Driven Into Darkness (UC, AU, Mi/L, Adult) Complete

[Ashita]

Title: Driven Into Darkness
Disclaimer: The characters and concepts of "Roswell" belong to Jason Katims, Melinda Metz, and 20th Century Fox. Lyrics to Burn belong to The Cure. This fiction was influenced and inspired by The Crow. Introductory quote is from The Crow, created by James O'Barr, screenplay written by David J. Schow. I own nothing. No infringement is intended, just having a little fun.
Pairings: Michael/Liz; Implied Max/Liz
Rating: Adult
Summary: What lengths will one man be driven to when he feels he has nothing left to live for?
Warnings: Sexual Situations, Violence, Implied Rape, Character(s) Death
AN: This is not my typical happily ever after story; It was conceptualized and written late one night when I was listening to Burn by The Cure, which was written specifically for the movie The Crow. It contains dark themes and shouldn't be read by those underage. Also, Max fans beware. In this story I portray him as a sadistic, psychotic bastard. You can't take it, don't read it. Italics are dream sequences.
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“If love proves real,
And two people are meant to be together,
Nothing can keep them apart.”
~ Sarah, The Crow


A flash of lightening lit the bedroom, a lone figure lying in a double bed, deep in a restless slumber, sweat beading his forehead as he tossed in his bed. Flipping on his side he pressed his nose into a pillow beside him, drawing a shaky breath, a familiar scent teasing his nose in his dreams. Eyes flickering behind his eyelids rapidly, sandy waves pasted to his forehead, a faint sheen of sweat covered his bared chest as his fists clenched into the sheet covering his lower body.


~*~//"Don't look don't look" the shadows breathe
Whispering me away from you\\~*~


He climbed up the fire escape, restless desire coursing through his veins knowing this is the last place he should be and yet he couldn’t resist her siren’s call, whispering tauntingly through the cold, wet night, making him burn to be near her even if she never knew he was there. How many nights has he made his way to her window when the pull, the yearning became too much?

Sandy blond hair clung to cold, wet cheeks as he slipped onto the balcony quietly, stealthily closing the distance between them, hugging the shadows and thankful for the low light that kept him hidden from sight. Discovery was the last thing he needed.

Slumping against the wall, he stooped, cold rain pelting his skin and peered into her window, knowing he shouldn’t be doing this. She didn’t belong to him and if he were caught, this would break the group apart; there was more at stake than just his desires, than her desires.

She lay sprawled across her bed, sheets tangled around her legs, espresso locks splayed across the pillow, her lace covered chest rising and falling with deep, even breaths, lost in dreams and he could only hope that he figured into them – the only place they were allowed to admit how they really felt.

Body trembling, he let out a shuddering breath, dropping his head into his hands, eyes clenched and raked his hands through his drenched waves, desperately trying to quell the urge to damn the consequences and take what he has always wanted.

It’s heaven and it’s hell. In her presence he is both saved and damned. And like a addict faced with his choice addiction, he can’t turn away, can’t help but come back for more – she’s in his head, in his blood, embedded so deeply under his skin, he’ll never exorcise her. Embedded so deeply in his heart he’ll never escape.

Lifting his head for one last look, his breath stuttered when he realized she’d awoke to the electric thrum of his presence, drifting toward the window, equally drawn to him. Staring at each other through the fogged glass, he pressed his palms to the window and his breath caught when she reciprocated, fitting delicate hands to his, whispering his name.

Slamming caramel eyes shut, he growled low in his throat, damning the fates for putting them in the impossible position of loving each other yet never allowing them the relief of quenching the desire thrumming between them. Meeting chocolate orbs fiercely, he let out a strangled breath and traced her features through the glass lovingly before shooting to his feet, unable to withstand the torture any longer, disappearing into the stormy night.


