The Sweetness of the Leaving (CC,M/L,Mature)Outline;7May06[W
Posted: Mon Aug 01, 2005 10:22 pm
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Title: The Sweetness of the Leaving
Author: Tasyfa
Author’s Email: tasyfa@yahoo.com
Disclaimer: The characters of Roswell are the property of Twentieth Century Fox Television and Regency Productions. All original characters and concepts are the property of the author. No profit has been made from the distribution of this work of fiction.
Category: Max/Liz POV
Rating: Mature
Summary: Picks up mid-It's Too Late & It's Too Bad. Liz is on her way to the airport, and Max has broken all of his relationships—all but one. But when he finds out what really happened to Alex, the consequences are events that no one expected or is prepared to deal with. How do they pick up the pieces and go on?
Author’s Note: The original inspiration for this was a discussion on establishing believable character motivation. And just so everyone knows right from the beginning, this is not a good choice for you if you’re: a) under 18; b) not into angst; or c) squicked by even a hint of UC-ness, despite the clear CC emotional connections. And, don’t panic over the first few paragraphs! Nothing is as it seems. I will be posting a chapter every 2 weeks, and I hope to make that like clockwork.
Hugs, Tas
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Chapter One
~~Max~~
“…I don’t know what’s going on anymore. I thought I knew but I don’t. I’ve lost everyone.” It sounds so melodramatic but I don’t care. It’s how I feel. So very alone.
I look over at Tess when she replies, “I’ll be here for eternity.” She takes my hand, slipping it out of my pocket. Her fingers are warm but the contact feels plastic, unreal. Her hair is soft and messy tonight; unbound and left free. I like it.
She steps close, raising her face, and I lean in and kiss her. Gently, and then I withdraw equally softly. This doesn’t feel right. “I’m ready to wake up now.” I whisper it into the darkness. I want the nightmare that my life has turned into to go away. I want the dream back.
Tess interprets my words differently—how could she not, after the discussions we’ve had? Her mouth fastens onto mine. Too-soft lips, plastic tongue. None of this is happening. None of this is real.
When I try to disengage, I find that I can’t. There are tendrils squirming into my mind, sapping my will and twisting it to hers. You know you want to, she gloats in my head. Her hand snakes between my legs, fondling greedily. I can feel how you want me.
I’m a lot of different things, and one of them is a guy. An under twenty guy, at that. Getting a physical reaction out of me doesn’t exactly rate up there with one of Houdini’s water escapes for the difficulty factor. “Tess, no.” I force the words out through her unending kiss.
She ignores my plea and begins tugging me towards the door to the observatory. It’s closed tonight and dizzily I wonder if she even knows that. Then I flash on her intentions and amazingly enough, it turns out that there is still room for rage.
I shove at her, frantic to stop this insanity. My lips feel bruised as her mouth rips away. Tess stumbles back, blue eyes wide, and falls heavily against the Jeep. There is a sickening crack.
“Oh, no. No, no…” The word becomes a croon of protest as I crouch beside her, checking for life signs. Nothing.
I’ve killed her.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
I finish setting the healing stones around Tess’s body. She looks eerie in the greenish light of the pod chamber, her head no longer tilted at an unnatural angle. For all my careful arrangements, she is nonetheless still dead. I knew even before I tried that just my own power would not be enough to save her, not tonight, so I brought her here.
I kneel by her hip and start to sink into the place in myself where my healing abilities live. Something feels wrong. Not in me; in Tess. Centered in my primary power like this, I can feel the evil emanating from her.
My hand covers my mouth, stifling the gasp of horror. What has she done to give off this kind of vibe? With terrible clarity, I know that there’s no way I can revive her now. But I need to know what happened. And so once again I stretch out my hand. Only this time, I place it on the disheveled curls covering her head, and do something I swore I’d never do. I rape the vestiges of her dying mind.
Like a river in flood, the answers fill me. Alex, bound to her will to translate the book, his brain breaking down from the recurring mindwarps. Nasedo, elaborating on a deal made with Khivar decades ago, for our deaths. Tess’s own distorted desire for me, and for a child with me—her goal for this night. The location of the translation, and its contents: a way home. All things she felt were worth killing for.
I agree.
I activate the stones, using them to boost my power, and flames sweep over her body. I move my hand to a safe distance but continue to fuel the fire until there is nothing but ashes. Then I retrieve the metal book, using it like a dust pan to scoop up what’s left of Tess Harding. Ashes and book go into the ruins of her pod. It’s as close as she’s going to get to home.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Moonrise finds me on Liz’s balcony, writing. I know she’s not here. I tried her cell phone but I couldn’t get through. She should be in the sky somewhere, on her way out of the country. On a wild goose chase no less, since the murderer was in our midst the whole time. Liz’s parents will forgive her, knowing that she’s been out of her head with grief.
Liz forgiving me is not so easy. Or even in the realm of ‘possible.’
I feel like I’m rousing after a long dream—like I’m waking up, as I told Tess I wanted to do. For the first time I truly understand Liz’s need to get it all down on paper because I feel it, too. I know how big a difference there is between our needs, though.
All our needs. We’ve drifted so unbelievably far apart. This time last year, we were strong together. No outside force existed that could break us apart; we were that secure in each other. And we were right to feel that way, because nothing external did separate us. What sent us spinning off in opposite directions was internal—Liz.
When you come right down to it, there are two conflicting truths: I need Liz, and Liz needs me to let go. It’s that heartbreakingly simple. Without me in that equation, maybe Liz can find all those things she talked about. Safety. Normality. A reason to smile again.
Love that doesn’t destroy.
Explanations finished, I tuck the creased paper into the front pocket of my jeans, making sure it pokes out a little so someone can find this letter. Maybe someday Liz will understand, if she can’t forgive. I’m beyond caring now, almost. I took a life tonight, two times over. Accidental the first time, but there was nothing unintentional about the flames. What difference does it make? My own life ended one Friday in October. These last few months have been nothing but me hanging in limbo, waiting. Well, time’s up.
I concentrate on the plastic arms of the lounge chair, focusing until they glitter like steel in the moonlight. In one swift movement, I draw my wrists across the sharpened edges. It takes a minute for the pain to come, then it overwhelms me and I gasp. But it quickly feels distant and my only thought is to keep my hands up on my chest so that the letter stays clean.
As my consciousness wings away, I see Liz standing on the tarmac at the airport, cell phone to her ear. I can hear the conversation and it vaguely amuses me that she’s not going to Sweden after all. She’s not supposed to find me yet; it’s too soon. It doesn’t take long for even that much to fade away in the darkness.
.