Author: Danie aka DarkHalfUndine(On Outer Haven) aka Morrigan Undomiel(on fanatics)
Rating: Ok this is ADULT. Rape, Violence, Sexual situations(I've always wanted to say sexual situations, how does that work anyway, you walk into a room and it's like "Uh folks, be careful this is a sexual situation, hee hee, hee...sorry), a bit of harshness about the human condition.
Category: AU M/L M/M A/I K/A
Disclaimer: The characters don’t belong to me. They belonged to Jason Katims, Melinda Metz, UPN, etc. etc.
Summary: This is Roswell Clockwork Orange style. Meaning that gangs run the streets and cops can do nothing. There is plot! It's a love story folks(eventually). Also I used Ava because I will never use the foul Tess Harding as a good person in any fic I write. She is the sole cause of everybody's troubles on Roswell. So die Tess die.
Previous chapters

Done by Jen. QT's was unfortunately pruned cause it was too big. I don't know how to resize it so for the time being, it is just gonna be Jen's.
*Song by Robert Johnson*
All Maria had ever wanted was a guy who could sing the blues. Well in general she always wanted a guy who could sing, but the blues in specific. Why? Because the blues were the first thing her father had ever taught her. And it was the last thing he had ever shared with her.
The day he left and went off to whereever dreamers go, he’d picked her up, sat her down in his lap with guitar in hand and said to her:
“Ria, what do you want me to play baby?”
Maria was 7 and in love with her daddy as much as any little girl could be. He was tall, handsome, and his smile would light up a room and your heart. When Maria was older, she realized that had been the problem. He lit up too many hearts and didn’t have the strength to deny them.
Maria crinkled her naïve eyes at him and tugged at his curly blonde hair.
“Play me the Malted Milk blues!!”
Her father rolled his eyes playfully.
“That again!”
“Yes yes forever yes!”
He laughed, he had the same crinkled eyes as Maria when he smiled. They turned upward making them seem even more jolly. He looked at his daughter, and twirled a bouncy curl on her head. His throat got tight and he grew sad. Maria noticed immediately.
“Daddy, what’s wrong?” Maria’s eyes went big with worry.
“Oh nothing, baby. Just looking at you. You’re so beautiful, just like your mom. My angel.”
“Oh daddy.” Maria fell into a fit of flattered giggles while her father watched her for the very last time. His beautiful girls, that he couldn’t treat right. He wasn’t good enough for them he knew. He kept hurting his wife, and he knew that one day Ria would catch on and it would hurt her to. He couldn’t do it anymore. He felt a huge coward, but he figured it was for the best. They didn’t need him, although he needed them. He knew they would be strong, because his girls were always strong and he would, well he would move on, and give them a second chance for happiness.
“Alright pumpkin time for the song.”
Mellow blues chords strummed out from his guitar. He opened his mouth to sing when Ria stopped him.
“What hun?”
“Can I…sing with you?”
He felt the tears start again. Maria had told him she’d always wanted to sing with him and it was as if she sensed this would be her last chance. He gave her a goofy smile.
“Baby I would be delighted and honored and privileged and happy, and-“
“Daddy! The song! None of your nonsense words.”
He laughed genially.
“Alright.”
Her sweet tiny voice mixed with his strong clear belt and they made a harmony all their own.
I keep drinkin’ malted milk
Tryin’ to drive my blues away
I keep drinkin malted milk
Tryin’ to drive my blues away
Baby, you just as welcome to my lovin’
As the flowers is in May
Malted milk, malted milk
Keep rushin’ to my head
Malted milk, malted milk
Keep rushin’ to my head
And I have a funny, funny feelin’
And I’m talkin’ all out my head
Baby, fix me one more drink
And hug your daddy one more time
Baby fix me one more drink
And hug your daddy one more time
Keep on stirin’ in my malted milk, mama
Until I change my mind
My doorknob keeps on turnin’
It must be spooks around my bed
My doorknob keeps on turnin’
Must be spooks around my bed
I have a warm, old feelin’
And the hair risin’ on my head.
He played some more focusing on her favorite songs until she fell asleep in his lap. He put her to bed, tucked her in and went to his room. His wife was there, waiting, crying. He touched her and she didn’t move away. She whispered painfully:
“For tonight, I want you…one last time. I want to remember what it felt-“
He kissed her knowing that she wouldn’t be able to finish her sentence, and only happy to oblige her with the one thing he’d wanted as well. One last night. It was hard to think of it as the last time, knowing that he would never touch her in this way again. As they moved together, he could hear her sobbing softly. He tried to make it as good as the time before it had all fallen apart. He gave, gave, and didn’t care if he received. But she did. She always cared, so she gave just as much back. He started to cry. They finished tenderly holding each other tight, letting all that had torn them apart just stay away for one moment. Then they went to Maria’s room and kissed her. She smiled in her sleep.
With a tiny suitcase in hand, his guitar, and his favorite Humphrey Bogart throwback hat, he walked out of their lives that chilly early morning, forever.