~*~//"Don't wake at night to watch her sleep
You know that you will always lose\\~*~


Michael shuddered, flinching in his sleep as a clash of thunder shook the windows of his room, a cold draft whispering over sweat-slicked skin, pebbling it as he clutched a vanilla-drenched pillow closer to his body, desperately holding onto sweet dreams. Body relaxing as the sweet scent he associated with her surrounded him, he sunk deeper into the memories playing before his eyes, oblivious to the storm raging outside and coming ever closer.


~*~//This trembling
Adored
Tousled bird mad girl…\\~*~


Forehead drenched with sweat, he stood baking in the latest New Mexico heatwave watching her clean the diner. Pressing a clammy hand to his neck, he massaged taut muscles as he took a deep shuddering breath, primal heat coursing through his body, leaving it screaming for release. If it didn’t happen soon, if he didn’t quench the need raging through his blood like a wildfire, he was going to combust.

Swiping the same hand through sweaty waves, he groaned as her slow, sensual dance through the diner teased senses, enflamed a body already fevered with more than just the oppressive heat. It prickled his skin, tiny pinpoints of fire that made him ache for her touch, burn for her lips on his and in that moment he made a snap decision.

Damn the consequences. He had to know.

Striding to the door, he unlocked it with his powers, pushing it open, bells jingling softly and slipped in quietly, sealing the door behind him. He smirked as she jumped, pressing her hand to her damp throat and let out a startled gasp, whipping around to face him, eyes widening in surprise. They had been avoiding each other since the night she caught him watching her sleep and sniped at each other when they had no other choice than to be in the other’s presence.

“M-Michael,” she stuttered, staring at him warily before letting her eyes shift around the room nervously, turning abruptly and all but running into the backroom, trying to put distance between them. He stalked behind her, eating up the distance swiftly and pushed through the door, coming to a standstill inches from her back, his hot breath whispering over damp tan skin. “Um…Maria isn’t here.”

“I didn’t come for Maria,” he murmured in a low, warm voice, reveling in the sensual tension that jumped between them as he traced a finger over the back of her neck, lifting a stray ebony strand off of it and wrapping the silky hair around his finger possessively. She shuddered under his touch, turning to face him, panting softly and he gave a half-smile, eyes flashing with satisfaction knowing he could affect her so.

“Why are you here?” she whispered, breath hitching and stumbling back as he invaded her space. Hitting a wall, she gasped softly, watching him warily through thick, sable lashes when he pressed his hands against the wall on either side of her head, trapping her between the wall and his body.

“You know why I’m here,” he whispered against her lips, caressing her face with a smoldering whiskey gaze before dipping his head to fully capture them, an electric current shooting through his veins as her soft, pink mouth met his, eagerly returning the kiss. Sliding his tongue over her bottom lip languidly, he waited for permission to deepen it, sliding his tongue into the sweet recess of her mouth when her lips parted invitingly.

Dropping his hands, he tore her hair down from its messy bun, tangling one hand into rich mahogany tresses as the other snaked around her waist, yanking her against his body and kicked her legs apart gently as he slid one thigh between hers, pressing firm planes against soft curves.

She slipped her hands under his shirt, dragging soft fingers along his back teasingly, searing the skin, her touch so hot he wouldn’t have been surprised to find the flesh blistering in her wake, branded with angry red lines and he gasped as the heat he’d desperately been trying to contain all night erupted into to hungry, white-hot flames.

Grabbing her thighs, he hoisted her up, wrapping bare legs around his waist and pushed her against the wall roughly, frantically pushing the thin material of her skirt up to her waist as he rocked against her, groaning as rigid denim rubbed against wet lace. Letting out primal growl, he attacked her mouth and neck hungrily, months of suppressed desire raining over them as they gave into the magnetism that had been building since he gave her back her journal.


~*~//But every night I burn
But every night I call your name
Every night I burn
Every night I fall again\\~*~


“No touching,” she whispered, running her fingers along his bared chest, pushing him lightly into the kitchen chair, grasping his hands and placing them on either side of the chair near his thighs. Wrapping his fingers around the edges of the chair, she squeezed them gently, locking molten chocolate eyes with his. “Leave them there.”

