Flip Side of Destiny.
Banner by the talented Lolita Behrbuns
Author - Sarah. (Ros2nz/dream on.)
Genre - AU
Rating - MATURE
CC/ UC. Dreamer.
Disclaimer - own nothing.
Feedback - Like I'll refuse?

Summary - 2016. Liz is back in town. After 15 years of living the life in New York, she's back to her roots. She didn't come alone. There's a son - Alex. Yep, real one died in 2001. No, this is not Max's son; it's Zan's. Da Man's.
Years ago, one fine day, he'd zoomed into Roswell and nothing had ever been the same. Sparks flew, tables turned; Liz knew it was time to let go to an impossible situation. Max Evans had wanted nothing to do with her and if that was the case, it was time to start living the life she'd secretly dreamed about. Later, of course, she knew that it had been a mistake. Her marriage had fallen apart almost instantly, mostly due to Zan's lack of presence and Liz's own misgivings about a past she'd left unresolved.
Now, after years of soul-searching and self-discovery, she knows what she has to do and where she has to go. She was meant for someone and it's time to bare the fangs and claim him.
Only one obstacle stands in her way. She might think that Max is the gorgeous, kindest friend who's been there forever, but she doesn't know that he was hatched....
A/N - Hehe. I'm shameless. Well, I was thinking about the "Writing Phobia" thread and decided to scrunch up my face and write about two things I've always detested - M/L chosing partners apart from each other and Liz having a kid. Surprisingly enough, I enjoyed writing Mom Liz and M/L grown up without living in each other's faces and without all that angst. I don't intend for this fic to be dark and brooding, but it should have some

Another thing, it seems that lately all fics are about M/L/Z and I just want to clarify that this is not a rip-off. I haven't read Kath 7's "Burn for Me" or Breathless's latest one but I've asked around and hopefully, I won't be stepping on any toes.

As for updating, I'll try to keep it weekly. I don't plan on this being some epic, probably upto 30-40 chapters. Dunno yet. Anyway, here it is.
Prologue.
A door slammed. I hauled my numb body out of the black Jag, or it was supposed to be black but currently resembled mud, and leaned against the open door. I felt like I was back in the ghost Westerns, being a new man in town. Only, there were two things wrong with the scenario – I was no man and this was my hometown. Roswell, New Mexico, smallest of small towns.
How times changed. After graduating out of West Roswell High, I’d taken the next plane out to New York. And I’d never looked back. Until present, that was. After 10 years of living on the edge and the next 5 years of soul-searching and loneliness, I’d decided that it was time for me to go back to my roots. I’d spent years living my dream life, only for it to have gone sour in the end.
“Mom!”
A voice whined from the side. That’s right, my five-year old son, who was currently trying to claw his way out of my leather seats. I named him Alex, after one of my best friends. The original Alex Whitman had died back in 2001, in a car crash and my baby was my personal tribute to him.
“What’s wrong, honey?” I asked him wearily. The long drive from Manhattan to Roswell, Main Street had taken its toll on both of us. And to think that I was this close to a shower and food and I was still parked on the side of the desert was unacceptable to my son.
“Ma, can we go?” He moaned; the air-conditioning hadn’t done much for his temperature. He was sweaty, hot and looking ready to attack the next object, my dash.
“Ok, baby, we’re almost here.”
“Why’d you want to live in the desert, Mom? Look at this place!” he whined, looking morosely at the expanse of sand. “No football field! No parks, no nothing! What’re we doing out in the middle of nowhere?”
Go figure. My first child, who'd been born with a few ‘complications’ and he was smarter than most kids I’d seen his age. Come to think of it, he’d aced his classes, was almost one entire year ahead of his batch and his doctor diagnosed him with ‘mental handicaps’.
Exactly where? was my question. For someone with mental handicap, this kid of mine didn’t act normal at times.
“Look, honey!” I pointed at the dunes, which had turned a fiery red from the falling twilight, “Isn’t that gorgeous? Where’d you have seen stuff like that in Manhattan?”
“Nowhere.” He huffed, “And I was happy that way.”
“Alex!” My tone was less than pleased and he sulked at the side-mirror rebelliously. “I told you! We decided to come back to Roswell for a while, till Mom can get a handle on things. After Granny’s better, we’ll leave. Happy now?”
Another reason I decided to come back was because of my mother’s recent skirmishes with spondalitis. Years of working in the family restaurant had strained her badly and after that last phone call from my Dad, all desperate, I couldn’t stay away.
