Demanding Heaven's Gate (CC,ADULT) Ch 22A - AN 11/4/04 [WIP]

This is the place where fics that have not been updated in the past three months will be moved until the author asks a mod to move them back to an active board.

Moderators: Anniepoo98, ISLANDGIRL5, truelovepooh, Forum Moderators

User avatar
Pathos
Enthusiastic Roswellian
Posts: 49
Joined: Tue May 28, 2002 1:13 pm
Location: Chicago, IL

Post by Pathos »

Hello Party People!

RL has finally let up enough to let me get back into the rhythm of my writing...yeah. I'm keeping my fingers crossed too. :roll: :lol:

Hope y'all had a wonderful holiday season and a Happy New Year!

And now, on with the story....

Pathos


Posted in two parts due to length


********Part 16*************************

Letting the cigarette dangle haphazardly from her lips, Serena slid her lighter deftly into the pack of Salems and then shoved it into her jacket pocket, making a mental note to stop at a gas station for more on the way back to the motel. She took a much needed drag of nicotine before opening her eyes to still Ava’s restless shifting with a glare. Exhaling slowly, she watched the steady stream of smoke drift through the air, reaching for something as it faded from sight. Returning the cigarette to her lips, she took another drag.

Inale, exhale.

There was something almost soothing in the sheer repetition of the movement, something that lent a fragile legitimacy to the prosaic act of breathing.

“Serena?”

Inhale, exhale.

“You ok?”

Inhale, exh… Was she ok? The question cut sharply into her forced calm and Serena gave a bitter snort of laughter. Was she ok? She’d never be ok again. Which didn’t matter, she told herself coldly. She didn’t need to be ok to get this done.

Taking another long drag, Serena focused on the phantom relief of the nicotine as it finally saturated her bloodstream, taking the fuckin’ edge off forty eight hours gone without anything resembling sleep. She relaxed. At least enough to ignore Ava’s presence for the next few minutes…seconds.

Serena pinched the cigarette more tightly between her fingers and forced her impatience with the blonde aside. She could deal with her for a little while longer. A very little while longer. She’d have to if she was going to get her hands on Rath anytime soon. Her lip curled in disgust. Predictable as ever, going after the fucking King. Zan, Max…made no difference to him as long as he ended up with that seal. At least his little jaunt to the alien Mecca made more sense now, she thought to herself. And now that she knew what he wanted, she planned to be there when he made a grab for it.

It suited her suddenly, waiting him out. Seemed a damn sight better than following his ass all over the country, getting nowhere fast.

Now she just had to convince the Roswell Contingent to go along with her. She was all too aware that she couldn’t fight them and Rath all at the same time. She needed them to trust her, at least enough to work with her. Which meant that she had to use Ava’s connection to Liz. Serena almost choked on her sudden, bitter amusement. If was funny. Really, it was. She needed to trust Ava. Easier said than done.

Have to give the Stepford Wife credit, Serena decided brutally. Always working some angle. If it wasn't making Zan feel responsible for her it was making sure she was just useful enough not to be thrown away. Much as she'd like to write the blonde off as dead weight, she as all too aware that without Ava all she had to recommend herself to Liz Parker was her own first impression. Serena grimaced lightly at the thought and braced herself for what was to come. Inhale, exhale. Keep breathing and get this the fuck over with.

Slanting an assessing glance at the blonde in the passenger seat Serena shook her head at her own folly. This new plan seemed as ridiculous as the last one. And just as doomed. Trusting Ava…working with people she didn’t know, and probably wouldn’t like…she let out a derisive snort. It was a fucking joke!

And it’s your only option, so get a fucking grip, Serena ordered herself. Yeah. Easier said than done.

Ava pulled her tongue ring between her teeth, absently chewing the metal as she stared at The Crashdown’s flying saucer. They were no closer to it than they had been twenty minutes ago when they’d pulled into this spot, but if Serena had noticed the oddity of sitting there in silence, half a block away she gave no indication. Clearing her throat, she tried to get Serena’s attention. But the other girl simply lit another cigarette from her quickly dwindling pack. At this rate, they’d both have cancer before they even saw Liz, Ava thought, swallowing her frustrated sigh.

“Are, uh…are we plannin’ on goin’ in? Sometime soon?” Ava ventured, unsurprised when Serena’s silent, perfunctory nod was her only response. She’d been like this for the last two days, focused and aloof, speaking only to question her about what she knew before falling silent again to mull over…whatever the fuck she was mulling over. It was driving her ‘round the fucking bend. Ava glanced out the passenger side window feeling two days worth of anxious frustration rushing to the surface. Just like Zan. God forbid, I know what the fuck we’re plannin’, she thought resentfully. It’s only my ass on the line with Rath. It’s only me you’re gonna use to get in with these people. It’s only me…

“You wanna go, feel free.”

Ava searched Serena’s blank expression warily, a strange, cold fear sliding along her spine as she wondered if that had been Serena’s plan all along. To cut her loose so that she could do - whatever it was she was planning to do - on her own. Ava shook her head, hating her own weakness, and helpless in its grip. “I…I didn’ say that…I’m just sayin…ya know, we might wanna…” she stuttered, her mind reeling with the possibility that she was about to be left behind.

Serena ignored the other girls rambling and crushed her cigarette out with a mournful sigh. “Let’s get this freak show on the road,” she said grimly.


***********************


“I thought you were supposed to be making yourself un-available to Isabel,” Liz muttered, glaring unfairly at Alex and grabbing his half-finished glass of orange soda so she could continue to wipe down the counter. The last two days had dragged on until the anticipation of waiting for Ava to contact them had mutated into a tense suspicion when she hadn’t. “The least you could have done was wait until you had all the information,” she muttered, sending a distracted glance across the street to the UFO Center. She’d been doing that ever since she’d seen Max and Michael striding through the front door an hour ago, neither of them looking particularly happy.

“There was no more information to get,” Alex said plaintively, reaching for his glass only to have Liz dump it into the plastic bus container with the rest of the dirty dishes.

“Whatever,” Liz muttered, her mind drifting from the conversation when the door opened across the street. She exhaled, crestfallen when it was only Brody heading out.

“Hey, I just reported the facts,” Alex continued. “There could still be an explanation. I guess…” he hedged when he noticed Liz’s dejected expression. He threw Maria a questioning look, but she just shrugged and handed him another orange cola to replace the one he’d lost.

“Maria, did Michael mention…”

“For the fifth time, Liz, no. He didn’t say why Max wanted to see him. And for the fifteenth time, staring across the street isn’t going to give you bionic hearing.”

Rolling her eyes, Liz turned to Maria. “I know that, I just…”

“Want to make sure they don’t decide to do anything stupid,” Alex and Maria chorused.

“I said dangerous,” Liz corrected, grabbing Alex’s soda glass and wiping the counter harder.

Maria sighed and sat down next to Alex wishing that someone, anyone would walk into the diner so that Liz would have something to do besides wipe the counter. “Look, I know you’re worried here - and don’t bite my head off - but tell me again, why do we care about pyromaniac with a thing against morgues?”

“Anyone I know?”

“Oh my God!” Maria gasped, swiveling in her seat as Serena’s voice sounded in conjunction with the tinkling of the bell over the door.

Liz blinked at her reflection in the countertop and then looked up, her eyes widening as Serena strode into the restaurant, looking supremely unconcerned by everyone’s reaction to her presence.

After checking to make sure that Maria wasn’t hyperventilating, Alex turned to the two girls standing just a few feet away. After Isabel’s account of the destruction she had wrought he was almost disappointed to find Serena looking so coolly composed, almost…normal. Her face was completely free of any painful looking piercings, and unlike the jarring black and pink highlights that colored Ava’s hair, Serena’s curls were a simple, natural brunette. Her dark blue gaze was steady, reflecting none of the uncertainty that shimmered in Ava’s cerulean eyes. Instead, Serena seemed confident, knowing…Alex swallowed hard, his cheeks flushing a heated crimson when he realized that she was fully aware of his perusal. And probably had been the whole time.

Maria stood up, her eyes narrowed suspiciously on Serena. Not much for color, she decided, taking in the unrelenting black of her outfit. Even the harsh makeup lining her eyes and lips was dark and foreboding. She lifted her chin, refusing to be intimidated by some New York reject even as she wished fervently that Michael would get here for his shift already.

“Serena,” Liz finally breathed out, glancing quickly across the street. She was suddenly grateful that Max and Michael were holed up at the UFO Center and not here…or maybe not. Serena seemed much calmer today but she was no less unapproachable. Vaguely unsettled, Liz slid around the counter to stand before her.

Serena nodded. “Liz,” she replied, letting out an exasperated sigh when everyone continued to stare at her in silence. Idly she wondered if she’d sprouted another head in the last three minutes. Considering the freaked out uniforms and alien décor, she’d probably fit in better if she had. “You people gonna start snappin’ picture’s?” she asked, sharply breaking the silence.

“You said you were gonna be nice,” Ave reminded Serena uneasily.

“I am bein’ nice.”

Alex let out a strangled snort of laughter and then cleared his throat, falling silent even before Liz shot him a look. He wasn’t so sure Serena was kidding.

“This aint nice,” Ava pointed out, rolling her eyes in exasperation when Serena continued to ignore her. “Are you even listenin’?”

“Ta you? No.”

Liz winced sympathetically as Ava shrank back a step, reacting to the animosity Serena hadn’t completely disguised within the calmness of her voice. Not just calm, Liz amended, cold. Glacially cold. She glanced from Serena to Ava and then back again. She’d been telling Max for two days that they just needed to give Serena a chance to explain herself. Now that the moment was here, she somehow doubted it was going to happen the way she’d planned. “What are you doing here?” she questioned, grateful that her voice was steady even if her nerves were not.

Ava shrugged, keeping her eyes fixed on Serena’s back as she tried to decide if it would be better for her to answer or stay quiet. “We came ta see you,” she finally murmured.

Liz stared. “Me? Why?”

“Figured we may a gotten off on the wrong foot,” Serena muttered dryly. “Thought maybe you could help.”

Might have gotten off on the wrong foot? That’s the understatement of the year,” Maria muttered, taking an uneasy step back when Serena let out an irritated sigh. “You’re not gonna blow me up now, are you?”

Taking a deep breath and reminding herself that their mistrust wasn’t unexpected...or even unearned, Serena shook her head. “I save my grand dramatic gestures for places like museums an’ such,” she informed Maria lightly.

“We’ve only got the one,” Alex pointed out dryly, nodding across the street.

“Had, actually,” Maria corrected.

“So, I s’pose sayin’ it won’t happen again aint gonna help much, huh?” Serena sighed.

Liz bit her lip, surprised by the small, embarrassed smile that flitted briefly across Serena’s face.

Maria studied the brunette frankly. “What won’t happen again? You blowing up a museum or you trying to kill Michael?” she questioned.

Serena opened her mouth and then closed it again, wondering if there was a right answer to that question.

“She wasn’t tryin’ to kill Michael,” Ava defended uncertainly when Serena didn’t respond. “She thought he was Rath.”

“I don’t care,” Maria replied succinctly. “It was Michael she almost blew up.”

“I am sorry about that,” Serena interrupted before the conversation got away from her. “I didn’ know Rath had a clone othawise I’da made sure it was him before I blasted. Won’t happen again.” She chanced a look at Liz, surprised by the expression of reserved curiosity. It was a stark contrast to Maria and Alex’s clear suspicion.

Liz nodded slowly. “Why do you want to kill Rath?” she asked, wanting to hear the answer from Serena herself. Beyond needing a concrete reason to trust her, Liz wanted to understand how she and someone like Serena could have been friends in that other life.

Serena held Liz’s gaze, well aware that this was going to make or break her. And well aware there was no damn way to sugar coat it for the Little House crowd. Fuck ‘em, she decided, forgetting the last two days of planning in a desperate rush of temper. She raised her chin. “Because Rath’s a murderer and he deserves to die.”

Liz shivered. Serena’s tone was unforgiving, uncaring and laced with a brittleness that should have been out of place. Instead, Liz felt an understanding sympathy tug at her heart while Ava’s words replayed in her head. Because he killed Zan. “This isn’t the way,” she began softly.

Serena’s brows furrowed and she shook her head, nonplussed by the unwelcome show of concern. “It’s the only way,” she contradicted sharply, shoving her hair away from her face. The air in the diner was too thick, suddenly. Too warm.

“You can’t just wander the streets of Roswell trying to kill someone!” Maria burst out.

“Serena, she’s right, you can’t,” Liz interjected. “You’ll draw attention to everybody and…you can’t. There has to be another way,” she said firmly.

Ava swallowed hard and looked at Serena, afraid that the two day reprieve from her temper was finally over. But the explosion she’d been dreading never came. Instead Serena remained strangely quiet, her expression subdued as she…listened to Liz. She hadn’t thought Serena capable of something as mundane as listening. And even though she wasn’t listening to her, if she’d finally decided to be rational then maybe… “Serena, Liz is right. Maybe…”

“Shut it,” Serena ordered Ava softly, beginning to realize that she’d been played. She wasn’t surprised, really, that Ava had brought her here just so her friends could convince her to back off, but she was goddamn tired of the argument. And she’d only just realized that the café wasn’t nearly as big as she’d originally thought. Serena closed her eyes, ignoring Ava’s indignant huff as she tried to order her thoughts enough to placate Liz and get the hell outta this ridiculous diner sooner rather than later. All the alien kitch was making her sick.

Ava drew herself up, glaring at Serena’s back, suddenly sick and tired of everyone taking out their frustration on her. She looked at Liz, and then Maria and Alex, buoyed by their clear sympathy. “This isn’t just your decision. I’m part of this, too and I don’t think we should...”

“I don’t care what you think,” Serena pointed out, wishing someone would open the damn door. She hadn’t felt this closed-in in years.

Ava raised her chin defiantly. “Fine,” she snapped. “Don’t listen ta me. But what ‘bout Zan? You think he’d want you doing this?” She questioned silkily, feeling a small thrill of triumph at Serena’s painful gasp.

“Don’t you dare tell me what Zan wants,” Serena said, her voice dangerously soft as she gave Ava her full attention. “You aint in any position to tell me anythin’ ‘bout Zan.”

Ava swallowed hard, grateful that she wasn’t facing Serena alone. “Why you snappin’ at me? God, Serena you aint the only one that lost him,” she pointed out in soft frustration. And then she took a step back, recognizing her mistake in Serena’s darkly incredulous expression.

Liz froze, almost holding her breath as she watched something other than cool aloofness dust Serena’s features. Uneasily she realized that she should have called Max before now.

Serena took a deep breath. And then another as forty eight hours trying to control a waking nightmare began to gnaw at the last fraying rope of her sanity. Lost him? She wasn’t fucking serious! “Lost him?” Serena questioned derisively. “Lost him? You got some nerve talkin’ bout what you ‘lost’. Lemme remind you a somethin’ Cotton Candy. I lost him. You threw him away. Unda a truck ta be ‘xact, so like I said, shut it. I aint got the patience for your grievin’ widow act today,” she bit out, ignoring Maria’s horrified expression and Liz’s indignant gasp. Fuck what they thought of her. Fuck this whole ridiculous plan. Fuck everything, she thought, without any real rancor. She just wanted this over with. Didn’t even really care how anymore.

Ava flinched as if she’d been struck and took another hasty step back, unable to look away from Serena’s unforgiving blue eyes. She’d always known, but to hear it…she shook her head, hating her tears even more than Serena did.

Liz stared, shocked by the malice of the attack. There was no doubt in her mind that Serena had known exactly what she was saying and what it would do to Ava. Rushing to the blonde alien’s side, Liz glared at the brunette. “Leave her alone,” she hissed. “You don’t understand…”

“No,” Serena interrupted coldly, turning her attention to Liz. “I don’t. I don’t undastand the fractured fairy tale she insists on livin in an’ I don’t undastand how his death became her tragedy,” she muttered in disgust. She swallowed hard as the reality of her own words rang in her ears. His death. His death. His death…Serena could feel the walls constricting around her and struggled against the desperate urge to run. From everything.

“Liz, it’s awright, just let it go,” Ava rushed out, wiping at her eyes. Pushing Serena into defending her bitterness wasn’t an option, not when she was unwilling to test Liz’s friendship. After today Liz’s friendship might be all she had left.

But Liz had already subsided, shocked into forgetting her temper by the tears that glittered in Serena’s eyes. “Who was he to you?” Liz asked, before she could think better of it. “You came to me, remember?” she pressed, when Serena looked away. She shrugged helplessly. “I want to help, but…”

Serena took a deep breath, barely aware of meeting Liz’s forthright gaze as she wondered how one goddamn question could hurt so much. It may have been a testament to her exhaustion, but she almost believed that the other girl did want to help. Once again the unexpected show of compassion galled her, shamed her and she found herself fighting harder to control months of unshed tears. “Everything,” she said, her voice a bare whisper and too weak in her own ears. Her mouth twisted briefly in self disgust and she cleared her throat, matching Liz’s blunt perusal and daring her to say another word. “Zan was everythin’ to me,” she clarified defiantly.

Liz nodded, her heart aching in sudden commiseration. Serena had been in love with him, she realized, and losing him had devastated her. It was clear in the familiar despair that colored the other girls wide eyed gaze, lending a desperate fragility to her whole expression. She could cover it in all the anger she wanted to but Liz couldn’t help but recognize the yawning emptiness that animated her every move. “Right,” Liz breathed out, looking uneasily at Ava. “Right.”

“Look, I aint here to argue,” Serena said, pressing a tired hand to her temple. God, why did everything have to be so fucking difficult?

Liz nodded, as unwilling as Serena suddenly appeared to be for this to degenerate into a fight. “So why are you here?” she ventured.

Serena took a moment to regain her control, beyond grateful for the shift in conversation. Maybe the cosmos had finally decided to cut her some slack. “Ava said you’re the one ta talk ta if we wanna smooth things ova wit’ the…king,”

“You want me to…smooth things over with Max?” Liz asked.

Serena took a deep breath. “Yeah,” she repeated numbly. “Max.”

Liz exhaled slowly as the tension began to ease. Even Maria seemed more inclined to compassion now that Serena was actually talking. She sent a cautious glance across the street and chewed her lip indecisively. She was unwilling to break the sudden truce, but she had to let Max know something was going on. Before he figured it out for himself, if he hadn’t already. “I’ve got to go…check the kitchen,” she said lamely. “Just…talk to Alex for a second.”

“Thanks, Liz,” Alex muttered, looking desperately at Maria for an acceptable topic of conversation.

Serena raised her brows, watching Liz hurry back through the swinging door before she turned to look at Alex. “Check the kitchen?” she inquired sardonically. She didn’t even care about his answer, she just needed a few more seconds to get her control back, maybe convince herself that the room wasn’t closing in on her and she wasn’t about to be crushed between two garishly painted alien murals. She took a deep breath, and then reminded herself to exhale.

Alex opened his mouth, then closed it again. Then opened it. “I, uh…why’d you burn down a morgue?” He swallowed, his throat closing as Serena’s blue eyes narrowed on him. Never go with the first thing that pops into your head, he thought to himself, never go with the first thing that pops into your head… “I, I just meant…people are curious, you know? A morgue?”

Serena shivered involuntarily, fighting the memory that wanted to disrupt her brittle self control. Cold rooms and cold tables and even colder touches…she shook her head sharply. “Didn’t do it,” she said flatly, casting a longing glance behind her at the door. She needed to get the hell out of here. Soon.

Maria rolled her eyes. “Look, Alex ran a background check. We know all about it so you can stop lying.”

Alex closed his eyes, wishing desperately to be somewhere other than here. “Thanks, Maria,” he muttered under his breath, opening his eyes to Serena’s penetrating gaze.

“Background check, huh?” Serena asked, almost gratefully. This kinda shit she could deal with. “I’m almost impressed. How long’d it take to get inta the police database?”

Alex relaxed, surprised that Serena seemed to be taking the news in stride. “Half hour,” he said modestly.

“Mmmm. Like I said, almost impressed,” Serena said dismissively, turning once again to the alien mural on the wall. Her brows drew together and she shook her head, caught somewhere between amusement and disgust.

Alex’s eyes narrowed, his discomfort forgotten at her insult. “Excuse…you’re almo…oh, really?” he sputtered. “And how long would it take you?”

“First off, I’d neva do somethin’ like that. It’d be wrong,” Serena said, her expression dramatically innocent as she returned her attention to Alex. “An’ secon’ it’d neva take me half a fuckin’ hour.”

Maria cleared her throat, interrupting Alex’s indignation. “I don’t think the point is how long it took him, the point is that you burned down a morgue,” she pointed out.

Serena gritted her teeth. Read the fuckin’ report, damn it. “Actchally,” she corrected sweetly. “I was questioned. An’ I had a alibi so no charges were filed. If your checkin’ was all that, you’da found that out.”

“You may have had an alibi but the detective didn’t think someone running an auto stripping ring was all that reliable,” Alex replied dryly.

“But he couldn’t prove othawise, now could he?” Serena mocked.

Ava rolled her eyes. “An’ this is her bein’ nice.”

“Shut it,” Serena muttered, glaring Ava once again into silence before she glanced impatiently at the swinging door leading to the back of the café.

Maria’s brows drew together at the byplay. She looked at Ava, who had silently settled herself in the booth across from the counter and then Serena, who was ignoring Ava and watching the swinging door through narrowed eyes. “Don’t take this the wrong way but…how the hell did you two end up working together?”

Serena glanced at Ava. “Bad karma,” she muttered.


********************


“UFO Center, may I help you?”

Liz exhaled slowly, her anxiety dwindling to a memory as Max’s warm tone washed over her. He was being completely professional, but somehow just hearing his voice seemed to settle her nerves. “It’s me,” she said softly.

“Hey.” Max smiled, relaxing into his chair as the nagging sense of uneasiness he’d been fighting faded to the back of his mind. And then he straightened, tensing with the realization that she wouldn’t be calling in the middle of the day unless something was wrong. “What’s going on?”

“Ok, Max do not…”

“Has that ever worked?” Max interrupted, his voice tight.

Liz shook her head silently. Here goes nothing. “Serena and Ava just walked in the door,” she blurted. “But…”

“I’ll be right there.”

Liz stared at the phone gone dead in her hand. “Thanks for not freaking out,” she muttered, glancing up as the back door opened, then closed and Michael swept past her on his way to the kitchen. She threw the phone back on the hook and made a mad grab for his t-shirt, hoping to catch him before he could look through the order window.

“What the…” Michael froze and turned to Liz as he pointed at the pass-through. “What the hell is she doing here?” he asked, jerking his shirt from Liz’s fingers and heading for the front without waiting for a reply.
The fact that we are fools is duly noted...
But must that be our epitaph?

-SRC


I'd be an idiot if I weren't less than pleased about being doomed.

- Warren Zevon
User avatar
Pathos
Enthusiastic Roswellian
Posts: 49
Joined: Tue May 28, 2002 1:13 pm
Location: Chicago, IL

Post by Pathos »

********Part 16 continued**********


Bad Karma. Maria choked back a nervous giggle, unable to decide if Serena was joking or not. Shrugging, she decided to let it go. “Right. So anyway, I take it you didn’t know about…that you didn’t know…”

“That there’s a whole notha set that looks just like Zan’s?” Serena let out a put upon sigh. “No. Ava here has issues wit act’ally warnin’ a person ‘bout shit they might consida important.”

Maria blinked, her gaze moving from Serena to Ava and back again. Though her voice had been soft, there was an accusation that Maria caught, and Ava couldn’t help but understand. She shook her head. “This is incredible. You want us to trust you, but you don’t even trust each other.”

Serena shrugged at her. “You know what they say, keep your friends close…”

“And your enemies closer.” Michael finished the quote and then watched Serena shove herself away from the counter to confront him. She was a half second behind him in raising her hand and he smiled faintly, well aware that he’d caught her off guard. And that gave him the upper hand. “Surprised?” he gloated.

Serena shrugged with practiced nonchalance. She’d be damned if he intimidated her. “Always su’prised to see your particular model walkin’ upright.”

Maria gasped, torn between the hysterical urge to laugh and the equally desperate urge to run for cover.

“Ok, everyone just calm down,” Liz ventured, hurrying around Michael as visions of the Crashdown ending up like the UFO Center flashed through her brain. “Michael…”

“Michael?” Michael parroted in disbelief. “What do you mean, Michael?”

One corner of Serena’s mouth lifted into a brief smile. “I’ll lower mine, if you lower yours,” she offered baldly, so focused on Rath’s dupe that she didn’t even register the bell sounding as the front door opened.

“How about you lower yours first, and we’ll go from there,” Max suggested quietly, halting just behind Serena. He took a quick glance around the restaurant, his heartbeat tripping crazily in his chest even as the logical part of his brain recognized that no on was hurt, and even more surprising, there appeared to be no property damage. Forcing a calming breath into his lungs, Max looked at Liz, silently asking for an explanation.

Serena stiffened, feeling even more claustrophobic with Max crowded behind her. She shifted quickly to the side, ignoring Michael’s triumphant expression and giving herself some much needed breathing room. She turned to Max, fully expecting a confrontation, and more than a little surprised to find that he wasn’t even looking at her. He was looking at Liz.

Max, Serena decided idly, wasn’t nearly as good as Zan was at keeping his feelings from the enemy. “Aint you the intagalactic diplomat,” she mused softly, watching Zan’s dupe watch Liz Parker. Her throat tightened and she looked away.

Max jerked his gaze back to Serena, surprised to note a sad understanding wash over her features before she looked back at Liz. His stomach clenched and his power vibrated crazily against his palm when he realized that he’d given himself away.

Serena shrugged, dropping her hand slowly as Max’s features hardened. “Truce,” she offered quickly, reminding herself that baiting him wasn’t doing her any good. “That’s what I came here for anyway. Course…now it’s his turn,” she pointed out, nodding back at Michael.

Michael glared. “I don’t…”

“Do it,” Max ordered, ignoring Michael’s put upon expression and focusing on Serena. She’d turned to face him, placing herself directly in front of Liz in the process. And as small as she was, he found that gesture as threatening as her raised hand had been. His eyes narrowed on her face, only half aware of the possibility that he was overreacting. . “What are you doing here?” He asked, his voice hard.

After an assessing glance at Michael, Liz took a deep breath and edged closer to Max in an attempt to ease some of the tension. “Max she came here to explain…”

“What? Why she almost killed me?” Michael interjected.

“Thought you was someone else,” Serena muttered with a careless shrug.

Michael clenched his jaw, feeling his temper spark at her attitude. “Look…”

“You know, I don’t really care why you did it,” Max snapped implacably. “We were almost exposed because of your mistake and I’m not willing to take a chance on that happening again.”

Serena nodded. “I can undastand that, but I aint the one that turned that into a town meetin’,” she reminded him, nodding at Michael. “I was just takin’ a look. He turned it into…”

Michael’s eyes widened in furious disbelief. “Me? You’re unbelievable! If you…” he cut himself off quickly, glaring over Serena’s head at the front door.

Liz’s head whipped around, her hair falling over one shoulder as the bell above the door jingled merrily, causing everyone to freeze.

Brad Freeman halted, feeling oddly exposed as the teenagers gathered in the middle of the diner regarded him with thinly veiled suspicion. “Are you…open?” For thirty years this place had run like clockwork, but lately business hours were up for grabs.

Liz nodded. “Of course, Mr. Freeman, Maria will be with you in a sec.” She shoved Maria toward the customer and then turned back to the group, lowering her voice to a pointed whisper. “Ok, you guys we all need to just…stay calm. We can all sit down and discuss this like rational…”

“Human beings?” Serena asked lightly. She ignored Michael’s glare and slid into the booth next to Ava, pulling out her pack of Salems. She shot the blonde an annoyed glance when the sharp elbow caught her in the ribs.

Ava nodded at the sign, praying that Serena would just go along with her. For once.

No Smoking. Figured. Sighing heavily, Serena left her cigarette unlit and returned her attention to Max and the God-awful yellow vest he was wearing. She tilted her head curiously, looking across the street as it occurred to her where he’d come from and why he was wearing it. She cleared her throat lightly, breaking into the silent argument he was now having with Liz. “You work at the UFO Centa?”

Max jerked his frustrated gaze from Liz’s pleading expression and threw an absent nod in Serena’s direction.

“As a…display?” Serena inquired politely, keeping her voice low enough not to completely freak him out.

Max’s eyes narrowed on Serena. She wasn’t actually looking at him, but strangely enough, she wasn’t really looking at anything else either. “No,” he bit out, her seeming amusement grating on his already taut nerves. He could feel Liz staring a hole through his had, practically begging him to have a little patience, but he stubbornly ignored the impulse. Giving Serena the benefit of the doubt wasn’t high on his to-do list just yet.

Serena shrugged. “Just curious.” The lack of a sense of humor must be genetic she decided. Zan woulda been ready to kill her for finding anything even remotely funny at the moment. He’d undoubtedly be bitchin’ about keepin’ her mind focused on what was important and…Serena stilled, her whole being gone cold with the stark remembrance that Zan wouldn’t be bitchin’ at her about anything ever again.

“Ok, look, let’s all just sit down and talk about this. Serena, you said that you wanted to start over, right? You thought you maybe we all got off on the wrong foot,” Liz reminded the other brunette desperately as she sidled toward the booth, ushering Max in that direction as she went and ignoring the incredulous expression that lit his face.

Got off on the wrong foot! Max sighed, already giving in to the pressure of Liz’s body against his. As soon as she touched him there was an almost forcible easing of his tension, but strangely, that pushed him even more off balance than he already was.

Nodding at Michael, he followed him into the booth before pulling Liz down to squeeze in next to him. “Well? Let’s get off on the right foot,” Max challenged Serena, barely aware of Alex pulling up a chair and sitting at the end of the table. “Why are you here?”

Serena sighed, watching curiously as Liz let her hand rest briefly on Max’s shoulder as she took her seat. The other girl didn’t hold contact for long, but then, Serena mused tiredly, she probably didn’t have to. Not with the way her hip was now pressed against his.

