My beautiful banner is by Anniepoo98!
by Chione
Rating: Teen/Mature
Category: M/L
Disclaimer: I don’t own Roswell. Trust me, if I did, Tess wouldn’t have existed. At all. Or she’d’ve gotten her ass kicked way early on. None of this M/T or ::shudder:: Nope. I don’t own Roswell. Just havin’ some fun cleanin’ up.
AN: Remember, at this point, Max is mid-transformation into King Max the Asshole, and Liz is mid-transformation into Bitchy Robot-Liz and so they both may seem a bit bi-polar in parts. But honestly, they’re both pretty fucked up at this point, so bear with me.
Summary: Post-Cry Your Name. Alex is dead. Liz waits outside the morgue, after Max chased after Isabel and the others left. “How do you let someone go? How do you understand that that’s all right? That everything changes? How do you find a way for that to make you feel good about life, instead of breaking your heart? The hardest thing you’ll ever learn is how to say good-bye.” --Allie, Taken, Steven Spielberg
Also, this is technically a one-shot, although I'm posting it in two parts because it's long.
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The pavement was cold beneath my jeans, but I didn’t care. I watched the men move back and forth from the van to the building, then finally pull away to go home for the night, and I didn’t care. I just sat on the curb, staring off at something I couldn’t see, but knew was there. There had to be something. Anything that could explain to me why, how, this had happened. When had things gone wrong? Weren’t our lives screwed up enough, that now we had to deal with normal teenage problems on top of alien invasions and the end of the world?
Of all the things, a stupid car crash.
But it didn’t make sense. None of this made any sense, and I couldn’t stand it.
The others had all left, gone home for the night in groups of twos and a three. But I couldn’t bring myself to move, to stop staring at something that was dancing just beyond my grasp. Alex wasn’t dead. He was--he was Alex. And tomorrow morning, he’d burst into the Crashdown all excited to be going out with Isabel. Or carting around a new CD of the Whits for us to listen to. He couldn’t be dead. He was coming back, right? He had to. He was Alex. He couldn’t just--be gone. Could he?
I knew I wasn’t dealing with this right. Shouldn’t I be sobbing, like Maria, or screaming and crying, like Isabel? God, even Tess was crying and here I was, sitting on the ground, not a tear in my eye.
He was my best friend. How do you mourn that? How do you let that go, move on? Without him in my life, who would I be? He was such a huge part of me. . .
I didn’t have anyone, anymore. Michael’d take care of Maria, he loved her even if he denied it, and he’d been with her the whole night, ever since we learned about-about Alex. Tess had her new family, Kyle and his father, and Max too. Isabel had Max and Michael, who both loved her so much. And I, who always had friends, who always had someone, was alone.
Was this how Max felt all those years, facing the world alone? I’d glimpsed that piece of him months ago, more than a year, really, though sometimes it seemed so much longer. The piece of him that was so lonely, but would never admit it. Why had he been lonely? I suddenly found myself wondering. He’d had Michael, and Isabel, and his parents, even if they didn’t know of his otherworldly origins. He was never truly alone. Or maybe I was just bitter.
I blinked, and the world was altogether clearer, and I wondered when the tears had formed. I couldn’t feel anything. Or smell anything, or hear anything or taste anything. It was all sight, and it was all the building in front of me, that hid from the world Alex’s body. Not Alex. Just his body. Alex could be anywhere, but I’d never know it. He could be standing beside me, scolding me for being so silly about everything. Of course he wasn’t dead. He was seventeen, a whole life ahead of him. He was going to get married, to Isabel, and they’d have lots of alien/human children that Maria and I would spoil rotten. He was going to live happily ever after, because he deserved it, and so much more. He deserved a long, long life.
I shook my head, jerkily. I was being stupid. Alex was dead. Dead. And he wasn’t coming back. I knew that. I knew what death was.
So why couldn’t I cry? Why was every part of me screaming this was wrong? Alex wasn’t meant to die! Not now! Future Max had said himself that Alex was there for our wedding, at nineteen. He didn’t die at seventeen in a stupid car crash!
Alex’s death was my fault. That’s why I was alone, because it was my fault and why should anyone comfort the one responsible? It was my fault.
But if he was supposed to die in a car crash, why should my being with Max or not make any difference? None of this made any sense, but I knew, knew, Alex’s death wasn’t an ordinary accident. Whether it was something alien, left behind when Max healed me, when he changed me, or whether it was my own intuition, Alex didn’t die in an accident. Nothing about this was an accident.