Mom had been confined to total bed-rest so there I was, bags and baggage, back to where it had all began.
We purred past Highway 42, the infamous location where there had been an alleged UFO crash back in 1942. Yeah, sure. I got a sudden inspiration and pull on the brakes.
“Alex!” I smiled enthusiastically. I could see it wasn’t being returned. “Look at that, sweetie. That’s where the aliens landed.” I made sure my voice stressed the word ‘aliens.’
His eyes lit up for one second, flecks of green catching the last rays. I marveled at how similar he looked like his dad and yet wasn’t anything like him at all.
Finally, his interest was perked. “Aliens? REAL aliens?”
I nodded solemnly, “Real with real probes and flying saucer.”
His eyes went huge. “HERE?” the sneer all but gone, as he looked frantically across the desert.
For one instant, as his eyes came into contact with the high rock, he gasped out in shock.
“Alex!” I shrilled worriedly. “What’s wrong?”
“I think I just saw an alien, Mommy!” he smiled toothily at me.
Phew! Darn kid. Nearly gave me a coronary. Speaking of which, I’ve to take Alex to the pediatrician here soon. Got to check the facilities up.
“Sure you did.” I grinned back.
To my chagrin, his eyes had gone back to the supreme bored stage. I couldn’t blame him. Ever since he realized I’d been serious about our move from New York, Alex had shut down on me. I realized that the move was hard on him, that he was leaving his friends behind and everything but what could I do? My mother was sick; I couldn’t not go!
“Honey,” I broached the subject cautiously, “You understand why we’re here, don’t you?’
He looked at me for a long while, his eyes full of tears. “Yes, Ma. I know. But doesn’t mean I have to like it.”
Oh, the things that longed to make its way out of my throat! I wanted to scream at him that it hadn’t exactly been my idea of living in New York to begin with. I’d never wanted to move away from the people I loved but for his Neanderthal, no-good father, I’d done that and I’d spent the last 14 years regretting it. But I couldn’t lay it on my five-year old’s feet, so I shut up and gripped the wheel harder.
“You’ll like it here.” I told him flatly.
“You want me to like it here!” he sniffled.
I glared at him and then subsided, having seen the misery in his little face, his temples wet from the heat.
“Aww, baby, the day you don’t like it here, just tell me and we’ll go back.” I assured him, aching to ease the lost look in his eyes.
He perked up “Promise?”
One moment of rash indiscretion cost me a lifetime of trouble. “Yes, I promise.” I gritted out.
He settled back, peaceful. Damn! Easier said than done. I’d made specific plans to get the hell out of New York and never return. I’d sold off our little flat in Brooklyn and with that cash and the amount I’d made for working as a free-lance journalist, I’d been guaranteed of some solid green in the bag. But not enough to go back to that damn place! My mind howled at the injustice to it. I sighed and concentrated on driving faster. The sooner we got there, the sooner I’d get some peace.
We entered the city limits. Roswell hadn’t changed much in the last 15 years. This was my first trip back after God-knows how long. The last time I’d come back was after my college graduation. I marveled at the things that had in fact, been remodeled.
The roads look broader and there are a lot of complexes nearer to the highway. Roswell has expanded but not much. I saw the old joints we used to frequent, the memories of those days were still etched in my brain in fine print. I remembered the days I’d spent shopping around the mall with my best friend Maria and Alex and the fun we’d had.
“Look, Alex!” I rolled down the window and all of a sudden, there wasn’t that oppressive heat anymore. Instead, it was a sweet taste in the cool wind and it reminded me where I was.
“Hey, that’s my high school! I used to go there.”
He scrambled up to the window and hung out his head cautiously, making sure there was no punk anywhere trying to rip his cap off his head. I chortled with glee.
“Aw, kid, this ain’t New York! The last time they had a murder here was, wait…lemme see. Aha! Exactly 15 years ago! Near Bitter Lakes!” I smiled triumphantly at my son.
He slumped back. “And I thought it was about to get interesting!” he sighed. “Wake me when we’re there.”
Bastard! I scowl but the old places are crowding in my mind and I don’t have time to reflect on my son’s apparent boredom.
The redbrick structure of the high school hadn’t changed. There were cars parked everywhere and the small roars of the crowd came along on the wind.
Alex moved his head off his chest. “What’s that?" he asked excitedly, sure it was a mob.
I rolled my eyes. “That’s football night. And judging from the banners, it’s ERH vs. WRH! Now, those were fun!”