“I’m sorry,” Liz began when Serena remained silent, worried that the other girl would take Max’s arrival as the cue to bolt. She ignored the brief flare of Max’s indignation and kept her eyes focused on Serena. Her own emotions reeled crazily from a desperate hope to a dark feeling of futility and she pressed closer to Max., unconsciously seeking his reassurance. “Serena…”

“Nothin’ ta be sorry for. I’da done the same.”

Liz nodded slowly, surprised but half convinced that she would have.

“That doesn’t answer my question,” Max pointed out coolly, looking for some crack in Serena’s calm veneer. But there was none, Serena Fallon was coolly possessed and capable. And for some reason that worried him more than the uncontrolled anger she’d first displayed.

“Wanted ta clear up a few things,” Serena said, already gritting her teeth against the sound of Zan’s voice skewed by that fucked up, Greg Brady accent.

“Like,” Max prodded.

Sighing heavily, Serena continued. If she spoke, at the very least she wouldn’t have to listen to him. “Like the fact that the otha night was a…mistake. One I don’ gen’rally make.”

Max gave a small snort. “That’s comforting.”

“Max!” Liz hissed, glancing uneasily at Serena. She was surprised by the half smile that briefly twisted the other girls darkly colored lips.

“I’m sure,” Serena conceded. “But, all evidence to the contrary, I aint in the habit a destroyin’ private prope’ty and attemptin’ to kill people I aint eva met.”

“So…what? You came here to apologize and promise never to do it again?” Max asked sarcastically, as surprised as Liz was by the force of his own temper. He was almost aching for the fight he could see that Serena was more than willing to give him. His gaze locked with hers for the first time since he’d walked into the Crash and he felt a brief flash of confusion as he struggled to define the emotion lurking in their blue depths. But then she looked away, the deep, steadying breath she took reining in her temper just when he thought she’d let it loose. Max’s brow furrowed uneasily and he glanced at Liz, already feeling the compassion he read so easily in her eyes. What…

“Kinda,” Serena answered, forcing her emotions back under control. It wouldn’t do to let this situation get the best of her. She knew better than to give away the upper hand. “Roswell’s your turf, I get that. Consida this a courtesy.” She shrugged magnanimously. “Ta let ya know what I’m about.”

“Murder?” Michael questioned sardonically.

“Justice,” Serena corrected coldly.

“Revenge,” Max added softly, the beginning of an odd understanding coloring his judgement as Liz pressed more closely against him.

Serena rolled her eyes. “Look, we can argue the fuckin’ semantics all damn day. Aint gonna change the outcome. We all want the same thing, and it’d be betta for all a us if we work togetha.”

Michael’s eyes slowly followed Brad Freeman out the door and then he turned back to Serena. “What makes you think we want to kill someone? And what makes you think we’re gonna let you kill someone?” he asked, leaning across the table.

Serena smiled slowly and leaned forward to meet Michael’s challenge. “What makes you think you can stop me, chump?”

Michael’s fists clenched under the table as he forcibly restrained the urge to show her how he could stop her. His vision narrowed to the target in front of him and he barely registered Max’s kick as he struggled against the sudden heated rush of his power.

Maria let out a heavy sigh and pulled an extra chair over next to Alex. “Thank God for takeout…whoa!”

The glass sugar container vibrated angrily in the corner of the table and then exploded with a sharp POP! Michael sat back in surprise as glass and sugar blew outward, then stilled, frozen for a moment in time before smoothly regaining its original form.

Liz stared, her breath held painfully as she looked from Max’s angry perusal of Michael, to Michael’s shocked expression. Forcing herself to breath normally, she followed his wide eyed stare to Serena’s calmly extended hand and then up to the calm mask of her features. “How’d you do that?” she breathed out.

Serena shrugged, lowering her hand. “S’called control. I’d tell the Neanderthal ova there to look it up but I’m havin’ serious doubts ‘bout his ability to spell it.”

Michael glared at Serena, his ears burning in angry embarrassment. “Listen! I don’t know who the hell you…”

“And your worried about me givin’ your ass away,” Serena said to Max. She shook her head, hoping she didn’t have to ante up in this ridiculous pissing contest again. Once was enough to let Rath’s dupe know he didn’t have the upper hand, but if the expression on Max’s face was any indication, if she did it again he’d be exiling her from Roswell.

“Both of you give it a rest,” Max ordered between clenched teeth. “ I thought you were trying to make a better impression,” he reminded Serena. “It’s not working.”

“Max just…”

Taking a quick breath, Max forced himself to ignore the pressure of Liz’s hand on his knee, and the cold rush of her silent plea for him to listen. He placed his hand over hers, knowing he was lost even before the electric touch of her skin against his. He shook his head. “What makes you think we can even work together?” he mumbled, giving in with a sigh.

“I can if you can. We aint helpin’ no one but Rath by workin’ against each otha.”

Max nodded thoughtfully. “Uh-huh. I can see how this works for you, but what about us?” he asked, coolly polite. He clutched Liz’s fingers within his own, stilling her impulse to interrupt. They may need Serena, but he’d be damned if he went into this blind.

Serena glanced at Max’s composed features, trying to get a read on him without staring into embodiment of the Twilight Zone episode her life had become. Finally, she looked at Ava and nodded. Did he really think she wouldn’t be prepared for ‘what’s in it for me’? “Ava…”

“I been talkin’ ta Rath, keepin’ track a his plans an’ I’ve got information about…things,” Ava muttered obediently.

“And why should we believe you any more than her?” Michael sneered. “Maybe you’re here to pass information to Rath.”

“Ava aint likely ta lie ta your face, she’s betta wit the lies a omission,” Serena muttered, lightly tamping the butt of her unlit cigarette on the table.

“So far, all you’ve done is tell me why we want Ava on our side,” Max pointed out, studying Serena’ s attempt at nonchalance. He might’ve bought it if it weren’t for the nervous shredding of her cigarette against the table.

Touche. “I aint useless,” Serena replied, unwilling to delve deeper into the issue of Ava’s loyalty. If it came down to a choice she wasn’t entirely certain the blonde would end up on her side.

“We’ve got a computer geek,” Michael pointed out, ignoring Alex’s indignant huff.

“Keep ‘em,” Serena snapped. She leaned across the table once more so that her lowered voice could be heard. “S’up ta you Your Majesty, but when Rath an’ all his little friends come lookin’ for you…prob’ly a good idea ta have as much firepowa on your side as you can musta. An’ if we’re workin’ tagetha you aint gotta worry ‘bout me exposin’ you,” Serena finished, her eyes skating across Max’s closed features.

Max snorted. “Why is it I don’t really believe that?” he muttered rhetorically. He glanced at Liz, and then looked away, hating the disappointment he read in her eyes. But there was nothing he could do. This conversation certainly hadn’t convinced him that she was right. Of course, if he were being completely honest it hadn’t really convinced him that he was right either. His frustration grew apace with his helplessness and he wished desperately that there was some way for him to be sure that the decision he was about to make was the right one.

Shrugging wearily, Serena cast a longing glance at the front door. “You decide. Eitha we help each otha or you stay outta my way an’ I’ll stay outta yours. S’all good.” Serena settled back in the booth, hoping that she looked more unconcerned than she felt.

Max sighed heavily, strangely unsettled by the fact that Serena’s gaze was focused somewhere between Liz and his left shoulder. As if looking at him was something she was unwilling to do. His eyes narrowed as he studied her aloof expression. “I don’t believe you,” he said flatly.

“You aint gotta. But you gotta know Rath’ll be comin’ for you. You an’ that seal in your head are the only reason for him ta be here,” Serena murmured, ignoring Liz’s stricken expression. “An he’ll be comin’ soona ratha than lata. I know him, I know the way he thinks an’ I can help you beat him. Plus I got someone on the inside.” She paused for a breath, recognizing the weakness of her own position. “We want the same thing an’ we can help each otha.”

“I don’t want to kill anyone,” Max argued uncomfortably. He couldn’t believe that they were even having this conversation, but Serena didn’t seem to find anything remotely odd about it. She simply nodded her understanding.

“I aint askin’ you ta kill anybody,” Serena replied. “But you’re gonna need ta defend yourself, an’ I’m willin’ ta help you do that. You got, what…seven a you?” She shook her head. “You’re gonna need all the help you can get.” Please, Serena begged silently, desperately. I need you to help me do this. Her mind rebelled against the thought but she couldn’t ignore the truth. She needed them. And no matter how exhausted she was she owed it to Zan not to give up. She owed it to him to make this work and to avenge his…death.

Max blinked, taken aback by the oddly lost expression that briefly softened Serena’s features. He glanced uneasily at Liz, pulled towards sympathy though his common sense called him a fool. He was pretty sure Michael would agree. He shook his head. “And you’d agree to go along with our decisions?” he hedged.

Serena nodded, unwilling to ruin the possibility of this working by opening her mouth. She stared at his hands where they rested on the table and took a deep breath, holding it in to steady her nerves. The very prospect of…but she guessed he wouldn’t trust her if she didn’t. Zan wouldn’t have. Nodding again, Serena focused on the necessity of this truce, on what she had to do and then exhaled slowly. “Whatta ya say?” she asked quietly, extending her hand.

Max studied her hand, surprised not by the gesture, but by the fact that Serena wasn’t even watching for his reaction. She was staring somewhere between the table and his chest. His jaw set and he reached out to clasp her fingers, shivering a little at the chill of her skin. And her desperation. He swallowed hard, shifting closer to Liz, unconsciously seeking her warmth as he fought the urge to simply drop Serena’s hand. He’d gotten flashes of emotion from people before, brushed a little too closely to someone in the grip of joy or sadness, but this was too raw, too immediate. He didn’t know what to do with this, he realized, reaching for Liz and the warm promise he always felt from her.

Michael stared at Serena’s small hand and then looked uneasily at Max as the silence stretched out. What the hell? And then he realized that Max wasn’t even looking at Serena. He cleared his throat loudly, ignoring Maria’s small gasp as he broke the strange mood that had settled over the table.

Max blinked, shaking his head as the world reminded him of its presence. And the fact that he was sitting way too close to Liz. He looked at her in silent apology, reading her own longing in the luminous depths of her eyes. He looked away as she slid to the edge of the bench, leaving him no choice but to return his attention to Serena.

There was nothing of warmth in her, only a cold desolation and a determination he’d never encountered before, not even in Michael’s headstrong quest to find home. She’d do whatever it took to get what she wanted, including, Max realized, doing as he asked. At least as long as it suited her. “Truce,” he acknowledged, not really surprised when she pulled her fingers from his before the word was completely out of his mouth. “For now,” he added quickly. He looked at Liz. Yeah, he didn’t believe it either.


**************************


Michael’s eyes narrowed on Serena’s still form, lit from above by the Motel sign that blinked a disgruntled neon red across from her room. She threw her hair over her shoulder and scanned the horizon, clearly looking for someone. Truce, my ass, he thought. Whatever else Liz had convinced Max of - and Michael was sure she’d convinced him of something – he was certain she was an enemy. He nodded, feeling vaguely vindicated when she finally stepped purposefully into the night. But he was disappointed when all she did was move to the small outside vending area and then light a cigarette, glancing impatiently around the shadowed parking lot. He shrugged, and stole a little closer, wanting to be within earshot when whoever she was meeting finally showed up. But the minutes dragged by in silence. Sighing heavily, Michael settled himself against the wall, determined to wait her out. All night if necessary.


**************************

The Seer stared up into the darkness of this night sky and sighed, her purpose frustrated by stars that spoke a language unfamiliar to her. Her dreams had been troubling and strangely unfocused, leaving her to mull over their meaning in silent confusion. It felt as if she should understand their meaning implicitly, as if she’d dreamed them before, a thousand times before. And yet she knew she’d never seen anything like this. Strange, she mused tiredly, how unfamiliar and vivid were her memories.

Briefly, she wondered if she’d served her purpose, if Fate needed nothing more of her. But if that were true, why continue the visions? Why allow her to eavesdrop on The Plan if she were to play no part in it? Here eyes fixed, unseeing, on the stars as she recalled her latest vision.

The two sisters were so alike and so different. One stood throwing stones at the House of Fate while the other waited patiently for the House to open its doors and reveal its secrets. So familiar, as if she’d lived it. Once. Seen it, perhaps. The Seer shook her head, her vision swimming strangely as the sisters’ identically dark brown hair whipped around their faces, masking features, masking purpose until they stood…still. Frozen amidst the violent will of Fate, lost in the eye of the storm…desperate and yearning and unsure…their hair a deep, deep red, masking their faces in loss and blood. They were so young, so young to be culled from innocence by necessity.

I won’t blame you when it happens.

The Seer shook her head desperately as The Fates whispered around her, their voices a rough, rising, never-ending din. Their purpose…so unclear. She swallowed tears she hadn’t tasted in decades as she stared into the silence of the night sky. Only one thing was clear, dauntingly clear. Labor had begun. She’d be born as foretold, breached and struggling. And sooner than was wise.


*************************


Alex nodded, a small smile gracing his face as he drummed his fingers against the soundboard of his guitar. The act of forcing himself to retain some semblance of dignity when all he wanted to do was shout to the world that Isabel Evans was coming on to him – him - Alex Charles Whitman was taking its toll. His head felt like it was going to explode, but he didn’t care. “...Yeah, it was a great night for me too,” he murmured to Isabel.

Liz caught Maria’s eye and grinned.

Maria’s own smile widened victoriously. Told you, she mouthed at her best friend. Project: Thaw the Ice Princess was right on schedule.

“Tonight?” Alex croaked. His mind raced for an appropriate response. An appropriate response which wasn’t the NO Liz and Maria were frantically signaling him to give. He sighed dejectedly. “I can’t.” He blinked. Why…why was a good question. “I have a, uh…” He made a face at Liz and Maria, giving in to their less than subtle whispering. “I'm studying.” He drummed his fingers faster against the guitar. “Yeah, I know. But I gotta, I've got a monstrous final in, uh…” he glanced over at Liz and Maria, his brows knitting together in confusion as he read the title of the book they were holding up. “Robert Frost?” What, he mouthed blankly at their furious denial. Oh, that made more sense. “English. Eng... English -- I've got a killer final, Mr. Broski's really puttin' the screws to us.” He nodded morosely at the phone. As if he’d rather stay and study instead of going out to play with her! He groaned silently at the image that assaulted his imagination.

Liz bit her lip, as she watched Alex’s expression grow even more defeated. She agreed with Maria that he couldn’t let Isabel walk all over him anymore, but suddenly this whole plan seemed as shallow as Maria had accused Isabel of being. And such a waste. She stood up and grabbed the phone from Alex.

“Isabel? Yeah, it’s Liz,” She smiled a little, deciding that this was going to be well worth it just to see the expression on Alex and Maria’s faces. Not to mention hearing the one on Isabel’s. “I think it’s time Alex took a break. He’s been making us study so hard since he came back from Sweden I think my brains going to explode, even if his isn’t.”

Alex gaped, feeling the beginning of a smile at the unforeseen reprieve. He refused to even look at Maria. She could yell at him later.

“So yeah, he’ll be over at your house in about a half hour.”

Alex hesistated. “I ordered food,” he remembered belatedly.

Liz shrugged. “He’s bringing…”

“Chinese,” Alex supplied.

“Chinese,” Liz finished. “Have fun tonight, but we get our study partner back tomorrow,” she told Isabel firmly before hanging up the phone. Liz turned back to Alex with a small smile. “All taken care of.”

“Liz!” Maria sputtered. “I can’t believe you just…”

“Maria, life is too short. When you’ve got the chance to be happy you should,” Liz hesitated, swallowing the emotion that wanted suddenly to choke her. “You should grab it while you can. You never know how long something’s gonna last,” she finished softly, forcing another smile for Alex’s benefit. “Just have a good time.”

Maria nodded slowly, her eyes on Liz’s face. “But don’t let her take advantage of you,” she added. Liz would have to be her next project.

Alex ducked his head, quickly deciding that telling Maria he lived for the day Isabel took advantage of him would be too much information. “Will do,” he said instead.

Maria pretended to wipe a tear from her eye as she looked at Liz. “Aww, our little boy’s all grown up,” she said, sniffling dramatically.

Alex rolled his eyes and walked them to the door. “You know I love you guys, right?”

Liz nodded. “We know,” she said, giving Alex a quick hug. “We’ll see you tomorrow.”

“And we want details, girlfriend,” Maria said, linking her arm with Liz’s and tugging her towards the Jetta.

“Their yours,” Alex promised, closing the door behind them only to pace back and forth in front of it while he waited for his food to arrive.

Fifteen minutes later Alex was heading as quickly as he could, without running, to his car, the buzz of excitement filling his head. Isabel had asked him out. She was after him. His grin widened as he slid behind the wheel. There wasn’t anything, up to and including an alien invasion, that was going to dampen his good mood tonight.









**A/N - Alex's dialogue at the beginning of that last section was taken from Cry Your Name.
Last edited by Pathos on Mon Jan 19, 2004 9:35 am, edited 1 time in total.
The fact that we are fools is duly noted...
But must that be our epitaph?

-SRC


I'd be an idiot if I weren't less than pleased about being doomed.

- Warren Zevon
User avatar
Pathos
Enthusiastic Roswellian
Posts: 49
Joined: Tue May 28, 2002 1:13 pm
Location: Chicago, IL

Post by Pathos »

Hello all -

Well, I'm back...

Gonna just duck and run - Hope you enjoy the next part and see ya soon!

Pathos

Minanda: Glad you enjoyed the update, and that the humor didn’t seem out of place. You know me, I worry. As for Alex…how come no one believes I’m the Nice One? :lol:

roswellluver: Yeah, Serena takes a little getting used to… :wink:

cherie: Glad you’re enjoying Serena – I have to admit, I love writing her. :)

mareli: Quiet desperation – that’s pretty much how I think of Serena too. Thanks for the bump…what was I saying about RL calming down? :roll:

frenchkiss70: Yeah, it’s gonna take Max and Serena a little while to be able to deal with one another… And as for Michael…would he do something stupid? :wink:

Reven Eid: All I’ll say about Alex is…well, read on. I can’t give everything away. :wink: :evil:

cindylouwho: Serena’s definitely walking a fine line, we’ll have to see if she trips…from here on out we actually begin the real shift from some of the events of S2 – hope you like. :)

Phi: Fireworks, huh? Ask and ye shall receive… :lol:

s1rulez: There’ll be more on the Serena/Liz relationship coming up. And I have to say ITA with – it’s all about the connection, and the balance they both seem to get from it…now if only they’d catch on… :roll: :wink:

Milla: Glad you stopped in, and Welcome! :)





********Part 17***************

Ashes.

Nicholas stared blankly at the almost empty pews of the church, the only thought running through his mind, the strange remnant of an alien tale of falling from grace.

Better to rule in Hell than to serve in Heaven.

He laughed bitterly at the arrogant naiveté that dared to make such a pronouncement. He’d done both and frankly, they both sucked. They’d brought him here, to this place, so he could…dine on ashes.

Waving his hand slowly in front of his face, Nicholas attempted to clear the air. But the dry, stale scent remained, clinging to him, seeping into the very fabric of his husk. He’d never hated the unruly second skin more, never felt so small and helpless before. Never seen his end so clearly defined before. Shaking his head, Nicholas wondered at the sacrifices he’d made. Sacrifices, he now saw, which held no value but to ordain his entire life as…worthless.

Closing his eyes, Nicholas found there was no comfort, only the nightmare of another time, reaching forward for him, refusing, even after all this time to be cheated. He could almost feel the burn of the dark, chemical cloud that had surrounded Verallia for as far back as he could remember, a silent killer slowly bleeding his planet of its life. A fitting end, the rest of the Universe had proclaimed.

And perhaps it was too many lifetimes spent acting a part, but even he had to admire the dramatic irony of mercenaries being slowly destroyed by their own traitorous, eroding planet.

Nicholas shook his head angrily. It was useless, this silent reflection, and unproductive. He needed to determine his next course of action. And he needed time. He’d known all along that Time was their enemy, just as it had always been, but he’d never even imagined that Time would choose an ally.

Glaring through the interior of the church, Nicholas studied the way the shadows of the dusk slid along the wall, promising the bright tomorrow even in their subdued darkness. It was perfect. Earth was perfect, a sterling payment from a grateful ruler. It should have been, anyway. His eyes narrowed on the last of the sun. He’d be damned if they lost all the ground they’d gained. Not now, when they were so close to the end. Not…he laughed bitterly.

He’d be damned.

Nicholas took a deep breath, his eyes slowly sweeping the room, sadly noting the piles of ash spilling from the polished wood of the pews to the well-worn floor. He’d pulled them from the brink of extinction before, but this…this was an annihilation.

The Talora. He’d been right all along. And foolish enough to think it didn’t matter.

Didn’t matter! His entire command hierarchy had been destroyed, along with a large chunk of the lower echelon, all lost to Zeijahra’s quest for a still unknown traitor. Her minions had turned this, the center of their community, into an interrogation room, leaving the remains of those who’d gone before as blunt examples of their power for all who followed. It was a tactic he’d employed on more than one occasion himself. And he’d bet his life that Zeijahra Shi’Ligh was well aware of his habits. Nicholas’s lips curled up into an angry snarl at the insult even as he wondered why she’d chosen to be absent from her victory. And then he wondered what else she had planned.

Straightening unsteadily, Nicholas slid around the crude altar. If he thought for an instant that the human God would listen, he might have been moved to pray. Too many nights on this rock, he growled to himself, ridding his mind of the thought. Their God was absentee at best, and Antar’s Fates had already made their presence known, leaving him to fight the steady advance of the inevitable. And it was inevitable, wasn’t it? Had been since Verallia’s fiery passing. For a brief moment he wondered if this was what it felt like to fail.

“Yo, yo! Miss me G?”

Nicholas’ eyes narrowed as the grating accent cut into his thoughts. It figured she’d send that fool back to rub salt in his wounds. Or maybe he was there to finish the job. His jaw clenched as he considered Zeijahra briefly. Antarian nobility. She couldn’t even be bothered to dirty her hands with his ashes.

Nicholas’s power curled angrily in the pit of his stomach, mingling with the hatred simmering there and giving it new life. There was no reason to play the subservient to Rath any longer. “What are you doing here?” he asked calmly, masking the violent impulse coursing through his body.

Rath grinned in the face of Nicholas’s glacial question. “Chill, homes. Aint no one seen me come in.” He dusted one of the pews off and sat down, dropping his heels heavily on the bench in front of him as he considered the fact that the guards normally posted on the outskirts of town hadn’t been there. “S’up wit dat anyway?” He shrugged, ignoring Nicholas’s murderous expression. Little boy couldn’t do shit to him and he knew it. “Got sick ‘n tired a waitin’ for the Queen Bitch ta get the job done. Figured may as well finish this fuckin’ thing myself.”

Nicholas paused, half a second from blasting Rath into oblivion. “What did you do?” he asked softly.

Rath grinned. “Talked ta Aves a while ago - I tol’ ya Zan’s bitch gots what we need – an’ I aims ta get it. Tanight. Then we’ll be seein’ what Miss Zeia thinks bout her fuckin’ position in my reign.”

Nicholas smiled slowly, almost holding his breath as his redemption was handed to him by an idiot. Good. Rath would turn Zeia’s attention, give her something else to concentrate on while he repositioned himself. If he played this just right… His smile widened.

Zeijahra was depending too much on Khivar’s ridiculous infatuation with using the Shi’Ligh heir to finally destroy the Royal House. The egotistical bastard may be willing to allow her whim now, but Nicholas knew that Khivar was pragmatic enough not to argue with success. All he had to do was keep Zeia busy and finish the job.

Nicholas nodded, his head bowing slightly in a false show of subservience. “How many men would you like?” he asked Rath.


*************************************


Michael edged closer to the entryway of the outdoor vending area, inching along the wall until he was just beyond the light spraying out from the overhead bulb. He couldn’t quite make out where Serena was, but the thin stream of cigarette smoke wafting through the air gave him a good idea. He heard the dull thud of a soda can falling into a tray and pressed himself more closely against the wall, waiting for her to head back to her room.

“We gotta stop meetin’ like this.”

“Jesus Christ!” Michael whirled around, his hand raised automatically to face the girl now standing just a few feet away.

Serena sighed heavily. Why the hell couldn’t he just go away and leave her in peace? Her patience was tapped and while she had no desire to get into another pissing contest with this idiot, she’d be damned if she just let him lurk outside the hotel room all night. She wasn’t sleeping as it was. “New terms ta the truce?” she inquired coolly.

Michael blinked, feeling oddly churlish when confronted with Serena’s placid expression. He glanced to her hands, both of which rested conspicuously at her sides, then slowly lowered his own. “I…”

“Was in the neighbahood?”

Michael’s jaw tightened at her sarcasm. Crossing his arms over his chest he took a step forward, towering over Serena’s small frame, then let out an exasperated snort when she simply raised her chin and took her own step forward. Right. To hell with subtlety, it wasn’t his strong suite anyway. “How’d you know I was following you?”

Serena snorted. “James Bond, you aint. I spent my entire life in the city, I aint ‘bout ta get taken out in fuckin’ Roswell, New Mexico,” she muttered snidely.

Michael glared, her dismissal of a town he’d despised since he hatched prodding his temper. “You sure?” he snapped back threateningly.

“S’long as you’re ridin’ that piece a shit Moped, which, for futa ref’rence you can hear for a mile…yeah,” Serena drawled, her lips curving into a practiced smirk. She waited for the explosion of temper, waited for him to attempt to intimidate her again, waited for something. But if anything, Michael looked more abashed than provoked by her observation as he glanced over his shoulder at the bike in question. He looked like Rath, but Rath would have been at her throat long before now.

Serena crossed her arms over her chest, unconsciously mimicking Michael’s position. “Whatta you want?” she asked warily, her eyes trained on features that were no longer as familiar as she’d expected.

“I want to know what you’re really doing here.”

“Told ya that already. Didn’t think it was that difficult a concept ta masta,”

“Revenge isn’t,” Michael muttered with a contemptuous shake of his head. Who the hell did she think she was, deciding who lived and who died? If anything, it should be Max deciding Rath’s fate. Michael gave an internal snort. Not likely.

“Justice,” Serena corrected through clenched teeth. She shook her head, wondering why the hell she was even continuing this conversation with him. “An’ I aint ‘bout ta get into a philosophical convasation wit you, of all people,” she concluded coldly.

“Afraid you’ll lose?” Michael taunted.

“Not fuckin’ likely.”

Michael stared, taken aback by Serena’s wry certainty. He shook his head. “Why are you even in the middle of this? This has to do with us and we’ll handle it our way. It’s none of your business,” he bit out. This was an alien thing, and all she’d do was screw it up. “You don’t even understand what you’re dealing with.”

Serena nearly choked on her ire. Didn’t understand? Who the fuck was he to decide what she understood? “I undastan’ more ‘n you think,” she bit out caustically. “More than you, prob’ly. An’ don’t presume ta know what my business entails.”

Brows furrowed angrily Michael glared at the arrogant witch in front of him. “I don’t think you…” he began.

“I don’t care!” Serena snapped. She ran a frustrated hand through her hair, shoving the unruly mass out of her face. “Here, lemme use smalla words,” she sneered. “I don’t give a shit ‘bout your way, or your people. Rath killed someone on my planet, an’ he’s gonna pay my way. Afta that, you can do whateva the fuck you want,” she finished tiredly, the last few sleepless nights weighing heavily against her control. She shook her head. When the fuck was this gonna be over?


Michael shook his head. If he hadn’t been glaring at her so hard he might have missed the edge of desperation that briefly colored her features, the tears that brought her eyes to glittering life in the darkness. He took a deep breath, and looked away, no longer comfortable holding her gaze. He preferred Serena angry, he decided. It fit her better than lost. Staring out into the cool darkness, he shook his head in frustration. And then his eyes narrowed suspiciously.

Serena forced a deep breath into her lungs and then reached for a cigarette, almost trembling with the sudden need. She couldn’t do this anymore. And she was sick and fucking tired of going rounds with him, not to mention completely unsettled by his suddenly contemplative expression. She’d never imagined Rath’s features could look like that. Sighing, she brought the cigarette to her lips, her eyes absently noting the movement directly over Michael’s left shoulder. The unlit cigarette fell to the ground as she stiffened in sudden awareness.


*************************


“Alex is coming over.”

Max looked up from the bag of microwave popcorn he was peppering with chili powder. “O-k?” He glanced back at his sister, wondering at her already defiant expression. He stared at her for a moment longer as she waited him out in pointed silence. “Have fun?”

“I will.” Isabel hesitated, wondering for the millionth time what was wrong with her brother. He’d been thrilled when their parents announced that they were going out to dinner. He’d even sat through an entire lecture on comporting himself as someone worthy of their trust for the few hours they planned to be out without batting an eye over the insult. And now, when she fully expected his disapproval, he looked like he couldn’t be bothered to give a damn. “What’s wrong with you?” she asked, exasperated.

“Nothing. I’m having popcorn,” Max said, his brows raised in response to his sister’s attitude. “What’s wrong with you?”

“Nothing.”

“Glad to hear it,” Max muttered, holding Isabel’s gaze for another uneasy second before he returned his attention to his popcorn, forcibly resisting the urge to snort in her face. He didn’t feel like getting into it with her.

“What’s going on with you and Liz?”

Max’s eyes narrowed on his bag of popcorn and he shook the chili powder even harder, coating it a deep, angry red. “Nothing.”

“It doesn’t look like nothing.”

Doesn’t feel like nothing either, Max admitted silently, gritting his teeth against the quiet censure he swore he heard in her voice. He didn’t really feel like getting into it with her. “We’re friends, Isabel.”