Grunting, his fiery bourbon eyes darkened, breath quickening in anticipation as she rested her hands on his shoulders, using them for leverage and straddled his thighs, rocking against him subtly as she settled into his lap. Even after months of being together, she had the power to undo him with a simple movement.

Groaning whole-heartedly as she undulated her hips against him once again, his knuckles whitened with strain, fingers digging into the chair as her fingers delved into his soft, shoulder-length waves, tugging his head back with gentle force, sending his heart racing.

Staring into his eyes for a moment, she let her lips hover just out of reach of his and smiled, a touch of amusement glimmering in her eyes when he scowled briefly at her game. Smirking, he pressed himself into her core, grinding against the thin black lace covering her roughly, smiling wolfishly as she threw her head back, writhing in ecstasy at the movement.

“I wasn’t touching,” he smirked when she glared at him in admonishment and hissed when she raked her nails along his chest in retaliation, latching her lips against his neck and biting down, marking him before swirling her tongue over the thrumming pulse at the base of his neck. “Fuck.”

Raising glowing brown eyes blackened with desire, she smiled at him triumphantly, as she trailed hot, wet lips over his neck, down his chest, lightly flicking his nipple with the tip of her tongue before she nipped it lightly. He moaned, breath choppy with desire, squirming beneath her ministrations as she continued to pepper his chest with soft, wet kisses and light nips, trailing ever lower.

Flicking her tongue in his navel as she lifted herself off him and dropped to her knees before him, she grasped the edge of his boxers, slipping her fingers beneath the elastic waist, teasing smooth, taut skin. “Lift up,” she commanded softly, slipping his boxers over his hips and down his legs as he complied, his breath hitching when her hair grazed over him softly.

Sliding her hands up along his inner thighs, she wrapped her fingers around his erection, smirking at his strangled gasp and the slight creaking of wood as he gripped the slats tightly. His heart pounded in his ears as he slammed his eyes shut, back bowing slightly as small fingers stroked him slowly, breath falling in harsh raspy pants.

“Jesus…Liz…,” he choked, arms and back rippling with tension at the feel of hot, damp breath hovering over him, his blood rushing through his veins like liquid fire, every nerve screaming and he fought the instinct to surge forward when she swirled her tongue over his erection, taking it into her mouth, bobbing slightly before pulling back.

Growling in frustration, he glowered as ebony eyes flicked up, glinting devilishly, holding his hot gaze as she took him back into her mouth, sucking on him gently. He squeezed his eyes shut again, thighs trembling with strain as she set a slow teasing pace that had him whimpering in the back of his throat and nearly brought him to the brink before she released him with an audible pop.

Eyes snapping open, he stared at her incredulously as she stood, stunned that she had stopped, but sighed in relief when she grasped his shoulders to steady herself and climbed back into his lap, hovering over him, brushing her core against him teasingly. He shifted beneath her impatiently as she lowered herself, taking him in just slightly before she lifted up and repeated her actions.

“Screw it!” he growled, ripping his hands from the chair, grabbing her waist roughly, fingers digging into the soft flesh and yanked her down, impaling her on his aching cock, filling her to the hilt, her back bowing at the sudden, unexpected invasion. Crying out, she shuddered above him, digging her nails into his shoulders as her body adjusted.

Driven to the point of madness, he lifted her slightly before surging into her once more, groaning as hot, wet walls constricted around him tightly and he grasped her ass, lifting her up against him as he strode to the table, laying her down on the hard surface.

She gasped as cool wood slid along sweltering skin, moaning as he continued his impatient thrusts, setting a hard, fast pace that sent the fire inside flaming ever higher until they reached the flash point and exploded in waves of intense pleasure, sobbing each other’s name.


~*~//"Oh don't talk of love" the shadows purr
Murmuring me away from you
"Don't talk of worlds that never were
The end is all that's ever true\\~*~


“He’ll never let me go,” she whispered brokenly, tears welling in her eyes as she clutched her stomach and bleakly stared out the window, shivering from a chill that went bone deep, a chill that seeped into him through their soul connection. Walking over to her, he wrapped his arms around her waist, burying his face into strawberry-scented locks, his heart aching as she continued. “It’s like he doesn’t want me to move on. He doesn’t want me, but he doesn’t want anyone else to have me either.”

