Roswell Fanatics

A.N. Thank you so much for the fantastic feedback. Hmm, so many people think it’s Dean that was in the beginning of chapter 7. I will tell you that it’s none of the Winchester boys, they don’t come into the story for a while. Originally I had another paragraph in that part but it gave too much away on who it was and I want to keep it a surprise for a while longer.

Chapter 8 A

4:00 p.m.

Liz pushed the door to the hotel room open. In her arms was a bag full of alcohol. And it wasn’t any of that beginner’s alcohol, like beer, maybe a wine cooler. No, it was honest to God alcohol that could get her shit-faced in a matter of minutes.

Tequila, vodka, whiskey, and ouzo, she bought that last one on a whim. She wanted to drown and dammit she was going to do it in style.

Earlier she bought a few items of clothing, enough to last her for two days. At the store some people noticed her and pointed at her. She honestly couldn’t have cared less. Sure she looked like she had gone a couple rounds with a boxer and all right so the bags under her eyes, chapped lips, slow movements and dull stare made her seem like a zombie…or drug addict. Didn’t give them the right to stare at her and point.

Once she went back to the hotel room she changed as fast as her injuries would allow her and went back out to the liquor store across the street. While there she saw the guy at the front counter stare at her oddly and when she put the alcohol in her basket he picked up the phone.

From his quick glances back and forth between her and the door she had a good idea about who he was calling. News vans and reporters would be outside his store in no time looking for her, the girl who had no parents.

She grabbed a couple more drinks and hurried up to the counter. He tried to stall her by taking his time ringing up her items, when he asked for her ID he looked at it very closely and carefully. When he looked into her eyes though he stopped stalling.

Maybe he saw something inside her that pulled at his heartstrings. Gave him a brief moment of caring and warmth towards her. Liz rolled her eyes, he probably saw she was within a hairs breath of ripping his spleen out through his throat.

Finally after five minutes he finished ringing her up, she paid and left the store in a hurry. As she crossed the street and made her way up to her room she saw the news vans pulling up to the store. Just like she thought, she was the story of the minute and dammit they’d give her their full attention until something better came along.

Once she set the bag on the table, Liz slowly began emptying it. The bottles were lined up in a row; she grabbed the first because it was the closest to her. With angry pulls she unwrapped the plastic that kept people from tampering with it and unscrewed the top. The burning whiskey set a flame of fire down her throat, it warmed her belly; it wasn’t nearly as nice her mother’s embrace would have been but it would have to do for now.

Swallow after swallow cascaded down her throat. Eventually she didn’t feel the burning sensation but her body warmed as more and more alcohol entered her system. She walked over to the bed and sat down, only taking small sips as she made herself comfortable.

July 8; 10:00 a.m.

Bam! Bam! Bam!

Liz wrinkled her nose. “What?”

Bam! Bam! Bam!

Her mouth was dry and she was facing down on the bed. Where was she? Liz lifted her head a bit and she groaned at the pain in her brain. She turned over to look at the lamp. “Hey…stop moving.” She stammered out.

“Miss. Parker!” A loud voice came from the other side of the door but it sounded like it was right in her ear.

Not feeling the screaming of her ribs from lying on them for a couple hours she rolled from the bed. She turned and turned laughing as she went until she landed hard on the floor. “Ow.” Liz giggled crazily.

Bam! Bam!

“Open the door Miss Parker, it’s Detective Malone and Redding.”

She popped up from the floor with gusto. “Company.” The bottles next to her bed clanked together as she struggled to her feet. Standing proved a difficult task all by itself, her feet refused to cooperate, and her legs weren’t working to well either.

Once she made it to her feet she couldn’t walk without the room moving on her. “Stop moving!” She yelled to the furniture. “It’s not nice.” She scolded.

On the table she noticed she still had one full bottle left of alcohol. She felt bad about ignoring the bottle. It looked at her as if to say ‘Don’t I mean anything to you?’ Nodding to it she said, “I’ll drink you later.”

Finally after much huffing and puffing she made it the door and unchained the top of the door and twisted the deadbolt then she opened it to the two Detectives. “Guests.” She smiled.

“Miss. Parker? Are you all right?” Redding stepped forward into the hotel.

Liz stood straighter and stared at the man in front of her. “Whoa personal bubble.” She stared up at him and almost fell back but he caught her before she could topple over. “You’re really tall.” She giggled again.

Detective Malone stepped in behind her partner and saw the full alcohol bottle on the table and the three empty ones on the floor. “She’s plastered.”

“What was your first clue?” Redding carefully lifted the intoxicated young woman up in his arms and carried her to the bed.

“Elizabeth?” Malone stood next to the bed leaning over her. “Where did you get the alcohol?”

Liz stared at her oddly, where did she get it? “The Alcohol Fairy brought it.” She laughed and tried to turn over onto her side but Malone kept a hand on her shoulder. In her inebriated state it was enough to keep her from moving too much.

“Was it the Liquor Store across the street?”

“Well, where else would I—“ Oh she didn’t feel good. With little warning she turned toward the detectives and vomited on the floor right at their feet.

Malone stood up shocked and disgusted, but she quickly got over it and grabbed the wastebasket shoving it under the sick girl.

“I’ll get some towels.” Detective Redding hurried to the bathroom and grabbed two large towels and a washcloth. He wet the washcloth and hurried back out. Elizabeth was still losing the stomach full of alcohol into the trashcan.

A few minutes later she stopped and was laying face up on the bed with the wet cloth on her forehead. She felt awful. During the night she had forgotten about her problems, everything was fine and great, she found everything funny and nothing sad. Guess she knew what kind of drunk she was, a happy one.

“What time is it?” She mumbled out. Were there cotton balls in her mouth? She felt around the inside of her mouth but didn’t find cotton balls. Liz cringed at the gross taste she had though.

Squeezing her eyes shut she wished to go home. She wanted her Mommy and Daddy. They’d hold her and whisper their love into her hair. She’d cry but the tears would subside quickly with her parents comforting her. Flashes of their bodies raced through her mind.

Nausea threatened to take over her again but she managed to keep what little she had in her stomach down. The pictures in her head of the creature that took them away from her snarled at her, as if it didn’t like being at the forefront of her mind.

“It’s about ten in the morning.” Malone spoke with authority but softly.

Groaning Liz eased up. “And the day?”

“July eighth.” Redding told her. He watched as she wiped her face with the small towel then pushed her hair back.

“Jose’s coming today.” Liz whispered more to herself then anyone else. Swallowing hard she looked at the two cops standing in her room. “Why are you here? Did you find who killed my parents?”

“No. We stopped by to check on you and take you to lunch.” Malone revealed. It would be the perfect time to get some information about her. A casual meal could open many doors that Elizabeth wanted to keep closed.

Liz glared up at her. “Do I look like I want to go to lunch with anybody?” She stopped the rest of the sentence from leaving her mouth; did it look like she wanted to eat lunch with them?

“You need to eat.” Redding smiled a little at her.

Immediately Liz went on the alert, she tensed a bit. She was use to guys smiling at her, she had her fair share of admirers but being apart of the Alien Abyss tended to make one suspicious of even the most innocent of smiles.

Reluctantly she nodded. “All right.” Sniffing she scooted toward the end of the bed. “Let me take a shower.”

Having very little personal effects she grabbed her purse from the end table…how did that get there. Hadn’t she left it on the other table by the window? She must have moved it when she was drunk. Standing on shaky legs she shuffled toward the bathroom, along the way she picked up the shopping bag filled with the clothes she bought earlier. With a soft click of the door Liz was out of their view.

TBC

Next Chapter: Liz and the detectives go to lunch. But it's not smooth sailing.