Isabel eyed her brother, mutely contemplating the forlorn expression that briefly marred his features. She shook her head. Friends was something he and Liz had never been, but something warned her that she should change the subject before it went someplace she didn’t want it too. She twisted her hair around her forefinger, remembering the conversation with Tess. “Max, you know Tess…”

“What’s going on with you and Alex?” Max interrupted, feeling a dangerous rush of frustration sweep his body. He didn’t want to think about Tess tonight. He didn’t want to do anything tonight except watch some mindless, inane movie on cable and munch his popcorn in silence. And she couldn’t even give him that, he thought angrily, glaring at his sister and only barely managing to resist the snide impulse to remind her that she had a frickin’ destiny too.

“It’s…I mean, we’re…” Isabel stuttered, feeling utterly exposed by her brother’s unrelenting stare.

“Friends?” Max offered archly.

“Yes,” Isabel said defensively, brushing her hair out of her face.

“And?”

“And…I don’t know.” Isabel said quietly. She didn’t know. All she knew was that Alex was different somehow since he’d come back. She found herself drawn to him, and more comfortable with him than with anyone else in the world at the moment. But she still couldn’t quite seem to figure out what that made him…what that made them. She chewed her lower lip absently as she studied her brother. He sounded reasonable and for a second she was tempted to pour out everything she was thinking, just as she always had. Until Liz.

Sighing, Isabel decided not to push her luck. It was better for everyone that way.

Max shook his head at Isabel’s strange silence. “Good luck figuring it out,” he muttered, turning away from her before this turned into a conversation they’d both regret.

Isabel took a deep breath. He’d kill her if she didn’t say something before… “I talked to Tess a few minutes ago,” she rushed out, watching Max’s entire body stiffen in reaction. “She thought it might be a good idea to come over…you know, keep you company since Mom and Dad aren’t here to actually enforce your grounding.” Isabel bit her lip. Inviting Tess over hadn’t been part of the original plan, and now that she thought about it she hadn’t really invited the other girl. She quickly pushed her uneasiness aside. “You should live a little, Max,” she told him brightly, her smile wilting a little at his expression.

Max slowly placed the box of chili powder on the counter. He was so getting into it with her. “Isabel…” he began.

Isabel had never been so grateful for a doorbell in her life. “That’s Alex, I should…I’m just gonna go answer that.”

Max watched her go, his entire being suddenly on edge. He glanced at the backdoor, wondering at the possibility of escape. He shook his head, wondering at his own desperate idiocy. Escape wasn’t an option. When was he going to get that through his damn thick skull?

Sighing heavily, he threw the popcorn into the garbage and squared his shoulders, heading out to answer the second doorbell before Isabel called his name.


**********************************************


Ava gasped when the motel room door flew open, hitting the wall as Serena rushed in. The magazine she’d been reading slid off the bed to the floor as she rolled quickly to her feet. “What the hell is goin’ on?” she demanded, shocked when Michael followed Serena into the room. They slammed the door shut and fell against it, breathing heavily. She shook her head, her eyes widening in shock over the darkening bruise that marring the left side of Serena’s face. “What happened to you?” she whispered, aghast.

“Sucker punch,” Michael answered shortly.

“Oh my God, he hit you?” Ava asked, staring at Michael.

“Not him,” Serena muttered rolling her eyes in disgust as she listened desperately for some sign of what was going on outside. “A Skin,” she explained, sealing the door shut with her powers. “Now will you be quiet?”

Ava froze. “A Skin?” she breathed out. “A Skin?!” she shouted, her voice sounding shrilly in her own ears. “I told you,” she choked out. “I told you what would happen if I told Rath…”

“Shut up!” Michael ordered, shouting to be heard over Ava’s rising voice. He turned his attention back to Serena. “I can’t hear anything,” he admitted softly.

“Me neitha. Maybe they’re lookin’ ta stay low key,” Serena mused, just as softly. “It’s somethin’ anyway.”

Michael nodded, relaxing slightly with the continued silence. Later, he promised himself, he'd take the time to wonder why he hadn't considered Serena's raised hand a threat, or why she’d never even glanced at his. Later, he'd wonder how the hell they'd gone from arguing to working together. And later, he'd wonder why they hell it felt like they'd done this before. But for now… He looked at Serena. “So,” he began conversationally. “The Skins? Is there anybody you haven’t pissed off?” He couldn’t say how, but he knew that this was all her fault.

Serena straightened indignantly. “You gotta be kiddin’ me! I been here for days now an’ I aint had any trouble til your sorry ass showed up.” The last of her defense was lost in the deep rumbling of an energy blast. The door shook ominously in its frame, but held.

Michael rolled his eyes. “Yeah? Well everything was nice and peaceful until you showed up and started blasting people.”

“N’case you hadn’t noticed, jackass, I aint the one blastin’ people at the moment,” Serena said, glowering at Michael as another hit sounded through the door. She shifted uncomfortably as the heat dissipated, bleeding through the door against her back.

“So much for low-key,” Michael sneered back.

Ava stared at the two of them, wondering how they could possibly be glaring at each other when Skins were clearly on the other side of the door. She cringed as the whole room seemed to shake. “Don’t you think you two should quit arguin’ wit each otha an’ maybe fight them?!” she cried.

Michael ignored Ava’s sharp tone as the door started to give way behind him. Palm flat against the wood, he focused his power to reinforce the structure, nodding in silent agreement to Serena’s muttered curse. “We need better cover,” he said grimly.

“We need to get to the Eldo,” Serena corrected, silently calculating the amount of time they’d need to make it out the bathroom window. She glanced behind her worriedly. They could make it…if the goddamn door held. She looked at Michael. “The window in the bathroom’ll get us to the back parking lot. Look,” she said impatiently, correctly interpreting his hesitant expression. “S’a ’78 El Dorado. It’s a fuckin’ tank. You wanna try makin’ it to your Moped, be my guest, but the smart money’s on my car.”

“Hell,” Michael breathed out. He glared at Serena, hating to admit that she was right. But she was. “Fine,” he bit out ungraciously. “On three. One…Two…”

“Three!”

Michael shoved himself away from the door, pushing Serena after Ava towards the back of the room.

“Wait!” Serena skidded to a halt, ducking under Michael’s arm and rushing back into the main room.

Michael hesitated in the bathroom doorway. “Serena! Come on!” he shouted.

“I’m comin’,” Serena said, her voice muffled as she searched desperately under the bed. “Damn it!” Pulling the bed away from the wall in impatient frustration, she breathed a heavy sigh of relief.

“Now would be a good time!” Michael prodded sarcastically, casting an uneasy glance at the motel room door. Shaking his head, he turned to Ava

Serena grabbed her duffle from the floor and felt for the familiar shape at the bottom of the bag. Thank God.

“Get the car running,” Michael ordered Ava, hefting her light frame through the window and listening for the drop of her footsteps on the other side. “Glad you could finally join us,” Michael muttered, glancing back at Serena when she finally entered the bathroom. “Your bag?” he asked incredulously. “You went back for…”

“Can we just fuckin’ go?”

Michael’s jaw clenched and he ignored the impulse to circumvent the Skins and strangle her himself. “Let’s,” he growled, cupping his hands.

Serena nodded, stepping into his proffered hand so that he could hoist her up and out the window. She threw the bag out first and then followed, landing heavily on the soft gravel below the window. Dusting herself off, she wondered at the strange feeling in the pit of her stomach. Glancing back at Michael, she watched uneasily as he shimmied awkwardly through the small window. Why hadn’t she hesitated when he’d offered his help? And why did it feel like they’d done this before?

“Come on!” Ava hissed, pulling the car to a halt next to Serena as Michael finally fell out the widnow.

Shaking her head, Serena ignored the strange feeling of déjà vu and slid into the car, ducking as Ava scrambled into the back so Michael could jump into the passenger seat.

Michael exhaled slowly as Serena wheeled the car around, heading for the front of the motel and the exit onto the highway. He kept a wary eye on the edge of the paved driveway, searching the night for any signs of the enemy. “This is too easy,” he muttered.

Serena nodded. It was too easy, she thought, guiding the car around the building to the front.

Ava swallowed hard as the two cars blocking the entrance came into view, even as another engine gunned to their left. “How’re we gonna get around ‘em?” she asked worriedly.

Michael ignored the question, his eyes straying to Serena’s grim expression. “Through?” he suggested, his fingers clenching as his power jumped against his palm.

“Through.” Serena agreed.


************************************


“I mean, Alex, this is a fabulous opportunity for me, you know? Max will realize that. Right?”

Alex nodded. It was clearly what Isabel expected, though the truth was he had no idea what Max was going to realize. He blinked purposefully once, and then twice, but he was unable to clear his vision and his head swam with the sudden, familiar pain.

Isabel sighed, and continued picking absently at the nonexistent lint on her shirt. This was a good idea, she told herself for the millionth time. She needed to get out of here, away from the stress of the last few months…away from Max and Michael before she could betray them. Again. Swallowing hard, Isabel tried to forget the insidious thrill of power she’d felt when Nicholas had been describing her previous life. She’d felt then what it was to betray them, and the guilt had stuck with her. But if Lonnie was any indication…Vilondra had no problem getting over guilt.

Going away to college, far away from here, was the best thing she could do. For everyone. She just had to find a way to explain that to Max. Shaking her head a little, Isabel put her worry aside and smiled at Alex. “We need music,” she decided, reaching for the CD he’d just given her, suddenly anxious to hear his new song.

Alex closed his eyes, his brows drawing together as strikes of light flashed behind his closed lids, the pain filling his senses, drowning out Isabel’s voice with an angry rush. He tried to swallow his nausea, tried to gain control of limbs that felt suddenly heavy, tried…

Isabel looked up from the stereo, her head tilting curiously when Alex made no reply. “Alex?”


***********************************


Max took a deep breath, his eyes trained on the crumbs littering his plate. You’re being an ass, he told himself, and all she did was bring you a slice of pie. He glanced at Tess and forced a smile. It was a sweet gesture, bringing the Men In Blackberry pie to cheer him up. Really sweet. It was the kind of thing that Liz might have done, he realized suspiciously, wondering if he’d been set up. Again.

Didn’t matter, Max reminded himself, swallowing his frustration. He’d been set up since before he was born.

“Max?”

Clearing his throat, Max focused on Tess’s expectant expression.

“I asked if you wanted to get started,” Tess repeated quietly, studying Max’s remote expression through narrowed eyes.

No. Max nodded dutifully. “Yeah, we should…do this. We can use the living room.”

The living room? Tess glared at Max’s back as she followed him. They’d never done memory retrieval in the living room, it had always been his bedroom. “Look, if you don’t want to do this, I don’t want to force you,” she said carefully, only barely holding onto her temper. She hated the way he always made her feel like she was begging.

Taking a deep breath, Tess plastered a small smile on her face, disgusted by the sympathy she read in Max’s eyes. She was half tempted to tell him what he could do with it, but…that wasn’t an option. They needed to do this.

Nicholas’s continued silence worried her more than she wanted to admit and she had the feeling that she better have actual progress to report the next time they spoke, otherwise…Tess gave herself a quick mental shake. She didn’t want to think about otherwise. Focus, she told herself. Make this work. “If you don’t want to do this…” she hedged, looking away as Max sat down on the couch, the disappointment in her voice, calculated to stroke his guilt to life. Why not use his martyr complex, she though acerbically, seeing through her lowered lashes that she’d hit her mark.

Max shook his head, hating Tess’s sudden vulnerable hesitation. “You’re not forcing me,” he said softly. “I…I need to do this,” he finished firmly, ignoring his own trepidation when she sat down next to him, her hand resting on his thigh. Unaccountably, he felt the dark echo of Serena’s desperate focus, her almost obsessive need to finish her mission. He smiled quickly, masking his discomfort and taking Tess’s hand in his. “Ok?”

Tess smiled back and laced her fingers through his, squeezing them gently. “Ok.” Taking a deep breath, she held Max’s gaze. This was easy, she reminded herself, annoyed by the brief nervousness that fluttered through her stomach. Focus. All you have to do is nudge him in the direction he wants to go anyway, even if the idiot didn’t know it himself.

Max looked away, his fingers clenching convulsively around hers as the feeling grew, cold and unending and…

Stop it, Max ordered himself. He took a deep breath and found Tess’s bright blue eyes studying him earnestly. Focus. This has nothing to do with Serena, focus on Tess. With an effort, he held her gaze. Tess.

- Flash -

Tess looked up in uncertain curiosity as Nasedo strode into the room brandishing a glossy photograph before him..

“Look carefully, my dear, this is the target.”

Max’s brows furrowed in confusion. Target? He shook his head, wanting to ask what it was he was seeing, wanting to know why Nasedo was holding a picture of…him.

You know that box? It is just full of pictures...pictures of Max.

Liz’s words came back to him, reflecting a stark, new meaning and his entire being stilled in surprise. They’d studied him, studied him like he was some animal in a cage or…stop it, he ordered himself harshly. It was old news and that was Nasedo, not Tess. It wasn’t Tess’s fault that she’d been raised by someone without feeling. His head bowed in strained sympathy. He’d never even imagined what it must have been like to grow up with Nasedo, but now…now he knew.

Loneliness. Isolation. Dedication. Focus. Anger. Enmity. Fear.

Max hesitated, held fast by the deep ambivalence brushing through his mind. He tried to pull back, wanting to ask Tess…but his questions drifted away as the moment continued to wash over him.

- Flash -

“It’s really him?” Tess asked softly, staring at the photo. “Nasedo, tell me. Is it really him?” she demanded impatiently, already reaching out to trace her finger lightly over his face. He was real. After all this time, she’d begun to wonder, but there was no doubting the picture. He was real. And she was suddenly giddy and excited…happy, perhaps, for the first time in her life. “What’s his name?”

Nasedo frowned, well aware of the fact that his charge hadn’t heard a single word he’d just said. And then he just shook his head, willing to give her a moment. “Max,” he told her quietly. “His name is Max Evans.”

Tess nodded. “Max,” she repeated, her voice a bare whisper, her lips parted in a soft smile. “ Max Evans.”


Max swallowed hard, his heart aching for the oddly childlike belief that her whole life had changed simply because she’d seen his picture, simply because he was alive. She’d needed him, clung to him…wanted to love him, he realized uncomfortably. All without knowing anything more than his name. It was overwhelming, the heavy intimacy of the vision. He’d never seen her like this, never imagined her so vulnerable, never imagined he’d ever really understand stubborn belief in Destiny. But he did. He understood her longing too well, and the vague guilt he’d been feeling, doubled with his sudden empathy.

His soul exhaled sadly. So much she’d needed from him, so much he was unable to give her.

- flash -

“I told you,” Nasedo pointed out, his voice hard.

Tess nodded slowly. “I know, but…”

“There are no ‘buts’ Tess.” Nasedo snapped. He shook his head, visibly fighting his temper. “I’m sorry. I know this is hard, but…do you see now?”

Tess swallowed hard, her chin raising defiantly. “Yes.”

“Tess…”

“I know what to do.”


Max started, his entire being chilled by the heat of her focused determination. It wasn’t Serena, he realized numbly, suddenly desperate to return to himself. It wasn’t Serena at all. From far away he could hear the drone of Tess’s familiar instructions. He focused on them, swimming heavily through the weight of his own mind, desperate to surface.. But, as if sensing his shocked vulnerability, Zahn chose that moment to steal his attention, offering little more than dusty memories and lessons out of time.

Tess let out a sigh of relief, sensing, finally, Max’s familiar vulnerability. Focusing, she called forth one of the memories she’d retrieved from her countless sessions with Nasedo. Dancing. It would seem harmless enough to him but remembered all too well how that night had ended, how he’d taken her into his arms. Maybe this time Max would find the balls to see it through the memory through to the end. She shook her head. It didn’t matter. Focus, she told herself.

Dancing, she intoned lightly. Zahn and Aeva were dancing.

Max shivered, his breath coming in long strangled gasps as the memory pressed in on him. His brows furrowed, his mind rebelling against the oddly translucent vision of Zahn awakening suddenly and reaching…reaching for his wife. Aeva. But she wasn’t there. Alert, and oddly fearful, Zahn called her name sharply, staring into the darkness, needing to feel…

Eyes narrowed on Max’s features, Tess reached out, adding a little more power even as he tried to shift away from her. They were dancing, drifting slowly closer. Nodding a little, she closed her eyes, pushing him gently, completely into the memory.

Bright angry flashes sparked behind closed lids and Max felt his soul cry out a mournful denial even as he recognized the truth of his own vision. And then he gasped as Zahn’s memory was eclipsed by the peculiarly discordant thought rushing fervently through his brain.

They were meant to be.

Max shook his head, his confusion mounting with his anxiety. Where the hell had that come from?

They were meant to be.

Not him, he insisted, though the thought remained, heedless of his control. It struck a cold note through his soul as he struggled to the surface of his own mind. He wasn’t thinking this. Not him!

Destiny

Max shuddered, surprised by the tenacity of the assault. No.

Destiny

No, he denied more forcefully.

Destiny

You have to, Max. There’s no other choice, not one that won’t…destroy the world anyway.


“No,” he whispered weakly.

Destiny


************************************


Zeijahra held up the glossy black and white surveillance photo, her eyes narrowed on the person standing next to the young King. There was a brush of familiarity about his features which surprised her. “Who is this?” she asked, handing the photo to Langley. His hands shook as he took it and she swallowed her sigh. They’d considered themselves lucky for the few Protector trainees who had made it through the last wave of attacks. Zeijahra shook her head. Langley should have been recycled.

Langley took a deep breath, trying to steady his nerves. “Uh…that’s Brody Davis,” he offered quietly, his energy shuddering under the strain of holding his subservient position. He’d forgotten how important it was to the Nobility and he chafed under the order to maintain a form that no longer fit. “Max’s boss

“At the UFO Center,” Zeijahra murmured consideringly. “Interesting.” She turned her full attention on the shapeshifter. “Why did this human warrant such an investigation?”

“I…he came out of nowhere.”

“No one appears out of nowhere,” Zeia corrected coldly. She flipped through the pages in the manila folder. At least Langley was capable of recognizing potential danger.

Langley nodded quickly. “That’s what I figured. And when I looked more deeply at his biography…it’s all stock background. Check the report…er, your high…uh, ma’am. Anyway, I followed the money. The dots don’t connect.”

Zeijahra blinked, taking a brief moment to translate what he had said to the English she’d learned. Idly, she considered forcing him to speak Antarian, but then, he’d probably forgotten that as well as his duty. Clearly there was a reason he’d been chosen to repeat basic training. It was shameful, she thought, that the only one left to protect Antar at the end had been a juvenile delinquent. She took a calming breath and continued paging through the report silently. “Interesting,” she finally acknowledged, a deep sense of unease disrupting her normal composure. It shouldn’t be possible…

Langley exhaled a sigh of relief as Zeijahra’s communicator sounded, finally turning her attention from him.

“Really, he did?”

Swallowing hard, Langley straightened, sending a longing glance at the French doors directly to his right. Her voice hadn’t risen an octive, but the displeasure in those three words was enough to curl a hot tendril of fear through his stomach. If he could only just make it out of here!

Zeijahra reached out, catching the shapeshifter in the web of her power before he could make good his escape. Shameful, she thought, thoroughly disgusted. She ignored his brief struggle and returned her attention to Makre. “I suggest you put an end to it. I’ll be back tomorrow.”

She was leaving. She was leaving...she hadn’t let him go. Langley’s relief was immediately offset by his panic as he wondered what she was going to do to him before she left.

Zeijahra shook her head, no longer surprised by the idiocy that seemed to surround this entire situation. She slid her communicator back into her pocket and looked once more at the terrified shapeshifter. “I’ve business to attend to at the moment. Might I offer you a suggestion?” she asked politely, letting her power trace along his face, pressing briefly against the soft spot on his forehead before she released him.

Langley stumbled back, his hand pressed against his high forehead, covering his throbbing soft spot. HE nodded silently, still reeling from her not so subtle threat.

“Do your job, shapeshifter.” Turning, Zeijahra headed for the hallway leading to the front door. “I’d like to believe I haven’t been wasting my time.”


************************************

“Max!”

Sucking in a painful breath as the shrillness of Isabel’s voice cut into the reverie, Max pulled himself quickly from Tess’s grip, his brow furrowing when he realized she wasn’t touching him. He shook his head, trying to rid himself of the fog still blanketing his mind, holding him in a familiar limbo and making it difficult to see though he felt things so clearly. He met Tess’s narrowed cerulean gaze uneasily.

“MAX!”

Max blinked, the strangely charged moment disappearing in the wake of his sister’s scream “Isabel?” he whispered hoarsely. He ignored Tess, even when he almost tripped over her as he struggled to his feet, adrenaline revitalizing his flagging energy. He could hear his sister weeping. “Isabel!” He found her in her room, on her knees and leaning over Alex’s spasming body. “What…”

“Do something!” Isabel implored, ignoring the tears spilling from her eyes. She took a deep, shuddering breath, struggling to remain calm as Max sank down next to her and ran a glowing hand over Alex’s body. He was shaking his head…why was he shaking his head? “Max? Max, please…”

But Max couldn’t hear her, she knew. He was concentrating on Alex, focusing on…on whatever was taking him away from her. Oh, God. Healing Liz hadn’t taken this long, her brain screamed, and that was a gunshot. This couldn’t be that bad…it couldn’t be that bad.

Please.

Oh, God, please.
The fact that we are fools is duly noted...
But must that be our epitaph?

-SRC


I'd be an idiot if I weren't less than pleased about being doomed.

- Warren Zevon
User avatar
Pathos
Enthusiastic Roswellian
Posts: 49
Joined: Tue May 28, 2002 1:13 pm
Location: Chicago, IL

Post by Pathos »

Hey all –

Well, my TH&TH muse is still MIA, but thankfully, the DHG one is firing on all thrusters, so here ya go. Hope you enjoy!

Pathos


lovalien: This should make you feel a bit better. :D

Milla: Yeah, Cal…decided to play around with his character a bit. And Alex… :wink:

Cherie: Well, not as soon as I would have liked, but the next part should come more quickly. :roll: :wink:

Natz: Thanks. Sorry this wasn’t sooner. :oops:

FallenMagic: I’m kinda fond of Serena’s attitude myself. LOL And as for another timeline… :wink:

BelvnDreamsToo: So many questions… At least one will be answered in the next part. :lol:

mareli: Gotta keep you reading somehow. You should like this ending a bit better. :wink:

frenchkiss70: Sure, go ahead and remind me of that. LOL And just to put your mind at ease…yes. I am trying to fix S2. :P

Scottie: Sorry for the torture…I swear we’re working our way back to happy. Eventually. :wink:

Minanda: Trust no one ! LOL We’ll be getting more into Michael and Serena’s déjà vu later… :lol:

AmeliaML4: Thanks! :lol:

cindylouwho: Sorry about leaving you hanging. And thanks for the faith in my Max. :)

FYI - posted in two parts for length...

************************Part 18*******************

Taking a deep breath, Liz dialed the number. And then hung up before it could ring through. Rolling her eyes at her continued indecision, she stood and began to pace her room, methodically straightening the same things she’d been straightening for the last hour.

This is ridiculous, she thought, sitting down in front of the open history book on her desk. Calling Max wouldn’t accomplish anything. It wouldn’t help her study and it certainly wouldn’t help her get rid of the strange feeling that had been hunting her since this afternoon. All she’d do was worry him. For no reason, she reminded herself for the tenth time in as many minutes. Right. So focus.

Staring down at the history book, Liz flipped pages aimlessly. Four score and… That wasn’t even the right chapter.

Defeated, she stared at the phone on her nightstand, her pencil tapping rhythmically against the back of the chair. They had History together, her rationale allowed. And you know full well you wrote down the chapters to study in your notebook, her common sense pointed out dryly. Still, friends called each other to…ask how their date was going, her conscience interjected smoothly, before she could rationalize the impulse.

Liz chewed her bottom lip absently, recalling how Tess had come into the Crash earlier this afternoon looking…well, looking like Tess. And smiling about how she was going to go over and ‘cheer Max up’. Liz snorted. She could just imagine how…she swallowed hard. She didn’t want to imagine.

Taking a deep breath, Liz ignored the bitter taste of her own jealousy. This was the plan, she admonished herself, the plan that was going to save the world. She closed her eyes briefly, wondering why it was still necessary to remind herself of that. This wasn’t a choice, it was simply the right thing to do. She knew it. So why couldn’t she accept it? Why couldn’t she just let go?

Maybe because she didn’t want to, her heart offered softly. Or maybe, Liz rationalized desperately, because this feeling of impending darkness wouldn’t let her go.

Picking up the phone, she dialed the number quickly. And hung up.

What was she going to say, she wondered in disgust. I’ve got a bad feeling about God-knows-what and I just wanted to hear your voice? That was insane. Not to mention completely counterproductive. And so necessary, she couldn’t seem to get the thought out of her head.

God! What was wrong with her? She felt exposed and nauseous and…Maria, she decided. She’d call Maria, and they’d chat for a while and then she’d realize that this was all in her head. Nodding, she picked up the phone, feeling better now that she had a plan. She might even get a little studying done, she decided optimistically.

Her common sense snorted in her face.


********************************

Diane Evans hurried quickly down the hall, her husband’s wallet forgotten with the sound of her daughter’s heartbroken weeping. She knocked gently at Isabel’s door and then slowly pushed it open. “Sweethe…”

She fell silent, her whisper lost within the surreal weight of the moment even as her concern shifted to a deep, unsettled confusion at the sight of Max leaning over Alex, pain and concentration clear on his face. And…oh, God.

Riveted, she watched her son pass his hand, his glowing hand over Alex’s face. And then he fell back, panting heavily, his features pinched and strained. Oh my God.

“Max, is he…?” Isabel began, her voice shrill and concerned. It looked like Alex was breathing normally, but he had yet to awaken. “Max!”

Max nodded once, his entire being trembling with the effort. He wanted to sleep. He wanted to sleep and never wake up, but if the way Isabel was gripping his arm was any indication, that wasn’t an option.

Swallowing his trepidation, Max forced himself to reach out again, to rest his hand against Alex’s forehead and brush the remnant of his power against the fading scar of Alex’s injury. He closed his eyes on a sigh of relief. “He’ll be ok,” he whispered hoarsely, grateful that Isabel hadn’t heard his uncertainty. He’d never had to fight to heal someone before, and the burning opposition had sapped his strength, leaving him achy and questioning his own ability. Briefly, he wondered at the block. And then he shook his head, his own desperate incomprehension finding no purchase amidst his exhaustion.

He knew exactly what it meant.

“Thank you,” Isabel wept, pulling Alex closer, cradling his head in her lap. He was fine. Fine, she repeated. God, she’d almost lost him!

Alex blinked slowly and then let out a happy sigh. This had to be the best dream ever, he decided, inhaling the light scent of Isabel’s perfume and resting his head more comfortably against her chest. Just as soft as they always were in his dreams, but firmer. Nicer, he decided, smiling. He’d give it another minute and then open his eyes again.

Tess let out the breath she’d been holding and sank down next to Max, touching his shoulder hesitantly. Nothing. She didn’t even feel the usual subconscious attempt to hold her at bay. She swallowed hard, her sudden fear fueled by a cold rush of adrenaline. “Max?”

Alex frowned. Max? And why the hell was Tess in his dream? That was new. He opened his eyes and struggled to a sitting position, making a small move to shove Max’s hand away. His brows furrowed at the slow, laborious movement of his own limbs. What…

“Just give it a second,” Max said, his own voice rough with fatigue. God, he wanted to sleep.

“Don’t worry, you’re ok now, Alex,” Isabel sniffled, offering him a smile as her heart regained its normal beat. He was ok.

Alex nodded slowly. He was ok. In fact, now that the painful pressure in his skull was gone he felt better than ok. Max, on the other hand, looked like crap. “You look like hell, man,” Alex said, his voice barely a whisper. That was weird. He cleared his throat and tried again. “You look like hell,” he offered once more, slapping him lightly on the shoulder.

Max winced. His entire body felt bruised, as if he’d just gone ten rounds with Muhammed Ali. And lost. If he could just get to bed…

Diane closed her eyes and then opened them again. It didn’t help. She still felt as if she were desperately trying to catch up with everyone else in the room. “Max?”

He froze. Mom. Not now, he begged silently, not this. Groaning with the effort of turning his head, Max looked up at his mother and cringed at the shocked expression on her face. “ I...I can explain,” he asserted tiredly, pretty sure that was a lie. He cast a desperate glance in his sister’s direction, but Isabel remained silent, shock and uncertainty written plainly across her face. Along with a relief he didn’t share.

“Oh my God.” Ignoring her lingering confusion, Diane stepped forward, suddenly more concerned by her son’s ashen features than by what he’d just done. “Max, what…sweetheart, what happened? What did you do?” She whispered, reaching for him. But he shrank away from her and she straightened in surprise. “Honey, please…” It was already too late. His eyes were shuttered with the distrust that always cut her to the bone. Taking a deep breath, she looked to her daughter for an explanation. “Izzy?”

“I…I thought you were going out to dinner,” Isabel murmured weakly. She wanted nothing more than to finally just say the words she’d been swallowing for years, but she could tell from her brother’s expression that he’d never forgive her.

“Your father forgot his wallet and…” Diane shook her head. “ Damn it, that’s not important! I want an explanation.” She looked at Max again. “And we need to get you to an emergency room, you look…”

Max’s brows rose in surprise. His mother hardly ever swore and…hospital? “No! Mom, I don’t need a…I’m fine, I…” He staggered to his feet, only to find himself too weak to either explain, or run for cover. “I just…”

“Max, what is going on? Look at me.” Diane shrugged helplessly, her heart aching for the clear misery she read in his eyes. He looked terrified. “Honey, please…what was that?” she asked, cupping his chin and gently forcing him to raise his eyes to hers.