“We’ll figure it out,” he whispered, pulling away long enough to sink down on the couch and guided her into his lap, wrapping her in his arms. Pressing a kiss to her forehead, his throat constricted with emotions he couldn’t afford to show. Not when she was breaking down enough for both of them. “He’ll have to accept it eventually.”

“You didn’t see him, Michael,” she refuted, her body shaking like a leaf as she pressed her face against his neck, seeking his warmth to combat the cold whispering through her heart. “He was so unhinged. I’ve never seen him like this – so cold, so calculating, so cruel. I don’t even know him anymore.”

Pressing his lips to her temple, he crushed her to his chest, breath stuttering as fear traced cold fingers over his spine. Repressing a shudder of apprehension, he tipped her head back, brushing cool lips over hers in comfort and desperately fought against the curl of dread in his stomach.

“I’ll keep you safe,” he murmured, leaning his forehead against hers as he met her terrified gaze, his icing over with cold anger that her ex could do this to someone he supposedly loved. “No matter what it takes.”

“No! No, promise me you’ll stay away from him,” she cried hastily, panicking at the idea him going against her former boyfriend, knowing nothing good would come of it. Shoving herself away from him, she frantically gripped his jaw. “Please.”

“I can’t promise that, I won’t,” he refused, shaking his head sorrowfully, willing to promise her anything but that. “I can’t when it comes to you. I lov…”

“Shhhh,” she whispered, pressing her fingers to his lips softly, tears streaming down her cheeks, knowing if those words passed his lips, she could never tolerate keeping their relationship a secret and coming out at this time would put them both in danger. She wouldn’t be able to live if anything happened to him. “I know. Me too.”


~*~//There's nothing you can ever say
Nothing you can ever do... "\\~*~


Lightening streaked across the howling night sky, lighting the room bright as day as Michael continued to sleep, his brow pinching as dreams continued to flow through his mind, the memories of better times bleeding into his darkest days. Unconsciously flinching, he jerked his head away from the blinding light at his window; so deep in his slumber he wasn’t able to escape the scenes that haunted him every night, his heart rate tripling, beating a staccato rhythm against his chest as he slid into the nightmare that had become his life.


~*~//Still every night I burn
Every night I scream your name
Every night I burn
Every night the dream's the same\\~*~


He walked into the apartment, surprised at the dark, cold and quiet atmosphere since Liz was usually home ahead of him in the kitchen preparing dinner. Or at the very least preparing stuff so that he could throw it together since she and the stove didn’t get along. Chuckling softly, he recalled the last time she attempted dinner on her own and the fire that resulted as he closed the door.

Shrugging out of his jacket, he threw it on the couch and kicked his shoes off, leaving them near the door despite knowing she’d yell at him for leaving his stuff all over the place. But oh, the making up that came after those shouting matches was well worth her annoyance. You’d think she’d give it up as a lost cause after nearly a year of living together, but she could rival him in her stubbornness.

Striding across the living room to their bedroom, wondering if she got caught up at work, he threw the door open and staggered back as the cloying, metallic scent of blood and singed flesh assaulted his nose. Heart pounding, fear skittering over his spine, he threw the light on, and stumbled back, his eyes unable to make sense of the scene greeting him.

He had found them.

Letting out a strangled cry, he stumbled to the bed encasing a petite body tied to the headboard, congealing blood drenching white sheets and drying on pale mocha skin encased in ripped ivory lace, fine espresso strands clumped and matted with the same.

Falling onto the bed blindly, he pressed his hands to the wounds on her chest, desperately calling the healing energy from his body to heal her wounds, screaming in frustration when his limited powers weren’t enough to staunch the blood trickling over her body. Untying her wrists, he cradled her battered body to his chest and pressed his face against her head, shuddering sobs wrenched from his throat.