Also I'll be apart of the Support Stacie Chatathon/Author Chats that's going on this weekend at Roswell Heaven. I'm going to be on at 2 p.m. (Central Time) on Saturday, May 10th. There are going to be a lot of great authors there to chat with. Hopefully I'll see some of you there.

A.N. Thank you everyone for the feedback. This chapter has been poking at me for the last couple weeks, unfortunately I’ve been too tired/run down to really work on it. Still tired but I had to write if only to keep my muses happy.

A few of the demons/creatures/supernatural beings that are mentioned in this are from the book A Field Guide to Demons, Fairies, Fallen Angels, and Other Subversive Spirits, by Carol K. Mack and Dinah Mack. Some will also obviously be from the show and a couple may be from Internet research. (I’ve also put this in the disclaimer on the first post).

I know many are anxious for Dean (and Sam) to enter the story, I'm anxious too. I'm itching to start writing the scene when they come face to face and meet but I have a fairly tight outline that I need to stick with. This is one fic where if I don’t stick to the outline closely I’ll be disappointed in myself for going too fast through this time in Liz’s life.

Liz is entering the Supernatural verse slowly; Dean and Sam aren’t the first characters from the show that she meets. In fact they’re more like the fifth/sixth people that she meets. Right now she’s realizing that there are more than aliens out there, but I don’t want her to get fully immersed in this world yet, she's just on the surface and there’s a small hole where she can see some things but not get the whole picture or be a part of that world. (I hope that made sense).

Song for Ch 8A and 8B is Nobody’s Home by Avril Lavigne.

Chapter 8 B

11:15 a.m.

It took an hour for Liz to shower and dress. When she left the bathroom the floor had been cleaned up of her vomit and the window was ajar letting fresh air breeze into the room.

The detectives watched her closely as she limped over to the bed and sat down for a second breathing in slowly giving her ribs a brief rest before reaching for her shoes. Detective Malone kept silent as she slipped on her shoes but once they were on she asked a question.

“Where did you get the clothes?”

Liz swept her gaze over to her in a slight glare. “Store.” She took a deep breath and then pushed off the bed being careful of her injured wrist. Still dizzy from her alcohol binge she closed her eyes and steadied her legs. Shit, her damn headache was back. Liz pinched the bridge of her nose in frustration.

“Where did you get the money to buy those clothes?” She prodded.

Irritated Liz snapped back. “I have a job Detective, it helps when you need to buy things.” She limped by Malone and picked up Jose’s jacket cradling it to her chest. “Now you said you wanted to take me out to lunch. Fine, don’t care, but I'm not going to stand here and be berated with questions that a five year old could answer.”

Redding thought Tracy, his partner, was all washed up on her theory about Liz Parker. Being in the room with her he could see she was heartbroken over her parent’s murders. Her eyes were dead, even as she argued with Malone there wasn’t a glimmer of life.

Tracy wouldn’t let go of her theory that Liz Parker was behind Nancy and Jeff’s deaths. Why had she been dawdling around town when, according to the people they’d questioned that hadn’t been her usual pattern the last month and a half. Why did whoever pushed her down the stairs leave her instead of killing her like Nancy and Jeff? Evidence and statements weren’t matching up to her story and Tracy Malone was going to find out why.

Noah Redding moved between the two females, “We do want to take you to lunch. And if you’re ready maybe you can answer a few questions for us?”

Relaxing her scowl Liz nodded. “At least you asked.” Slowly turning back around she opened the door and stepped out waiting for the two Detectives to leave her room.

Once they were out she closed the door behind them. It was hot outside but thankfully not unbearably hot. They escorted her to their vehicle; Redding opened the door for her and waited patiently as she eased in. Once she was settled he reached in to buckle her seat belt, too tired to wave off his assistance she let him, his thumb accidentally brushed against the exposed patch of skin on her hip.

Her vision blurred, once able to see vibrant colors now all she saw was black and white.

“Stop right there!” A voice shouted forcefully.

Liz twisted her head around to see who spoke. Redding was standing outside his car, the door between him and whomever he was shouting at. He had his gun drawn and aimed in her general direction but not at her.

In slow motion she turned back around getting a look at whom else was there. A nearly naked woman crouched down staring menacingly at Redding. She looked human except for two key things, her hands and feet were clawed, and blood dripped down her mouth.

It was the only color she could see. Blood red, sticking to her chin and throat, dripping onto the hot desert floor.

Redding pulled away and her vision left when his thumb lifted from her hip. Sweat beaded on her forehead and she let out a shaky breath.

“Are you okay?” He saw her freeze and stare straight ahead.

Nervously she nodded and tried to get as far away from Detective Redding as the seat would allow. Not quite believing her but not able to do anything either he closed the door and went to the driver’s side.

Not long after they started driving toward the restaurant Malone turned in the passenger seat. “Either tomorrow or the next day you’ll be able to go back home.”

“So soon?” Liz questioned, the creature in her vision still at the forefront of her mind.

“Yes, we have people who once we’re done collecting evidence that will “clean up”.” She explained.

Liz stared out the window and heard the unsaid words Detective Malone cut off. They’d clean up her parent’s blood; she wasn’t sure how they’d get the dried in lake of blood out of their beige carpet. Mom spilled orange juice on it two years ago and no matter how much Resolve™ she used it didn’t come out. Blood had to be harder than orange juice.

Silence took over the cars occupants again until they arrived at the restaurant. Liz unbuckled, not waiting for the Detectives to help her and pushed open the door. Stepping out of the car proved a little more difficult but she managed without their help.

With Jose’s coat still clutched to her chest she followed behind Redding and in front of Malone. They entered the restaurant and within a few minutes were seated at a table in the middle level. The establishment had the tables set up like theatre or concert seating. The large windows were at the front and there was a lower level directly behind the glass, then another level slightly higher, the level they sat in and lastly another level slightly higher.

The reason for that kind of seating was the view. A bright blue cheerful sky and on the horizon mountain tops, at sunset the yellow globe of fire and light would peak through the spaces and try to grab a little more attention. Below the mountains a small man-made lake gently swayed with the wind.

The restaurant was crowded; she was surprised they managed to get a table. Why Redding and Malone decided on this place was a mystery to her. It wasn’t exactly a cheap place to eat, although it wasn’t ridiculously expensive either.

When she had first entered she noticed the stares shot her way. Too many people watched the news, she was sure of it by their reaction to her presence. Didn’t these people have their own lives to live?

A waiter came up to their table. “Hi, I'm Keith I’ll be your server today. Can I start you off with some drinks?”

Redding looked toward her first. Liz doubted they’d allow her to drink alcohol in their company so she didn’t even bother trying. “Cherry coke.”

Malone and Redding, she still hadn’t been told their first names, stuck with water. The least they could do was pretend they wanted lunch with her. Ordering water said that they didn’t want to wait the extra minute or two it would take to fill a glass full of a different beverage. It was rude.

Of course she didn’t say anything though, what good would it have done? While the waiter was gone filling her drink order, she looked at the menu. Her mouth still felt like cotton balls were shoved in her cheeks, not to mention her nausea bubbled at the top of her stomach.

After mentally tossing out most of the menu she decided on a simple club sandwich. Liz put the menu down and stared down at the table. The view from the window would have been beautiful, if she could have looked at it. As it turned out bright, eye piercing sun shining through the glass wasn’t conducive to getting rid of a headache.

A low murmur of whispering voices could be heard but nothing she could make out. Malone chose that moment to lean forward and start asking her some seemingly innocent questions.

“Liz, do you have any friends in town that you could stay with? We realize you didn’t want to stay with your co-worker Jose but is there anyone else you’d be comfortable with staying with?”