Max blinked, his heart beating faster with the compassion he could read in her eyes. She was confused, but she wasn’t…angry. She wasn’t turning away from him. “I…”

Tess rolled her eyes at Max’s trapped expression. Well, if he wasn’t going to do anything…

*****************************

Michael raised his brows in silent admiration as the car bearing down on them from the left burst into flame. He was half tempted to compliment Serena on her shot. Until the blast sent the vehicle spinning out of control and slammed it into the rear quarter panel of the Eldo. Shuddering under the impact, the Eldo fishtailed violently into a one eighty skid before Serena brought it back under control.

Pulling in a deep breath and bracing himself against the roof, Michael watched the blazing Deville slide to a halt behind them, watched as the four Skins threw themselves from the car and fell to the ground to try to smother their blazing clothes. But it was no use. The flames simply outlined their doom, burning ever brighter against the dark backdrop of the night sky. He shivered lightly as the small, human shaped blazes flared a deeper hue, then caved into nothingness, extinguished with the husks that crumbled to dust and disappeared.

“Fuck,” Serena breathed out, taking a quick moment to regroup and correct the car’s position as she tried to see past the image of another body falling to dust. Focus, goddamn it! The Skins were the enemy, they were supposed to be immolated.

Michael looked at Serena, surprised by both her sudden pallor and the stark expression on her face. “That’s supposed to happen,” he offered, noticing the way she kept looking in the rearview mirror.

“I know that,” Serena snapped. Get a grip, she ordered herself, ignoring the carnage behind her and returning her attention to the roadblock.

“So why are we slowing down?” Michael snapped back.

“We aint.”

“Glad to hear it,” Michael muttered, concentrating on the target in front of him. He could feel his power gathering like a broiling storm, held harmless in the palm of his hand, waiting only to be unleashed.

Serena exhaled roughly, choosing to ignore the sarcasm as she bore down on their only means of escape. “You ready?”

“Born ready.” Michael flexed his fingers, arm outstretched through the open window.

Whatever. Rolling her eyes, Serena nodded grimly at the Lincoln Town Car on the right. “Now!”

Shielding his eyes against the glare Michael allowed himself a small, satisfied smile as the Lincoln blew sky high, the heat from the explosion washing over him in heavy waves. He winced a little as the vehicle folded in on itself with a metallic screech that battled the roar of the fire as the flames devoured it from the inside out. Damn. Gimme fuel, gimme fire… He shook his head, the Metallica song taking on a strange new significance.

“Gimme fuel, gimme fire, ” Serena muttered, watching as the flames rolled steadily higher, feeding off the force of the explosion and the combustible remains of the Skin’s husks. She shook off her lingering queasiness and pressed the accelerator to the floor.

Ava whimpered softly, biting her lip to keep from crying out as she crouched low against the backseat. Jesus, they were both fuckin’ nuts. And this was a suck plan, but she could just imagine what they’d say if she opened her mouth. Still silent, she closed her eyes and prayed for this to be over.

Michael stared at Serena as she maintained her course, seemingly intent on pushing the Eldo through the twelve inch space that existed between the two vehicles blocking their path. One of which was on fire. He shook his head, rethinking the intelligence of their plan even as the Skins in the other vehicle scrambled to move it out of the way before it caught fire, giving them a wider means of escape. Not that it mattered, he realized uneasily, Serena wasn’t backing off. Shit.

The impact nearly sent him threw the windshield, and he felt Ava fall heavily against his seat, cursing Serena under her breath with admirable enthusiasm. Catching himself against the dash, Michael glared at the brunette and nodded his wholehearted agreement. “And the open space to the left was what, too easy?” he demanded.

“Did I tell you two idiots not ta put on a seatbelt?” Serena questioned, raising her voice to be heard over the Eldo’s sharp, crunching whine of displeasure. They lost a headlight as the passenger side of the car took the brunt of the collision, crumbling back toward the wheel well. But it was the flaming Towne Car that gave ground, brushing briefly along the right side of the car before sliding down the embankment on the side of the driveway, leaving nothing but open road before them. Steel beats fiberglass every time, she thought with satisfaction. Exhaling roughly, she looked at Michael. “Told ya we’d make it.”

Make it? Michael shrank away from the door as the Eldo caught fire, the sharp heat bubbling the black paint and causing a faint, metallic scent to fill the car. He didn’t think driving down the highway in a flaming car qualified as ‘making it’. “Serena!”

Serena shot Michael a bewildered look, shouldering him out of her personal space and back onto the passenger seat with an elbow to the ribs. “Well, put it out!” she ordered when he just stared at the growing fire. What the fuck was wrong with him?

Michael raised a hand and then hesitated, visions of the Jetta he’d tried to fix flashing through his mind. The last thing they needed was for him to set the Eldo on fire. More than it already was. “I…”

“For fuck’s sake!” Serena let out a disgusted sigh, not even waiting for him to finish. “Ava!”

Ava placed a hand on the car, stretching forward a little as she concentrated. The growing fire died a quick death, leaving scorch marks burned into the paint but no real damage. A moment later she opened her eyes and exhaled slowly, chancing a look behind them. “Subtle,” she commented softly, her eyes reflecting the flames curling into the darkness behind them. She shook her head. So much for low-key. And then she stiffened as the last Skin vehicle shot out of the parking lot to take off after them. “Serena….”

Serena stole a glance at the rearview mirror. “Fuck.”

Michael shifted around in the front seat, forgetting his embarrassment as the Skins closed in on them. Crap. “Floor it!” he ordered, already trying to aim past Ava’s head.

“Ya think!”

This was unbelievable! Ava’s brows drew together over stormy blue eyes as Michael waved her impatiently out of his way. “Could the two a ya’s…” Her temper was abruptly cut off by the loud shattering of the back windshield. She ducked, giving Michael a clear shot as shards of glass fell around her.

Serena swore softly and tightened her grip on the steering wheel in an attempt to keep from swerving off the road. She glanced at Michel uneasily, her eyes falling on his outstretched hand. “Michael…”

“Finally,” Michael muttered at Ava, ignoring her snort of disgust. “Try to keep it steady,” he told Serena, readying his power for another blast.

“Aint got time for a shootout at the OK Corral. We gotta lose ‘em before we hit traffic,” Serena interrupted, nodding pointedly at the red taillights already visible in the distance. “There an exit up there?”

Michael shook his head. “We’ll never outrun them. We need to make a stand here. Before we hit traffic,” he added snidely.

“Serena, he’s right,” Ava said, wading hesitantly into the conversation.

Serena glared at the highway. “Aint plannin’ on outrunnin’ ‘em,” she ground out. And I aint risking getting into a fight I can’t finish, she added silently, all too aware of how much power she’d used with that last blast. She wasn’t sure if it was the lack of sleep or the loss of…whatever it was, her power faded more quickly, of late.

“Get your mind-fuck ready,” she told Ava. “I want ‘em chasin’ a mirage down that exit ramp.”

Warp, Ava corrected silently. Mind warp.

“And then what?” Michael pressed obstinately.

Serena gritted her teeth, his voice grating against her last nerve. “And then we turn around and head in the otha direction. We’re home free. No shots fired and way less attention,” she pointed out, knowing she’d hit a nerve when Michael hesitated before he answered her.

Michael nodded slowly. Max would appreciate the less attention. Particularly after the motel parking lot. “Could work,” he allowed.

“Gee, thanks. I can die happy now, ” Serena bit out ungraciously.

“Works for me,” Michael shot back.

Ignoring Michael, Serena caught Ava’s gaze in the rearview mirror. “Shake it, will ya?”

Ava swallowed hard, her eyes glued to the car following them. Rath was gonna be pissed as it was that Serena got away. When they told him she’d helped… “I don’t know,” she hedged.

“What’s not to know? Just do it!” Michael ordered.

“I…they’re too far away.”

Shit. Taking a deep breath, Serena eased off the gas, tension knotting her stomach as she watched the Skin’s headlights looming closer in the mirror. “Ava…”

“I…” Tears glistening in her eyes, Ava nodded. “Start ta ease off the road,” she said, her voice thick and helpless. She was so screwed. The moment was gone and her decision had been stolen from her by circumstance. No matter what she might want, her side had just been chosen for her.

Michael held his breath as the Skin’s car drew alongside them, hovering close enough for him to make out the intense concentration on the drivers face. This was such a bad frickin’ idea. What was he thinking, going along with her? He must have been out of his mind. His fingers curled into a fist as Serena eased the Eldo over to the shoulder, finally moving away from the Lincoln.

Serena took a deep breath and let the car roll to a stop, exhaling her relief as the Skins sped past and…pulled over a hundred feet in front of them? She tensed, her power jumping in anticipation as she wondered what the hell they were waiting for. “Ava?” she prodded anxiously. “Ava!”

“They’re still seein’ the warp,” Ava asserted, her forehead wrinkling in desperate concentration.

Serena nodded slowly, tempted to believe her when the Skins remained in their car. What the hell? “Think they can sense you?” she asked, her eyes narrowed contemplatively on Michael.

He frowned indignantly. “Me? Why not you?”

Serena shook her head. Idiot. “Because you’re the alien, maybe?”

Oh. Michael shrugged uncomfortably, watching as the Skins sat, unmoving, in their car. If they could sense him, why hadn’t they moved on the Eldo yet? But if they couldn’t…why’d they stop instead of following the warp? “I don’t know,” he admitted finally, glaring at the Skins. He wished they’d just get the hell on with it.

“Big help,” Serena muttered.

“Great plan,” Michael shot back, his power jumping against his palm. “Always wanted to be a sitting duck.”

Serena snorted softly. “Just shut up and preten’ ta be a cactus or somethin’…’bout your mental speed anyway,” she added under her breath.

Michael’s eyes narrowed. “What was that?” he asked, his voice dangerously soft.

Serena rolled her eyes at his tone, just to needle him. “Give it anotha secon’, I’m sure they’re just…”

“Taking a random vote on how best to kill us?” Michael finished sarcastically. Screw this. They were going to have to blast their way out sooner or later. May as well be now. “You with me, or not?” he asked, palm glowing pointedly.

Serena glanced back at Ava, uncomfortably aware of the random dips and spikes of her power. “She says she’s still got ‘em warped.”

“Uh-huh.” Michael considered Serena briefly. “You trust her enough to bet your life on that?” he asked quietly.

Startled by the insight, Serena met Michael’s serious gaze. She was even more disconcerted to find none of the manic pleasure Rath always displayed whenever he was about to start a fight, none of the bloodlust. Instead there was a simple, startlingly familiar determination.

Michael looked away quickly, his small victory stolen by the resurgence of his déjà vu. It freaked him out. And suddenly, he didn’t want to get away from the Skins any more than he wanted to get the hell away from Serena.

“I can hear you, ya know,” Ava pointed out, hiding a snicker at the way both Michael and Serena jumped at the sound of her voice. Too bad they couldn’t be bothered to remember she was in the car. “An’ they’re headin’ our way,” she finished quickly, catching the warp before it slid out of her reach and fucked them all over.

Michael froze, utterly shocked when he looked over at the Lincoln only to find that it had pulled a u-ey and was now speeding down the highway toward them. He felt Serena stiffen beside him, her power brought quickly to life against her palm even as the Lincoln passed them by without a glance and disappeared behind the curve of the highway.

“What the hell…” Serena breathed out.

Michael shrugged. “No clue. And frankly, I don’t care. Let’s get out of here.”

“Amen,” Ava muttered, beginning to relax as she let the warp fade back into reality. She rolled her shoulders, easing her cramped muscles. One day she’d have to figure out how to do that without tensing up. She looked from Serena to Michael. One day when she didn’t have to deal with either one of them.

Serena shook her head, her mind racing with the sudden opportunity. “Switch it up.”

Ava blinked. “What?”

“The warp. Switch it up,” Serena ordered again, putting the Eldo back into gear and making sure it was clear. “Make sure they don’t notice me followin’ ‘em.”

“Oh, no!” Michael countermanded, surprised by Ava’s simple nod of compliance. “We just got them the hell off our ass. We are not going to…” He gripped the armrest on the door as Serena swung the car back onto the road, hitting the shoulder on the other side as she forced the huge vehicle into a u-turn. “Damn it, Serena! Ava don’t!’

Ava opened her mouth and then closed it again, shrinking back into her seat, away from Michael. “I…”

“We’re gonna be right behind ‘em in a second,” Serena pointed out coolly.

“Don’t do it,” Michael warned.

“Make up your mind, damn it!” Ava cried, looking from one identically stubborn expression to the other.

“Serena, think about this. We need to get back to Roswell. We need back up.” Michael blinked, feeling about as astonished as Serena looked.

“I don’t believe this!” Serena shook her head in exasperation. “Two seconds ago you were gonna take ‘em on by yourself.”

“That was when I didn’t have a choice. I don’t think…”

“I don’t care, I’m drivin’. I win,” Serena said succinctly. “Ok, truce,” she rushed out, holding up a hand to forestall the argument she was sure Michael was going to start. “This might be the only chance we get to figure out where the hell they’re at.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Think about it. Why give up the target so quick? They was obviously sent afta us…why go to the trouble a huntin’ us down just to let us go? They was called back.”

Michael shook his head. “We should head back to Roswell,” he repeated stubbornly. Even if they could use the information they might get. Whatever Max said, acting normal wasn’t going to get them anywhere.

Serena studied Michael’s uncertain expression. Clearly he was divided. “C’mon, Mikey, slip the leash. Gotta run the recon when ya can, ” she pointed out slyly. And we’re goin’ whether you like it or not. I aint about to give up the possibility of Rath’s location just so you can play the dutiful second.

Michael’s jaw set. He glanced back at Ava, his eyes narrowing on her disturbingly vacant expression. She was already back in the warp. Which, he supposed, was a good thing, considering that they were quickly gaining on the Lincoln. He sat back with a disgruntled huff. “How long can you hold that?” he asked her.

Serena grinned. He wasn’t that different from Rath after all. Her smile faded as she wondered why that didn’t bother her nearly as much as it should.

Ava shrugged. “Don’t know.”

“You don’t know?” Serena glanced back into Ava’s blank gaze, shivering a little at the emptiness of her expression. She returned her eyes to the road. “How d’you not know?” Zan had made her practice to within an inch of her life and she knew her own powers inside out.

Ava shrugged, taking a deep breath and trying to refocus. Even if she’d been inclined to play with her powers, Zan had hated it when she used them. “Look, could ya just shut it?” she snapped. “It’d help if I could concentrate.”

Serena shrugged. “Just lemme know when we need to find cova.”

“Just shut the fuck up an’ it’ll be fine,” Ava bit back.

Whatever. Serena settled the Eldo in behind the Lincoln and sighed. At least they had a full tank of gas. It looked like it was going to be a long night.
Last edited by Pathos on Thu Mar 04, 2004 10:13 pm, edited 4 times in total.
The fact that we are fools is duly noted...
But must that be our epitaph?

-SRC


I'd be an idiot if I weren't less than pleased about being doomed.

- Warren Zevon
User avatar
Pathos
Enthusiastic Roswellian
Posts: 49
Joined: Tue May 28, 2002 1:13 pm
Location: Chicago, IL

Post by Pathos »

**********Part 18 continued***************

Isabel exhaled slowly, sensing the shift in her brother even before his face smoothed and he relaxed enough to sag against the wall. He wasn’t saying anything, but she decided to count that as a good thing. “Mom.” She swallowed hard, feeling her stomach dip and tighten with her nervousness. “Mom, There’s something we need…”

“You didn’t see anything. You came in to say goodnight to Isabel after you got the wallet,” Tess intoned, her eyes closed in concentration.

Isabel froze, her eyes narrowing on Tess in angry disbelief.

Shaking her head, Diane pressed her fingers briefly to her temple and stared at the girl she’d only just noticed. Isabel’s friend.

Oh, gosh. Oh, Izzy. Hi, honey. Your new friend, Tess, stopped by, and I just got to chatting, and the next thing I know, I’m telling all kinds of stories about you and Max when you were little.

She blinked owlishly, a deep uneasiness twisting her stomach. Taking a quick breath, she focused on her daughter. “Izzy, honey what were you…”

Tess gritted her teeth. “Isabel was studying and you came in to say goodnight. Say goodnight,” she ordered silkily.

Smiling brightly, Diane stepped forward. “Don’t study too hard, sweetheart,” she told Isabel, dropping a quick kiss on her daughters cheek before she turned and headed out, shaking her head fondly. “ I swear, your father would leave his head behind if it wasn’t attached to his shoulders…”

Max held his breath as his mother turned and walked blindly from the room. For the first time in his life he wanted to call out to her, to simply say aloud the words he’d been hiding from his whole life, to see…to see if what he’d glimpsed in her eyes was real.

And then she stopped, pausing briefly at the door to his room as his conscience shouted its outrage. Looking away from the sight of her saying good-night to the thin air, he met his sister’s anguished, accusing gaze and shrugged helplessly. It was too much right now and there were too many other things racing through his brain. And he was too damn tired to feel anything more than dizzy and off balance.

“Mom…” Isabel whispered, but her mother didn’t even pause and the word was lost with the opportunity. Tears gathered in her eyes and she sank down onto her bed. This wasn’t happening, she thought a little desperately. And then the front door shut with a loud click and she knew it was. Isabel closed her eyes against her tears, grateful for the steady pressure of Alex’s fingers over her own.

Alex squeezed Isabel’s fingers gently, startled when she didn’t pull away and chose instead to cling to his hand. He looked at Tess, chilled to the bone over the ease with which she’d turned Mrs. Evans into a puppet. He couldn’t fault her reasoning, he supposed. Only he did. With a vengeance that surprised him.

“Don’t ever do that again,” Isabel commanded flatly.

Tess blinked, surprised by Isabel’s censure. What the hell else was she supposed to do? “I…Isabel, I didn’t have a choice, she…”

“That’s my mother,” Isabel whispered harshly. She looked at her brother, her temper flaring over his apparent lack of interest in the conversation. “Max!” she hissed expectantly.

“She’s my mother, too,” Max pointed out tiredly, glaring half-heartedly at his sister. He shook his head, desperate to lose the heavy fatigue weighing against his soul. “Tess, I appreciate the gesture but…don’t do it again.”

Tess gaped. “Max, I…I did it for you. You were right,” she offered, forcibly gentling her tone. “She’s not your mother and you can’t take a chance on her finding out.”

Max’s head snapped up in surprise. He wracked his brain, but he couldn’t ever remember telling her about that. And he couldn’t imagine Isabel or Michael bringing it up. A sliver of apprehension slid through his brain as he studied Tess’s innocent expression. He found himself thoroughly disconcerted by her sincerity and the cool hint of an intimacy he’d never acknowledged before.

“This isn’t about what he wants,” Isabel interjected coldly.

“You know what? It’s not about what you want either,” Max retorted, his attention shifting angrily to his sister. “Look, everybody just…” Just stop, he wanted to say. Just leave me alone and let me sleep for the next month. “Just calm down.”

“I’m perfectly calm,” Isabel bit out.

“Great,” Max muttered, looking at Tess before this turned into something he wasn’t ready to deal with. “If something like that happens again, we’ll handle it, ok?”

Tess shrugged uneasily, feeling vulnerable for the first time under Max’s continued perusal. She’d made a mistake, she realized. “Max, I…” Looking away, she felt her breath catch painfully as she came face to face with Alex. What had he seen, she wondered suddenly. What had Max seen when he’d healed him?

“I was only trying to help,” she murmured. She needed to get out of there, needed time to think. She needed a plan. Another one, she acknowledged in disgust. Her eyes narrowed on Alex’s glare. Maybe not.

Max stepped forward quickly, catching Tess’s arm before she could leave. But he didn’t feel the chill brush of obsession he’d expected. Instead he felt…nothing. It was almost worse. He dropped his hand, her startled expression making him realize the harshness of his grip. “Sorry. I…” He shook his head, repulsed by his own paranoia. “I know you were trying to help, but next time just…we’ve got it covered, ok?”

Tess shrugged uncomfortably. “Yeah.” She looked at Isabel. “Look, really, I…”

“It’s fine,” Isabel said shortly. “We’ll see you tomorrow.”

Max sighed. “Come on, I’ll…”

Tess shook her head slowly. She couldn’t leave them alone, she decided, not without doing some damage control. “Max, I don’t think you should be alone right now. Look at you, you look worse than Alex did when…”

“I’m fine,” Max insisted.

“And he’s not alone,” Isabel added. “We’ll call if we need your help.”

Tess blinked her surprise. The dismissal was unmistakable and her anxiety ratcheted up a notch. Tonight was supposed to put her closer to her goal, but instead…she swallowed delicately. “Right. Isabel, I am sorry. I wasn’t trying to…I’m sorry,” she offered, knowing Isabel would respond better to her meekness than anything else. She darted a quick glance in Max’s direction, disturbed by the pensive expression on his face. This was turning into a disaster. “I’ll see you guys tomorrow,” she said, deciding to leave gracefully while she still could.

Alex watched Tess go and found himself more than a little relieved by her exit. He looked at Isabel and shook his head. Unbelievable. For the first time in his life it seemed his dreams were about to come true. Isabel Evans had wanted him. Him. And what happens? God chooses that exact moment to give him some weird, epileptic seizure. Alex shook his head. What was wrong with him? He finally gets close to a girl and his head explodes! Some date. He could only imagine what Isabel was thinking. “Are you ok?” he asked her quietly.

Isabel started, blinking at Alex as if she’d only just remembered he was there. “Am I…” Fresh tears filled her eyes and she let out a shaky laugh. “Am I ok? Alex, you almost…I almost lost you.” Unable to stop herself, she wrapped her arms around his neck and hugged him close. “God, I almost lost you and you’re asking…are you ok?” she finally asked, her voice muffled against his neck.

Alex hesitated, and then gathered her closer, relishing the warmth of her body against his own. “I’m fine,” he reassured her, pulling back just a little so that he could meet her eyes. He nodded, mimicking her serious expression before raising a hesitant hand to her face and tracing the line of her cheekbone with his knuckle. “Never better.”


********************************

Michael blinked, reading the highway sign one last time as Serena sped past it. Crap. He straightened quickly, his limbs protesting the change in position after hours of being cramped in the front seat. “We can stop now,” he said quietly, blinking some moisture back into his burning eyes. Whatever Serena said, he’d bet real money that she’d done something to keep the smoke in the car, even two hours after she’d lit her last cigarette.

“Whatta you talkin’ about?” Serena questioned, hiding a yawn. Jesus, it felt like they’d been driving forever. And she was outta smokes, damn it.

“I know where they’re going.” Michael said. “And this is a trap.” He added, already cringing at the suspicion he read in Serena’s expressive blue eyes.

“It’s a…an’ ya just decided ta mention this now?”

“I just figured it out, ok?” Michael shot back irritably.

“Why am I not s’prised?” Serena growled.

“Just let it go, will you? They’re heading back to Copper Summit.”

“Copper Summit?”

“It’s a whole town full of Skins,” Michael explained tiredly. “Their headquarters. The minute we drive in, they’ll have us surrounded.”

“A whole town full of…” Serena broke off in exasperation as she took a moment to glare at Michael. “For futa ref’rence, that qualifies as an important fuckin’ piece of information!”

“Whatever,” Michael muttered, dismissing her aggravation as she finally began to slow the car, letting the Lincoln disappear over the rise of the highway. At least she wasn’t suicidal enough to think about storming the gates. “If I hadn’t figured it out we would have followed them straight into…”

Serena stared. Was he fucking serious? She let out a loud, frustrated sigh and she glared at Michael. “If you’da figured it out when we started this trip, we wouldn’ta had to follow these idiots all over creation. You coulda told me hours ago…”

“Would you just fuckin’ pull ova?” Ava bit out. “I can’t hold this much longer and the two a you are drivin’ me crazy.”

They were driving her crazy? Wouldn’t want to do that. Shrugging easily, Serena threw the car at the shoulder of the road and skidded to a halt. “Happy?” she asked, her eyes widened innocently at the two disheveled passengers currently glaring her into oblivion.

Michael looked away. “Friggin’ ecstatic.”

**************************

“I brought you something to eat.”

“I’m not hungry,” Max replied without opening his eyes. Was it too much to ask for everyone to just leave him alone to get a good night’s sleep?

Isabel hesitated and then set the tray on Max’s nightstand. “I wanted to…I wanted to thank you for, you know. For Alex.”

Max nodded tiredly. “You don’t have to thank me. He’s fine, that’s what’s important.

“Yeah.” Isabel nodded slowly and then pressed on. “Max, we need to talk.”

Max opened his eyes and sat up, feeling the world tilting around him as he did so. He grabbed a corner of the mattress in an attempt to keep himself from falling off the bed, and glared unfairly at his sister for her part in forcing him up. He’d never been this weak before, not even after healing Liz. He closed his eyes, waiting for the world to right itself. “Not right now, Iz, I…”

“Yes, right now,” Isabel insisted, her voice brittle.

“Isabel, I can’t talk about this now,” Max ground out.

“You don’t want to talk about this now,” Isabel hissed. “Did you see her when they came back from dinner? God, Max do you even care…”

“Of course I care! What do you want from me?”

“I want you to go down there with me so we can just tell them!” Isabel begged.

“What do you think Michael would say about that plan?

“This isn’t about Michael and you know it,” Isabel replied angrily.

Max took a deep breath and stood up to meet his sister’s tear brightened eyes. “We can talk about it later,” he told her, his frustration bleeding into his voice. “Right now…”

Isabel caught her brother as he stumbled against her. “Max what…”

Max caught himself quickly, and shrugged out of his sister’s grasp. “I’m just tired,” he said, embarrassed.

“Max, you’re…God, you’re shivering!”

“I’m fine.”

“You’re not. What if…”

“I said I was fine,” Max snapped, exhaustion pulling at his soul.

Isabel shook her head, suddenly noticing the pallor of his skin. “Max, you’re not ok.” She pressed the back of her hand to his forehead, but he shoved it away. She took a step back, surprised. “Max…”

“I’ll call you if I need you,” he echoed stubbornly, needing nothing more than sleep, barely aware of the sharp tug of sense recall that pulled him deeper, warning him. Readying him.

Isabel stared at his familiar, closed off expression, then raised her chin. “Fine,” she said tightly, turning on her heel and sweeping from the room.

Max closed his eyes and sank back on the bed. He should probably go after her, he thought, falling back against his pillow. He wanted to go after her. Anything to avoid…but it was already too late. Zahn had given in before, but he was not to be ignored now.


*****************************


“What’s that?” Michael asked curiously, grateful for the tacit agreement that let him and Serena put aside their sniping until they were both awake enough to make it worthwhile. He dragged a tired hand down his face, watching as she continued to fiddle with something under the dash.

“Radar detecta and wide-band receiva,” Serena replied. “I wanna know what they’re sayin’ ‘bout the pyrotechnics earlier.”

“Right.” Michael forced himself to sit up straighter.

Serena gave a low whistle as she listened to the chatter over the wire. “Sounds like half the Roswell Sheriff’s department’s at the scene,” she commented.

Michael listened for another second as Hansen spoke over the radio, directing the cops on the scene. Or trying to. “Nope,” he said with a yawn. “That’d be all of them.” Great. Max was going to have a fit.

Sighing, Serena pulled the car to a halt on the shoulder of the road. “Any way around ‘em? They aint got an APB on the Eldo yet,” she mused, still slightly surprised by that. “Given a choice, I’d ratha deal with the cops lata ratha than soona. Plus, we gotta fix my car,” she murmured with a sad glance at the front fender. She didn’t even want to think about the crumpled rear end.

“I’m all for later myself,” Michael muttered. He shifted uncomfortably in the front seat and pointed up the road. “We can take the next exit. It’ll get us around the motel, but it’ll take longer to get back to town.”

Serena shrugged. “I got time,” she said around her yawn.

Michael nodded. “Never been a fan of first period myself.”


********************************


Shifting restlessly, Max fought the impatient draw of memory. But he had no energy left. No choice. He fell into the embrace of the past, hating the warmth, hating the familiarity, hating that at moments like this it was more real even than his own life.

His life. Max snorted bitterly. It didn’t belong to him anymore, he realized disconsolately even as he fell deeper. Maybe it never had.

Max rolled to his side, letting out a mournful sigh as cold fingers of recollection closed around his soul, eclipsing everything but the bone deep sense of duty that now defined him. Zahn’s legacy, he acknowledged acerbically.

Zahn’s eyes narrowed. “Larek? You’re certain?”

“No,” Raath admitted. “Which is why I need more time.”

“There is no more time,” Zahn snapped. “I want you back in the capital.”

“Soon.”

“Now,” Zahn countered, studying his friend’s haggard expression. “I’m unwilling to press this issue further at the moment. Get back to the Capital with what you have and we’ll go from there.

“No. Zahn, we cannot wait them out. Something has awakened their confidence.” Raath hesitated and then continued flatly. “The Talora have been contacted, they gather as we speak.”

“Rumors and innuendo,” Zahn dismissed. “I refuse to fear…”

“Then you’re a fool,” Raath pronounced bitterly. “ The legends do not exaggerate their skill. And you should not dismiss the rumors so quickly.”

Zahn swallowed hard, his Seer’s chanting words sing-songing sharply through his brain.


“Dismiss the rumors, dismiss your power, dismiss your rule, your future…Dismiss, dismiss, dismiss!” The Seer paused, her iridescent eyes flashing with the first onset of a haunting madness. “There’s little left to do, Your Highness, save pray.”

“Zahn!”

“I’m sorry, I…”

Raath shook his head, forcibly restraining his temper. “Khivar’s got everyone thinking about that damn prophecy. Everyone. And no one can stand the thought of the Granolith controlled by alien hands. They consider it unjust.”

“As do I,” Zahn snapped.

“I’m not so sure that even matters anymore,” Raath said tiredly. He shook his head, dragging a hand down his face. He’d always accused Zahn of being blind to what he didn’t want to see, but it seemed he was just as bad. Because it was already too late. The situation was worse than either of them had imagined.

Zahn blinked. Having never seen defeat on Raath’s face he had no idea how to respond to it. “What do you suggest?” he asked quietly.

Raath laughed. What did he suggest? What was left?

