
Finally, I just wanted to say...I know this thread is getting really long. Please don't think that I'm taking modly advantage and pruning all of your fics while leaving mine alone! lol I'm going to save up what I have tomorrow (I guess tonight) and prune like a madwoman. lol
Anyway, without further ado, Part 11.
Part 11
After he loses her in his dreams, he begins to play the old game of "what-if" during his many sleepless nights . He knows that all his "what-ifs" are just fantasies, daydreams in the dark. But during the long periods of solitude - when Pierce bores of him, or is preoccupied by something else, and leaves him in peace for days at a time - he indulges himself.
"What-if" she lives? "What-if" their connection has been severed because she thinks he is dead? "What-if" she is out there alone, missing the flame of his presence in her soul, just as he misses hers now?
"What-if" she is out there, alive, and not alone? "What-if" she has moved on without him?
Some of the "what-ifs" have easy answers. If she is alive, he is overjoyed. If she thinks he is dead, he is glad, because he does not want her to suffer the worry of knowing that he lives on in this horrible place. If she misses him, he regrets it, knowing that he is undeserving.
What he feels when he reflects on "what-if she is out there, alive, and not alone" is more complicated, and it takes him many days to decide that, were it true, he would be relieved. He would be happy. Because, he loves her enough - loved her enough he reminds himself, when he is getting too comfortable with the fantasy that she might truly be alive somewhere - to not wish a moment’s sorrow upon her.
He remembers with agony the two times he made her cry.
The first was when he told her that he needed to take a step back, that they were moving too quickly, that being with him was too dangerous for her. Her tears were resigned then, but her determination was not quenched for long. The flame continued to burn between them and roared to life again within weeks, because he had been unable to resist her. She was his dream come true. He was young and foolish, then, and if she wanted to be with him, then who was he to say no? He loved her. There had been too many years of "what-ifs" to deny, too many dreams to live, for those few happy weeks before Tess.
The confusion over Tess marked the second time. He recalls the loss of control those days heralded, how Liz’s faith in him wavered only briefly, before it strengthened again, burning on loyally throughout that awful time.
He remembers that she almost cried the last night he saw her. He remembers the tears in her voice when she stroked his neck briefly, lovingly, her fear and pain and anger over what Pierce did to him making her emotional. But his strong Liz did not fail him, even then. She died for him that night. And he can never forgive himself for it.
He can not bear the thought of even one more tear being shed for him. Not from those dark eyes he loved so well.
If she is alive, out there, not alone, and smiling, then there is still a God out there, too, somewhere, in spite of all evidence to the contrary.
***
The others remain in the main area of the suite, waiting for Kyle’s father. He is arriving any minute, having taken the first plane from Roswell that morning. They are uncertain if he knows where Max is, but the chances are good. Kyle says that his father will have traced the call. Sheriff Valenti has spent too many sleepless nights since Max and Liz’s loss to not have done so. He has struggled with Max’s request to forget him, but he knows what is right. He is determined to bring Max home.
They are all determined to bring Max home, Beth most of all, now that she knows exactly who he was to her, how much he meant to her, and that he saved her life.
She will save him now.
She knows this, but it is still overwhelming. Because of that, Beth is sitting on the bed she slept in, staring at the wall. The entire story of who she was before, how she and Max first connected, and exactly how much she has lost over the past years, is now told. She needs a few moments alone to collect herself, and they all seem to understand. They have been kind and patient with her over the past twenty-four hours, as she adjusts to the strangeness of it all, and she is grateful for it. She understands easily why these were her closest friends, even if she still cannot remember.
That she cannot remember makes her angry. She has never felt so frustrated by her lack of memory, even in the first days after it disappeared. She feels that if she could only remember, she would know exactly what is troubling her. She suspects that she would be able to find Max with no problem, and that she would even be able to figure out exactly why Zan was drawn to her from the first moment he laid eyes on her three years before.
She is not stupid. She understands that there is a reason that Zan and Ava found her in the bus station that day. She only wishes she knew what it was. She does not understand how fate could be so cruel as to put her in a position where she is going to break the heart of someone she loves. Because there is no avoiding it, and it is not fair.
Beth glances at the clock. It is close to noon. She knows that she must call Zan soon. In spite of everything, she is being unfair to him. She realizes now that she cannot continue to ignore him until Max is found. She cannot make him suffer uncertainty on top of everything else.
She presses her lips together, then closes her eyes, taking a deep breath. Her stomach is clenched with dread. She cannot remember a single instance in three years where she has not looked forward to talking to Zan. She hates it, but understands that it is what is going to be from now on. She must learn to accept it.
