, along with Liz and Tess, had made him promise he wouldn’t try helping—after all, this evening was his, and so he’d settled for looking with glee as his family made preparations for his festivity.

“Okay, tough guy,” Liz was saying to Michael, carrying him around as she made her way towards Tess and Max. “He’s being all fussy. I think he needs a nap,” she added, this time looking to Max.

He bent down to kiss her lips, and at the same time take Michael in his arms. He was, unmistakably, his father’s son. While he’d been blessed with his mother’s gorgeous silky dark hair, he’d inherited Max’s gorgeous eyes and the dimple of his left cheek. He was a breathtaking, beautiful baby boy—but everyone had already guessed, long before he was born, with parents as Max and Liz, the child couldn’t be anything short of gorgeous.

“You causing trouble for mommy?” Max asked, making his way towards Michael’s nursery. It was still a mystery to him, how after everything they had been through, they were still together, married, and very much in love. He stopped midway, turning back to Tess who stared at him with confusion.

He smiled, realizing he hadn’t answered Tess’s question.

“I’m perfect, Tess,” he finally answered, putting an arm around his friend and kissing her forehead.

Max had to admit, it had seemed almost destined, ill-fated even, that the two of them—he and Liz—would lead a hard life. They’d had so many obstacles to overcome, so many hurdles to jump, so many mistakes and misunderstandings, and so much pain. He’d vowed to get her trust back, vowed to fight with all he had to keep her. They had renewed their vows, promised to carry each other, put each other first, and to that day he felt as though he’d kept his promise. Everyone and anyone who knew and met Max saw it was blatantly obvious he lived for his family.

“Looks like I won, huh, buddy? We, Evans men, we’re not quitters. Stupid at times, but never quitters,” he said to his son, who found his chattering hilarious, grinning up at him from the table he’d lay him on to change his diaper. He grabbed Max’s nose and played with it, giggling further. It filled his heart.

All the hurt they’d experienced was woven inside of them, carved them, and made them much wiser. Their love though, he knew ever since he’d met Liz, was a rare gift. He couldn’t not love her. Their looks, their touches, it replaced any words that any poet, any magical writer could put down on paper. Their love was the poem never yet written, their existence for each other the art that had never been painted.

Because of her he knew what love was. He’d made the biggest mistake of his life and had paid for it so very dearly. She had looked at him, with that beautiful, sweet way of looking at him poisoned with pain, and hurt, and anger. She’d said good bye to him and he’d thought he’d lost her forever. The solitude of her absence had rendered him hollow. She had walked away, tried to move forward, and desperately he’d wanted to catch up with her.

And now he had his own hugely successful law firm, and she was a sought-out engagingly successful writer, working at a highly popular, profile magazine. She’d had the coincidence of writing on one of his high-profiled cases, even.

“There ya go, little buddy,” Max whispered, easing his son into his crib as the small boy yawned with exhaustion. “Teasing mommy certainly drained ya, huh? I know exactly how you feel.”

He waited there until he was sure he was asleep, and stopped at the nightstand near the painted walls of baby blue. He’d taken that picture of Liz, lying with her back to the grass, as she had Michael on the air, laughing with glee, holding nothing back. And her eyes were shining, her smile never waning, and his love for her had increased tenfold—if that was even possible.

Max had asked her once, what exactly made her forgive him completely. She’d said that after having a talk with Dante and Nonna, she’d remembered the nights they’d made love, the long walks along the docks till midnight, drinking champagne and dancing silly in the rain. She’d remember how much he loved her, their trips to Spain and France, the beaches and the smiles and she couldn’t be angry.

“Everyone else will always be second best. There will never be another you. You’re the love of my life, Max Evans.”

Time had slowly danced upon them, and it had been impossible to rip out of their hearts the love that had consumed it. She’d found him in every line, he’d found her in every breath. It was the one thing that they now understood fully. You don’t need a reason to love—love rarely has a reason.

The night they’d finally reconnected, the night she’d finally thrown away all of her doubts into abandon and let herself be loved by him, he’d stated he was a goal-oriented man, and his only goal was to make her the happiest woman on earth. And for three years he was still trying.

As he walked downstairs he saw people were filling his large living room, there was laughter and conversation and music in his ears, tickling his senses and filling his stomach. Was it normal to be this happy?