Zahn froze, a terrible fear gripping his heart even before Raath spoke.

“Appeal to the Fates,” Raath said softly, suggesting something he’d never bothered doing himself, not even on a battlefield. “There’s little left to do but pray.”


Max sucked in a deep breath, his lungs burning with the sudden intake of oxygen. He felt like he hadn’t taken a deep breath in years. Shaking his head, he fought to loose the cloying remnants of Zahn’s fear. He had enough to worry about, he didn’t need the pressure of another time, another planet, another King. Another person, he declared intractibly, ignoring the distant pounding in his head as he focused on separating himself from Zahn.

Taking a deep breath, Max looked about his room, clinging to the familiar shadows. And finding little to recommend the reality that was his. His. He let out a bitter snort, even as he gritted his teeth against the knocking on the door. Couldn’t she even give him his nightmares?

“Isabel, I swear to God…” Max growled angrily, swinging his legs over the side of the bed, determined to convince her to leave him the hell alone. And then he stilled with the realization that she wasn’t knocking on his door. Not that Isabel was likely to be outside knocking on his…window? He stared at it in disbelief. She’d called Michael? His temper flared even higher. Stalking to the window, he pulled the curtain aside with a snap. And his impatience died a quick death.

“Liz.”
The fact that we are fools is duly noted...
But must that be our epitaph?

-SRC


I'd be an idiot if I weren't less than pleased about being doomed.

- Warren Zevon
User avatar
Pathos
Enthusiastic Roswellian
Posts: 49
Joined: Tue May 28, 2002 1:13 pm
Location: Chicago, IL

Post by Pathos »

Hey all -

Just gonna post and run - this part has been making me crazy! Grrr. :mad: Still not completely happy with it, but if I don't get it out now, I never will. Oh, well. :roll:

Thanks for all the FB. I'm so glad ya'll are still with me on this one. I know it's a rough ride. We're looking at starting that turn around, I swear. :wink:

See ya soon.

Pathos


******************Part 19************

“Max.”

Liz paused to take her first deep breath in hours and promptly forgot every awkward excuse she’d considered using to explain her presence at his window. They didn’t matter, she realized, finding his distressed gaze. All that mattered was that he needed her.

“What happened?” Max asked wearily. The way this night was going he half expected Liz’s troubled expression to be the first sign of the invasion. Bracing a hand against the bedroom wall, he reached to help her through his open window and then staggered back as she fell against him, her arms twining tightly around his neck.

“What happened?” Liz echoed in disbelief, tears gathering in her eyes as she stood on tiptoe and pulled him close. “I talked to Alex,” she whispered against his throat, feeling the dull thrum of his pulse pulling her own heartbeat back under control. “Thank you, Max. Thank you.”

Exhaling roughly, Max closed his eyes, exhaustion forgotten as his senses flooded with her presence. “It’s ok,” he whispered, gently stroking her hair. “Everything’s ok, now.” He held her more tightly, his heart hammering as he gave voice to the lie. Nothing was ok, especially not now.

Liz nodded, allowing a sad smile. Everything was ok because she was cradled in his arms and hiding from the world. But she couldn’t just walk away, not when he was still trembling. Trembling?

Taking a deep breath, Liz loosened her grip, a vague panic spreading with cold precision through her entire body. It was different, this feeling of dread, stronger even than the anxiety that had brought her to his side. “What’s wrong?” She asked her concern escalating when Max swayed unsteadily on his feet.

“I’m fine.”

Liz shook her head, her eyes narrowing on his pale features. “You’re not fine, ” She countered, quickly wrapping her arms around his waist when he took a step away from her and promptly stumbled. She swallowed hard, supporting his weight and fighting the challenge to her own equilibrium. “Will you just tell me what’s wrong?” she pleaded, her heart pounding in her chest. She felt suddenly overwhelmed, hollow and searching desperately for something she didn’t even think she’d find. It frightened her, the desolation, but with a distant understanding she realized that the feeling wasn’t coming from her. “Max?”

Max sat down heavily on his bed, slumping forward as Liz sank to her knees in front of him after carefully extricating herself from the arm slung around her shoulders. “Nothing’s wrong, I’m just tired. Really tired. I’ll be fine in the morning,” he assured her, his head dropping into his hands. He didn’t want to look at her, didn’t want her to see how wrong he was. Dawn certainly wasn’t going to make this fine.

Liz nodded, completely unconvinced. “Max…” Cupping his face gently between her hands she leaned forward, her uneasiness growing the longer his gaze remained fixed on the floor, the longer the cold stretched between them. “Please…” She wasn’t even sure what she was asking for until he raised his head, until his gaze found hers. Until his soul found hers. And she was helpless to deny him.

Max exhaled roughly. The tantalizing brush of her spirit against his obliterated his intention to remain aloof, obliterated everything but the need to feel her closer. He hadn’t even realized he was reaching for her until she responded, until the growing strength of her instinctive grasp silenced his uncertainty. His entire being stilled as the connection unfurled slowly, steadily between them.

Liz felt relieved tears sting her eyes as his distance gave way to a hesitant wonder. His hands fell to her shoulders, sliding along her upper arms and pulling her closer. But it was the hesitant exploration of his soul that held her immobile. He hadn’t been lost. They hadn’t been lost.

It shouldn’t have been such a relief.

Max sank into her luminous gaze, his lips touching hers ever so briefly before he gave up the pretense. The brush of her lips was strangely gentle, calming, and as hesitant as their first kiss. The energy that drew them together, as unstoppable. Gathering her closer, he deepened the kiss, feeling the solid reflection of his own longing behind her momentary hesitation.

Closing her eyes, Liz felt their connection spark to vibrant life as she gave herself over to the kiss. No longer tentative, it joined them together with a shifting ebb and flow, demanding their attention, their compliance. And narrow-minded as it was, it didn’t give a thought to the consequences, couldn’t think of anything but the interlocking slide of their souls.

Max moaned low in his throat, his mouth opening over hers as he fell back against the bed. And she followed. He’d have wept with relief if he hadn’t been otherwise occupied. He rolled to his side, oblivious to everything but the solid weight of her body against his.

He pulled away for half a second, needing the moment to catch his breath as their limbs tangled together, his knee coming to rest between her legs. He could feel the heat at the juncture of her thighs, feel every plaintive sigh she exhaled as she moved restlessly against him. Chest heaving, he fought to control the desire that only fueled the delicate balance of soul playing out between them. It was almost too much. And then one hand slid under his shirt, grazing his abs as it sought his pounding heartbeat. She called to him, silently pleaded for another kiss.

It would never be enough.

Liz whimpered against his lips. The slow, wet glide of his tongue against hers left her trembling, her hips rocking against his as he crushed her against him. A thrill of uncertainty swept briefly through her system, but the heart beating under her palm reassured her. The rising heat of Max’s soul threading through hers demanded more, begged for everything she had to give. She could feel his need for her acquiescence, her reassurance. Her. It was the same instinctive request her soul was making of him. Dimly, she recognized the danger. And then his palm flattened against her abdomen, warm and bracing, his energy too alluring to ignore.

Breath coming in ragged gasps, Liz met Max’s eyes in the moonlight, every inch of her alive with the feel of his body against hers even as her soul responded to his, answering, questioning, needing, as much as he did. As much as they always would.

It was insanity. Even as his lips claimed hers once again, she knew it was wrong, but…God, why did it have to feel so right? And why did she wish she could forget everything but the way he felt against her?

Max closed his eyes, feeling suddenly crowded and guilty. As if every life hanging in the balance of their actions looked on in grim disapproval. He sighed against her lips, wishing he could make her not care…wishing he could make himself not care. But already their responsibility was suffocating the longing that had drawn them together. Already he could feel a cold desolation seeping into the kiss, stealing their warmth, stealing everything but the insistent shadow of a connection that refused to relinquish its hold on either of them.

Liz took a steadying breath, her lips tingling from the weight of his kiss. The subtle intimacy that still linked them left her vulnerable to everything she wanted but couldn’t have. Particularly in light of the way his spirit was quietly slipping through hers, gently wending its way into the deepest part of her heart against her…well, against her last screaming shred of common sense, if not exactly against her will. Breathing heavily, Liz shook her head, longing to follow the beat of his heart wherever it led. Knowing she couldn’t.

“I know.” Max swallowed hard, reading the conflict in her eyes and hating that he’d put it there. He took a deep breath, offering a sad half-smile as he forced himself to drop his hands and sit up. Away from her.

Liz blinked back her tears, making a small attempt to straighten her appearance. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, hating that they couldn’t even look at each other without starting something that could never be finished. “Maybe…maybe I shouldn’t have come,” she mumbled, standing up. The dark unrest that had drawn her to him was gone and if she didn’t leave now she’d only end up finding another reason to stay.

“Wait, I…” Max attempted to rise and found himself reeling, making a dizzy grab for something to steady his balance.

“Max, what…” Liz caught his elbow and eased him back down. She watched him indecisively for a moment and then sat back down. “What’s wrong?” she asked again.

Max gave in to the cowardly impulse to look away and attempted a nonchalant shrug. “I’m…”

“Fine. You said that before,” Liz snapped, eyeing him in skeptical frustration. He clearly wasn’t fine, but she didn’t need the connection feeding hungrily off their proximity to know that he didn’t want to talk about it. Sighing helplessly, she gave in to his silent entreaty. “Well, can I at least…do you need anything?”

You. Max cleared his throat. “No. I’m, I’m good.”

“What about some warm milk or something?” Liz asked, rashly postponing their imminent goodbye and completely unconcerned about where she’d get warm milk if he said yes.

Wrinkling his nose, Max looked at her askance. At least they’d changed the subject. “Warm milk?”

Liz rolled her eyes at the comically revolted expression on his face. “It’s to help you sleep, ” she told him wryly.

“I know that, but it’s still disgusting. Not even Tabasco can do anything for the taste.”

Liz nodded, her smile faltering with the lighthearted turn of their conversation. She’d come to make sure he was ok, and now that she knew he was… “I should go,” she told him softly.

Max watched her go, feeling the rise of a now-familiar panic as she began to walk away. “Please.” The hoarse word was embarrassingly loud in the stillness of the room. “I…”

Liz turned around, an oddly hopeful anticipation fluttering through her stomach. “What?”

Max felt his stomach dip and tighten, rumbling anxiously as he held her gaze. He could read the incongruity in her eyes, the all-powerful echo of a responsibility that should never have been hers. He looked away, lost within his need for her. And the need to stop hurting her.

But then she was back in front of him, reaching out to trace gentle fingers across his brow. Max exhaled slowly, his head falling forward when she sat down. He sighed against the warmth of her small hand as it drifted to massage the tension from his shoulders, her caress a sudden and vivid reminder of those first few minutes after fleeing Eagle Rock. She’d been so strong that night, more concerned about him than anything else even as she’d steeled herself for whatever was coming. God, and it never stopped coming. Even now.

He knew he should let her go. He should say goodnight and tell her to go. He should do a lot of things. But, cowardly though it might be, he knew suddenly that he couldn’t. Not to save his life or their sanity. “There is something I need,” he hedged, looking up into her tremulous gaze.

Liz nodded, her trepidation lost amidst the sense of expectancy rolling through her soul. “What? Max, all you have to do is tell me.”

“I don’t want to be alone,” Max admitted. “Could you just…stay for a little while longer? As a friend? I…I promise not to maul you. Again.”

Liz nodded silently, her eyes glued to his. Friends. The word echoed through her brain, a caustic reminder that she couldn’t relax into their connection. It wasn’t hers to keep. But how was she supposed to remember that when he looked at her like…like this moment would never end. “We’ll always be friends,” she reassured him solemnly, already feeling her control slip in response to the temptation heating her blood. “I’ll stay. For a little while longer.”

Max took a deep breath. “Thank you,” he whispered. It wasn’t the heady completion of their full connection, he knew, but the whisper of her spirit through his was enough. It had to be.

“On one condition.”

Max blinked. Condition?

Liz met his eyes seriously, using the spark of their connection to remind him that he couldn’t hide his anxiety from her. “Tell me what’s bothering you.”

Max shrugged. “I’m just tired,” he prevaricated.

Liz’s brows drew together in silent reflection. She could remember how strained he’d looked after healing her, and later, how he’d struggled to help her reach her grandmother. She chewed her lower lip guiltily as she tried to soothe nerves pulled taut with the weight of his exhaustion. “Did you feel like this after you healed me?” she asked, her voice small.

Max took a deep breath as he considered her question. Healing her had been the only sacred experience in his life. At least until... He shook his head. “Not even close.”

“What, um, what was it like?” Liz pressed shyly, her soul warming with his rough exclamation and the subdued wonder lighting his eyes.

“It’s hard to explain,” Max mumbled self-consciously. “I mean I was tired, I guess…but…” How did he explain everything that one touch had meant to him? And then he looked up and found his safety in the heat of her gaze. “It felt so good,” he admitted softly, feeling her tickled understanding even before the smile spread across her face. “Knowing that I’d saved your life, knowing that you were as beautiful inside as I’d always thought...” His soul sighed, feeling heavy and far away with the memory. “It was kind of a relief, actually. At least I knew I wasn’t crazy for feeling the way I…feel.”

Max paused for an achy breath, watching her smile fade. He continued without pause, desperate to reclaim their rapport. “Of course, then I realized that I’d have to face you again in school. Then I was terrified,” he tried to joke. He accepted the brief smile she offered, and pressed on, not wanting the silence to make her uncomfortable. “What about you?”

Liz raised her brows in surprise. “I was never scared of you, Max.”

“I know, I mean…what did it feel like for you?”

Liz hesitated, unable to drop his gaze and feeling strangely vulnerable and safe all at the same time. “It felt…amazing,” she told him. “Like my heart had been touched by angel wings. I had all this energy, you know? Like I’d never be able to get to sleep. And like…like I’d never been awake before you touched me. I was half convinced that I was crazy,” Liz admitted, feeling her embarrassment stain her cheeks.

“Angel wings?” Max repeated incredulously, covering his embarrassed laugh with a cough. No one had ever compared him to an angel. And he’d go to his grave before he admitted to anyone how much it moved him. It was oddly liberating to know that she’d treasured that first, skimming touch of their souls as much as he had.

“Shut up. It’s not like ‘alien’ was any more likely. Angel was the first thing that popped into my head.” Liz rolled her eyes. “I don’t know why,” she told him wryly, her soul hushed within their reality. “And then you showed me…you and it just felt so…”

“Right,” Max finished softly, watching her duck her head to take a deep breath. He wanted to apologize, but he wasn’t remotely sorry. “Liz, I…”

“But did you feel like this after you healed me? Were you this tired?” Liz broke in, stubbornly cutting through their burgeoning emotion. They needed to get back on track before…they needed to get back on track.

Letting out a frustrated sigh, Max shook his head. Friends, he reminded himself. End of the world, alien invasion, traveling through time to make sure it doesn’t happen…any of that ringing a freakin’ bell Evans? Why was it that the simple touch of her hand made him want to let it all go to hell? He cleared his throat at her stubborn, expectant expression. “No. I wasn’t this tired,” he answered dutifully.

“And?” Liz prodded, surprised by his continued reluctance to talk to her. “Max…” He was terrified of her reaction, she realized, finally swimming through his insecurity. “It can’t be that bad. Just tell me.”

Can’t be that bad. Right. “Something was fighting me,” Max rushed out after a deep breath.

Liz blinked. “Fighting you? What do you mean, fighting you?”

“When I tried to heal Alex I could feel something trying to…stop me. Something wanted to…” kill him, Max finished silently, watching Liz’s expressive eyes widen in horror.

Liz shook her head, a numbing disbelief beginning to spiral through her mind as she stood to pace in front of him. “Something?” she questioned, her voice rising with her sudden dread. “Max, what do you mean something? He is ok, right?”

Max nodded quickly. “He is, I swear,” he told her, reaching out to catch her hand and still her pacing, chancing the contact in the hopes that she’d accept his sincerity. “Liz, I promise, I won’t let anything happen to Alex.”

Liz nodded. Ok, just calm down. Freaking out isn’t going to help anyone. Not her, not Max and not…Oh, God, Alex. She closed her eyes. She just needed to think. She sank down next to Max. “There’s more, isn’t there?” she asked hoarsely, her heart clenching fearfully as she grazed his uncertainty.

“Yeah.” Max swallowed hard. “When I healed him I felt…it wasn’t normal. It was different from healing a bullet hole or a burn or…”

“It was an anurism,” Liz interrupted. “Alex said it…”

“It wasn’t.” Max told her softly. “At least not a normal anurism. There was something causing it, something alien,” he admitted in soft shame. “And there was something alien trying to keep me from saving him. I almost didn’t.”

Something alien. He almost didn’t…Liz felt as if she’d been punched in the stomach. Something alien. She’d brought Alex into this and now something alien… “No,” she said simply.

No? Max opened his mouth and then closed it again, surprised by the sudden crush of her fingers. With alarming clarity, he felt her desperate need for him to be wrong. But he wasn’t. He laced their fingers together gently. “Liz, listen to me…”

“Don’t tell me I’m wrong, Max, think about it,” Liz snapped. “It doesn’t make any sense. This is Alex we’re talking about. Why hurt him? What’s the point? It’s Alex,” she repeated desperately. Why didn’t he understand? Why didn’t he agree with her?

Max took a deep breath, understanding the forlorn ache stretching across their connection. She wanted to believe that everything was still ok. She wanted him to convince her. He hated that he couldn’t do it. “I know it’s Alex, but…”

“No but’s, Max. There’s absolutely no legitimate reason for Alex to be a…target.”

“Topolsky targeted him,” Max reminded her.

Liz fell silent, tears springing to her eyes. This was her fault. She’d brought Alex into this and now he was a… “Why?” she demanded angrily. “Tell me why. I did…I did everything I was supposed to and now…” she swallowed hard, her anger fading to bleakness. “I just need to know why.”

“I don’t know.” Max sighed heavily, looking away from her sorrowful reproach. She didn’t need to say it, he already knew that not knowing wasn’t good enough. “I don’t know anything anymore.”

Liz stared, her breath stolen with the suffocating rush of his hopeless regret. And suddenly she knew.

Max nodded. “They’re coming. It’s coming,” he informed her dully. The end of the world. It was the truth he’d been avoiding all night, longer really. All week, it was the reality he’d been unable to accept. Until Alex almost became the first casualty in a war he wasn’t ready to fight. A war he didn’t think he’d ever be ready to fight.

“We did what we were supposed to,” Liz whispered, devastated.

“Apparently it wasn’t enough.

Liz blinked back her tears. She didn’t know why it came as such a shock, but it did. She shook her head stubbornly, ignoring the sad patience he was employing to wait out her denial “Maybe we’re overreacting,” she suggested hopefully.

“We’re not. Think about it,” Max echoed pointedly. “Serena shows up and not a week later we find out that Alex…that he’s been hurt by an alien…” He shook his head helplessly. “Don’t you think this is how it started the first time?” he questioned sharply, rising to his feet, his frustration feeding off the turmoil of her soul. “Liz…they’re coming and, and we’re still…”

“Helpless,” Liz finished, her anxiety strangely tempered by the rush of his panic. He was maintaining his control, but only barely, and the immediacy of his agitation culled an odd calm from her own fear.

“Helpless,” Max affirmed, feeling well and truly cornered by both his future-self and the current circumstances. He needed to do something, but…how was he supposed to make a decision when he knew full well that he’d failed so spectacularly before? “Liz, we’re not ready for this.” He was strangely relieved to hear the words out loud, to see that she knew. “I’m not ready.”

Spent, Max collapsed back onto the bed, his shoulders sagging. “What am I gonna do?” He looked up to meet Liz’s luminous gaze as he felt her press against his side, the warmth of her body a comfort, the spark of their connection a necessity.

“What did I do before?” Max questioned urgently. “Didn’t he say anything, about what I was supposed to do to stop…it?”

Liz took a deep breath, searching desperately for something to tell him, anything that would ease the desolation she could feel stealing through his soul. “He couldn’t say anything more than…he could only tell me what I needed to know to…”. She bit her lip, her soul cold with the future bearing down on the both of them. “He just said that you needed…Tess. To be strong.”

“Right.” Max muttered. “Real helpful.”

Max shook his head, considering Liz silently. “Does she still scare you?” he asked suddenly, feeling his mistake in the immediate tension that pulled her soul taut as she considered a retreat he couldn’t bear at the moment. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything.”

“Max…” Liz shook her head. They couldn’t do this now, they couldn’t start to fall apart just when they all needed to stick together. “We need her,” she said as if by rote, the words tasting like ash in her mouth. “Your future self said that we needed her.”

Max looked away, dejected. “Yeah? Well, he should have come up with a better plan,” he said. “Tess is just as vulnerable as the rest of us. Nicholas mindwarped her,” he reminded Liz. “What am I supposed to do with that?”

Liz paused for a deep breath, needing to clear her head. Or at least find the rhythm of her own emotion so she didn’t fall completely into his frustration. And his loneliness “I don’t know,” she admitted softly.

Max blinked, surprised by her simple confession and the slight easing of his tension in the wake of it. He sighed, bemused and wondering why in the hell her admission made him feel better. “This is insane,” he muttered. “I need to do better than ‘I don’t know’.”

Liz nodded. “Not tonight, you don’t,” she told him, exhaling a relieved breath as his ire began to fade, leaving him strangely vulnerable. And so tired. She stilled, looking down to where their fingers were laced together. She hadn’t even been aware of reaching for his hand.

Max stared at Liz’s bent head, his thoughts scattered and vague as he held her hand, his spirit finally relaxing amidst the safety they only ever felt together. He shook his head wearily. He didn’t have time to relax. “We need all the time we can get,” he argued half-heartedly. “I still have to figure how to deal with the Skins, and…Rath…Serena…an invasion…” he listed, growing even more tired as he went.

“Max, stop.” Liz shook her head, offering him a brief smile. She didn’t question her own unaccountable certainty, she simply used it to allow her sincerity to bleed through their connection to him. “You’ll figure it out.”

Max shook his head at her, stunned by her confidence. “I’m not so sure,” he mumbled.

“I am. You’re just not going to do it tonight. Tonight you’re going to go to sleep.”

Max blinked, dazed by the fact that she seemed to believe that was the end of the conversation. Everything that rested on their shoulders and she wanted him to go to sleep? “I can’t just go to...”

“Max,” Liz countered sternly. “You’re exhausted, you’re cranky…”

“Cranky?”

“You’re power’s shot, and you need sleep. I can feel it,” Liz told him. “And so can you.” Her eyes narrowed on his uneasy features, surprised by the rush of alarm across their connection at the thought of going to sleep. “Are your nightmares back?” she hazarded.

Max met her discomfited gaze for a brief second and then looked away. He couldn’t talk about this with her.

Liz sighed her defeat. He wasn’t going to talk, and her presence wasn’t letting him sleep. “I really should get home,” she whispered. But his grip on her only tightened. Even after she dropped his hand.

“It’s not the nightmares,” Max rushed out, willing to say anything she wanted as long as she didn’t leave him alone. “Not exactly,” he finished, for honesty’s sake.

“Then what is it?”

“Memories. Zahn’s memories.” Max closed his eyes against the brief heartbreak he read in her eyes. She masked it quickly, but he could still feel the emptiness that echoed through her at the reminder of who he was. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said anything.”

“No it’s ok, I…” Liz took a deep breath. It was strange. She’d figured that she’d be able to feel it when he started to drift away from her, but that wasn’t the case. She could still feel his warmth and his strength, still burrow into that place in his heart reserved for her alone, still feel him even amidst the shadows that wanted to obscure who he was. “I know you’re working with…on that.” She said gently, nodding her understanding. But he didn’t even look at her. She swallowed hard, disturbed by depth of his uncertainty. “Maybe this is supposed to happen. You came back to make sure that things happened differently, maybe…”

“Please don’t do that,” Max requested miserably.

“What?” Liz asked, her attempt at nonchalance falling flat. “Max, it makes sense. I mean if Tess left that first time you probably didn’t, you know…and…”

“Don’t tell me what’s supposed to happen. It’s bad enough hearing it from her. Don’t tell me I’m supposed to be someone else, that my life belongs to someone else, that…that I don’t have any choice. Don’t tell me that I…I’m not Zahn!” Max swallowed hard, realizing how loud he’d become only after the silence stretched out in the wake of his brief tantrum. God, what was wrong with him? “I’m sorry,” he told Liz, staring at the floor in embarrassment. “I didn’t mean…”

“I know who you are, Max,” Liz interrupted, framing his face with her hands, refusing to let him look away. “I’ll always know,” she promised, electricity firing her blood when he leaned into the cradle of her touch and gently kissed her palm.

Max took a deep breath, feeling the steady reassurance of her presence seep into the very essence of who he was, gently easing everything but the feel of her heart, from his mind. She would know. She would always know.

“We’ll worry about tomorrow after you’ve slept,” Liz said, trying to keep her voice light. She couldn’t convince herself that this was a mistake, but she had no idea how she’d go back to sitting next to him without…her soul tightened around his. She didn’t want to think about it, didn’t want to think about anything but the warmth of his presence inside her. She closed her eyes. “I should go,” Liz whispered, her voice rough with tears.

“Please don’t,” Max said, too tired to fight the panic that was quickly resurfacing. “Just…stay.”

Liz shook her head, her heart trembling with what he seemed to be asking. “I…”

“As a friend,” Max rushed out, ashamed of his own desperation. And wholly unable to quiet it. “Just talk to me until I’m asleep. Please?”

“I’m going to bore you to sleep, now?” Liz tried to joke, doing her best to ignore the thump of her heart at the thought of sleeping with him again. And then waking up in his arms… Bad plan. “I really can’t,” she told him firmly. Not even her rationale could convince her that friends slept together, though it seemed to be working overtime to try.

“I’ll sleep on the floor,” Max continued as if she hadn’t spoken. “You’re the one who keeps telling me I need sleep,” he reminded her, ignoring her indignant expression. “I don’t think I’ll be able to get to sleep if…”

“You’re resorting to blackmail now?” Liz asked incredulously, feeling a treacherous indecision sweep her mind. This was such a bad plan.

“I’d do it for you, if you asked,” Max pointed out, nodding seriously, though he guessed she could feel the giddiness that lit his soul at her hesitation. She couldn’t leave him. He supposed he ought to feel guilty. He didn’t.

Liz bit her lip. She was so lost. “Gee, thanks.” She sighed. Their tone was lighter, but she could still sense his underlying panic, his fear of being alone with himself. And her own need to stay as close to him as she could. For as long as she could. “Just until you’re asleep,” she told him sternly.

“Scouts honor,” Max agreed, rising quickly to pull out the sleeping bag before she could change her mind.

Liz snorted. “When were you a boyscout?” she asked absently, vaguely fascinated as she watched him get settled for the night.

“I’ll sign up tomorrow.” Max replied, accepting the extra pillow from his bed. “Think they give merit badges for stopping an alien invasion?”

Liz scooted back against the wall and settled herself, cross-legged on his bed, wrapped in the last of his warmth. It was disconcerting, how quickly their connection was fading even with just this distance between them. And how quickly it could be called back to life with just…stop it. “They damn well better,” she murmured. You will not cry, she ordered herself. You will not cry.

“Liz?” Max sat up, resting his arms along the edge of his bed and meeting her dark eyes, hating the tears that shimmered in the moonlight. He reached out and gently wiped the moisture from her lashes.

“Yeah?” Liz sniffled softly.

“Thanks.”

“That’s what…” Liz stopped. Even more than he didn’t want to hear it, she didn’t want to say it. She gave him a watery smile. “You’re welcome. Now what should I talk about?”

Max shrugged, desperate to lighten her heart. “Something boring. Biology.” He hid his grin at Liz’s sharp gasp, relieved that her melancholy paled with her affront.

“Jerk.” Liz muttered succinctly, reaching out to shove him back down against the sleeping bag as she resettled herself. “Biology is not boring. And furthermore…”

Linking his hands behind his head, Max lay back, listening to the rhythm of her voice. Closing his eyes, he focused on the faint hint of her heartbeat. If he listened hard enough he’d swear he could feel it echoing through him. He could listen to her all night, and frankly, he planned to. He’d sleep tomorrow. Destiny could just back the hell off and give them one more night.


**************************************


Silently fuming, Tess stared at the ceiling, her mind racing with the events of the evening. How the hell had she lost control so completely? What was she thinking?

Every move she’d made over the last six months had been coolly calculated to bring her closer to her goal, every baby step a worthwhile move in the right direction, but tonight… Shaking her head in self disgust, Tess acknowledged the truth. Tonight she’d screwed up. Big time.

But how was she to know that Alex was going to end up at the Evans’s? How was she to know that Max would find a way around the block she’d placed on her warp? Truth be told, she hadn’t even realized that there was a way around that block. But he’d found it. And now, instead of Alex’s death shoving Liz and Max further apart, she was convinced that his saving the big dork was going to do nothing but bring them closer together. And they were already too close.

Brows furrowed, Tess wondered again what had gone wrong. Max and Liz had almost been a thing of the past, even before she started adding her own small push in the right direction to Max’s memory retrieval. It wasn’t even that large a push, she told herself. It was where he’d been heading anyway. But the last few days…the last few days he’d stopped dead in his tracks. She frowned pensively. They weren’t together, but the lethal animosity that had been building steadily in Max’s soul was suddenly gone, replaced with…replaced with something she couldn’t define. But it wasn’t good. She knew it wasn’t good.

And now he’d saved Alex. Tess snorted in disgust. He was such a freakin’ white knight. With everyone but her. Shaking her head, she purposefully shoved her enmity aside. She had bigger problems to worry about at the morning. Like Alex, for example.

Alex, who had fought her and lost. Alex, who had been a part of her activities for months now. Alex, who knew more about her plans than anyone.

Alex. Who was now a liability.


**************************************


The bloodthirsty roar of the crowd washed over him, fueling his anger. Zahn swallowed hard, his jaw clenching with the effort of remaining aloof, as was required.