“Here take this blanket.”
Michael threw a thick blue comforter at Maria and she caught it gingerly.
“Put it down on the ground.”
“I beg your pardon-“
“Just do it!”
Maria obliged him bitterly.
“There your highness, are you happy?”
Michael stopped. He turned with a sallow look. “Don’t call me that.”
Maria inwardly shook her head. God he had some serious issues. There was a 10-foot thick wall between him and everyone else and she had no idea how it had gotten there. He seemed to be having fun in this life. Raping, killing, living like a cave bear. She supposed it was just an act, a way to keep everything down. But why? Why the need to bury it all away?
Michael hated being called that. Your highness, or your majesty, it just rubbed him the wrong way, almost as if he knew somewhere he wasn’t meant to be called that, even in jest. As though in another life there was a time when no one would have joked about it.
“Now, sit down.” Maria glared at him for a moment before slumping down on the hard ground. The blanket did not provide any comfort. She shifted her dress and tried to relax. Michael stared at her while she fidgeted and tried to not show her discomfort. He moaned and reached for a bag.
“Here.” He chucked the bag at her knocking her over. Michael winced and prepared himself for the tongue-lashing. Maria however was too tired to argue. She rummaged through the pile until she found something comfortable and stalked off to a dark corner to change. He kept his eyes on her watching her hips sway, her hair tangled round her shoulders in disarray. Her beauty never left him, he was always aware of it plaguing him…in an annoying sort of way. He shook himself. There was no point in thinking like that, it never got a man anywhere but trouble. Seeking to distract himself, he picked up his sword and slashed through the air listening to the metal sing and his muscles tense. His gift had always been a keen ear, sometimes he could hear the sounds of 5 city blocks when the wind was right. He could hear the crickets and their tiny chirps on the grass of the old lots through the window of the warehouse, somewhere further than that there was a fight and bottles were falling with sounds of tinkling glass. Another typical night down here in district Roswell. He closed his eyes and swung at invisible opponents. He hoped to let it all go, the tension and despair, the pain and loneliness. Another typical night in district Roswell, wishing he was somewhere else.
Maria turned to see Michael practicing with his kitana. She froze now more afraid than before to leave the corner. She didn’t dare try to escape under his watchful eye now, he seemed to be able to sense everything even when he was “asleep”. No this was not the time now, but sometime soon, soon she would escape again, and the next time she would succeed. It was just a matter of careful planning. Plan: She didn’t intend to stay here and leave her life up to fate in the hands of this man. She would get out and make sure he was brought down to justice. She could never see this happen to another girl again. ‘This whole town was insane’ she decided, leaving their sons to fester and grow into monsters, leaving their daughters helpless and unprepared to face life. It was a plague that would continue to spread as much as they liked to pretend it only bubbled here. It would spread and go into the town. It had already begun. She moved slowly with careful steps back to the blanket at Michael’s bedside. He turned at her first footstep. His anger surprised her. She saw his arm trembling with exhaustion, gripping the sword and transferring his hate into it. A flicker of desire came to his eyes and Maria noticed. ‘I seemed to notice a lot about him’, she thought to herself. She shuddered. That was not a good sign.
The room seemed warmer now to Michael. It was the practice, he deemed. Why did he not seem so sure when he looked in her eyes? He ran a hand through his hair and plopped down in his bed sword in hand. He turned to her again. Maria had lay down and made a weak pillow with her dress. She banged into it with acrimonious fists and settled in. She saw him looking at her.
“Could you not stare like that?”
“I’m entitled to look anywhere I choose.” Michael said while shutting off the lights, casting them into darkness.
“Couldn’t you just- ooh forget it!”
Michael expected her to turn and ignore him so he closed his eyes, but five minutes later when they slid open she was still there staring at him in the black.
“What is it?”
“None of your business.”
“Fine.”
“…I can’t sleep.”
“….do you want to come up here with me?”
“NO way in hell!”
Michael scowled.
“Fine. Then shut up and let me sleep.”
“Michael.”
“What!”
“I don’t know.”
“God if you don’t know why don’t you zip it and ponder while I sleep!”
“I’m scared.”
Michael felt his throat burn with culpability. He opened his mouth to say something, but discovered no words.
“I know you don’t care, I just wanted to say that. I hate the dark in strange places.”
“Just go to sleep, it’s dark when you close your eyes too ya know.”
“Well thanks for the comforting thought.” Maria sighed exasperated and closed her eyes. Eventually, swaddled in anxiety, she drifted into a light sleep.
Michael stayed up and listened to her breathing even and deepen. He sort of smiled when he heard her soft snores. He began to drift when he leaped up remembering something. He fidgeted with it for a moment before plunging into bed for the night.
The room was dark, light coming from the tiny street lamp outside the window cast a slim shadow on the wall. Everything else was pitch, except for a tiny sleeping figure, now lit by the flickering of candle glow.