Liz glanced up from her intense gaze at the table. “If I did I wouldn’t be staying at a hotel.” At a time like this when her entire world was falling apart there were only two people she’d want to go to besides her parents and that was Alex and Maria. Unfortunately one resided in a cemetery while the other wasn’t on planet Earth any longer. That effectively knocked those two out of her options list.

“Do you have any relatives—“ Redding tried.

“None in Roswell or even close to Roswell.” She whispered staring intently at the water in her glass; she followed closely the water droplet that slid down the short glass and soaked into the white tablecloth below.

Liz swung her gaze around the room, getting angry at the multitude of stares. Her lungs felt tight, like someone was sitting on her chest. Why did they have to take her to lunch? There were too many people there. Too many watching her, waiting for her to break.

The waiter came back then with her drink and then took their orders. Once he wrote them down he went back to the kitchen.

“Why were you staying out that night, so late, when you had stayed in almost every night for a month before that?” Malone saw her fidget and hoped she’d catch herself in a lie and she’d be able to close the case on her parent’s murder. She hoped it would be that easy but she doubted it.

Liz sniffed. “Already told you that answer but if you need to hear it again okay. I had a doctor’s appointment; one Dad set up for me. I needed to talk to Alex, but I didn’t feel like talking to air, so I went to the cemetery, called my parents, let them know.”

“And they were still alive?” Redding while not agreeing with his partner’s theory backed her play.

“Of course. If they hadn’t of answered I would have gone straight home from the doctor.” She explained.

“Why?” Malone softened her tone but didn’t let up.

Sighing Liz played with her napkin. “I wouldn’t want them to be worried.” She spoke slowly and carefully. “Besides if I didn’t talk to them directly and I didn’t come home when I was suppose to…” Liz shook her head and scoffed.

“Did your Dad hurt you?” Redding ventured.

“What?” Liz breathed out.

Malone sipped at her water. “We know what kind of man he was before he met your mother. Wild, drank, got arrested a few times for drugs and once for attempted murder. Not to mention that he was the one who drove the car killing his girlfriend. Whose to say he didn’t revert back…or never stopped.”

Steeling her jaw Liz sucked back her tears, how dare she speak about her father that way. “I know what kind of man he was before he met Mom. And I know what kind of man he was after, he would never hurt me, he’d—“ She swallowed hard, “he’d take care of himself before that ever happened.”

The whispers increased in volume and she stared at everyone. Some were staring but others had apparently gotten bored with keeping her in their line of vision. She shut her eyes, she could make out a few sentences here and there, but the ones that came through were all directed at her.

That poor child, so alone.

Killed her parents.

Went psycho and butchered them.

Is she crying?

{Snarl.}

At that she opened her eyes. What the hell was going on? With her eyes open the whispers lowered in volume so she couldn’t understand any of the sentences but they were still background noise.

Their waiter came back to the table and set the plates he was carrying in front of her and the two detectives. Liz glanced at her watch; she just had to keep it together for a little while longer than she could go to the hotel room.

Leaning forward she began picking at the club sandwich she ordered. She barely noticed the back and forth glances between Malone and Redding. Malone was irritated that she wasn’t as cooperative while Redding seemed like he wanted his partner to back off.

Finally after a mostly silent lunch of her ignoring questions the duo asked, the detectives drove Liz back to hotel. Malone stayed in the car and Redding helped her up to the room. She thanked him quietly for lunch and shut the door behind her not waiting for his response.

When she shuffled over to the bed, her ankle throbbing because she walked on it too much she realized she had a problem. Her lone bottle of alcohol was gone. The detectives must have confiscated it when they saw her a giggling mess.

She looked at the time, almost one in the afternoon. Okay, she’d give her ankle two or three hours to rest, then she’d go to the liquor store again and restock. She’d have to wait till after Jose came to continue her binge but at least she’d have the alcohol to do it with.

Liz eased back onto the bed and laid back. She rested her head on the pillow and the tears flooded forth. The soul crushing reality that her parents weren’t there to stop her from making a huge mistake hit home. They wouldn’t be there to rip the alcohol from her hand, yell at her for trying to screw up her life, she’d give anything for them to shake their head in shame.

TBC

Coming Up: Liz goes to gather her things and remembers moments with her parents.

Detzer84: Thank you so much. Good guesses on the hunter. Whether or not it's either one of them you'll have to wait a couple more chapters. If I say much about the hunter it'd be obvious who it is. All I will say is that it's a character that was introduced in the Supernatural show and the boys know him. The hunter is not a new character. Which I know is not much to go on but soon the identity will be revealed.

A.N. Thank you everyone for the feedback. I forgot to save it so I can't remember what people wrote . Sorry this took so long to get out. While I have the next 20-25 chapters mapped out sometimes it’s hard to sit down and write. Thankfully once I started writing the words flowed out easily. It’s always nice when that happens.

This was going to be split into two parts due to length but I couldn’t find a good place to stop and break it up. It didn’t feel right splitting it so it’s one longer part (about 5-6 pages).

Song for Chapter 9: Moonlight Sonata by Beethoven

Chapter 9

July 9; 1:18 p.m.

It had been twenty-four hours since her failed lunch with the detectives. What happened at the restaurant would surely keep her on the suspect list. She wasn’t stupid, Malone clearly thought of her as the murderer. Yelling at the voices in her head to shut up hadn’t given them any reason to believe she was sane and incapable of killing her parents.

Liz stared up at the UFO crash landing into her family’s business. The double entrance doors were shut tight with crime scene tape still plastered over the windows. The bright yellow tape glared back at her, mocked her, and let her know that the restaurant and apartment above were no longer her home.

Through the window, which now because of interested people was smudged with fingerprints, she saw many chairs pulled out and not in the normal order it would be in if none of this had happened. She licked her chapped lips and sniffed softly.

Briefly she turned away from the front entrance and stared down the street. A few people on the sidewalk stopped and pointed at her. When they noticed her watching them watching her they had the decency to turn away and continue on their way, although not without sneaking peeks at her as they went.

Jose stopped by yesterday afternoon. She had only just returned from the liquor store when she saw Jose’s car pull up near her motel room. Quickly opening the door she hurried, as well as she could, to hide the alcohol.

He brought her pain medication and stayed and talked with her for a half an hour. For a small moment in time she contemplated ending it all. She had pain killers and alcohol; it probably would have been easy. However her faith stopped her from seriously considering the option. While not an overly religious individual she did believe in God and the consequences of taking her life. Eternal damnation didn’t appeal to her.

A little further into his visit Jose mentioned that since the Crashdown was technically a crime scene, even though the murders happened upstairs, that the restaurant couldn’t be opened during the gathering of evidence. He stopped by the place yesterday asking to get a few items of hers but the police wouldn’t allow him access since he wasn’t family. They probably wouldn’t have let her in either since she was a suspect.

Although he might not have meant to he made her feel guilty that he and the other staff members were at least temporarily out of a job. Dad and Mom were the manager/owners of the restaurant, but in the event that they couldn’t make it in they had a third party come in as an assistant manager and he’d take over while they were gone. However the contract never specified what would happen in the event of their deaths. Everyone was floating in the sea of uncertainty and she didn’t know what to do.

Sensing her guilt Jose changed the subject to other things like Carla and her pregnancy. Unfortunately her mind kept wandering to the tasks that were suddenly her responsibility. Did the staff get paid even though they weren’t open for business? What if she didn’t want the restaurant any more? What if she did? Who would take care of the Crashdown? And the one question that plagued her most of all, who would take care of her?

A few more minutes had passed and Jose noticing how helpful he wasn’t being, decided to leave. He told her he’d be there for her if she needed anything and he’d stop by tomorrow if he could. Since he was searching for a temporary job that came first on his list of priorities so he might not be able to come by till the day after tomorrow.