“There is no other choice, my husband.”



***************************************

No! Max’s soul cried out its denial, clinging to the somnolent presence still threaded through his soul. No. She was still there to hold the memories at bay, to hold him away from them. Why…how…

But Zahn was in no mood for questions. And even amidst his dissent, Max saw the vision focus more sharply, becoming more clear than it ever had before.


***************************************


“I’m well aware of my choices,” Zahn told his wife, his tone cold as he stepped forward, grateful when her fingers fell from his arm. He stole a glance at Raath and found his oldest friend frozen in place, his features stoic. But Zahn could feel the furious anguish washing through his General. Following his gaze, he looked down into the square. Only Vilondra, he thought ruefully, noting his sister’s regal bearing and defiant expression. Only Vilondra would show up to her execution in the same gown she’d worn to his coronation, wearing the circlet she’d donned for her wedding. Only Vilondra, he thought sadly.

“You don’t have to be here for this,” Zahn told Raath quietly.

“I do,” Raath contradicted. “I’ll not grant Khivar another…”

Zahn nodded, understanding though Raath refused to finish the sentence after his voice broke. Their respect for tradition was too much in doubt as it was. “I’m sorry.”

Raath snorted. “She betrayed Antar. I should be offering my apologies. I should be offering my head.”

“You did,” Zahn reminded him quietly. “And I still refuse to accept it.”

“Zahn!”

Aeva’s sharp hiss cut him to the core. There was no more time, he knew. He stared down at his sister. She knew it too, he could see it in the brief trembling of her lips, the deep inhalation of breath. The defiance. Always the defiance, he thought sadly.

“Your Majesty…”

Zahn blinked, exhaling roughly as he turned his attention to the executioner. No more time. So much lost and no time to regain it. He nodded stoically.

The executioner turned back to Vilondra, his eyes raking her form. The King had stripped her of her title, The General, his protection, but staring at her now, he could hardly believe she wasn’t the victor. “It is customary to offer an apology,” he reminded her.

Vilandra smiled coldy, her eyes never leaving Zahn’s face. Let him feel it, what he’d done to her. “I’ve lived my life within the boundaries of Custom,” she declared derisively, her eyes sweeping Aeva’s delicate features before she returned her gaze to her brother’s. “I choose not to die within them.”

Zahn’s jaw set, even as Raath stepped back, ostensibly to allow Aeva her place at his side. He took a deep breath, wishing his view was as obscured. By the Fates what had they come to? There wasn’t even anymore to say. His sentence had been passed at her trial. The execution was her time to speak, and she remained stubbornly silent. He nodded at her. Have it your way. You always did. “What the law has decreed, the Fates see fit to carry out.”

He watched the executioner step forward. He watched his sister steel herself. He watched.



*************************


Max awoke with a gasp, his heart slamming painfully against his ribs as he tried to forget the vision of Vilondra…Isabel… No!

Biting his lip until it bled, he finally swallowed the sob that wanted out. They were getting worse, the visions, harder to awaken from, harder to separate himself from. He closed his eyes, absently wiping the sweat from his face. Not me, not me, he chanted silently. Not…

Me.

Letting out a relieved sigh, Max focused on the one thing that separated him from Zahn, focused on the connection that defined his soul as his own. He could feel her, the gentle weight of her spirit where it dwelled with in him. Even amidst his agitated confusion, he could feel the easy welcome of her heart, the warmth that spoke of home and family. Love. The future. Everything he, Max Evans, dreamed of was currently wrapped around his soul.

And sleeping peacefully in his bed.

Sitting up, Max stared over the edge of his bed, lovingly memorizing every inch of Liz’s sleeping form. She was curled up on her side, cuddling his pillow against her chest as if she were holding on for dear life. “Told you Biology was boring,” he whispered softly, fascinated by the wisp of hair currently falling across her closed eyes.

Fighting the strong urge to awaken her with a kiss, Max lifted a hand and gently used his power to slide the wisp of hair behind her ear, his body tightening at the soft, sexy sigh she exhaled. His mouth twisted into a sad smile, remembering the last time they’d awakened together, content and happy, even with the threat of parental retribution.

He glanced at the clock. Shit. He needed to wake her so she could get home.

In a minute.

Right now he was going to allow himself the pleasure of drinking her in, of slowly memorizing every detail of her face in the last of the moonlight slipping through his window, holding her close to his heart and reveling in her own instinctive hold on him. That would all change in a minute, but for now, he relegated the picture before him to his memory.

This would be the only time Liz Parker would awaken in his bed, but for the rest of his life, he’d treasure every detail. His fingers hovered not even an inch above her skin as he slowly traced the contours of her face, feeling her soul respond though Liz had yet to awaken.

“Max?” Unable to continue laying there in silence, so close to touching him, and so very far way from being able to hold him, Liz sat up slowly, her eyes blinking open to his solemn expression. “I guess I fell asleep,” she said sheepishly, her skin still tingling with the phantom heat of his power.

“I guess.” He smiled slowly, suddenly aware that his roiling anxiety had been relegated to the back of his mind. As worried as he was, he couldn’t find the energy to feel overwhelmed, not with Liz staring at him like everything was going to be ok as long as they woke up like this every morning. He shook his head sadly, knowing it was his own mind that wanted to believe that. “I wanted to make sure you didn’t get into trouble.”

Liz nodded slowly, her eyes straying to the clock. She let out an uncomfortable groan as she forced her heavy limbs to cooperate. “My mother’s gonna kill me if she finds out about this,” she said, swinging her legs over the side of the bed and heading for the window. She hesitated on the threshold, stalling as she confronted the dark night beyond the safety of his bedroom. “You’ll go back to sleep, right?” she questioned worriedly, turning around. Only to find herself much too close to him.

“Yeah.”

Liz swallowed hard, her tongue darting out to wet her dry lips. “Promise?” she whispered.

“Promise,” Max breathed out. She was so close. And he could still feel the remnant of their connection drawing them closer, urging them to open it further. “Liz, I…”

He was going to kiss her, she could feel it. She met his eyes, feeling the warmth of his body through the thin t-shirt he wore, feeling the electricity of his presence in every one of her nerve endings. He was going to kiss her and the only thing that tempered her excitement was the dread of what would have to come next.

“Max…”

His name was a whisper, a plea, and Max nodded his mournful understanding. It was hard enough for her to go, he couldn’t make it harder. “Just…thank you. For being here,” he whispered, the tightness in his chest easing as she accepted his hug, then pulled him closer.

Liz sighed against his chest, grateful for the reserve she could feel even as her heart sank in disappointment. It was better this way, she told herself, her heart railing against the lie. “You said we were doing this together, remember?” she reminded Max.

We’re not together, Max thought miserably.

Liz bit her lip. He didn’t need to say it. They couldn’t be together. “But you’re not alone,” she averred solemnly. “I won’t ever let you be alone.”

Max nodded silently, unable to respond as he stared down into her melancholy eyes. He was afraid to get his hopes up, and completely unable to avoid doing so. He pressed his lips to her forehead in a lingering kiss. “Neither are you. We’ll make this work, I promise.”
The fact that we are fools is duly noted...
But must that be our epitaph?

-SRC


I'd be an idiot if I weren't less than pleased about being doomed.

- Warren Zevon
User avatar
Pathos
Enthusiastic Roswellian
Posts: 49
Joined: Tue May 28, 2002 1:13 pm
Location: Chicago, IL

Post by Pathos »

Hey all -

Thanks so much for all the FB. I really appreciate the fact that ya'll are sticking with me. :lol: Honestly, it's going to get better. Really soon. And because I know we all need a little, tiny break...this next chapter should be a bit easier to read - well, I think it's easier to read... :wink:

Anyhoo - have to post and run sooo, I hope you enjoy and I'll see ya'll soon.

Pathos

PS - I think someone asked if this is Dreamer insured - absolutely. I don't write anything else...probably doesn't seem like it right now, though, huh? :lol:


**************Part 20****************

“Ok, people. It’s that time of the year again,” Mr. Malloy began. “Today we’ll start reviewing everything that’s going to be on your final. So if you haven’t been paying attention all year…start now.” He paused to roll his eyes at the collective groan from his history class. “Just lay back and think of England, as they say, and we’ll get through this together,” he joked.

Max snorted, jotting the line down and underlining it with stark precision. “So that’s how it’s done,” he muttered sardonically. He hazarded a quick glance across the aisle at Liz when he felt her startled eyes come to rest on him. And then he looked up, surprised to find that the entire class had fallen silent and was now staring at…him. Apparently that was louder than he’d intended.

“Sorry,” Max said, ducking his head self-consciously as he prayed for the floor to open up and swallow him whole. Didn’t happen. Considering his luck, he was hardly shocked.

Malloy stared at the back of the classroom, too surprised by the fact that Max had opened his mouth without being called on to take him to task. He shook his head and continued. “As I was saying…”

A few minutes later, Liz shifted in her seat, attempting to look inconspicuous as she studied Max through her lowered lashes. Her brows rose slightly when she saw that he was to doodling along the margin of his notebook, not even bothering to look like he was paying attention. She chanced a look at Malloy, but he was too busy outlining a years worth of information on the board to notice. Worried, she returned her attention to Max. He still looked tired, she mused, propping her chin up in her hand. She should probably…copy the notes down from the board, that’s what she should do.

And stop looking at the solid rise and fall of Max’s chest as he slumped back in his chair, pulling his t-shirt tight across his shoulders and…

Gritting her teeth, she forced looked down at her American History book. She had to stop looking for reasons to be around him, she had to convince herself that there was no chance of falling asleep together as they had last night, wrapped around one another and...stop! This wasn’t good for either one of them. Not to mention the fact that, as trusting as her parents were, she doubted they would fall for the ‘I left a book in the café’ excuse more than once. Shaking her head, she listened to Mr. Malloy drone on, her pen scratching heavy, pinwheel shaped doodles into the margins of the book.

Sighing heavily, Max settled back in his seat and attempted to pay attention. Lie back and think of England. As if it was that freakin’ easy!

Maybe it would be, if he weren’t so selfish. Or if he could forget what it felt like to have Liz wrapped around his heart holding him safe and whole even as she let him steal into the deepest part of herself to heal the wound inflicted by time and necessity. It wasn’t even conscious anymore, their coming together. It simply…was.

Just like his responsibility simply was. Lie back and think of England. Right.

Max shook his head, defeated and suddenly unable to shake the odd vision of Tess straddling him, holding him against his bed as Liz stood over them both, her hand resting on his shoulder in grim support.

“There, there. Just lay back and think of Earth, Max.”

“Antar,” Tess corrected, an extreme pout marring the beauty of her features.

“Whatever,” Fantasy-Liz muttered, her fists clenching as she considered knocking Fantasy-Tess off the bed and onto her ass.

“Umm, Max…” Tess hinted, her eyes wandering pointedly down his body to the evidence, or lack thereof, of his arousal.

Liz shook her head, ‘Tsk-ing’ reproachfully as she studied his prone form. “Max…”

His fantasy self shrugged at both of them. “Earth doesn’t do it for me,” he told Liz apologetically. And then he turned to Tess, wiping the smugly victorious expression from her face. “Neither does Antar,” he pointed out dryly.

Liz rolled her eyes impatiently. “Well then you just need to think about what does,” she said simply, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “You have to do this, Max. We have to…” She gasped, her eyes widening in surprise when she found herself replacing Tess astride his body. “Oh,” she murmured, her eyes darkening as she settled over him, her hips rocking gently against his. “I don’t think this was supposed to be part of the plan,” she observed, her voice a sexy whisper.

Max nodded helplessly. “Yeah. That’s kind of my point.”

Fnatasy-Liz bit her lip, letting its fullness slide through her teeth before she smiled at him, her eyes unexpectedly alight with her shy, teasing mood. “I kinda like your point,” she said breathlessly, leaning forward so that her hair fell around them and her breasts came to rest against his chest. Just a few more inches and her lips would be…


Shifting restlessly in her chair, Liz let her gaze wander to the clock on the wall. For the fifth time in the last two minutes. The thing had to be broken, she decided, because it felt like she’d been sitting in this class for the last three hours. Rolling her eyes, she crossed and then un-crossed her legs, cursing her inability to focus. This was her grade, for God’s sake! She needed to concentrate.

So why couldn’t she keep her eyes off Max? And what the hell was he thinking about she wondered testily, her eyes narrowing on his expression. It clearly wasn’t American History. She crossed her legs impatiently, fanning herself lightly with her notebook. The room was too warm, suddenly. And he was too close.

When was the bell gonna ring?

She was blushing, but Max could feel the heat of her arousal and her hesitant wonder as his response drove her excitement higher, always higher. More. He let out a deep sigh. He’d give anything to really feel her, to feel her as he could now, her lips against his, her hair raining down around them, falling over the bare skin of his throat even as her lips parted on a sigh, letting her tongue slide along his and…

“Max!” Tess interrupted, her shrill voice invading their world with the pointed reminder of what he was supposed to be doing. And who he was supposed to be doing it with.

He raised his hand, fully prepared to shove Fantasy-Tess out of his head so he could get back to what was important.


“Max? Max, it’s time to…” Liz jerked her hand back from his shoulder, her eyes widening as the heat of the flash washed over her, leaving her stunned and enervated, as if she’d been there with him. As if she still was. She took a hasty step back, realizing that she should have just left with the rest of the class.

Max blinked and sat straight up in his chair, struggling to look like he’d been paying attention. But Malloy wasn’t even looking at him. In fact, he was erasing the board. “What?” he asked Liz, wondering why she was looking at him like…that. Like she knew. He closed his eyes, sinking back down in his seat. Fabulous.

“The…bell,” Liz croaked.

“I…right.” What else could he say? Sorry I can’t get you out of my head? Sorry I can’t stop thinking about the way you feel wrapped around my heart, wrapped around…right. Retreat was the only way to go with this one. Quickly gathering his books, Max fled. This was just going to have to be one of those things they pretended didn’t happen. Except he could still feel the weight of her eyes against his back, still see the smoldering promise he’d read even in that one quick look into her eyes.

It was a conspiracy he decided. The entire universe was out to get him.

“Mr. Evans.”

See? “Uh, yes sir?”

“We are planning to pay more attention tomorrow, correct?” Mr. Malloy asked pointedly.

Max nodded his sincerity. “Absolutely.”

“That’s good. Remember, those who do not learn their history are doomed to repeat it. In my class,” Mr. Malloy said dryly. He shook his head, well aware that the students lost focus about this time every year. He turned back to his classroom and stared at Liz. But these two were supposed to be two of his best students. “Miss Parker?”

Max kept going, Malloy’s words ringing with eerie precision through his brain even as the universal echo of Zahn’s determination hollowed his soul.

Those who do not learn from history are doomed to repeat it.

Arm yourself with the Past. Build the Future.


Build the Future. Max snorted softly. He wished it was that easy. He wished it was that easy and that the job belonged to someone else. He shook his head, deciding not to hold his breath. He was definitelu stuck with it. And it was definitely a Universal Conspiracy.

Liz stared after Max, her breath caught in her throat as she watched his retreat. Well, now she knew what he was thinking about. And now she knew that even if they put a whole state between them, they’d still be too close.

************************************

“Have you seen Max? Or…”

“No! Why would I have seen Max? I mean, I did. In class. But that was a while ago so, no. I have not seen Max, “ Liz rushed out with a decisive nod, wondering why she still felt guilty. It’s not like she was lying. She hadn’t seen him since History, though that was mainly because they hadn’t had a class together since then. She closed her locker and turned to face Maria. “Why are you looking for Max?” she asked innocently, as if she hadn’t just babbled an alibi no one had asked for.

Maria blinked. “O-kay.” She opened her mouth and then closed it again, deciding it was better for everyone if she just ignored Liz’s minor meltdown and continued the conversation. “I wanted to know if he knew where Michael was.”

Liz’s brows drew together as they headed toward the quad for lunch. “Shouldn’t he be here?”

“He should be,” Maria muttered in disgust. “Doesn’t he realize he’s not going to graduate if he keeps cutting like this?” she wailed. “I’m gonna be stuck with a high school drop out.”

“You never know. He might get expelled,” Max joked lightly, attempting nonchalance as he came up behind Liz and Maria.

“Gee, thanks. You sure know how to cheer a girl up,” Maria muttered. “I’m actually a little worried. He usually makes it in before lunch.”

Max nodded absently, his eyes on Liz. He’d seen her tense even before he’d said anything, but she remained silent. In fact, she didn’t even look at him. Ignoring the paranoid feeling that she was trying avoid him, Max fell into step next to her. And then relaxed when she immediately drifted closer.

Liz shivered, her entire being aware Max’s presence, even before the soft breath that whispered against her ear. She swallowed hard and focused on her best friend’s dramatics. “It’s not that bad,” she told Maria, patting her arm in consolation. Half a second later, she yanked her hand back, startled by the almost electric flare of energy she felt under her skin. Her connection to Max flared without warning, without even touching, and she froze, thrown completely off balance as her vision dwindled to an obsidian mist.

Max gasped, stumbling a little as their connection blazed to vibrant life and then snapped back to its dormant state with painful speed. “What the…”

Michael and Serena strode forward, tired and worn, though their shoulders squared stubbornly as Max moved to meet them at the edge of the football field. They didn’t look at each other, but somehow they managed to maintain the almost military lock-step that kept them marching side by side.

Liz opened her mouth, but no sound came out. It was as if she’d been thrown into some place where all of her senses were shackled by the rush of life and emotion flashing through her sight. She had no choice but to passively see what was playing out before her.

Serena sighed heavily and shoved her hair out of her face, seemingly unaware of the swollen, purpled bruise that marred her left cheek.

“You hit her?”

It was Kyle’s voice, Liz knew, but Serena’s dismissal and Michael’s tired denial were lost amidst the sudden, nauseating speed of the images blurring together, surrounding her with heat and feeling. The intense vertigo was almost too much. And then the vision screeched to a halt, as if some unknown watcher had just pressed Play. And exposed the odd, cosmic film so that a new vision could bleed through the original.

Their heavy boots rang against the cold, tiled floor of the hall, their steps uniform as they marched in grim lock-step through the unmoving image of their younger selves. Michael’s long, shaggy hair fell around his face, strangely reminiscent of Future Max, while Serena’s severe braid hung low down her back, keeping her hair off her face.

“Gimme fuel, gimme fire,”

Serena met Michael’s curt nod with one of her own, knocking her closed fist against his with surprisingly little force. It was nothing more than the tired brush of knuckle against knuckle, but still, Liz shivered. She’d seen this ritual before, too many time before. And she knew she’d see it again.

They were exhausted, every one of them, running on nothing but desperation and adrenaline. And the small thread of stubborn hope that was all that seemed to hold their sanity in place.


Liz could feel the odd echo of moments out of time even as she finally regained her equilibrium. She swallowed convulsively, blinking against the sudden return of the light, terrified as the vision faded back into reality. She wanted to scream. And couldn’t. Oh, God, she wanted to breathe.

“Liz? Liz! Earth to…”

“He’s with Serena,” Liz whispered. She trembled, completely overwhelmed by the vivid snapshot out of time. God, her head hurt suddenly. And she was cold. And hot.

Maria’s brows shot to her hairline. “Michael’s…what?”

“He’s with her,” Liz said, her voice small and far away in her own ears.

“He’s what?” Max asked, trying to focus on anything but the chill of their errant connection, and the mounting panic that seemed to come from nowhere. “Liz…” He reached for her, unable to stop himself from checking to see if she was ok.

She wasn’t, but she needed a moment to collect herself. She needed him to swallow the myriad of questions he was dying to ask and just be there. He nodded, ignoring his own ragged emotions. He could do that for her. He studied her wan features. For a moment, anyway.

Liz took a deep, careful breath, half-afraid that the simple intake of oxygen was going to send her reeling back through time. She could still feel the odd energy vibrating painfully against her palm like a thousand pinpricks against her skin but she ignored it, focusing instead on Max’s soothing warmth. His palm rested against the small of her back, anchoring her, finally, within the right moment.

Deep breaths, she told herself, swallowing the edge of her hysteria. Just take deep breaths. Greedily, she accepted Max’s silent support, grateful when the discomfort finally began to fade, leaving her right where she should be.

“Liz?” Max stared down at the top of her bent head, his fingers fanned against the small of her back, readily allowing her to pull anything she needed from his power. “Are you ok?”

“It’s nothing. Just…it was just an electric shock,” Liz whispered hoarsely, attempting a smile with the lie. Now wasn’t the time to tell him she was…losing her mind. Or, worse yet, she wasn’t. She didn’t understand this and she didn’t want to burden him with her fear, not when he had everything else in the world to worry about. But she could see that he wasn’t going to let this go.

“It wasn’t nothing,” Max argued. He could feel it as clearly as she did. “Liz…”

“Um, hi. People?” Maria interrupted. “Can we get back to the part where Michael’s with Serena?”

Liz shook her head. “I don’t…I don’t know that he is, I mean…”

Max’s eyes narrowed on her pale face, his own heart somersaulting guiltily. “Did you just have…”

“Yeah, but, Max…”

“Hello! What are you two talking about?” Maria burst out, her frustration evident. And then she glanced at the parking lot. “I don’t believe it.” Maria gaped, too stunned to say anything more as Serena and Michael headed toward the school with Ava trailing behind.

“I do,” Max said grimly. Just once he’d like to see Michael do what he said without… He shook his head, torn between continuing the conversation with Liz and dealing with the Terror Twins now heading in his direction. Not surprisingly, he could feel that Liz’s vote was for the latter.

“We need to talk to them,” Liz pointed out quietly. “Why don’t we meet them at the end of the Football Field,” she suggested as soon as she saw the look on Max’s face. “Away from everybody else.” We’re going to anyway, she thought, swallowing an hysterical giggle.

“Fine,” Max snapped, waving Michael in the right direction and catching Liz’s arm when she attempted to walk by him. “But our conversation isn’t over,” he told her firmly.

Liz nodded her acceptance and followed Max to the field, biting her lip painfully as her vision played out in the way Michael and Serena headed towards them. There was no mistaking that eerily familiar march. Distantly, she wondered if they even realized they were doing it. Distantly, she wondered about the other piece of her vision, the overlapping future…the war. She took a deep breath, almost wishing she’d imagined it and ignoring the strong impulse to burst into tears. At least they walked quickly. Max had no choice but to deal with them and worry about her later.

“What the hell happened to you two?” Kyle burst out, coming up behind the group where they’d gathered at the end of the field. “You look like you’ve been through the war,” he said mildly, staring at Michael and Serena.

Serena glanced at Michael. He did look a little the worse for wear. And then she looked down at herself. Not much better. She shook her head and grimaced. “Mina skirmish, I s’pose,” she allowed, shoving her hair back out of her face.

Kyle blinked. He leaned closer, ignoring Serena’s dark glare. “Nice shiner,” he said, letting out a low whistle, his uneasy gaze moving to Michael. “You hit her?”

“Kyle…” Michael ground out, rolling his eyes. “Of course I didn’t hit...”

“You really think he’d still be standin’ if he’da hit me?” Serena questioned with a frown.

Michael slanted an annoyed glance at the midget next to him. Truce was over. “Do you really think you could take me? You’re clearly suffering from a concussion,” he muttered.

“Whateva makes you feel betta.” Serena shrugged. “Course…wasn’ me that needed someone ta fix their head the last time…”

“Hey! Without me, you’d have more than just a shiner. Who was the one who took out that Skin who was trying to brain you?” Michael leaned forward, towering over her. Anyone else would have stepped back, but he was unsurprised when Serena did nothing more than raise her eyes to meet him glare for glare. “Come to think of it you never did say thank you,” he mocked, watching her temper spark behind her eyes. “I can’t quite hear you.”

Serena snorted. “I shoulda said thank you,” she allowed. “Shoulda said it ta the Skin. Cuz if he hadn’t stepped into that blast we’d prob’ly…”

“Did you just say ‘the Skin’?” Isabel demanded, joining the group. Against her better judgement. She just knew she should have hung back and eaten lunch with Cheryl and Allison. She shook her head, grateful for Alex’s silent presence at her side.

“Well,” Max pressed when nobody bothered to answer. He rolled his eyes at Serena’s silent shrug, but his jaw set as he encountered Michael’s closed expression.

“Maxwell…” Michael sighed heavily and gave a tired nod. He really wasn’t in the mood for a lecture, but he really didn’t see any way out of it. “Yeah,” he admitted. “It was the Skins.” He caught Maria’s panicky expression and stepped to her side, stroking her arm gently in an attempt to calm her before she freaked out completely. “It’ll be…”

“Great,” Max snapped, disgusted. “Like we don’t have enough trouble with…” he broke off, just barely checking the impulse to point at Serena. If the look on her face was any indication though, she’d caught his intent. Oh well. He ignored Serena’s affronted blue eyes and looked back at Michael. “You just couldn’t leave well enough alone, could you? You just had to…”

“Hey! It’s not my fault the Skins chose to attack. Apparently she pissed them off too,” Michael explained.

Serena glared at the two idiots in front of her. “She was doing just fine before she got mixed up wit you morons. I been at that motel for days now wit no problem. Til a course Ramjet the Rookie ova there showed up,” she said, waving a disgusted hand in Michael’s direction.

“It wasn’t me they were trying to get their hands on,” Michael retorted.

Serena shrugged, surprised when Ava edged closer to her side. “Prob’ly thought I’d be an easy mark cuz I’m short. People always do.”

“Because you are,” Michael retorted, exasperated.

You couldn’t take me.”

“That’s enough!” Max snapped, raising his voice to be heard over the din of the rising argument.

Liz bit her lip, stepping closer to Max when she saw the way his jaw clenched. She started to reach for him, hoping to offer the same warmth and calm he’d given her, but from the corner of her eye she noticed Tess join them. She froze for a long moment and then took a guilty step back, the distance between her and Max growing cold and uncomfortable in the space of an awkward heartbeat.

“What. Happened?” Max demanded through clenched teeth, finding a target for his frustration in Michael.

“That’s what I want to know,” Tess murmured, her eyes narrowing on Liz Parker’s hasty retreat. She looked at Max and then quickly took the vacated place at his side.

“So glad everyone’s on a same page,” Serena muttered sarcastically, dismissing Tess’s presence as easily as she did Ava’s. Two of ‘em on one planet… She glanced uneasily at Max as he stepped away from his Barbie doll. There really oughta be some kinda law, she observed bitterly.

“She must have attracted someone’s attention,” Michael told Max, returning Serena’s glare. “Our enemies didn’t randomly attacking motels before you showed up.”

Kyle nodded his agreement. “That’s true. They just put the entire town into an alternate universe every once in a while.”

Serena blinked. Turning her back on Michael, she stared at Kyle. He was serious. Sarcastic and annoying, but serious. “They did what?” she asked, intrigued in spite of herself.

Max stared. “It’s not important. Go back to…they attacked a motel?” The random comment his mother had made this morning about the motel off the highway shutting down due to an explosion suddenly taking on a whole new significance. They wouldn’t…he glared at Michael and Serena. Yeah. They would. “Let me get this straight…”

Kyle took great pleasure in ignoring Max’s interruption. “Yep. Whole town disappeared one day. Except of course for our…you know, our friends.”

“Really? How?” Serena demanded, her mind racing. The amount of energy it would take to…and then you add in the ability to control said energy and…

Max stared. She actually looked…impressed. He shook his head. He hadn’t been sure about her sanity before, but now he was convinced that she was nuts. “Can we get back to the part where you two thought it was a good idea to start blowing things up?” he exploded. “Again.”

Ava inhaled sharply, the anger coloring Max’s features reminded her so much of Zan that she stepped quickly behind Serena. “We hadda blow up the Skins that was chasin’ us,” she told Max, rushing through her explanation in the hope that everyone would just calm down. “They didn’t mean ta…”

“S’cuse me, there, Cotton Candy, but when ‘xactly did I ask you to speak for me?”

Ava opened her mouth and then closed it again, Serena’s cool perusal doing nothing to help her nerves. She glanced at Michael and decided to rethink her whole stance on trying to maintain the peace.

“Miss Wesley, 8:00,” Alex warned quietly, nodding back over his right shoulder. “She looks like she’s getting pretty interested in our little pow-wow.”

Great. Max took a deep breath. “You three get out of here before there’s even more for you to explain. We’ll continue this after school at Valenti’s.” he said, voice low as he pinned Michael with a dark look. “And don’t – let me repeat that – don’t blow anything else up in the meantime.”

Michael glared, chafing under the order even if he recognized its logic. “I’m not the one you have to worry about,” he huffed. “She’s been blowing stuff up since…”

“Funny, only time I blow anythin’ up is when you’re around,” Serena mused sarcastically.

“Just go,” Max ordered, after a hasty look over his shoulder told him where Mss Wesley was. “And stay out of trouble.”

Deciding they should get out of Dodge before he got yelled at for ditching along with everything else he was gonna get yelled at for, Michael turned around and pulled Serena after him. He let her yank her arm free and ignored her threat to blow his fingers off if he ever decided to grab her again. “Bitch about it later,” he snapped, already reaching for Ava. She avoided his grasp and headed back towards the parking lot, ignoring both of them

Max closed his eyes. What had he ever done, in this life, anyway, to deserve this? Them? He opened his eyes and took a breath. At least they were gone. He turned around, his eyes falling on Liz. Now maybe…

“Would someone care to explain to me what, exactly, is going on here?”

He turned to confront the Assistant Principal. He’d almost forgotten about that damn Universal Conspiracy. Almost.
The fact that we are fools is duly noted...
But must that be our epitaph?

-SRC


I'd be an idiot if I weren't less than pleased about being doomed.