Which meant there were clues, and it was up to me to figure it out. Alex would want that. Alex deserved that. I wouldn’t let him down again. He was dead because of me. No one else would die because of me. No one else.
I stood on legs that didn’t have the strength to do so, ignoring the vague feeling in my stomach that told me I was going to be sick before too much longer. I had to do something other than sit there. Crying wouldn’t help, it wouldn’t bring him back and it wouldn’t answer my questions. I needed to see the body. Not Alex. Just his body. It wasn’t Alex anymore. Then I’d now for sure he was dead, and these foolish hopes would die and I could move on. There’d be some sort of clue, or evidence too, right? There had to be something that would prove I wasn’t crazy. I wasn’t imagining things.
I needed to see the body. A distant part of me knew that was morbid. If Maria were here, she’d be freaking, breathing frantically and crying for me to just let it go. Max would be worried, trying to lead me away from what he thought would be too upsetting. Valenti or Kyle or Michael would grab my shoulders, telling me to calm down, to think clearly, that I didn’t need to put myself through that.
But they were all gone, and I had no control over my feet as they moved toward the building, the door. I needed closure. To say goodbye. Ask forgiveness.
He wouldn’t be dead if it weren’t for me. I had to see what I’d done. What I’d caused.
How I was going to get in didn’t bother me. I’d break in, if I had to. Breaking into the city morgue. Was I such a horrible, messed up person? I couldn’t even explain to myself why I had to see it, much less someone else. What if I got caught?
But I could no more stop my forward movement than I could the setting sun. The door loomed above me, black and thick and metal. Cold and dark, everything Alex was not.
I reached forward.
“Liz?”
It was Max, a voice I’d never mistake. He stepped into the shadows, approaching me with his hands buried in his pockets. A small frown of concern crossed his face.
“I called your house when I got home, and your mom said you hadn’t come back yet. I was worried.” He looked down. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have just left you alone. It’s just--Isabel. . .” he trailed off.
I shook my head wildly, praying he didn’t see the gathering tears in my eyes. I shouldn’t have been ashamed to cry, my best friend was dead. But it was my fault, and for each tear, I felt all the more guilty. What right did I have to mourn him? I might as well have killed him myself! With a little help from Future Max!
I wanted to laugh at the absurdity of my life but I didn’t have the right for that either, because Alex was gone and he’d never laugh again.
“It’s fine. I’m fine.” I managed, knowing I sounded anything but. Max had to know it was a lie, or at least the old Max would’ve. The past few months he’d been a different person. I’d lost faith in how well we knew each other.
“You’re not fine.” he stated quietly. As if it was the most natural thing in the world, he crossed the paces between us and took my hands, tugging me into his embrace. A hand came up to rub my back. “You need to cry, Liz. It isn’t healthy to be so calm, to keep it locked up. I’d really rather you fall apart like Isabel or Maria.”
“Well I’m not Isabel or Maria!” I snapped, jerking back as far as his arms would allow, which wasn’t far at all. I didn’t want to fall apart! If he wanted to play the big strong man to protect the vulnerable woman, he’d have to look elsewhere! I owed Alex too much to fall apart now.
“Well maybe you should be a little more like them!” he shouted in my face, voice tight and a tone I had only heard a handful of times. All when he was ordering people around, all when he was being an asshole of a king.
“Why are you being like this? I didn’t ask you to come here! I didn’t ask for your concern!” I shouted right back. What right did he have to interrupt my peace, what right did he have to tell me how I should be reacting? Alex was my best friend, not his! They were my emotions, my tears! Just because I didn’t seem as upset as Maria and Isabel didn’t mean I loved him any less!
I pulled my arms, trying to pry myself away from him but he wasn’t letting go. “Let go!” My tears weren’t didn’t stay gone, they poured out of my eyes as I fought against him, and I knew I was losing it. But I couldn’t stop. “Let me go!” I demanded, finally pulling back enough to glower at him through the clouds in my eyes. “Please,” I begged, “let me go. Go away.”
He shook his head. “You didn’t have to ask, Liz. I care about you, why is that so hard to understand? You shouldn’t be alone right now, and I won’t let you do anything stupid. You can’t just put this all inside of you and pretend it didn’t happen!” Something flashed in his eyes, and my heart sank in response. “Or would you rather I get Kyle?”