Liz limped over to the side of the building. Over the last couple days her injuries had gotten better, than got worse. The doctor’s at the hospital warned of that possibility occurring, sometimes on the third day it felt worse than when the injury was first sustained. Just one more thing to screw up her afternoon.

Even though there were more stairs leading up to the apartment on the side entrance she couldn’t quite bring herself to walk up the stairs in the Crashdown. Every time she closed her eyes she saw that creature snarling at her, dripping her parent’s blood from its wide ferocious jaws.

Her stomach rolled and she gripped the railing. Miraculously she kept her small breakfast down and continued on her way up the metal staircase. Finally she reached the top and took out her keys slipping them into the lock. The sound of the lock releasing pounded in her ears like a drum.

As if in slow motion she turned the knob and opened the door. Because the upstairs wasn’t originally an apartment the steel door opened out instead of in. Standing at the threshold she breathed one big inhale letting the air expand her lungs and calm her nerves as best it could. Gathering her courage she took one big step inside and shut the door behind her.

The heavy door sounded like the closing of a tomb. It wasn’t a far off analogy considering what happened there and the current empty and eerie atmosphere around the apartment. Swallowing passed the lump in her throat she took slow methodical steps further into the living room.

Each slap of tennis shoes on tile was carefully thought out. Heel, ball, toe. Heel, ball, toe. The meticulous execution of walking was the only way to continue her progress forward into the room.

A low hum could be heard around the room. The room’s cool temperature was a stark contrast from the baking heat outside. She wished she brought Jose’s jacket with her.

The darkness enveloping the space around her brought both comfort and terror. Comfort for the harsh reality it hid from her and terror of the known. She knew what was there; cut out pieces of carpet, some furniture most definitely missing, and while she knew what remained hidden in the dark, turning on the light would confirm the murder of her family.

Until then there had been a sliver of hope that all that occurred was just a horrible nightmare and she’d wake up and be held by Mom and Dad. But when she switched on the light her fears were realized. It wasn’t a nightmare that she could wake up from. It was real and it hurt like hell.

Liz violently bit her lip desperate to keep the sob locked inside. Her parent’s home was gutted. The living room lay practically bare of anything. The only two things that remained was a large book case with various knick-knacks and books on the other side of the room from the door leading down to the Crashdown and her parent’s television set and stand along that same wall.

She knew what to expect because the police told her that they took everything with blood on it. Seeing the room though empty and hollow made the expected seem unexpected. Even the door was taken out, but that she could see had been replaced with a new one. The police gave her the set of keys.

Sniffling she wiped her nose with the back of her hand. Liz continued through the barren living room toward the direction of her room. Beneath her feet tile gave way to carpet which quickly became tile again. The cleaners really did a good job; she couldn’t even see the blood that most definitely soaked through the carpet and into the tile below.

When she reached the hallway, once again carpet cushioned her footfalls. Liz’s chin quivered as she leaned against the wall. Her ribs ached painfully at her uneven breaths. Gently she rubbed under her arm and along her bruised torso.

Pushing away from the hallway wall she walked through more darkness, that time she didn’t turn the light on, she knew the way through the home by heart. Even with the meager glow from the living room’s overhead light she could barely see an inch away from her face but she never stumbled once.

Reaching her door she twisted the knob and pushed it open. The door got stuck for a second, as it always did when she opened it but it didn’t take much to push passed the jam. When she and her parents moved into the upstairs apartment Daddy tried to fix the jam. At five years old she thought he sounded funny yelling and swearing at the door when everything he tried helped nothing.

Liz flipped on the light and sighed as her room was bathed in false light. Although she could see okay with the light from the window she needed more to see everything in her bedroom. In the apartment, before moving in, there had only been two windows originally, one in her room and one in her parent’s. Later there had been one window added to the kitchen and another in her parent’s room.

Her bedroom, the one refuge from the craziness of her life was no longer a safe haven. Her home was no longer a safe haven. Steeling her nerves she got to work in packing up some of her things.

Liz grabbed a duffle bag and moved to her dresser grabbing a few pairs of pants and a few shirts. She didn’t bother to fold them. Socks, underwear, and a bra were stuffed into her duffle bag next. Once she got the clothes she went over to her desk.

The laptop Dad gave her for her birthday last year was exactly where she left it right in front of her chair. Getting the cord out of the wall didn’t make her side feel good but she managed and put the laptop into her duffle bag.

Around the room she went gathering a few things that she thought she would need. She didn’t plan on coming back to the apartment for a few days. She had to get everything ready for the funeral and inviting people and whatever else she had to do for her parent’s.

Earlier, before coming to the Crashdown, she got a call from a funeral director. The man, a regular customer at the Crashdown plus a good friend of Jeff’s, had offered to help her with anything to make the—experience a smooth one or as smooth as it could be.

Jeff and Nancy both set aside funds for their funerals, however neither expected to leave the land of the living so soon. There was only a little more than a thousand dollars in those funds. For the last five years they’d been slowly putting in money so by the time they were old and grey it would be enough to cover both her parent’s funeral expenses.

It didn’t take long to pack up the few things she’d need to bring to the motel. As she lifted her bag onto her shoulders she quickly swept the room with her gaze. So many happy memories were contained within these walls. Sad memories, angry ones, and meaningless ones too. So many memories shattered in an instant.

Silently she walked through the bedroom door and back into the hallway. Directly across from her door was her parent’s bedroom. Did she want to go in there? Nights of being sick and laying in Mom and Dad’s bed watching TV and sleeping the illness away. Borrowing Mom’s jewelry for a special occasion and the moments of pride that she had when she got to wear some of the more expensive pieces.

Taking a deep breath she set her duffle bag on the side of the door leading to the master bedroom. The door was ajar and she could see the lamp next to Nancy’s side was still lit. Liz clenched her jaw and rested her forehead against the door molding. Mom had been up waiting for her the night she was killed.

Every night Nancy would get prepared for bed at about seven in the evening. She’d go to bed at about eight thirty but not before reading a couple more chapters in the latest novel she was reading. Mom, most mornings, got up at two-thirty or three o’clock.

Nancy got started with the housework early usually beginning with cleaning the windows while watching movies or the television programs she frequently missed by going to bed so early. By the time Liz and Jeff awoke to start their day Nancy had their breakfast done or almost done. When Jeff would go downstairs to the Crashdown and she to school Mom would take a break and then an hour later would be back keeping the home clean. Only once stopping for a significant amount of time to watch The Young and the Restless and to eat lunch.

The only time Mom stayed up any later was if she waited for Liz to arrive home. Liz and Nancy weren’t always the closest mother and daughter but it warmed her heart that Mom refused to go to sleep until she was safe and sound at home.

Gathering her frazzled emotions she pushed open the door completely. Her father’s dresser, near the door, had a thin coating of dust over the top. Mom normally dusted every other day after lunch. She liked order, everything in its place, everything clean, and everything on a schedule. Dad on the other hand would leave his things lying around, strewn about and most importantly in Mom’s way.

Liz ran a single finger over the spattering of dust rubbing it absentmindedly between her index finger and thumb. The book Nancy had been reading that night laid spread a quarter of the way through. A small glass of water sat right next to it on the end table and the top sheet cover was tossed back.

Liz sealed her eye lids shut and thought on those final few moments in her parent’s bedroom. It didn’t require much imagination on her part. Mom had been reading later than normal, waiting for her to return. She heard Dad answer the door or make a noise or even scream and shout. Mom would have set the book down and threw the thin covers off her body and raced into the living room.

{Growl}

Her eyes shot open. Whipping her head around quickly Liz searched for the source of the growl in her mind. She went to her parent’s bedroom window and looked out. There were a few people walking down below. That was the second time since Mom and Dad’s death that she’d heard people thoughts. She pressed the palm of her hand against her forehead and wondered, not for the first time, what was happening to her.