- Warren Zevon
User avatar
Pathos
Enthusiastic Roswellian
Posts: 49
Joined: Tue May 28, 2002 1:13 pm
Location: Chicago, IL

Post by Pathos »

***********Part 21**************


Sighing heavily, The Seer continued her gentle provocation of the smoldering embers laid out before her. She was running out of time and, desperate to rouse a vision from the sleeping flames, she pushed harder, calling out to The Fates for answers, if not mercy. But her frustration only grew, bleeding over into this world’s h’auhrali and giving her almost nothing to work with. Almost nothing, until… Her head tilted curiously, sending her graying, auburn hair into the embers. Impatiently brushing the singed ends back over her shoulder, she held her breath as a picture took shape before her, blurry and indistinct, but oh so powerful in its intensity.

The birth.

So this was why The Fates ignored her entreaties, she mused, jealous of their preoccupation. But then the coals shifted within the flames, sharpening the image to mollify her with the vague answer to a question she’d only begun to ask. It drew her closer, pulling her from herself with the echoed repercussions of a future yet to pass. She should have known.

The Royal Seal.

She lost herself in the familiarity of the shape, fascinated by its shining regard despite the fact that she’d seen it countless times. Though never like this. Never before had it haloed three souls as it did those now represented amongst the flames. It defined them, drew them all inexorably closer, intimately closer until... Her brows knit together in consternation as she studied the image. It made no sense, wasn’t possible, in fact. A soul could only have one true mate, one’s energy could only find one true balance and yet…

Confused, she reached for more. Only to have even that small sliver of understanding pulled from her grasp. Helplessly, The Seer watched clarity fall away, easily obscured by the uncaring whim of The Fates.

Muttering to herself, she reached into the fire, gently unweaving the strands of Fate to better read the thick, living yarn. But instead of the simple chart she sought, she found yet another curtain, already woven underneath. She reared back in shock. Their path was not simply charted, it was already traveled, tread heavily through to the…end?

“What are you doing?”

Inhaling sharply as the real world intruded on her own, The Seer turned to Nicholas. “That is none of your concern,” she replied imperiously. He was not one who could command her, but his presence had already extinguished the fire, ruining her sight.

“Everything in this town is my concern. You really ought to remember that.” Nicholas waited, but she said nothing more. His jaw clenched. “Rath would like a reading,” he announced impatiently.

“The Pretender is not deserving of my services,” she sniffed disdainfully.

Nicholas sighed his irritation. He was already late for his meeting and didn’t have time for this. “Perhaps not. But you will do as I say or you will suffer my displeasure.”

The Seer smiled tiredly. “Zeijahra will be back soon,” she mentioned softly. Her time would come. But his would come sooner.

“I have nothing to fear in her return.”

“Hmmm,” The Seer murmured noncommittally, hearing the trepidation in Nicholas’s voice even if he chose to remain ignorant of the danger wrapping around him like a shroud. “Enjoy your evening,” she said lightly, turning back to the dead coals.

Nicholas blinked at the dismissal, and the threat he sensed just beyond her words. “Just see to Rath,” he ordered. “I’ll worry about my evening.”

Nodding, The Seer wisely held her tongue until he was gone. “Not as much as you should.”


****************************************


“Well, that went…well.” Max cringed under the weight of Liz’s disbelieving stare. Sighing, he admitted that perhaps ‘well’ was something of an overstatement. “As well as can be expected,” he amended. “Considering…”

Considering Serena. Liz sighed. He didn’t have to say it, and after this afternoon, she didn’t have the energy to argue his point. Closing her eyes, she pressed her fingertips against her throbbing temple. Serena Fallon may have been difficult, but…may have been? Who was she kidding? Maria was right. Serena was a royal pain in the ass, but…she was necessary. Liz knew it, felt it in a way she barely recognized, and couldn’t yet explain.

Unfortunately, knowing it wasn’t going to help her convince Max to go along with it.

Eyes on the road, Max tried to match Liz silence for silence, his frustration growing the longer it stretched out between them. He shifted abruptly into third, the gears grinding in protest as he turned sharply off the main road. And still she said nothing. As if she were trying to avoid him even though they were in the same damn car.

Not that he was doing anything but letting her, he admitted silently. He’d been waiting four hours to have this conversation, but now that it was here…what was he supposed to say? At least now we have a plan?
Casting an irritated glance in Liz’s direction, he realized that he was playing right into her hands. Because he was quite sure that this was the conversation she’d been putting off for the last four hours.

Four hours. Max let out a low snort. So much for the ‘quick meeting before work’ he’d originally called. Looking back though, he decided he wasn’t at all surprised that Serena could turn a meeting about their cover story into a marathon debate about anything and everything.

Some genius. Was it really so hard to see that blending into the community was probably a good idea? Ava hadn’t had any problem with it. She’d actually seemed kind of excited by the idea of going to school. And unlike Michael and Serena, she’d been perfectly willing to go along with Valenti’s suggestion of speaking to the police before they were called in. A preemptive strike, Valenti had called it. Max shook his head. He wasn’t about to repeat what Serena had called it.

Exhaling an irritated sigh, Max wondered for the thousandth time that day what the hell he’d done to deserve both of them at the same time.

“I don’t believe this,” Michael muttered in disgust. “The Skins are on the attack and all you’re worried about is what everyone in town is going to think of those two.” He flung an angry hand in Ava and Serena’s direction. “Who cares?”

“The police?” Kyle suggested sarcastically.

“They’ve got a cover story. Ava’s here to meet her long lost sister, remember? And she,” Michael continued, pointing at Serena “came along as moral support.”

“Just the kinda girl I am,” Serena muttered dryly.

“Michael, will you just…”

“I’m not going to calm down, Maria.” Michael snapped. “What happens when The Skins show up here and we’re more worried about setting those two up in school than in defending ourselves? Maxwell, this isn’t the time for your wait and see what happens plan.”


Clutching the steering wheel tightly enough to whiten his knuckles, Max made the soft turn onto the old highway, his temper suddenly burning. Again. Taking several deep breaths, he purposefully loosened his grip, quickly calming the power shifting restlessly under his skin. It had been driving him crazy all afternoon, the growing impulse to shout at someone. Anyone. Everyone.

Serena was lucky he’d held his temper this long. Shaking his head, Max wondered if she argued everything on principle. Of course, that assumed she actually lived by some principle, twisted or otherwise. And just when he thought he had her figured out, she surprised the hell out of him. He sighed. Just thinking about her curious agreement with him made him uneasy. Maybe she just liked arguing with Michael more than she liked arguing with him.

“What x’actly you think our options are?” Serena asked, idly tapping her unlit cigarette against the cellophane wrapped pack in her other hand.

“What?” Michael asked, turning on Serena in disbelief. If the look on his face was any indication, he’d expected her to agree with him.

Serena shrugged. “So we aint gonna sit an wait…can I assume you got a cache a weapons somewhere? Or an alien army hidden up your ass?” She threw a quick look at Max, easily shrugging off Michael’s angry glare. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m all for a well planned attack, but if they got a whole town and we got, what? Ten, twelve people on our side…” She shook her head. “I don’t like walkin’ into a situation blind an’ out number’d, not if I got a choice.”


Max shook his head. At least she appeared to have a modicum of common sense about some things. That should keep the destruction down to a minimum. Maybe. Hopefully.

So why did he feel like their truce was going to be the biggest headache of his life? Well, aside from the upcoming alien invasion. He shook his head, images of a high gloss Trojan horse with vivid blue eyes and a mean streak a mile wide running through his mind. And then there was Michael. Max couldn’t quite understand how he continued to ignore the fact that they shouldn’t start a fight they couldn’t finish. It was common sense, for God’s sake.

Sighing heavily, Max dragged a tired hand down his face. Why was it that he suddenly felt like it didn’t matter? The fight was coming to them anyway.

Michael was right. Which only proved what he’d been suspecting for the last few months. Everything he did was simply another exercise in futility. His temper faded abruptly into a distant solitude. What was he going to do now?

Shaking off his resentment, Max snuck a quick glance at Liz. She was still too quiet and more than anything else, her distance was getting to him.

Now or never. “At least now we have a plan.” He groaned internally. Way to open, Evans.

Liz offered a noncommittal ‘hmmmm’ in response to the observation and Max sighed. He should have done what he wanted to from the beginning. He should have skipped the meeting and sat down with her to discuss what happened at school before she decided she didn’t want to talk about it. His lips thinned bitterly. Or at least before she decided she didn’t want to talk about it with him.

Liz took a deep breath, her eyes fixed, unseeing on the scenery passing by. She couldn’t look at him, if she did…she shook her head. Just a few more minutes and she’d be at the Crashdown, then she could relax and maybe figure out what the hell was going on with her. Or at least forget the last few hours and the fact that she was becoming…extraneous.

She bit her lip, hating the shiver of piqued energy that slid through her system as she wondered what it would be like to be alone.

Liz glanced around the Valenti living room feeling curiously out place as Jim pulled Max aside for a brief one on one. She was unsurprised when Tess chose to follow at his heels instead of heading into her bedroom with everyone else to watch Serena hack into the New York Public School System. If she was to be believed, creating student profiles for herself and Ava would only take a half hour. Glancing at the blonde alien, she felt a pang of understanding sympathy. Perched on the edge of the couch, Ava looked about as uncomfortable as she felt.

“How are you doing?” she asked, offering a smile as she sat down next to her. It was so strange, seeing the open vulnerability in Ava’s eyes, so different from Tess’s cold perusal.

“I’m good, just…tired, I guess.”

“I don’t blame you,” Liz commiserated softly. She’d seen the frustration on Ava’s face when she walked in behind Michael and Serena. She guessed that one night with the two of them would be enough to put anyone on edge. “How’d you end up with Serena anyway?” she asked curiously.

Ava shrugged. “She came ta the crib lookin’ for Rath. Found me instead an’…I guess the rest is history.”

“You went back to New York?” Liz asked, her brows raised slightly in surprise. “I thought…”

Ava glanced away. “Yeah, I tried makin’ a new start but…” she took a deep breath and forced herself to look back at Liz. “I don’t know really, the crib was…it was the last place I felt…safe. The last place he was,” she admitted quietly, clearly hoping Serena didn’t choose that moment to rejoin them. “I knew Lonnie an’ Rath weren’t comin’ back. I thought…I thought I’d be left alone there.”

Liz felt tears of understanding fill her eyes. She cleared her throat, feeling strangely emotional as she imagined Ava sitting there, alone, with nothing to keep her company but her guilt. “Ava…” she began.

“I understand completely,” Tess murmured softly, joining the conversation and taking a seat on the other side of her dupe. She slanted a quick glance at Max and touched Ava’s arm compassionately before turning her cerulean eyes on Liz. “You wanted to be close to him.”

Sucking in a pained breath, Liz stood up, torn between the urge to flee and the surreal sense of being stuck to the floor. She should have followed everyone into the other room to watch Serena, she decided, because she had no place out here.

She turned away when Max looked over at her, his suddenly suspicious gaze moving from her face to the smile Tess sent in his direction. He returned it briefly, dutifully before he looked back at her, ignoring whatever it was Valenti was whispering to him. Liz took a deep breath, dread eating away at her stomach lining as she saw Tess’s jaw clench and heard Future Max’s warning whispering through her brain.

Tess left because of the way I treated her after…

And then, as Michael and Serena bickered their way back into the living room, she heard the chilling echo of her own voice.

Max, we need her…


Liz blinked, the dimming sunlight bright and painful as she tried to focus on now. She wanted them to stop, she thought frantically. The visions, the memories, whatever they where, she wanted them to stop. She could sense Max’s growing impatience with his duty toward Tess and it frightened her, even as her heart thrilled with his attention. She shook her head, inhaling a pained breath before taking her waffling priorities firmly back in hand.

“I don’t think Tess was too happy when you offered to give me a ride home,” she said softly, cringing at the way the silence was broken.

Startled, Max looked at Liz, his eyes narrowing on her distant expression. She was about as far away from him as she could get without actually falling from the jeep. He bit his tongue before he could suggest that it didn’t matter how far away she got, he knew she was well aware that he didn’t give a blessed damn how Tess was taking this. “You needed ride home and I had to go back to the UFO Center for at least a half hour of my shift. Plus, Maria wasn’t working tonight so dropping you off would have been well out of her way,” he said tersely.

Liz shook her head, ignoring the fact that he’d covered all the bases. “Still, Maria probably would have been a better choice,” she argued stubbornly, even as her traitorous heart told her to keep her mouth shut. And honestly, she was sick of arguing in favor of…saving the world? Her conscience wondered dryly.

“Probably,” Max allowed through gritted teeth. “But as Serena pointed out, ‘aint nobody leaving this meeting thrilled’, so I guess we’re batting a thousand.”

Liz cringed a little as he butchered Serena’s accent, the acid in his tone turning her attention from the confused jumble of her emotions. “She’s part of the team, Max.”

“Since when? I’m pretty sure Serena wouldn’t agree with that.”

Deciding silence was the better part of valor, Liz returned her attention to the road and…what? Sitting straight up, she turned to stare at Max. “We’re going the wrong way,” she realized aloud.

“We’re taking the scenic route,” Max corrected. “So that we can have the conversation you’re trying to avoid. What did you see?” he questioned, shaking his head when Liz’s silence was his only answer. He could almost feel her mind racing for the answer that would placate him. His fingers tightened around the steering wheel.

“Don’t. Don’t shut me out. I know what I felt, I know you saw…something and…” Max shrugged helplessly as she turned to stare at the desert. He hated feeling her retreat, but that’s what it was.

“Don’t do that,” he pleaded softly, turning his desolate gaze to the road.

Unable to ignore the loneliness he couldn’t hide, Liz looked at Max. “I’m not trying to make you feel left out, Max, I just…I don’t want to burden you with this.”

Max turned to stare at her. Burden him? Burden him? “You’re not burdening me,” he denied swiftly, jerking over to the side of the road and ignoring the contemptuous sputtering of the jeep as it stalled out. “God, Liz, I felt how much it hurt you, and you…you’re so worried Serena that you won’t think about yourself and what this is doing to you. ”

“You think I don’t know what this is doing to me?” Liz snapped, shivering against the now familiar feel of static burning under her skin. She took a calming breath, fighting to hold her temper though she couldn’t quite understand why it exploded in the first place. The phantom feel of him reaching for her made it even more difficult. They couldn’t keep doing that. Because she couldn’t keep letting go.

“So let me help you,” Max insisted, torn between the urge to drop the subject entirely and pull her into his arms, and the equally strong desire to shake her for being so damn stubborn. And noble. “Tell me what you saw. Tell me…”

“I saw what I always see!” Liz cried. She closed her eyes briefly, taking a moment to bring her surging emotions under control. She felt hyper sensitive all of a sudden, and hyper aware of everything, including the way her life seemed to be spinning out of control.

“You saw Serena,” Max prodded gently, unaware of reaching for her hand until he felt the somber spark of their connection against his palm. He squeezed her fingers gently, his frustration fading when she clung to his hand as if he were all that stood between her and desperation. “You saw the future again,” he stated quietly.

Liz nodded, cursing her weakness even as she refused to give up the warm strength of his spirit. “I saw Michael and Serena showing up at the school before they got there. I saw us meeting them, I saw her bruise, I heard…” Liz swallowed her tears and steadied her voice, desperate to slow the remembered images now speeding through her brain. “And then I saw them again, only they were older. And they were fighting.”

“Each other?” Max asked, surprised. “But you just said…I don’t understand,” he admitted

“They were leaving to fight together,” Liz explained. “And I felt like…I knew they’d done it before. Lots of times before. It felt like I’d seen it before.” She turned to look out the window, almost surprised by the peace of the desert around her. She relaxed slowly under the quiet pressure of Max’s touch. She’d been so afraid of his reaction, but now that she’d told him, she felt even the frenetic energy sparking through her veins smoothing back into stillness. “I know it doesn’t make any sense, but Max I know we need her. I, I feel it,” she said, finally meeting his eyes.

Max fell into her serious gaze, easing her anxiety the only way he knew how. “She’s part of the team,” he said slowly. “But so are you, Liz, and right now, you’re who I’m worried about.”

Liz shook her head impatiently. “I’m fine, now. I know you can feel that,” she pressed gently, her anxiety falling away the longer they remained together. She ignored her sputtering conscience. Friends supported each other, her heart insisted. “We need to start working with her or…”

Max exhaled a long breath. Or we run smack into the end of the world, he finished silently.

“Yeah.” Liz sighed, hating the growing dejection she could sense across their connection. She tightened her hold on him, wishing she could offer more than her understanding. “I know, I know it doesn’t make any sense, but…”

Max nodded, still clinging to her hand, the gentle thrum of their connection feeding his growing resolve. Blinking against the setting sun, he wondered briefly how it was possible to feel so close to her when they remained on opposite sides of the jeep. He wished he could pull her into his arms, to hold her as they soothed each other’s frayed nerves, but he knew that would just upset her again. It was enough, this gentle communion.

It would have to be.

“Ok,” Max whispered finally, hating that he had no other answer to her visions but to try going along with them. “We’ll work on being a…team.”

“Don’t sound so thrilled,” Liz replied dryly. “And speaking of good for the team…”

Max looked away, feeling the heat that ran along the tips of his ears. He knew exactly what she was questioning. “It will be good for the team,” he insisted, even as Liz shook her head in disbelief.

“I can’t believe you said that with a straight face.”

Serena snorted, looking from Tess, to Ava and then back to Jim Valenti. “I’ll find my own place ta stay,” she announced.

“We’ve been over this. The cover story…”

Shrugging, Serena brought the cigarette to her lips and lit it defiantly. “Ave’s can stay where she wants for this cova story. I, howeva, aint gonna be stayin’ here.”

“For God’s sake, what is the problem now?” Max bit out.

Serena turned on him quickly. “Was bad enuff dealin’ wit his Stepford Wife. I’ll be damned if I end up wit yours too.”

Max stared, surprised not by the venom, but by the exhaustion he could hear in her voice. He heard Tess’s gasp, but the only thought running through his mind was the surprising realization that he didn’t really blame Serena.

Liz stepped forward. “Serena, if you don’t want to stay here maybe…”

Max cleared his throat quickly, interrupting Liz before she could finish her sentence. He could just imagine what she was going to offer as an option. And she could forget it. There was no way he was letting Rath’s target bunk with his…friend.

“You can stay with Michael,” Max decided quickly.

“Michael?!” Michael and Serena repeated incredulously, glaring at each other before they turned to stare at Max, aghast.

Maria shook her head emphatically. “Max, think about this. Michael?”

“It’ll be a cold day in hell.” Serena announced.


“You enjoyed that,” Liz accused without rancor. “What happens when they kill each other?” she wondered aloud, her concern falling away as Max shifted closer. She could feel the electric slide of his thumb against her palm, but more than that, the solid weight of his presence throughout her soul.

“I’m sure they’ll be fine.” Maybe. Max shrugged easily, refusing to leave the moment. Michael could just take this one for the team.
Last edited by Pathos on Wed Apr 28, 2004 12:06 pm, edited 1 time in total.
The fact that we are fools is duly noted...
But must that be our epitaph?

-SRC


I'd be an idiot if I weren't less than pleased about being doomed.

- Warren Zevon
User avatar
Pathos
Enthusiastic Roswellian
Posts: 49
Joined: Tue May 28, 2002 1:13 pm
Location: Chicago, IL

Post by Pathos »

*******Part 21 Continued**************


Exhaling slowly, Serena watched the smoke get lost amidst the breeze slowly wafting in under the sheet Michael used as a curtain. She shook her head, still vaguely surprised to find herself stretched out on his lumpy excuse for a couch. It was the exhaustion, she decided finally. That was why she’d given in so easily when they came up with this idiotic plan.

What the fuck had her life become?

“I aint deaf,” she told Max coldly, her eyes skating across his features to land on Michael’s disgruntled expression. “Sayin’ the same thing louder aint gonna convince me ta go along wit it.”

“Serena, we have been over this,” Max began through gritted teeth, clearly losing patience with her.

“Go ova it again. What’s in it for me?”

“One, you might make it to tomorrow. If you’re lucky,” Michael interjected sarcastically. “And two, you get to be around when Rath finally decides to show his face.”


Right. Serena took a deep breath. That’s what her life had become. What was left of it anyway.

Sighting, she rolled to her side and closed her fingers around the spent cigarette, disintegrating the thing against her palm before letting the ashes fall to the floor. Screw Michael and his no smoking edict, she decided, barely able to scrape together enough ire to give the thought the proper punch.

Swallowing a yawn, Serena settled against the back of the couch, falling into the dip of the cushion as the breeze touched against her face. It was enough to combat her lingering claustrophobia, though not even the crispness of the air was going to keep her eyes open. She could feel herself drifting already, moving swiftly towards the waiting dream. After so many days without sleep, she had no choice but to make the journey. The same journey to the same moment, every night. Idly, she wondered if this was all she was allowed to remember now. She closed her eyes on her tears. How could this be all that was left?

“You should have stayed away, little girl,” the Protector whispered against her ear, brushing her hair back with gentle animosity. “I did try to tell you, both of you, actually.” He shook his head, slinging an arm around her shoulders and readjusting her prone form so that their embrace would appear natural to anyone passing the park bench they were seated on.

Serena felt her entire being shudder at the coldness of his eyes. She wanted to look away, but found that she couldn’t. Adrenaline rushed her system, fueled by Zan’s panic and the disquieting realization that she had no control over her body. Trembling, she watched as the shapeshifter’s eyes slid fluidly into their natural form, large and dark, fathomless. And utterly terrifying against the backdrop of his still human face. Terrified, she sat trapped in his gaze, her limbs heavy and unresponsive within the grip of his power.

She’d always found him just a little off, ridiculous in the same smarmy way that most balding, middle aged men hitting a mid-life crisis were ridiculous, but now… God, but they’d played this one all wrong. A whole year planning, waiting…it should have worked. They’d done everything right, followed all the rules…ignored the piercing ache of their connection slowly fading to the mere shadow of what it should be.

The plan should have worked, damn it! Why didn’t it work?

“Did you really think you could out plan me, little girl?” Shaking his head, the shapeshifter curled his fingers around her neck. “I’ve waited decades and, to borrow a quaint, human phrase, I’ll be damned if I allow some pre-pubescent piece of ass to ruin my plans. It’s time for Zan to give up this childishness.”

She glared, angry mutiny swimming in her eyes, erasing the evidence of her fear. The last thing she expected him to do was laugh. But he did. Long and unpleasantly, until the sound grated against her soul.

“We’ve been waiting for you, Your Highness,” he said suddenly, an odd sincerity coloring his voice as he raised his eyes to look over Serena’s head at Zan. “You didn’t really think I’d let you walk away from your responsibility, did you?”

Serena felt her eyes filling with tears and her lungs burned with the harsh breaths Zan was taking. He’d run all the way to her, but he was still too far away to do anything but watch should the Protector choose to kill her.

Zan raised his hand. “Get away from her,” he ordered.

“Now, now. Play nice,” the Protector replied, his fingers tightening around Serena’s throat. “We can be friends, your Highness. Or we can be enemies. The choice is, of course, entirely yours.”

She shivered convulsively as the shapeshifter’s power loosened enough for her to turn her head, to meet Zan’s eyes and feel the hopelessness already eroding their connection. His defeat tasted bitter in her mouth and hot tears slipped, unheeded from her eyes.

Zan lowered his hand quickly. “I’m here. It’s what ya want, just…”

“This is not a negotiation,” the Protector interrupted softly. “All year I have put up with your attempts to placate me, I have waited patiently for you to accept your responsibility. But I am through with patience, so now I will make you a deal. You accept your destiny, willingly, and she will live.” He waited for Zan’s stiff nod and then continued. “Or I will destroy your little distraction.” His fingers trailed slowly from her throat to the place just above her heart and Serena felt the small burst of power that invoked a painful skip in her heartbeat. So did Zan. “I’ll do it. And then I’ll
force you to fulfill your destiny. It’s your choice.”

Zan nodded slowly and Serena watched his fingers clench into tight fists, the anger rolling across their connection a testament to the year he’d only just survived. But more than that, his own helplessness goaded his temper. “Just let her go. Now!” He shook his head, visibly restraining himself when the shapeshifter didn’t move to obey him.

From far away Serena heard his mournful acquiescence and her tears fell faster. This couldn’t be happening…

“Please,” Zan requested softly. “Let her go and I’ll do it. I’ll do anythin’.”

But it was.

Closing her eyes, Serena felt her body come back under her control, though she ached everywhere from an exertion she didn’t understand. She’d worry about it later. Pushing out of the shapeshifter’s embrace she stumbled toward Zan, desperate for the feel of his arms around her.

He said nothing, simply used their connection to ease her pain, refusing to acknowledge his own. His touch was light, worshiping…too distant the way he held her. And then he stepped back, his eyes on something far away.

“Zan?” She followed quickly, catching his arm and reeling through his sorrow. Forgetting their audience, she reached across their connection. Only to be rebuffed. She shook her head in numb denial. “No…”

“Serena, we gotta…”

“No!” Serena hissed. “I can’t just leave you wit…”She nodded pointedly over Zan’s shoulder to where Lonnie and Rath waited in the shadows.

“I’ll be fine,” Zan assured her wearily.

“You won’t,” Serena corrected desperately, frightened by his stillness. “You need me to watch your back.” She glared over his shoulder, hating Lonnie and Rath more in that moment than she ever had in the past.

“I can handle ‘em.”

“Reading Lord of the Flies once don’t make you an expert in leadin’ a group of lunatics!” Serena told him, her voice hushed and angry. “Zan, c’mon… You can’t hold ‘em off foreva,” she insisted, momentarily lost within his soul deep exhaustion and the roiling anger he was using to cloak his desolation. “Listen ta me…”

“Stop it! I aint got a choice, Serena,” Zan bit out angrily.

“You do,” she flung back recklessly. “You do have a choice.” She already knew that he wasn’t listening, but she couldn’t stop the words spilling from her heart. “Zan, please, don’t do this, we’ll just…”

“Just what?” the shapeshifter inquired politely, dark eyes alight with a cruel amusement as he reminded them of his presence.

Zan held up a hand. “She’s off limits,” he ordered flatly.

The Protector considered his King briefly. “If you hold up your end of the bargain,” he agreed finally. “She is off limits.”

Nodding, Zan avoided Serena’s eyes, his own flashing back to Lonnie and Rath as he let out a deep sigh. “Give me a minute,” he ordered, his jaw clenching at the mockery of a bow they offered before stepping back to give him the illusion of privacy.

Serena watched them go, her hand fisted in the front of Zan’s t-shirt. “We’ll find a way,” she averred fiercely, fighting to hold on when Zan began to gently unfold her fingers from the fabric.

“There is no way,” Zan said quietly. “I aint gonna let anythin’ happen ta you.”

“But, Zan, listen…”

“No! Don’t you get it? Nex’ time…” Zan shook his head stubbornly. “Aint gonna be a nex’ time,” he said, voice rough with finality. He took a deep breath, his eyes meeting hers to prove his point. “We don’t…”


Belong together. She knew it was what he wanted to say, what he was supposed to say. And she knew as well as he did that it wasn’t true. “Liar,” she whispered, betrayed.

“God, Serena, you’re fuckin’ oblivious. He’s too strong!” Zan growled, his frustration building to a cold, throbbing fury and bleeding through to her. “I can’t beat ‘im. You can’t. We tried an’…” He shook his head helplessly. “I aint lettin’ you die.” He traced his knuckles briefly along the curve of her cheek until his fingers brushed against her hair. Exhaling slowly, he let a single curl twine around his finger.

“I aint lettin’ you go,” Serena whispered. For a brief moment, she thought she’d won, but then he shook his head, ignoring the anguish she knew he felt building across their connection as he gently smoothed her hair back into place.

“I won’t let you die because a me, Serena. I won’t.”

She shook her head, terrified of his resolve. He was done fighting with her, and in his mind, he knew what he had to do.

“I’m sorry.”

Serena gasped, shocked by the sudden, suffocating pressure of his blocking their connection. It forced her to her knees and the world around her faded to the surreal as she watched him fight an unsteadiness she couldn’t feel. The disconnect was overwhelming. The coldness, the emptiness.

And he wouldn’t even look back at her as he walked away.

“Please,” she cried softly, her voice, rough and painful in her own throat. She’d forgotten what it felt like, alone, and her emotions heaved painfully in an attempt to rebalance. “Don’t do this…you said we were foreva.” She stood up slowly. “You said we were foreva,” she screamed at his retreating back. “Zan!” Her shout echoed and faded.

And he kept walking, leaving only dead air where the warmth of their connection had been.

Undercut by the sharp echo of loss, Serena felt her spirit bow under the strain. It was so much worse, reliving the moment. She remembered the controlled shut-down of that day, but it was so much worse now that she’d lived through...she whimpered softly, awash in the pain of her soul’s amputation. She may have survived the first time, but now…she could feel herself fading the farther he slipped from her reach.

God, she was so tired. Struggling against the harsh grip of the dream, she struggled toward consciousness, desperate to leave her memory behind, to forget for a moment that Zan was really gone.

And then…he wasn’t.

Serena froze, her entire being stilled by the warm rush of comfort that seemed to come out of nowhere. It was so real. As if…as if he were reaching for her, just as he always had, reaching through the darkness to make it right.

It wasn’t a memory. It wasn’t. No matter what her common sense said. Stubbornly ignoring the world now calling for her, she allowed herself to plummet farther into the dream, her heart beating faster. It wasn’t a memory, she insisted. She
could feel him, feel his presence growing stronger the deeper she went. She didn’t care about the darkness surrounding her. All she cared about, all she allowed herself to know was that he was reaching for her. He was as desperate to find her as she was to hold him and so she answered, reached out for him and stubbornly ignored her trepidation as she moved into the shadows.

Only to find herself completely lost. Fear coiled around her like a physical thing, pulling her deeper, holding her still and silent with a whispered temptation. But something was wrong. She couldn’t ignore it, but trembling, she forced herself not to fight it. She needed to reach him. But his presence only grew weaker, more agitated, as if he were afraid for her. And himself.