Before he could make his way to Liz, he felt someone put a birthday hat from behind him. Turning around smiled. It was Kyle, holding on to his beer on one hand—only his second, he’d claimed, while Liz had lifted six fingers behind him. On the other was Zan, whom Kyle had recently adopted and was now his. Kyle and Tess had married a year ago, living next to Liz and Max.

As Kyle directed him to the couch where all of his friends were watching a football game, eating and drinking and horsing around, Max peeked through the corner of his eye, keeping it locked on Elizabeth, who was surrounded by her girlfriends and laughing in secret with Tess.

“Oh, man. Evans, look at your sister!”

Outside there were also people in the garden-turned-ballroom. And Alex and Isabel parents were dancing oblivious to the world, making a show. He shook his head and shrugged his shoulders. He couldn’t help it—he loved seeing his sister and Alex so at peace with each other. Max noticed Georgie was sitting on one of the chairs, looking at both Alex and Isabel with a huge grin on her face, before Alex whispered something in Isabel’s ear.

His sister giggled—she giggled and nodded—before Alex bowed gallantly and in over-the-top fashion in front of Georgie, holding out his hand as the girl took it with laughter. Now a teenager, she’d grown into a beautiful young woman. She was sporting similar blonde curls as Isabel’s, and Georgie would surely give her father Alex a heart attack as she grew older and more sought-out by the boys.

Isabel and Alex reminded Max of peace.

Liz and Max, were another deal. They weren’t ever quite peaceful, he grinned devilishly.

“I’m gonna—” Max started.

“Go drool after your wife?” Kyle supplied teasingly.

Before Max could answer, Kyle shook his head, smiling at Zan. “Go ahead, it’s what I’m gonna go do.”

Max punched his shoulder, a little more forcefully than he should, clinked beers with him and moved his way towards Liz. The minute their eyes locked she stopped talking, and grinned ear to ear, waiting for him to make it to her.

He vaguely heard one of Liz’s friends—Courtney, was it?—groan and ask Tess, “Are they always like this?”

“Worse.”

He grinned at his took Liz’s hand and kissed it. “I’m sorry to whisk her away on such a short notice but I believe my wife owes me a dance,” Max answered, pulling her towards him as she dropped the champagne glass in the table.

A collective sigh spread around her friends and they made it to the dance floor. Max was always weighed with the observation that they fit together perfectly, as if she was made for him and he, her. They stared into each other’s eyes and like so many times before, words just weren’t necessary. He would always love her eyes, his beautiful black diamonds that no longer held haunting torment or fury. They were happy, dancing, mischievous, like he’d always known them to be—promised him so many dreams, the dream of her.

He didn’t need to say that he had loved her passion and ingenuity, how he’d seen her grow to the beautiful, sexy woman so full of wisdom and glow. Looks were so strong… so powerful.

“I love you, Mrs. Evans.”

The words were so easy to him, as he spun her around and then pulled her back to him. There wasn’t a day that went by that he didn’t profess that love. Because every morning he woke up next to a miracle breathing next to him, and the realization that it isn’t an illusion but reality brought him joy every time he did so.

The beautiful smile she gave him inundated his senses. From the first moment he met her, even before, it was as if he’d always looked for her. And she’d appeared as a gorgeous goddess and he knew that was exactly how he’d imagined her. He studied her hands in his and smiled back.

“You look sinfully beautiful.”

She grinned wider. “Are you having fun?”

“You kidding me? Best party ever. I feel old.”

She laughed into his arms. “You certainly don’t look old, Maximilian,” she whispered, nuzzling his neck and burying her face in it.

“But not everyone can look as if they’re still teenagers,” he teased. He meant it because every time she’d wear jeans and a T-shirt, they’d never believe she was Michael’s mother.

“Max? I love you too. And if I had to do everything over again just to be at this point in life… I would gladly take it all.”

She smiled, taking his face in her hands and kissing him gently. She once again buried her face in the crook of his neck. Max smiled at her adoringly before turning to look once more at his surroundings. They had bumped into Dante and his new boyfriend Trevor, before they made it to the center and idly began to move to the beat.

Nonna was smiling at them, and Max returned it.

I’m Max Evans… and I’m happy.

~*~

THE END :cry:
Last edited by RavenSprite on Fri Nov 12, 2004 7:23 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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