Who would be thinking a snarl and a growl? Maybe the better question would be what thought in snarls and growls? Erasing the question from her mind, at least for now, she spotted Mom and Dad’s closet door. Stepping over to it she grasped the gold round knob and pulled while pushing simultaneously. The well used door opened with ease. Rows and rows of clothes hung up neatly. From casual, to dressy and everything in between.

Liz ran her hand over the tops of Jeff and Nancy’s garments that hung on the hangers. Various fabrics slid under her fingers, a few tickling her finger pads. Looking fondly at a piece of clothing her hand stopped on she pulled out one of her father’s favorite shirts. Removing it from the hanger she stared at it for a moment.

Before long Liz held her father’s blue buttoned shirt that he wore when he wasn’t behind the grill helping out up to her nose. Smelling the collar brought a rush of memories. Stale cigarette smoke, a hint of leather from the chair in his office, and the slightest bit of cologne that Mom got him for his birthday wafted from the garment.

Needing the comfort those familiar scents brought she put on the shirt and wrapped it around her body. Looking in the closet again she found a similar shirt that Mom always stole from Dad’s side of the closet. Nancy wore it so often that she had replaced Jeff’s smell with her own.

Smiling sadly she remembered seeing Mom wearing the shirt when she was cleaning or doing laundry. Sometimes she’d see her put it on when Dad was out of town for a meeting or convention that she couldn’t go to.

As she did with her father’s shirt she brought the piece of clothing up to her nose and smelled it triggering more memories. The scent of cleaning solutions, fabric softener, and her raspberry lotion, that she always put on her arms and legs once in the morning and once at night, came from the shirt reminding her of hugging Mom and walking by her in the kitchen.

Carefully she set the shirt down on the bed and reached into the closet. Down on the floor was an empty box, it took a few painful tries to grab it but once she did she smiled. Liz put the box next to the shirt, lifted the shirt back into her hands and folded it neatly and placed it with care into the box.

Going back to the closet she found a few more items of clothing from her Mom’s side and folded them the same way and just as cautiously into the box. She limped over to Mom’s dresser and grabbed her raspberry lotion and the perfume that she normally wore when she ran out of lotion and put them beside her folded clothes and closed the lid. Liz wanted to keep that smell as long as she could and when she got lonely she’d be able open the box and just remember.

Wanting to do the same with her some of her father’s clothes she went to the living room closet, near the front door where they had kept more boxes and pulled one out. As she went to turn back toward her parent’s bedroom she spotted Dad’s truck keys on the wall. Mom hated it when he left his keys on the table closest to the front door. So she’d move the keys to the hook on the wall near the kitchen.

Liz breathed hard, she was overworking her battered body but she didn’t want to stop yet. She grabbed the keys from the hook and put them in her pocket she’d take Dad’s truck with her. “Dad won’t need it any time soon.” She spoke to the empty room.

At her gallows humor she laughed sardonically. Her ribs hurt but she didn’t care. Once her laughter died down she stood up straight again. Everything hurt. Her body, her mind, and her heart, she wanted it all to stop.

Mom would have appreciated her humor. That was one of the few things they shared. When something bad happened they joked about it with each other. She’d say a crass statement and it’d get Nancy going. Neither ever did it in front of anyone but Jeff, too many people might think they were cold and unfeeling.

The truth was they probably felt things too much. Joking about it though, laughing it out helped in the long run. Who would appreciate her macabre sense of humor now? Who would be right along side her making light of a man they didn’t know jumping to his death off a cliff?

For the next few moments she packed some of her father’s shirts along with a few things that would keep the articles smelling like him. She grabbed another box, this one smaller, from the hall closet and packed up some of her mother’s favorite and sentimental jewelry. Then she took Grandpa’s wedding ring, Jeff kept it in a ring box next to his dresser.

Once she closed the boxes tight she took them out to the living room one at a time. While fairly light weight she couldn’t carry more than one down the stairs. Her broken wrist and sprained ankle, along with her ribs wasn’t conducive to carrying multiple packages—oh yea, that’d be a comical sight. She’d step on the first stair and tumble down, like Meryl Streep in Death Becomes Her. Only she wouldn’t be getting up after her fall.

Again she chose to go down the long way. She wasn’t ready to face the stairs leading to the backroom of the Crashdown. Four trips later she leaned against the truck catching her breath. Boxes filled with her parent’s things were in the bed of the truck. Her duffle bag sat in the passenger seat.

Able to breathe normally again Liz opened the driver’s side door, climbed in and started the truck. Late into the night yesterday she realized that she couldn’t stay drunk all the time. Being drunk when the detectives came was bad; thankfully they hadn’t found her fake id. Assumed the liquor store clerk hadn’t checked id and just gave her what she paid for.

Liz wouldn’t bring more attention to her by being the happy loopy drunk girl. She decided to do her drinking at night when there was little chance of running into anyone or going anywhere. Wasn’t full proof but it kept one piece of gossip out of the cities mouths.

She backed out of the parking lot where her parent’s always parked their vehicles and made her way back to the motel. When she got back she’d have to call the detectives and ask them when Mom and Dad’s—bodies would be released. She’d have to start planning the funeral. She could hardly wait, she thought sarcastically.

TBC

Coming Up: Liz gets an unexpected visitor. Liz with the help of her visitor make funeral arrangements.

Maiqu
Detzer84 (x2)
orphyfets
AvalonRose
singerchic4

Thank you so much for the reviews. Hope everyone enjoys this chapter.

Song for Ch 10: It Doesn’t Matter by Allison Kraus. This was chosen mostly for the melody but the lyrics fit in spots too.

A.N. This chapter would have been out sooner but I got hit with ideas for an original story and that took priority. The chapter is kind a short but maybe the next one will be longer.

Chapter 10

In a motel room just on the outskirts of Roswell, New Mexico a hunter was finishing dressing up in a costume that would make it easier to get answers for the questions he asked. His ID, which lay on the table, read Pastor Martin Ashby but it was a fake, as was everything else he used to add believability to his character.

After he first got to town he checked out past local newspapers at the library. Turned out there were ten more similar murders around Roswell over the last year and a half. The cops had linked only three of them together while the other seven were classified as separate unsolved crimes. It took a trained demon hunter to find the similarities of each murder.

He straightened his white collar once more and put his ID in the pocket of his black slacks. Most people didn’t question a man of the cloth but occasionally there were those few who did and he couldn’t be caught without identification. He left the motel room and walked to his car parked outside.

~*~*~

In her motel room Liz sat in an uncomfortable chair staring at the half empty bottle of whiskey from last night. She’d finish the rest tonight, maybe even start on another bottle.

It was a bit before four o’clock in the afternoon and she hadn’t moved from her spot at the table since she got back. She called the number the detectives gave her and asked about when her parent’s bodies would be released to her so she could bury them.

After they gave her the run around, transferring her to different people and when she finally got the correct person she was placed on hold for close to twenty minutes, they informed her that they hadn’t collected all the physical evidence from their bodies. Because of that their bodies probably wouldn’t be released for a few months.

Frustrated and angry she hung up on the man and pushed the phone away from her. Since then she’d stared out the window and watched as the sun slid across the sky with each passing hour. An open packet of saltine crackers was next to the bottle of booze. Her stomach couldn’t take a variety of food right then, saltines were the only thing staying down in her stomach.

Liz took another cracker out and nibbled on it, not caring in the least about the crumbs falling on her shirt and lap. While she sat there in silence she figured she’d have a memorial service for her parents. Nothing was stopping her from doing that. She wasn’t sure what it would entail but she knew she wanted it done soon.