And then he was gone and it was dark. Too dark, too hot. She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t…


Thrown into wakefulness, Serena struggled for air, her chest heaving with effort. Her eyes burned with unshed tears, but she blinked them back. Tears hadn’t done one goddamn bit a good for her then, they sure as hell wouldn’t help now. Besides, it was just a dream. Just a dream. Only it wasn’t.

Soul pulled taut with the effort, Serena tightened her grip on the last strands of their connection, whimpering softly as it continued to slip slowly through her fingers leaving their long goodbye unabated. It hurt, how deeply she had to reach for that last echo of his presence, ached through every fiber of her being.

Swallowing a sob, she stood and padded quickly to the front door. She needed air. And space. And a fucking cigarette. Definitely a fucking cigarette, she thought, yanking the crumpled pack from her back pocket and reshaping the mess of tabacco and paper. At least Michael slept more deeply than Ava. She wasn’t in the mood to argue with him, which said something about her exhaustion. Hardly aware of the cold cement against her bare feet, she stepped outside.

Lighting the cigarette absently, Serena glared up at the stars. It was amazing, really, how open the sky looked without buildings fucking up the view. She wondered briefly what they would have looked like in Memphis, and then pushed the thought aside. She was never going to find out. Taking a deep breath, she sank down onto the front stoop, relieved when the nicotine finally began to work against the tension knotting her stomach. Closing her eyes, she pulled her knees to her chest, feeling goose bumps rise along her arms as the night air danced across her skin. Briefly, she considered going back inside, but her stomach heaved painfully at the thought. Shaking her head at her own familiar weakness, Serena waved a hand at the door and closed it behind her. The sun would be up soon enough anyway.


************************


“Don’t’ worry about anything,” Valenti said kindly. “You’re safe here.”

Ava nodded, smiling a little though she remained on her guard. Once a cop, always a cop, Serena had that one right. But there was a kindness in his eyes that none of New York’s finest had never had. At least not when they were looking at her.

Tess nodded her agreement. “That’s right. No one’s going to make you do anything you don’t want to.”

They were talking about Serena, Ava knew. Exhaling slowly, she offered another nod, hard pressed to defend the other girl or even explain why she felt the urge. It’s not like they were friends. She doubted Serena was even giving her a second thought, but still…Serena was also the only one who’d ever bothered trying to pull her outta the gutter. Not that she’d been gentle or anything… Ava sighed. What was the use? Rath continued to put her right back there, no matter how far from New York they got. She probably should have stayed. At least she understood it. Or thought she had. Once.

“Thank you,” Ava said finally, deciding that was what they wanted to hear.

Valenti nodded, offering the girls a crooked smile. “Good night,” he told them gruffly, turning off the light and closing the door.

Tess waited a few minutes and then snapped the light back on. “Ok,” she began, her eyes narrowing on her dupe. “It’s time we got a few things cleared up.”


************************


Rath hesitated in the doorway, searching through a haze of burning incense to find the hunched figure at the center of the inner sanctum. “Nicholas said you was a Seer,” he said uncertainly. He shook his head, struggling to ignore the persistent thought that he didn’t belong there. “Well?” he snapped.

“I am,” The Seer acknowledged, lifting her eyes from the embers she was still nursing. She studied Rath calmly, noting the way he shifted from one foot the other. Impudent boy. His impatience was an insult to her station.

Rath waited, but the old woman said no more. It shouldn’t have been so disconcerting, the concentrated regard of a half blind old woman. But it was. “Well? Whatta ya see?” he challenged, chin raised in defiance.

Nothing of import. The Seer sighed. Such observations were rarely well met by people who believed in their own manifest power. “Come. Sit before me,” she bid irritably, throwing more chleehre onto the coals before her. Since it seemed The Fates were not in the mood to cooperate, she may as well do as Nicholas requested.

Swearing, Rath jumped back, falling heavily against the wall as he shaded his eyes from the green flames spreading out to engulf the Seer. What the fuck?

Old bitch was mad-crazy, he decided, a curious shiver sliding along his spine as he pressed himself against the wall, held fast by the sharpness of her wide, iridescent eyes. His uncertainty returned, bringing with it an unfamiliar knot of fear. He’d prided himself on his alien heritage but the being before him was suddenly otherworldly. Long dormant instincts warned him to flee. Now.

“Step forward!” The Seer demanded, her voice shrilly as she struggled to control the raging flow of power. It almost surprised her, the maddening rush of images. It had been so long, but…ask and ye shall receive, wasn’t that the human phrase? “Step forward,” she ordered again, using the Pretender as her grounding source.

Rath took a deep breath, taken aback by the sudden weight of the moment. It was the right of a King to harness the power of a Seer, his right to have his fortune read. He’d been waiting his whole life for this and he’d be damned if he let a case of nerves fuck it up.

He moved to the center of the room and sat down on the pillow across from the old woman. As he stepped forward the flames receded, their dull green glow lighting the angles of her face into a ghoulish mask. He swallowed hard, still ignoring the impulse to run. “So whatcha gotta do ta see my fortune? Read my palm?” He brazened, then yelped, yanking his hand back when the Seer struck him with surprising force. “Look, bitch…”

“I cannot seek your fortune, I can only read your future,” The Seer informed him dismissively. His anger was nothing to her, she knew. Her fate had been decided long ago. “The Fates forge their intent in the heat of the flame,” she instructed, gesturing vaguely at the pictures taking shape amidst the green heat before her.

Gritting his teeth, Rath restrained the urge to bury the Seer in her own fire. “So get ta steppin’!” He growled.

The Seer blinked slowly, confusion evident in her expression. “You wish me to…”

“Just read the fuckin’ flame!” Rath ordered. “Tell me my future.”

I was. Taking a calming breath, the Seer reached into the flames, ignoring Rath’s surprise over the move. The Fates meant her no harm. Not yet. She moved the coals slowly, sharpening the image to an unchanging picture. Just as she suspected. “Your fate is colored by War, a battle you don’t expect, bloodshed…”

“But I win, right?” Rath asked, leaning forward, his heart pounding in anticipation.

“She’s furious,” The Seer told him, continuing with her recitation as if he hadn’t interrupted. Not that it made any difference. Her words would mean nothing to him. Until it was too late.

She? Rath blinked. What about the battle? The war? He shook his head in frustration. “Speak English damn it!”

The Seer glared. This was not the person who could command her. Speak English! As if language could possibly encompass everything she knew. Reaching out, she grabbed his hand.

Rath reared back, held immobile by the force of a power that was at once frail and stronger than anything he’d ever imagined. Her eyes flashed, their iridescent depths reflecting everything she was seeing, everything that was being transmitted through the harsh, harrowing grip on his fingers. He held his breath, the picture that rose before his eyes a familiar enemy wearing Zan’s own sneer.

Serena’s hard blue eyes were, indeed, furious and he would almost swear that he could hear her soul’s hoarse scream as it claimed its retribution. Her fury cut him like a knife, painful and overpowering. Terrifying, the feeling of finding himself helpless before it, as terrifying as… Trembling, he pulled free of the Seer’s hand, sitting back in the wake of the fear still echoing through him, a fear that didn’t belong to him, that he wouldn’t let belong to him.

The Seer shook her head. Fool. He did not have the luxury of a choice, not any longer. “You’ve rent her soul. She will do the same to you before she is no more,” she advised simply, unsurprised when he dismissed her announcement.

“Serena aint nothin’ ta me,” Rath spat. “She wants ta bring it, I’ll he happy ta take it.”

“She calls upon an absent King,” The Seer warned, her blind eyes sharpening on the dead man before her.

Rath froze. Zan hadn’t said it since they were fourteen, but the words echoed through the room as if they’d just been spoken.

Serena’s off limits. S’Time you realized, I’m da man. An I decide if you live or die.

“Zan’s dead.” He could say it as often as he liked, but it still didn’t feel entirely true.

I decide if you live or die

Rath shook his head. Those words had been echoing through his nightmares for years now, along with a memory he couldn’t seem to shake. No matter what he did.

I am in a living hell, makes me wonder if I’m alive
Can’t seem to bring myself to figure out why
I shove and I pull away from the things that I call you every day


Glaring through Zan’s back, Rath followed Sully’s full voice, made tinny by the small ear piece Zan let fall haphazardly over his shoulder. Fuckin’ Godsmack. They’d been subjected to that album since the thing had come out. Kicking at the garbage littering the side of the track, he picked his way through the last active subway tunnel in the labyrinth that led back to the crib. King my ass, he thought, snorting his disgust. Dickhead was pussy whipped.

“I coulda told ‘em it was a shit plan,” he said to Lonnie, making sure his voice carried to Zan’s ears. “Yo, Duke, didn’ that bitch a yours realize it was a shit plan?” he called out, even louder. Fuck him. Ghetto bastard wasn’ no better than the rest of ‘em, no matter what his Royal Highness thought.


Sometimes I realize my mind is meant to go away
Never have I seen your God
So why should I believe in faith


He threw a quick glance at their protector and then checked Zan’s tightly fisted hands. Finally. He’d waited a whole year to find something that would break Zan’s pathological control. Shoulda known it’d be her. “But Za-an you said we were foreva,” he mocked, grinning as Lonnie sniggered her amusement next to him. Fuck this King shit. Zan deserved everything he’d gotten tonight. Shoulda slapped the condescending bastard back into place long before now.

I feel your pins through my eyes

Rath raised his brows innocently, a sly grin curving his lips as he watched Zan’s jaw clench. How’s that composure now, Duke? “Neva figured Serena for a crier,” he continued loudly. “But did ya see them eyes fill up wit tears? Wouldn’ta thought she had it in ‘er ta cry. Specially for your sorry a…”

Piercing me all the time

Surprised by the force of the sudden blow, Rath choked on his own curse, stumbling back a step as Zan’s fist caught him square in the throat. It took him a second to get over the shock of realizing that the Duke had a temper. And a violent one at that. He caught his balance quickly.

Another time bomb

Good. It’d feel better when he kicked his ass, Rath decided, smile widening as he readied himself for the fight.

But Zan wasn’t satisfied with simply using his fists and even as Rath braced himself for another blow, he was spun around to face the tracks. His head swam with the angry burst of power Zan let loose and his whole being froze, shocked by the burning sensation that pulsed along his spine to the base of his skull, bleeding so deep it seemed almost cold.

Rath had never felt anything like it, and suddenly, he found himself completely unable to move. He hit the tracks heavily, feeling the rough tangle of Zan’s fingers in his hair as his head was lifted, bowing his neck at an angle that would have been painful if he could feel it.

“I tried bein’ patient,,” Zan muttered. “But I’m done waitin’ for your sorry ass to catch up wit the rest of the class,” he whispered against Rath’s ear.

Behind him, Rath heard the distant sound of a train entering the tunnel, felt it in the way the track vibrated underneath him. Yet, not even the desperate rush of adrenaline that swept his system could force his limbs to move. His head fell to the ground, the grit of the track digging into his cheek as he heard the scuffle behind him. He knew Zan had won even as Lonnie’s pained exclamation was slowly drowned out by the noise of a train he couldn’t see.

Zan towered patiently over him, letting him feel the train growing closer, the vibrations stronger as it bore down upon him. He could feel the warmth of his tears as they slid down his face and onto the tracks.

Now you got’s ta make a choice. We’re eitha friends, or we’re enemies, s’your call.” Zan paused, and Rath knew he was mentally timing the speed of the train. “Tick tick Gen’ral,” he prodded, sounding bored.

From his prone position Rath could see Zan’s boots, knew he was circling him slowly, smugly ignoring the oncoming train, secure in the knowledge that he could simply move out of the way. Just a few steps, the difference between life and death.

Rath whimpered softly, fear overrunning his pride until he was desperate for the simple opportunity to beg for his life. It wasn’t his fault, he pleaded silently. Hell, he hadn’t wanted to go after Zan at all. It was the protector who had insisted. But Zan refused to bother even asking for an explanation. He could smell his own death and terrified, Rath did the only thing he could. He closed his eyes and waited.

And then he was standing, his muscles protesting the speed of movement as the train blew past, a hairsbreadth from grating against his back. Breathing heavily, he focused on the lights flashing off the tiled walls of the subway platform, half afraid that Zan meant to shove him into the moving train. Their protector’s eyes sparked, reflecting the whining brakes of the train as it wound around the corner to the active stop.

And still, the shapeshifter did nothing to intercede. Fucker. His chest heaving with the sudden ability to take a deep breath, Rath returned his attention to Zan, all too aware of his still precarious position with the smaller boy.

“Pay attention now, son, I’m only gonna say this once. Serena’s off limits. You even mention her name ‘gain, I swear to God I’ll kill you. I’ll let that train hit you and then,” Zan leaned in closer, pushing his point further home as he made Rath take a step back onto the empty track. “Then, I’ll let it hit you again. An’ I’ll make sure you’re awake for every single fuckin’ minute of it.
I’m da man, I decide if you live or die an’ if I was you, I’d think about playin’ nice,” Zan finished coldly. He glanced down to the front of Rath’s pants and shoved him away in disgust. “Clean yaself up ‘fore you come back inta my house.”

Rath let Lonnie help him up and then pushed her away, trembling with rage and the last vestige of cold terror. He watched Zan reclaim his cd player from the ground and then follow their protector down the unused tunnel that led to their crib. And Zan’s new surprise. Rath ducked his head, hating the cold satisfaction that brushed across their Protector’s features. He’d been pushing Zan to claim his destined position for months now. Rath snorted. Fuckin’ destiny! Gumbie probably thought they were done, now. Zan, too.


Another time bomb, time bomb…

Rath shook his head. He’d learned long ago how to bide his time. Ask Carlos. Or Julian. The police hadn’t even found that sick fuck. Rath glared after the two of them, waiting until the music faded and he was sure they were out of earshot. “You’ll get yours,” he vowed, waving a quick hand over his pants to remove the wetness cooling against his leg. “I promise ya that.”

“Zan’s dead,” Rath repeated.

“You think death matters,” The Seer observed, shaking her head. “He’ll answer. For her, he’ll answer.”

Rath snorted. Whatever. “Serena’s on her own.” And suddenly he couldn’t wait to get his hands on her. He’d make her talk. He’d make her tell him everything, make her give him everything. And then…Rath smiled, licking his lips slowly. Then he’d make her scream.





****Teeny-tiny A/N: I thought it might be a bit confusing, the time frame Serena and Rath are remembering - Part 12 can actually shed a little (very little) light on how things went, but essentially they are all 14 in this part. The actual sequence of events will be explained in more detail later so just stick me for a little longer.

Thanks! And I'll see ya'll soon. Cross my heart... :lol:

Pathos
The fact that we are fools is duly noted...
But must that be our epitaph?

-SRC


I'd be an idiot if I weren't less than pleased about being doomed.

- Warren Zevon
User avatar
Pathos
Enthusiastic Roswellian
Posts: 49
Joined: Tue May 28, 2002 1:13 pm
Location: Chicago, IL

Post by Pathos »

Hey all -

A quick post and run - I swear, I'll get back to FB with 22b, which should be within the next week or so... :wink: Just wanted to say thanks for sticking with this, and I really appreciate all the FB and ecouragement.

See ya'll soon.

Pathos


********Part 22a***************

Trust me, My Lord…

Listen to me, My Lord…

I would never betray you, My Lord…

The voices whispered around him, disembodied and elusive, frightening in their aggressive sincerity. Max looked around, warily searching the darkness for the memory that was sure to claim him. It was there, hidden somewhere within the blurred movement of shadow falling on shadow. Disconcerted, he turned away from the ebony dreamscape.

And found himself face to face with Zahn’s silent visage. Exhaling roughly, Max stood frozen under the King’s harsh regard, caught somehow within darkness and time as he felt himself judged. And found wanting. Confused, he could only watch as Zahn slowly shook his head, his stern mouth turned down in a frown of disappointment. And disapproval.

Max swallowed hard, wishing for the courage or the cowardice to look away. Finding neither, he wished simply for the fortitude to pretend that he didn’t care.

But Zahn just sighed, a sad, patient sigh that bespoke a lifetime’s worth of surrendering to the inevitable.

Inhaling a sharp breath, Max couldn’t look away, couldn’t do anything but hate the sharp, solemn angles of Zahn’s features. Even as he recognized the close resemblance his own. He shook his head. It didn’t matter, he decided stubbornly. It wasn’t him. He wouldn’t let it be.

And still Zahn said nothing, choosing instead to remain a silent witness to the voices raging through the vast emptiness of this dreamscape.

Trust me…

Listen to me…

Betray you…

Max shivered, his entire being growing cold the longer he remained stranded in this dream. Turning away, finally, from Zahn’s unsettling gaze, he found himself seeking the memory that lay beneath the shadows. But there was nothing to ease the sense of loneliness that seemed to fall through the darkness to hang over him like a shroud.

Heart heavy, Max struggled suddenly for breath, for light, for something to hold onto in the midst of the emptiness. Finding nothing, he shoved himself away from the dream, determined to wake up. But the obsidian dreamscape only tightened its hold, gathering him closer until he couldn’t imagine that there was a way out.

Trust…

Listen…

Betray…

The voices blended, shifted seamlessly together until there was no distinguishing one from the next. Not that it mattered, the words meant nothing but treachery. He couldn’t trust them, couldn’t trust anyone. He was alone, and he always had been.

And that was what Zahn wanted him to understand.

Half defeated, Max wanted to fold under the weight of the isolation that seemed to define every life he lived. It was the burden of a King, the loneliness. He knew it, felt it just as Zahn did. But somehow it remained incomprehensible.

Because he wasn’t.

And the barest hint of her presence was enough to harden his heart against Zahn’s silent reproach.

Liz.

The whisper of her soul drowned out the voices that spoke only of deceit and betrayal, reminding him of what was true, what was now. He wasn’t Zahn, and he wasn’t alone. Max turned away from the wraith that wanted to consume him and reached for her, hesitantly at first, until he found her already cradled within the deepest part of himself. It seemed the most primal of instincts, the way he pulled her closer. And the warmest of feelings, the way she wound around his heart.

This was how it should be, he knew. There could be no denying the intricate weaving of her soul into his. Or was it his into hers? He couldn’t tell, and he didn’t care. The gentle reassurance that drifted steadily across their connection was an almost tangible thing, stronger even than the blunted edge of guilt that wanted to pry them apart. He pushed past the ineffectual barrier without a second thought, drawing her to him as the memory he’d thought forgotten, returned and found them.

Max shook his head, wondering distantly why her presence had banished the fear and the seclusion of Zahn’s lesson, but not the image. He took a deep breath, grateful for the way their connection cocooned him, separating him from the dream though it did nothing to still the scene playing out before them. Surprised by the freedom to simply watch, Max stepped forwarding, quickly becoming engrossed in the memory.

“Trust me, My Lord, I do not make these accusation’s lightly. I wouldn’t. You know that.” Raath asserted, studying his King as Zahn paced back and forth before him.

“The House of Sh’Ligh has been an ally of my family’s since…I cannot recall a time when they were not,” Zahn replied tiredly.

“I know. It is not the House, it is…”

“Larek said you had spent too much time among the enemy.”

Raath stiffened. “Highness,” he acknowledged, rising to his feet and turning toward the Queen. He inclined his head in brief acknowledgement of the crown and then returned his attention to Zahn. “Listen to me, My Lord,” he implored formally. “This has nothing to do with an ancient blood-pact. It is about what is happening now. Under your nose.”

Aeva’s eyes narrowed at the General’s lack of respect, but she said nothing to him, instead she reached out and placed her hand on Zahn’s forearm. “You cannot think to name Larek a traitor. His advice has been invaluable these last months.”

“He has been betraying us these last months!” Raath snapped.

“According to rumor, so have you,” Ava retorted smoothly.

“Aeva!” Zahn stepped quickly between his wife and his second. “Now is not the time.”

“What better time?”

“You doubt me?” Raath asked angrily, disbelief coloring his low voice. “After everything I have been through…you doubt…” Temper flaring dangerously, he threw his formally prepared report at Zahn’s feet. “Should you care to look at the evidence I’ve collected, you’ll see that it is not only the Talora making these accusations, it is not only your oldest friend, Zahn…

Zahn’s eyes narrowed at the sarcasm and he drew the General’s name out in soft warning. “Raath…”

Raath took a deep breath, his eyes going flat and cold as he regarded his King. “The truth is right before you and you’re too blind to see it. By the Fates! Even Sh’Ligh recognizes Larek’s birth as a blight upon their line. Ask your Seer. Ask Euster!” He nodded triumphantly as Zahn’s eyes widened in surprise. “He would clean his own house if he thought for a moment you would let him,” he muttered.

“Euster?” Zahn questioned in disbelief. “It was Euster who sent him to me!”

“He realizes his mistake. Send him back to Sh’Ligh, Zahn, before there is no turning back,” Raath encouraged desperately.

“Larek is his brother,” Aeva pointed out.

Raath didn’t even glance in her direction. “You are his King,” he told Zahn. “His first loyalty is to you.”

“And where does your first loyalty lie?” Aeva inserted silkily.

Raath shook his head, exhaling a defeated huff of breath when Zahn said nothing. “Do as you like, you always do.” He bowed briefly, mockingly to his King and then strode past Aeva, throwing the door into the opposite wall as he stormed from the room.

Aeva ignored the show of temper and came up behind her husband, propping her chin upon his shoulder as her arms stole around his waist.

Zahn shook his head, patting her hand absently before removing himself from her grip. “He has served beside me since we were children,” he told her quietly.

“He has,” Aeva admitted, taking a calming breath. “And I know how much he means to you, but even Raath is the first to admit that he was the closest to Vilon… “

“Do not continue that sentence.”

Aeva’s eyes narrowed at the cold authority behind the command, but she nodded. “I will leave you to your thoughts, My Lord.”

Heaving a tired sigh, Zahn ignored the soft rebuke in his Queen’s voice. “Thank you.”

“But…”

“Of course.” Zahn murmured, his eyes closing in exhausted frustration. “For there must always be a ‘but’.”

“You know in your heart who you can trust. You know I would never betray you, My Lord, and you know Raath has become increasing difficult to control.” Aeva sighed heavily. “You must pay attention to what your heart is telling you otherwise the results could be…disastrous.” She paused briefly. “My love.”


Swallowing hard, Max felt a shadow of the same cold suspicion that lit Zahn’s eyes. He felt the emptiness of the King’s soul, knew the bitter sting of betrayal though he couldn’t tell exactly where it was coming from, who it was coming from.

Frustrated, he tried to follow the fading memory, wanting, needing to know what happened.

Learn the Past. Build the Future.

But he could feel Liz pulling him towards consciousness, desperate to leave the weight of the dream behind. His attention shifted quickly, the threat of losing her presence enough to force him to let go of the vision. But already their tenuous connection was beginning to fade, becoming little more than a dream as his room took shape around him.

****************************

Liz awoke with a gasp, almost choking on the swift intake of air. She sat up, catching her journal before it could fall to ground and rearranging herself on the lawn chair. Breathing raggedly, she felt herself reach for Max, desperate to regain her lost sense of equilibrium. But it only faded along with his presence. Shivering lightly, she fought the urge to rush to his house even as the equally strong desire to cry herself back to sleep assaulted her. Closing her eyes, she hugged her knees to her chest and sat there, motionless and alone under a cold blanket of stars.

What was wrong with her? With them? Why couldn’t they do what they needed to do? Why couldn’t they just…let go?

And why was she still asking the question when she already knew the answer?

Pulling in a harsh breath, Liz opened her journal with trembling fingers and flipped to the last page. Sighing heavily, she shook her head, she slowly traced a finger over the single line she’d written before falling asleep.

We’re still connected. I think we always will be.

Liz took a deep breath, ashamed of the relief that flooded her soul at the thought. It was followed immediately by a sickening sense of dread. The whole world hung in the balance and she couldn’t let go. Max couldn’t let go. And worse than that…they didn’t want to. Even though the specter of his Destiny loomed closer every day. To both of them.

Biting her lip a little, Liz felt a vague sense of wonder begin to replace her guilt. It hadn’t been a dream, their earlier closeness, and she’d bet anything that the odd vision of lost royalty hadn’t been a dream either. Her heart stilled painfully. Zahn. She couldn’t quite force herself to think of him as Max, but with the same instinctive certainty that let her read Max’s heart, she knew what he was trying to say. Max had a Destiny, one she couldn’t be a part of.

Only she was. A part of him, of it, of…

Nothing came between us…until the end of the world.

Closing her eyes against the sting of tears, Liz dropped her journal under the lawn chair. She hadn’t understood the seeming selfishness until tonight. Until this moment. Because more than anything she wanted to ignore the call of what was right, of Destiny, of…of everything except the warm refuge she’d found wrapped in Max’s soul. She wanted to call him and tell him that there was another way, there had to be another way for them to be…together.

But there wasn’t, was there? They’d lived this out once before and…

Liz straightened resolutely, tears trembling hot against her lashes. It couldn’t matter, their connection. It couldn’t, but…

It sounded so easy, letting go. Sinking back into the lawn chair, Liz wiped ineffectually at her eyes. It sounded so easy.

So why did it feel damn near impossible?

****************************

“It is early,” the Seer noted.

Zeijahra shrugged, slowly twisting her long, auburn hair into a thick coil. “I just got in.” She secured the mass at the nape of her neck and began a circuit of the inner sanctum, noting the ashes that littered the floor in the middle of the room. She shook her head, unsurprised. What else would a Seer be doing, she wondered sardonically, refusing to give the old woman the satisfaction of asking who she’d read.

The Seer let the silence stretch out between them, watched as Zeia did a thorough inspection of the room, and then, when the quiet became too much for her said “It has been some time since you’ve come to see me.”

Her jaw tightening with the implied rebuke, Zeijahra turned toward the Seer. “It’s been some time since you were necessary,” she returned smoothly.

Unoffended, the Seer held Zeia’s gaze. “But I am necessary now?” she inquired softly. “How that gall’s you.”

Zeijahra smiled coldly, eyes narrowing on the cataracts clouding the Seer’s once bright eyes. “I do not have time to be galled. And please don’t think I find you necessary. What you are, for the moment, is convenient.”

Inhaling a deep breath, the Seer looked away first. “How so?”

The question weighed more heavily than she wanted to admit, but Zeijahra shrugged it away with the ease of long practice. It didn’t matter. What mattered was the mission. Unfolding the glossy surveillance photo she’d taken from Cal Langley, Zeia handed it to the Seer. “M’pret chezna.

Brows drawn together in shock, the Seer barely glanced at the image Zeijahra handed her. Instead, she sought the other woman’s eyes almost desperately. “You want me to read his…” she struggled briefly with the human word and then gave up. A cold shiver of warning pulsed against her heart. It had been years since she’d been given that order and never had it gone well. For anyone. “Zeia,” she chided gently. “What are you thinking?”

This time it was Zeijahra who looked away. What was she thinking? “My thoughts are not your concern,” she replied coldly. “M’pret chezna,” she ordered again. Show me the soul behind the eyes...Tell me what I already know. “Do it.”

As always when she was in the room with Zeijahra, the Seer felt the chaotic echo of a painful destruction. And as always, the rumblings stood completely at odds with the still, glasslike reflection of Zeia’s iridescent eyes. “No good can come of this,” The Seer reminded her fearfully.

“That is a matter of both opinion and perspective.” Zeijahra turned and waved a hand at the idle coals in the center of the room, rearranging them so that four sweeping arcs gracefully outlined an oval iris at the center of the formation. She stared at the ancient symbol, brought it to flaming life and felt the low thrum of power that promised an answer to her question.

Zeijahra shook her head, hating this moment and the request she was making.

The Seer took a deep breath and reached out with her power to trace along the stark lines that made up the eye. To seek, to find…it was a powerful charge, a curse, really, though she knew Zeia couldn’t understand that.

“M’pret chezna.”

Shivering against the impatience that colored Zeia’s voice, the Seer finally studied the picture she’d been given. And stilled, her entire soul gone cold as she saw what Zeia must have recognized. There before her…it wasn’t possible. But it was true.

The pale features were still so familiar, though it had been years since she’d seen him. But even more than the angles and planes that made up his face, it was the hair that gave him away. It had never been anything but an unruly, ruddy shadow of Sh’Ligh’s proud red. She looked up at Zeia, her eyes drawn to the crown of auburn hair that marked her as being of the House of Sh’Ligh even more than the Seal that was her birthright.

“Zeia,” The Seer chided softly. “What you are thinking? Larek died years ago,” she told her, stubbornly ignoring the insistent pulse of her power. It would be for the best.

“There is more than one way to die,” Zeia murmured, her quiet voice gone hard. She reached out and grabbed the photo, dropping it over the flaming iris. It was an old ritual, burning an image to read the shadow set loose, but the Seer barely paid it any heed.

The Seer shook her head, ignoring the pattern of smoke that rose purposefully from the flames as she focused on Zeijahra. “There can be no victory in this. You will fail, though your mission will succeed…”

“Do not attempt to read me,” Zeijahra ordered implacably. “No good will ever come of that. Read the flames.”

Shaking her head desperately, the Seer looked away from Zeia. “I cannot,” she whispered. “I do not wish…” But the image was now too clear to ignore. Paling even under the flush of heat, the Seer turned devastated eyes to Zeijahra. “What good can come of this? You cannot erase the past.”

Zeijahra smiled slowly, her blood fired by the prospect of a meeting she’d believed impossible.

The Seer gasped, stumbling back as she trembled within the heated confines of the room. “I can feel your soul, it screams for retribution.”

“I have never screamed,” Zeijahra rebuked her mildly. She studied the Seer briefly, noting the wrinkles and lines that marred the once smooth skin of her face. Aged, not old, she remembered suddenly. Aged by a power that took everything and gave nothing in return. “I have never screamed,” she repeated, turning from the eye and sweeping from the room.

The Seer shook her head sadly and extinguished the flames. “You have never stopped,” she murmured.
The fact that we are fools is duly noted...
But must that be our epitaph?

-SRC


I'd be an idiot if I weren't less than pleased about being doomed.

- Warren Zevon
Locked