There was gentleness in his voice, accompanied by a sharp blade I didn’t see coming. I thought we’d moved past that. Obviously not, and obviously he didn’t give a damn what I really wanted. Something I never would’ve thought possible for the old Max, but the new Max, well, Tess had finally gotten to him. He’d been different since New York. He’d been a king.
I hated it.
“Yeah, well, he’s probably a little busy with Tess at the moment.” I shot back, determined he wouldn’t see my hurt.
Childish. It was all so childish.
And Alex was still dead.
I deflated. What was I still fighting for? What was I lying for? A better future? Not without Alex. Not anymore. My arms fell limp in Max’s grip, and I let my head drop back to his chest, hiding from his eyes and closing my own from the thick cotton of his shirt. His heart pounded against my forehead, strong and healthy. Human. Normal. What was so different about them anyway, I wondered suddenly. He didn’t feel any different. I could hear his heart, feel every rise and fall of his breathing, smell the slight hint of cinnamon and that something else I could only name ‘Max.’
Whatever the difference was, Alex died for it. I knew that, beyond any doubt, in that moment. I didn’t know how, or why, or anything other than that Alex was dead, and it was my fault. I brought him into the world of aliens, and someone had thrown him out, violently, and covered it up to look like an accident.
Was it an alien sixth sense? That change in me Ava mentioned? Or just a woman’s instinct always talked about but never really explained or understood.
My silence and stillness hadn’t gone unnoticed. “Liz?” Max questioned softly, reaching up to stroke the back of my head. Running his hands through my mused ponytail, pushing out the tie and letting my hair fall around his hand. “Liz?”
I sniffed. “Isn’t this what you wanted? For me to fall apart?”
He was silent. Then, shaking his head, he tilted my chin to face him. “No, you’re not falling apart. You’re thinking. I know that look. What are you thinking about?”
He’d believe me. Of all people, he’d believe me. I believe in you he’d said. He believed in me. “I’m thinking that this is wrong. I’m thinking about everything that happened to bring us here.” I paused, swallowing, terrified to give words to the thought. Aloud it was real. “I’m thinking Alex’s death wasn’t an accident.”
He tensed. “What are you saying?”
“I think Alex was murdered.”
The quiet night air quelled the sound of the word, but it echoed around us nonetheless. Murdered.
“Liz--”
“No,” I started, anticipating his next words as if they’d been my own thoughts. He didn’t believe me. “No, don’t ‘Liz’ me. Don’t. I’m not looking for something that isn’t there. I’m not trying to make my life more exciting, or--or find the abnormal in the normal. I feel it. This stupid feeling that’s telling me Alex was killed! By someone or something. Not in a stupid car accident. I know it. I was right before, wasn’t I? I was right, when I said Topolsky was an FBI agent, and you ignored me then. I was right when I went to Sheriff Valenti for help. And I’m right about this. Maybe I don’t have any proof, and maybe I’ll never find any because whoever did this knew what they were doing. But I am right.”
“Why would anyone kill Alex?” he asked, knowing the answer and knowing I didn’t want to say it.
“You know why.” I choked out. Alex was really dead. It was my fault. “But he wasn’t supposed to die. Not yet. Not for another fourteen years, at least. He had fourteen years, and I took it away.” I whispered the last bit into his shirt. I wasn’t supposed to say that. I promised.
But it was killing me. And I didn’t care anymore about the future, or a promise. Alex was dead. I had a responsibility to him.
Max tightened his arms, hand stilling its movement through my hair. “Liz? What are you talking about?” his voice was hoarse. Strained.
I laughed. “I’m talking about the fact that I fucked with the future, and now Alex is dead. He shouldn’t be. He was there at our wedding.”
“Liz--”
I ignored him, continuing. “I know time travel isn’t possible. That’s what I said. I know it sounds insane. But we were supposed to get married, at nineteen, which is--is just too young. But we had fourteen years and then the world ended because our being together chased Tess out of town and the Royal Four, the Foursquare, was incomplete. So you--Future you--came back in time using the Granolith, which is why I knew it was important, to get me to make you--you you--fall out of love with me.” I laughed bitterly, slightly hysterical. “And I did, and it worked, but I did something wrong, and now Alex is dead. Because of me.”
He didn’t move, and I felt the stillness of his chest. Would he be mad at me, for not telling him? I didn’t care. It wasn’t on my shoulders alone anymore, and I could breathe again. I could think again.