As much as it hurt to think it Roswell wasn’t her home anymore. There were too many memories of her parents who had died, friends who had left her, and the reality of strangers who wouldn’t stop talking about her and staring at her wondering if she went schizoid and butchered her Mom and Dad. She didn’t want to stay any longer than she had to in this town.

~*~*~

Amy Deluca pulled up to the motel Jose told her Liz was residing in during this whole mess. She had heard about the murders of Jeff and Nancy Parker on the radio. It took her a little while to decide on whether she’d make the trip back to Roswell.

She didn’t want to stop looking for Maria, not for a single second. Although she didn’t have any leads as to where Maria went she couldn’t give up. There had been so many false leads, especially in the beginning, that she nearly threw up her hands in frustration and quit. What stopped her was a small sliver of hope that refused to die; she could never give up on finding her daughter.

When she heard the news Amy had only been a few towns over, the radio announcers repeated the story that had to have been on countless news programs. Then during the broadcast the announcers had taken callers some who were sympathetic to Liz and others who thought she killed her parent’s.

She was shocked that more tragedy had befallen not only the teenager Maria had been best friends with but also the town of Roswell. Deciding to return to Roswell had been an internal battle with her emotions. On the one hand Maria was out there somewhere; even one day not searching was one day that she couldn’t get back. However she saw Liz as a second daughter, she and Maria had been friends for so long that Amy had come to look at her in a motherly fashion. If the situation were reversed she knew…or hoped that Jeff and Nancy would come back for Maria if only for a day to let her know they were there for her.

Having only just arrived in Roswell she went to the Crashdown first but saw that no one was there. Then she went to Jose’s home, he greeted her warmly, asked her if she knew what happened, then told her where Liz was hiding out. After a brief talk with Jose she left and went straight to the motel Liz resided in.

Amy climbed the steps to the second floor. Liz was definitely still there, she saw Jeff’s truck near the stairs when she pulled into the parking lot. Shoving her car keys in her pockets she knocked on the door and waited for the girl inside to answer.

~*~*~

The sharp rap to her left jolted her out of her stupor. Liz coughed to clear her dry throat and yelled out. “Just a minute.” She gathered the liquor and hid it in a drawer next to the bed. Securing it she made her way to the door.

Who the hell could be bothering her at that time in the afternoon? Jose said he wouldn’t be able to come by till maybe tomorrow and the detectives were probably leaving her alone right now long enough so she’d to do something stupid. Maybe go on a shopping spree with the millions of dollars her parent’s had or even clean out her parent’s home of expensive jewelry or electronics.

If that were the case they’d be in for a big surprise. Not only did her parent’s not have life insurance policies or bundles of money in the bank, the only things she took from the house were sentimental things and her laptop. Some of her mother’s most expensive pieces were still in her jewelry box at home.

Liz unlocked the door and opened it. To say she was surprised at who stood in front of her was an understatement. “Amy?” She had stopped calling Maria’s mom Ms. Deluca a long time ago.

“Hi Liz, I figured you could use some company right about now?” Amy didn’t move forward and kept her gaze locked on the fragile girl in front of her.

She shook her head, “No—I’m fine.”

“Try that again with a little more believability.” She then stepped into the room. “It’ll be ok. Tell me what you need.”

Tears quickly built in Liz’s eyes until they were brimming over and falling down her cheeks. “I need my parents.” She brought her hands up to her face and cried so hard her entire body shook with tremors.

The mother wrapped her arms around the girl whose emotions flooded out forcefully pass the wall Liz built up during these few days. Amy held her tightly in the open entryway and just let her cry. Sometimes you needed to let someone else handle things and now that she was there she’d do whatever she could to help Liz. The same thing she hoped someone would do for Maria if she ever lost her parent.

TBC

A.N. The identity of the hunter is finally revealed.

Chapter 11

July 12; 11:00 a.m.

Amy Deluca sat in a chair watching Liz sleep away the day. Over the last three days the girl went through extremes. On the tenth she built up the wall again and refused to break. Liz practically ignored Amy the entire time she was there only answering questions that had a one or two word response.

The next day, the eleventh, she awoke from a nightmare in sweats and curled up in a little ball on the bed crying her heart out. It broke Amy’s heart to see the once vivacious and emotionally strong girl crumble. Today she didn’t know what to expect from Liz.

She began to straighten up the motel room when two detectives came to the door. They pounded on the door so loudly Amy was afraid it would wake Liz up.

Angry she pulled open the door and stared them down. “Is it too much to ask that you keep your pounding to a minimum?”

Taken aback the male apologized. “We’re sorry. Is Elizabeth Parker here?”

“Of course she is but who are you and why do you want to talk to her?” Amy whispered trying her hardest to keep Liz asleep; it was the best thing for her right now.

“I’m Detective Malone; this is my partner Detective Redding. We have her parent’s effects, things they had on them when they were killed. We’re here to give them to her.” Malone said.

“I’m sure she’d like them back. I’ll make sure she gets them.” She held out her hand for the plastic bags full of the Parker’s items.

Malone shook her head. “We’d really like to give them to her ourselves.”

“That’s not going to happen. She’s sleeping and I don’t want her to be disturbed. Liz has been through a lot. I’m a family friend; my name is Amy Deluca I’ll make sure she gets these.” She never dropped her hand held out to take the bag.

Not seeing any other choice Redding handed her the plastic see through Ziploc bag. “We’ll be in touch.”

“I’m sure you will be.” Amy shut the door in their faces and gently set the bag on the table near the window.

Liz opened her eyes as the door closed. “What did they want?” She questioned.

Amy pointed to the table. “To bring you your parent’s things. It’s what they were wearing when they were killed.”

Wincing Liz rose from the bed and walked over to the table. She didn’t have the bandage around her ankle anymore; it felt healed enough to walk without it. “About time they brought this over.”

“I’m sure they had to go through the items and make sure they wouldn’t need them before releasing it to you.” Amy reasoned.

The teen chuckled low in her throat. “Or they still think I’m a suspect and didn’t want to give me Mom and Dad’s things.”

“Wait…they consider you a suspect?” Amy asked. She knew some of the locals thought Liz did it but she wasn’t aware the police were thinking along that same train of thought.

“Yep. They think I killed them and tore their flesh off and I threw myself down the stairs to throw suspicions off me. Even if it were true it clearly didn’t work.” Liz laid her palm flat against the clear plastic bag. “The fact that in the event of my parent’s deaths everything goes to me didn’t exactly prove my innocence to them either.”

“Well that’s ridiculous.” Amy argued, not with Liz but with the idea that she had anything to do with Nancy and Jeff’s murders.

“No kidding.” She fingered the plastic bag but didn’t open it. Breathing in deeply she reached for the hotel phone. “I have to start calling people for the memorial.” Amy set up the time and date for the memorial but neither she nor Amy had yet to call family and friends to attend.

“It’s mostly taken care of.” The older woman told her. “Your address book was out so I called people from your family and the friends I knew about. If there’s anyone else you want me to notify I’ll happily do that for you.”

“Thanks.” Liz whispered. It was weird—standing back and letting Amy handle the things she had been resigned to doing alone. “Umm, I’m going to take a shower.” Within moments she was behind the closed door and away from Amy’s sympathetic gaze.

~*~*~

The hunter stopped his car in front of the Crashdown Café. He knew, from overhearing people talking, that the daughter of Jeff and Nancy Parker wasn’t staying there. Sometime after midnight he’d go in and take a look around but first he would talk to people around the business and find out if they heard or saw something the night the Parker’s were killed.

Before he set off to look for clues and talk to some of the people in the town however he grabbed a copy of the local paper. A few pages in there was a memorial announcement for the Parker’s. Since the bodies wouldn’t be released till they gathered all the evidence the daughter couldn’t give them a funeral.