Her entire life for the past five years has been about accepting things that she cannot change. She can do this, too.
She moves around the bed, picking up the phone there, and dialing out. Moments later, her own voice on the answering machine sounds in her ear. Beth sighs, but leaves a message for Zan to come see her at the hotel. She hangs up, and tries Lonnie’s cell phone.
"Yeah?" Lonnie picks up after the third ring. She sounds out of breath, and not a little harassed. "Just a sec," she continues. "Rath, turn that racket down!" she screams. There is loud music pounding in the background.
Beth reflects in amazement at the normalcy of it all. Is it a just a regular day to them? Will they not miss her at all? She realizes that, if this is true, it is a good thing.
Deep down, she knows that it is not true. They are all playing a game that nothing has changed. But, everything has. It will never be the same again.
"It’s me," Beth says quietly. She is unsure what to say to Lonnie. While she understands why Lonnie dreamwalked her - that it was the price she had to pay for her friend’s acceptance - she still feels hurt, and not a little betrayed.
But, in the end, maybe it makes them even. Lonnie betrayed her, but Lonnie also knows that Beth is going to betray her brother. She has always known it, and she accepted her anyway.
There is no innocence on either side. And, perhaps, because of it, they can stay friends. For now anyway.
There is a long pause. "Hi," Lonnie says now, sounding careful. "Are you okay?"
"Yes," Beth replies. "I’m still at the hotel." There is another long silence. Beth wonders if she should say something to Lonnie about what she knows, senses that Lonnie is considering broaching the subject too, probably aware that the Roswellians have told her the truth. Finally, though, Beth simply continues, "Is Zan with you?"
"No," Lonnie sounds relieved, as though Beth’s silence, on the matter they are both thinking about, means that she is forgiven. Beth knows that it does. Because she has no right to judge anyone. Not with what she knows that she is going to do.
"Isn’t he there?" Lonnie asks. "He said he was coming to see you."
"He’s not here." Beth frowns. "I guess I’ll just wait for him then. If he calls you, tell him I’m looking for him."
"Okay," Lonnie agrees. "Beth, do you want us over there?" she asks tentatively.
Beth cannot tell if Lonnie wants her to answer yes or no. So, she says, "Do you want to come?"
Lonnie is good at this game. "If you want us to."
Beth sighs. "Maybe later. I need to talk to Zan first."
"Did you have any luck finding him?" Lonnie asks, her voice low, as though she doesn’t want Rath to overhear. Beth knows that she means Max, wonders why Lonnie even cares. Maybe she thinks that if Max is never found, things can just go back to normal. That they can pretend that none of this ever happened.
"No," Beth replies curtly. They cannot go back.
"Okay, well, call if you need anything," Lonnie replies. "We’ll be here."
Beth feels a moment’s affection for the other woman. She understands that Lonnie does not mean just in their apartment. She means that Lonnie, and Rath, and Ava, will be there for her no matter what she decides.
It only increases her guilt. Because Beth is almost certain that there will come a time when she is going to have to make a choice of friends as well. This isn’t just about Max and Zan. This is about all of them.
There are two of each of them. But there is only one Beth. She is only one person and she cannot be divided in two. She is not an alien. She is only a girl and she is undeserving of all this love and support.
Because, even without her memory, she knows which choice she is going to make. Even without having laid eyes on Max, she now understands why she never felt entirely comfortable with Zan. He was wrong. They were all wrong. She loves them, but they are not hers. She cannot take them back with her. She knows this deep inside, it makes her feel guilty, but she does not belong with them. They are not the past, and, she somehow understands that, they are also not the future.
She is Liz Parker, not Beth, and, she will always be Beth with them. She no longer wants to be Beth. She wants to be Liz. She does not remember Liz, but Liz is more comfortable in a day, then Beth is after five years.
Roswell came first. Max came first. She has made her choice, she feels the guilt of it, but she cannot regret it.
For the first time in five years, she knows exactly what is right. She no longer needs to use instinct. Instinct has not failed her in five years, but it is no longer necessary. The truth of what she must do burns within her, a flame she suspects is the connection to Max reestablishing itself as her heart turns back to him. Even if her head doesn’t remember, her heart does.
She is surprised that knowing what is right does not reassure her, that it does not make her happy. Whenever she felt the "wrongness" before, she was always sure that to know what was truly right would be liberating. That it would be empowering.
It is not.
She finds that knowing what is right does not mean that she does not ache for what is wrong.