“Mic – Michael,” she rasped, giving a choking cough as a trickle of blood spilled over the corner of her mouth. Her eyes opened weakly, breaths shallow and uneven, as she clung to life by a thread, needing to tell him one last time.

“We need to get you to a hospital,” he choked, wild brandy eyes frantically looking around for the phone to call an ambulance, and not seeing it. Torn between wanting to keep her in his arms and finding his elusive cell phone, he let the tears stream down his face unchecked.

“No…t-time,” she whispered breathlessly, fighting the pull of darkness that hovered on the edges of her consciousness. “Need…to…tell you.”

“Shhhh, save your strength,” he admonished, his heart seizing, breath choked in his throat as time and her life slipped through his fingers. Laying her down gently, he moved to find a phone, stilling only when he felt her hand on his wrist, throat clenching as she looked at him sadly.

“Need…to tell you…worth it,” she whispered, love shining dully in her eyes before they slid closed, her breath shuddering in an unmistakable death rattle, letting her last thoughts out with her last breath. “Love you.”

“Nooooooooooooo,” he screamed, searing pain and fury ripping through his body, as he gathered her in his arms once more, trying to breathe life into her, slumping over her broken body with a keening cry when all his efforts proved fruitless. Burying his face against her lifeless body, unmindful of the blood that clung to them both, his lungs burning with crushing pain, he began a breathless, furious litany. “No, no, no, no, no, no, no….”


~*~//Every night I burn
Waiting for my only friend
Every night I burn
Waiting for the world to end\\~*~


A cold, damp wind whipped through tangled, tawny waves, as he stood stoic and unmoving over her grave, his jaw ticking with repressed rage as it was easier to face the anger than yielding to the yawning emptiness eating away at what was left of his heart. Kneeling beside the stone angel that marked her final resting place, he lovingly traced the lettering on her grave marker, eyes glassing over with unshed tears.

“Elizabeth Parker Guerin, September 22, 1983 – December 10, 2004, Beloved Wife and Best Friend.”

Pressing his head against the cold granite, he took a shuddering breath, pain lancing his heart and regretted that he no one to share his grief with since they had been on the run, hiding from friends and family for the past year, trying to keep the psycho king from learning of their location. All for naught it turns out. He found them anyway.

Opening his eyes, he noticed three white roses lying on the ground in front of her headstone in addition to the dozen he’d placed there the day before. Dazed, he reached down to pick them up, gasping when his head spun dizzily and a scene flashed across his eyes.

*flash*

“If I can’t have you, no one will,” Max grated, face beet red with anger, eyes wild as he loomed over Liz, pressing her to the bed, holding her in place with his powers as he wrapped a scarf around her wrists. She screamed as he ripped the soft ivory lace of the nightgown she had been wearing to surprise Michael when he came home and prayed that he’d make it home before anything happened. Her head rocked to the side as Max backhanded her, stunning her as he continued to rip the ivory lace from her body.

*end flash*

He let out an anguished bellow, slumping over as the image of his wife being brutalized by a man he once called brother ricocheted through his head and he beat his fists against the freshly laid earth, damning all in Heaven and Hell for his loss. Clutching the three roses in one hand, his clenched his teeth and squeezed them between his fingers, uncaring to the thorns ripping into his skin, incinerating them with his powers, their ashes dancing on the wind.

Fixing burning eyes on the wavering name before him, he laid a single white rose on her grave and touched her name once more, vowing then and there he wouldn’t rest until the bastard paid for his sins.


~*~//"Just paint your face" the shadows smile
Slipping me away from you\\~*~


“Liiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiz…” Michael cried, jerking upright in bed, clenching the sheet in his hands and gasping as the bitter scene wrenched him from sleep, the light bulb in the bedside lamp shattering as his powers lashed out in his pain. Dragging harsh, rasping breaths into his constricted lungs, sweat dripping down his temples and chest, he swiped a hand over his face, wiping away the moisture trailing over his cheeks.