The memorial service would be the perfect opportunity to talk to the daughter and other people from the alien themed town. Exiting the vehicle he jogged to a business next door.

Entering the air-conditioned establishment he walked up to the counter and introduced himself…his alias anyway. “Hi, I’m Pastor Martin Ashby. I was curious as to the whereabouts of Elizabeth Parker.”

“Nice to meet you Pastor. I’m Ronald Newman.” Ronald shook his hand. “I’m sure you’ve heard about what happened over there right?”

“Yes, that’s why I’d like to speak with Elizabeth, let her know that there are people she can turn to for help.” He spoke sincerely.

“That’s awfully kind of you. Unfortunately I have no idea where she’s laying her head. That girl’s been off the radar since her folks were killed. Saw her once a couple days ago but that was it.”

“Do you know of anyone that I can talk to that might know where she’s staying?” He questioned.

“Normally I’d point you to her friends but Liz doesn’t exactly have many anymore.” Ronald turned toward a customer and rang up her items.

Confused the hunter asked. “What do you mean?”

The teen girl waiting for a total faced him, “Meaning all her friends up and ditched her. Karma at its best.” When he nodded at her she continued. “She and I use to be friends. We’d hang out sometimes, eat together at lunch, you know normal friends stuff. Then Liz becomes friends with Michael Guerin, Max and Isabel Evans suddenly I and a few other people weren’t good enough to hang out with anymore.”

“Do you know what caused this change?” While he had no idea what, if any, importance the issue had it couldn’t hurt to learn more.

The girl shrugged her shoulders. “No idea. At first not much changed, there were a couple times she was busy but nothing too drastic. It didn’t take long before the excuse of ‘I have something else to do’ clearly meant ‘I don’t want to hang out with you anymore and why can’t you take the hint’. A couple months ago her new and the few old friends she kept left Roswell…didn’t even tell her they were leaving.” The girl paid and left the store.

Ronald gave his full attention back to the Pastor. “Basically if you’re looking for her friends you’ll have a hard time finding them. However you might want to try Jose Hernandez, he’s stopped by the Crashdown a couple times since the murders and is close to Liz. He’d probably know where she is.”

The hunter held out his hand and shook Ronald’s. “Well thank you for the help sir.”

“Not a problem.” Ronald waved as he left the store.

He walked to his car, got in, and started the engine. Instead of leaving he pulled into the back parking lot of the Crashdown. While he knew he should wait to break in and take a look around he couldn’t do much until he spoke with Elizabeth Parker. Since it was quite likely she saw who attacked her parents.

The reports said she was thrown down the stairs and she had a little bit of her parent’s blood on her clothes and the bottom of her shoes. To cause the kind of damage he saw at the morgue it had to be a supernatural being but what he didn’t know.

While he hoped it would be vampires the amount of damage done to the Parker’s bodies was far too much for any vampire kill. He also found a hair imbedded in a wound that he took as evidence. He called in a hunter contact of his and sent the hair sample to him.

Although it wasn’t vampires he wouldn’t stop working the case. Every supernatural being needed to be put down and he was just the man to do it.

His phone vibrated in his pocket. He pulled it out and put it to his ear. “Hello?” He greeted.

“Hey Gordon. It’s Eric.”

“Did you get the hair sample?”

“Yes I did. You were right it’s not vampires.” He confirmed.

“Then what is it?”

“Werewolf.”

TBC

Note: So sorry about how long it took to get this part out. The next section of Ch 12 should be out in about a month, I already have a quarter or a third of it written. Hope everyone enjoys.

Chapter 12 A

July 15; 8:00 a.m.

Liz stared at herself in the mirror outside the bathroom. As she buttoned up her white blouse her hands shook. Today was the day of Mom and Dad’s memorial.

Ever since Amy came back Liz had been a roller coaster of emotions. Before Amy came she’d been depressed, angry, sometimes numb or drunk. However having Amy there made her feel safe enough to let go of some of the emotions that she had bottled up. She cried more in these last few days then she had the first couple days after her parent’s death.

Amy called Sean Deluca; yesterday, after he arrived, he got the available room next to hers. Liz wasn’t sure why Amy called Sean but she was grateful to have another person there to support her.

She continued to stare at her reflection. Her face looked like she got severely sunburned, all red and sore from crying. She would have laughed if she weren’t so sad. At least her bloodshot red eyes matched her face.

Standing back from the mirror she straightened her black suit jacket and smoothed out the matching black knee length skirt. In her mind she could almost hear Dad tell her how pretty she looked and she could almost feel Mom wrap a supportive arm around her shoulders and tell her that a girl as a pretty as her shouldn’t be crying so much.

Slowly with carefully thought out movements she put on a pair of her mother’s favorite earrings. Feeling for the holes in her ears she pushed the metal part through and clasped it tight. A memory came flooding to the surface as she put the second earring in. Mom had taken her and Maria to get their ears pierced. The two girls had been ten and Amy had given the ok to Mom to have Maria go as well. Liz had watched her mother like a hawk, if Mom had even flinched once she wouldn’t have gotten her ears pierced that afternoon.

Tears well up but she brushed them away quickly. She didn’t want to cry anymore.

Coughing passed the lump in her throat she reached for the bag that the police sent over with her parent’s things, the items they wore during their murder…or at least the items they could get the blood out of. Two days ago she purchased a nice 14 ct. gold chain necklace. It cost a pretty penny, even with the discount that was going that day at the jewelry store but in the end it was worth it. She wasn’t going to put her parent’s wedding bands on some cheap necklace.

Amy had been with her when she purchased it. Maria’s Mom asked if it was a good idea to be spending that kind of money, especially when the police were looking for any reason to pin the murders on her.

She only shrugged and told Amy that she didn’t care what they thought. The money didn’t come out of any life insurance policies because Mom and Dad didn’t have life insurance. The money came out of her account; the money was a portion of what she had saved over the years of working in the Crashdown, with Congress Woman Whittaker, and birthday money.

So there she was with an expensive necklace lying in front of her on the counter and her parent’s wedding rings in a Ziploc™ bag. She opened the bag and reached in grabbing the rings.

As her fingertips touched the cool metal flashes assaulted her mind. She fell to her knees holding onto the counter tightly with one hand praying for the vision to stop but not having the sense of mind to let go of her parent’s rings. The creature she saw before on that fateful night stood close to her height, it seemed wrong, she wasn’t that tall…in the vision she could hear her mother’s voice yell as she became immersed in the nightmare.

“Nancy no, stay back—“ The monster in front of me growled and snapped.

“Jeff!” Nancy screamed.

Before I could grab an object that could become a weapon the powerful body slammed me to the ground. My shout of pain and surprise was cut off and changed to a gurgle by large jaws quickly clamping around my neck. I feel the sizable teeth sink into my flesh like butter; I feel the warm wetness of my blood and the monsters saliva.

Pain stabbed through my body its claws dug into my chest while it silenced me.

I could hear Nancy screaming. Screaming so loud. I try to tell her to run but all that escapes is a moist, garbled sound of me trying to breathe.

“Liz!”

“Liz!”

I feel someone—

“LIZ!”

Her vision cleared. The presence in front of her held her hand, the same hand that had touched the rings. “Amy?” She gasped out.

“Yes honey it’s me.” Amy had a large bath towel wrapped around her middle as she kneeled on the floor next to Liz. “What happened? Are you ok?”

She had been in her father’s mind as that thing killed him. She pushed back her dark brunette hair and gripped it tightly at the back of her head. It didn’t happen until she touched the rings. Why did get visions when she touched certain items or people but not others.