Memories assailed me. “And this year’s finest quarterback, Kyle Valenti!” I could almost hear the roars and the smell of the stands, the way Kyle looked in his jersey, all bloated up with pride to be the star of the show. I remembered us making fun of the cheerleaders and anyone else we could find. And then, later, the crowds in the Crashdown and finally the last ding! of the orders and all of us sitting down for a group chat session. I remembered the long walks and all those garage concerts and how I’d thrown it all away. All for him.
Enough of that, Liz! You made a mistake; you lived with it and now, get OVER it! I shook my head to clear the images from the past. It was true, I’d made my mistakes and I’d paid for it. Now, it was time to finally let it all go. After all, this was one place I know he was not coming back to. In fact, he wasn’t coming back. Ever.
We turned into the main street for the Crashdown. My family restaurant and even after years of catering greasy, green alien themed food, the charm still hadn’t worn off. I remembered Maria and me in that ridiculous uniform and the stupid antennae and Michael cracking jokes at our expenses. But he’d liked it.
I’d see him coming in from God-knows-where at all times of the day to just sit in a booth and nurse a Coke and check us out with his jade gaze until we were both pink in the face and ready to die. And after that one day, it was all over. I’d changed. I was ready to go. And even after all these years, the image of him is still imprinted in my brain.
“Mom, what’re you glaring at?” Came a small voice from my side. I snapped out of it. Breathed in deeply, tried to banish the never-ending cloud of uncertainty.
“Nothing, love. I was just…thinking.”
”About when we go back?" he asked expectantly.
“No, Alex. Not that.” I got out through clenched teeth. I’d give my life for my son and I almost had, but there were times I wished I’d never even met his father.
“Sure, Mom.” he quietened down and rubbed at his face.
He’d never been here before. Even after Alex was born, I’d never dared show my face to the town I’d turned my back on. I couldn’t face coming back to all the disappointed looks. My parents had flown out to meet us instead. I could almost smell an odd mixture of my Dad’s old aftershave, baby powder and my mother’s herbal tea. I felt the onslaught of earlier memories too. Me, six, in a playground wearing a stupid, purple cupcake dress and a little boy staring at me in wonder.
“Here we are.” I chirped, parking the car.
As usual, the place was filling up rapidly. Dread churned through me. After ALL these years, instead of stealthily slipping in through the barbwires, I was entering accompanied by a marching band and my very own cheerleaders. Gah!
“Wow!” Alex commented. He’d seen very few girls without Goth make-up and short hair. The nice, long blonde tresses tied up in purple ribbons and long tanned limbs weren’t really a sight he was too familiar with.
“Wow!” he repeated.
I shook out the hair that had snuck in the collar of my top. Just for the hell of it, I’d dressed partly Goth today, pulling on leather pants and a short, cherry top that bared my mid-riff and darkly lined eyes. Dark red lipstick, minus the usual gloss and hair gelled and left loose down my shoulders and back. Not the Elizabeth Parker that had exited Roswell in 2002.
“C’mon, Alex. Time to kick some skeletons loose.”
He shrieked with excitement. “Real skeletons, Mom?”
“Absolutely real and the ones with teeth!” I promised and grinned down at him.
He was dressed in his usual black cargoes, a backward cap and another black sleeveless top. My heart ached. He did NOT fit in this town. Not the way I had.
He looked at me quizzically, when I left the windows slightly down. “Mom?” he gestured toward them, appalled at my carelessness.
“Relax, honey!” I snorted. "Nothing’s gonna happen to it here.”
He gazed up at me, his eyes solemn and adorable. Despite myself, my heart melted all over again. My beautiful baby. And they told me he was abnormal. Fuck them all.
“I’ll say I told you so.” he warned.
I reached down and took his cold, little paw. Despite his outward calm, he grabbed my fingers. I could relate; it was my own house and I was nervous as hell.
“Do your worst.” I dangled the challenge down to him.
He smiled, really smiled as he took in the neon spaceship. “Cool!”
“Yeah, cool!” I sighed. Time to go. “Ready?” I inhaled a deep waft of air. He did the same and then squared his shoulders and my sappy heart nearly burst with pride.
“Ready.”
I bent down for a quick hug and then I reached for the door. The instant I pushed it inward, someone else from the other side pushed it open.
We stared at each other, the sound level falling and the shocked gasps notwithstanding. Our eyes met, held and melded. It started from my toes, shook my calves and made its way to a buzz in my brain. I felt the best feeling in the world. I’m home.