A year later and the dreams were still haunting him, would likely haunt him until the day Max paid for Liz’s death. Tossing the sheet aside, he climbed out of bed, stalking blindly into his bathroom, fighting the familiar roll of nausea that came after the nightmares. Bracing his hands on the sink, he bowed his head and waited until his heart and breath returned to normal, carefully rebuilding his walls in preparation of the coming night.

The anniversary of her death.

He knows he’ll be there. He won’t be able to resist visiting that last link to her on the night he so brutally ripped her from this world because of his sick, twisted love. He’s followed him, tracked him for the past year, always managing to miss him by moments. Tonight is the night he’s waited for months. It was poetic justice to end it here, the place it all began.

Cold resolve coursed through his veins as he lifted his head to stare into the mirror, icy, dead eyes staring out at him, his jaw clenched, lips pressed in a thin line. Drawing in a steadying breath, he clenched his fists as the familiar rage built in him and he vowed that tonight he would blast the little psycho back to hell where he belonged, even if it meant he had to follow him down into its fiery depths himself.

His life meant nothing to him anymore, was forfeit the day he failed to protect her like he promised years before. He’d merely existed day to day, waiting for the opportunity to bring the fallen king to justice. Once accomplished, he had no reason to live on and could only hope he’d soon join her in whatever afterlife she lead.


~*~//"Oh it doesn't matter how you hide
Find you if we're wanting to\\~*~


Striding back into the bedroom, he pulled out his duffle bag, grabbing out a black, long-sleeved knit shirt, black jeans and black socks. Tugging the shirt over his head, he quickly slid his arms into the armholes, impervious to the lightening flashing outside his window. Slipping into his jeans, he buttoned them up swiftly and sat down on the hotel bed, yanking his socks on before sliding them into worn Doc Martens, tying them up.

Standing he reached into the bag once more, pulling out a dagger, their wedding date engraved on the blade and stared at the knife. Breath hitching as a sharp tug of pain lanced his heart, he quickly buried it in the dark hole he created for every emotion other than the hate that has been his constant companion since the day his so-called brother raped and killed his wife.

It had been her wedding gift to him, knowing that anything else would have been viewed as frivolous and useless. She had said she felt better knowing he had it to protect his life on the off chance he ran into Max. If only he had left it that day, she might have had a chance. Shoulders tensing with fury, he slid the blade back into its sheath and strapped to his boot, out of sight. It was precautionary, his last resort in case Max got him in a tricky position.

Reaching for the pillow he tugged the pillowcase off, folding it carefully and placed it into his duffle, giving indifferent sweep of the room that had been his home while he waited for Max, making sure he hadn’t left anything behind. Although, to be honest, he had nothing that held any importance outside the pillowcase she’d embroidered, scented with vanilla and the knife strapped to his calf. Walking swiftly to the door he grabbed his jacket and threw it over one shoulder, stepping out the door, shutting it behind him.

Shading his eyes against the pouring rain, he gazed in the direction of the cemetery, lightening brightening the sky enough for him to see the tall church steeple and smiled coldly as he felt the familiar surge of power along his connection. He was there.

He threw his bag on the back of his bike, strapping it in, ready to leave if he survived this night. If he didn’t, what happened to his meager possessions wouldn’t matter. He wasn’t worried about someone coming after him for murder, as he knows that aliens disintegrate after death. All that would be left of Max is a pile of ashes, certainly weird, but nothing anyone couldn’t explain away.

But if he made it through tonight, he wanted to make his way to Roswell to check on everyone and pay his respects to Liz’s parents, Maria and Alex before he left for good. Walking away from his bike, he started towards the cemetery, covering the two blocks swiftly and entered the grounds as stealthily as possible. He knew Max would feel him coming, knew he was waiting for him, but there was no need to alert the rest of the world of their impending battle.


~*~//So slide back down and close your eyes
Sleep a while
You must be tired... "\\~*~


He stopped five feet in front of her grave, his stomach turning sickly as he spied his brother kneeling at the base of her head stone, placing a dozen white roses on the wet, freshly cut grass. A cold wind whipped drenched, tawny waves back from his stony face, rage coursing through his blood at Max’s audacity. He had no right mourning her death since she fell at his hands.

Standing rigidly, legs planted shoulder-width apart, he crossed his arms over his chest, raking burning brandy eyes over the shabbily clothed man, waiting for him to turn around and face his judge, jury and executioner. He smirked at the would-be king’s ravaged appearance. Apparently the past year of running hadn’t been kind to him and Michael couldn’t help the cold, vindicated smile that crossed his face knowing Max had his own demons to face.

The other man went rigid, catching wind of the predator standing behind him and stroked the rose petals lovingly once more, pretending it was her soft skin he was touching once again, before he stood and wiping the rain drops from his face, turning to face the cold, furious eyes of his nemesis.

It wasn’t supposed to be this way. He and Liz were soulmates. It should have been his last name chiseled into that stone, would have been his if Michael hadn’t stolen her away from him, hadn’t brainwashed her into giving him up. Her death was his fault.

Spinning around, he glowered at the tall man behind him, squaring his shoulders, anticipating the end to this mad game of cat and mouse they’d been playing for the past year. He was tired of running, tired of watching over his shoulder, waiting for a pair of fulminating caramel eyes watching for a slip, waiting for him to stumble so he could swoop in and cast a deathblow. It was time to end this one way or another.

“Michael,” he grated through clenched teeth, turning wild, hostile eyes onto the man who had lived the life he wanted; who had stolen all his dreams. Clenching his fists until his nails drew blood, he braced himself for the coming blast.

“Maxwell,” Michael spat coldly, back and arms tightening with tension, he threw his hand up, throwing out a surge of power, knocking the other man back ten feet but not killing him. He wanted to toy with him the way he toyed with Liz before he finally got around to killing her.


~*~//But every night I burn
Every night I call your name
Every night I burn
Every night I fall again\\~*~


Stalking towards the deposed king, Michael held up his hand, ready to blast him again as he clambered to his feet and was caught off guard when he whirled around flinging out his arm, knocking him back off his feet with a burst of power, slamming him into Liz’s headstone, knocking the breath from his lungs.

Grass squishing under his feet, he shook it off, staggering to his feet in time for Max to take a running leap at him, launching them both through the air, coming to a rest against a tomb. Grunting on impact, he dodged Max’s fist, smirking cruelly when he heard a loud crunch and the man swearing violently under his breath as it slammed into the concrete behind them. Kicking out his legs, he launched his former friend off his body, rising to meet his flurry of fists, parrying the blows without fail.

Spinning around, Michael flung a leg out, catching Max square in the chest and sending him hurtling to the ground, a pained grunt rushing past his lips at impact. Blood boiling, his control slipped slightly and he rushed toward his quarry, missing the flash of silver as the other man jumped to his feet, lashing out with a swipe of his knife. Hissing in pain as the blade caught him across the stomach, ripping through the shirt and sinking into tender skin, he threw his arm out throwing the brunette back with a small burst of power.

Dropping to his knees, fumbling to get his knife, he cried out when Max scrambled up and threw him back against Liz’s headstone with a strong burst of power, momentarily stunning him when his head slammed against the granite. He staggered into a sitting position, only to be knocked back against the hard rock once more, his ears ringing as Max slammed it against the rock, while twisting his knife into his gut, smiling down at him with a feral grin, all trace of sanity wiped from his eyes.

Ignoring the buzzing in his head, Michael grabbed the wrist holding the knife, shooting a power blast through it, effectively rendering it useless, the knife falling from nerveless fingers as Max screamed in rage.

Slamming him against the stone again with his good hand, Max took advantage of his stunned senses to reach his hand between them, placing it over his heart and sending blast of power through his body, searing him from the inside out. Screaming in agony, Michael fumbled with his pant leg, desperately reaching for his knife when Max started speaking.

“You know, she always wanted you. I always knew it. She couldn’t hide her feelings to save her life, but I pretended I didn’t know just to keep her tied to me,” Max grunted almost conversationally, pressing against his chest harder, sending another blast of power through his body, grinning madly when he let out another pained grunt, unaware of the of his actions as he grabbed the knife from his sheath. “She cried your name the entire time I was with her that night. How does it feel to know you couldn’t save her, Michael?”

“You sick, depraved bastard,” Michael grunted, fighting for consciousness and using the last of his flagging strength to drag his arm back up to his body, knife gripped in his hand. Meeting his nemesis in the eyes one final time, he shoved the knife into his unprotected chest, driving it into his heart to the hilt, blood spurting down his arm and watched stunned disbelief filter through his eyes. Max’s lips moving soundlessly as his eyes filmed over, toppling over to the side, staring up at the night sky sightlessly before turning into dust as the life drained out of his body. “I hope you rot in hell.”


~*~//Every night I burn
Scream the animal scream
Every night I burn
Dream the crow black dream\\~*~


Choking on the dust floating on the wind, rain pelting on his upturned face, Michael grimaced as he dragged himself into a sitting position and propped his back against his wife’s headstone. He gingerly touched the wound on his chest, convulsing as searing pain flashed through his body, stealing his breath as he fought for consciousness. He was dying and he knew it. He didn’t mind. Life meant nothing without Liz by his side.

Gasping for breath, he remembered when he first saw Liz as more than just a girl Max liked, the night he stole her journal and irrevocably changed his life, the night she became his life. Despite the way things ended, he’d never regret the day he stopped hiding behind his wall and let her in fully. He’d never regret any moment they shared. Those moments had made his short life worth living.

Sliding his eyes shut, he embraced the darkness slipping across his eyes, welcomed an ending to the pain of the last year of his life. Taking a shuddering breath, he touched the granite behind him, tracing her name one last time, whispering softly as he slid further into the black void. “Love you…Liz.”

Flinching, he cursed softly when what he took to be a bright flash of lightening burst across his vision and wrenched his eyes open, staring at the bright sky glowing down on him in a daze, blinking to clear the spots dancing before him. Rubbing his eyes, he took a shuddering breath, body numb to the pain that raked over his nerves earlier and blurrily focused on a figure, shrouded in a white hooded cape, walking towards him.

Cringing, he shrunk away from the approaching figure, lifting his hand defensively, and wondered how he could ever explain the glowing silver handprint on his body, when the figure drifted to a stop before him quietly. Delicate hands rose, clasping the edges of the hood and pulled it down, revealing a fall of espresso tresses. Crouching down, she smiled at him, love flashing in chocolate eyes as she held a hand out to him.

“Liz…?” he whispered, wondering if he was hallucinating, slipping his hand into hers and letting her pull him to his feet, standing before her in dazed wonder as he reached out and lightly touched her hair, afraid she’d disappear. “But you’re….”

“Yes,” she smiled, nodding her head softly, cupping his jaw with a soft hand, tears of joy brimming in her eyes as she touched him for the first time in a year, drawing her fingers through his shoulder length waves.

“Then I’m…” he choked, eyes brimming with tears as he looked down, throat clenching as he saw his broken body still propped against her head stone, disintegrating into a fine ash covering her grave. Turning back, he noticed his wounds were healed; his black clothing replaced with a matching white cloak and met her eyes. “Is it really you?”

“Yes,” she whispered, laughing when he scooped her up in his arms, cradling her to his chest and pressed his lips to hers, laughing incredulously. Setting her back on her feet, he pressed his head against hers; staring deeply into the eyes he’d missed so much over the past year and breathed in her scent. She smiled; trailing soft fingers over his cheek and gave a happy sigh, soul complete once more. “Let’s go home, Michael.”

Wrapping her in his arms, he pressed his lips to hers as they glowed softly, too entranced in one another to notice they were fading away into the night.


~*~//Dream the crow black dream... \\~*~

~Burn, The Cure