The blood, she felt it slide down her neck and pool beneath her head. She felt the hot lance of pain as the teeth sliced through her flesh. She almost grabbed at her neck to make sure she was still physically in tact.

Currently her hand was being squeezed and held onto by Amy but she had yet to receive a flash or vision. What was happening to her? Was this alien…or was it something else?

Amy continued to stare at her oddly but with concern. What could she tell her, what should she tell her?

“I just…” Liz took a deep breath but exhaled it with difficulty. She swallowed trying to block out the picture and the experience she just went through. “I was remembering moments with Mom and Dad and it was too much.” Her breath hitched.

“Oh honey.” Amy gathered the shivering girl in her arms and rubbed her back. “It’ll be ok. I know it doesn’t seem like it now but in the future you’ll be able to remember moments with your parent’s without it being painful. It takes time though.”

Amy helped her off the floor and waited till she was steady enough to stand on her own. “I’ll be ok. Sorry I broke down like that.” She apologized.

“It’s ok. Don’t worry about that. Break down if you need too.” Amy comforted. “Are you going to be all right while I get dressed in the bathroom?”

Liz nodded quickly but didn’t say anything. With one more squeeze of her hand Amy gathered her clothes and disappeared into the bathroom.

As soon as the door clicked shut, Liz fell back down onto her knees fighting the nausea bubbling in her stomach. She covered her mouth and kept the scream that was lodged in her throat from escaping.

Slowly she stood back up and leaned against the counter. “Relax. Breathe Liz.” She spoke to her reflection. “You’re going to be ok.” She’d deal with the visions later. Right now she had Mom and Dad’s memorial; she’d deal with the vision afterward.

A knock at her hotel door snapped her out of her self encouragement. One more deep breath and she pushed away from the counter.

She had a feeling she knew who was on the other side of the door. Two people that she really didn’t want to see but had no choice. They were family after all. She wished her favorite Aunt had been able to come. Aunt Tricia wouldn’t be able to reach Roswell in time for the memorial. She was in Egypt and hadn’t gotten the message that Jeff and Nancy had died until yesterday. Right now she was probably on a plane headed back but she wouldn’t make the memorial.

However, much to Liz’s chagrin, her other Aunt, Aunt Ruth and her daughter Melissa were able to come. Mom’s sister who they hadn’t spoken to in years for many reasons was of course able to come. Ruth didn’t give a damn about Mom; Liz was sure the only reason why she and her daughter were there was to find out if they got anything in the will. They would be deeply disappointed at the reading of the will today.

With little emotion she opened her hotel room door. Standing on the other side was a rail thin woman, long red hair so similar to Mom’s, wearing a long black dress that covered her nearly head to toe. Ruth stared at her with artificial sweetness.

“Liz.” Ruth clasped a hand over her black heart in a show of theatrics. “It’s horrible. Simply horrible. Nancy was so wonderful.” Her voice, although soft and seemingly caring, grated on her last nerve. This was the woman that tried to sink her claws into Dad shortly before he and Mom started going out. Once Dad saw Mom he didn’t want anyone else but old Ruthy couldn’t stand that and went to great lengths to break them up.

Of course a few years later Ruth feigned an apology, saying that she was only worried about her and Jeff’s bad past, but Mom never completely forgave her sister. Even as a child Liz could tell there was tension between the two whenever Aunt Ruth visited. Not long before she turned ten Mom and Ruth had a huge argument. What, she didn’t know but whatever the argument was they hadn’t spoken to each other since.

Standing next to her horrible mother was her slightly younger cousin, Melissa. Melissa tended to take after Ruth. “Hello Liz.” A smirk briefly showed but as if she realized that a smirk wasn’t proper she quickly got rid of it.

She skipped over greeting them. “I thought we were meeting at the memorial.” Although they had been invited to the memorial that didn’t mean she wanted to spend any more time with them than necessary. She still hadn’t moved away from the door, not letting the two vultures in.

“Yes, that was the plan. But this is such a sad occasion that I hoped we would be able to talk. Both Nancy and Jeff were very dear to me. We had a falling out but I had hoped to fix that.” Ruth explained.

Liz heard loud and clear what Ruth didn’t say. While her parent’s weren’t rich by any stretch of the imagination they did have some valuable items. Items that when Grandma Marilyn died she gave to Mom, items that Ruth thought would now go to her. In order to have a higher chance of getting those valuables Ruth had to play nice with her sister’s daughter.

“Fine.” She stood aside and let her Aunt and cousin into the hotel room. Just because she was allowing them in and letting them say what they wanted to didn’t mean anything. It would only cause a larger headache then the one she currently had to argue with them. Let the fun begin.

TBC

Next in Ch 12 B: Liz's Aunt faces off against Amy Deluca. Jeff and Nancy's memorial. The reading of the Parker's will.

Coming Up in Ch 12 C: Liz asks a former friend for a favor. Liz leaves Roswell.

Coming Up in later chapters: Liz on the road. Will she get her act together or fall further down the rabbit hole?

AvalonRose
pandas2001
barbara87413
Maiqu
maipigen
Egyptian_Kiss

Thank you everyone for the wonderful feedback. I love reading it.

Note: Sorry this took a little longer than I anticipated to get out. I was having a lot of trouble with the memorial section. Also I don’t know what goes on at a will reading besides the reading of the will and I don’t know the standard way it’s done so if how I wrote it isn’t correct just brush it off as writer’s prerogative.

Chapter 12 B

Liz closed the door behind them and sat at the chair next to the window. Her injuries over the last couple days had healed considerably. She still had pain in her ribs and her wrist was still broken but the physical pain had lessened somewhat.

Aunt Ruth sniffed delicately as she took in the room her niece was staying in. “Well…this is a quaint little room.”

She rolled her eyes. No the room wasn’t Caesar’s Palace but it wasn’t a bad room. It was cheap and it fit her needs which sounded damn good from where she sat. Liz clasped her hands over her stomach. “Having a five star room wasn’t exactly on my priority list. It has a bed, it has a bathroom…it even has a mini-fridge, really I’m set.”

“Of course dear. I didn’t mean anything by it.” Ruth tried to backtrack.

“Yes you did.” Liz stared straight at her until her Aunt dropped her gaze. Yea, she had hoped she’d be able to feign a little politeness to her relatives but apparently that was too difficult for her to do.

Melissa opened her mouth to say something but the door to bathroom opening stopped her.

“Liz? Is everything alright I heard voices.” Amy left the room and saw two extra people in the room. “Hello. Who are you?”

“Well, I’m Liz’s Aunt. Ruth Currie and this is my daughter Melissa Currie. And who are you?”

“Amy Deluca. Close friend of the family’s.” She didn’t offer her hand in greeting.

“Well, I’ve never heard of you but I appreciate you taking care of my darling niece but her family’s here now. We’ll see you at the memorial.”

Amy nodded but didn’t move from her spot. “You might not have heard of me but I’ve heard of you.”

Liz felt a smile creeping onto her lips. Amy against Ruth, she knew who she’d place her bets on. Her friend’s mother could clearly see what Aunt Ruth was trying to do. A hit on the head would have been a subtler approach.

Amy crossed her arms and squared off against the thin woman. “See I know about you and the fallout between you and Liz’s mother. I know about how you wanted Jeff all to yourself. I know that Jeff wouldn’t give you the time of day.” She glared at the woman in front of her, sizing her up and finding her unimpressive. “That young woman over there is like my own child. I’ve seen that girl grow up right along side mine. I’m family. You’re a spiteful bitch that’s sniffing around because you want something. Get out of this hotel room before I throw you out.”

Liz lowered her head and her body shook. Aunt Ruth noticed and misinterpreted her motions.

“See what you’ve done? That girl is on the verge of an emotional breakdown and you just made it worse. Clearly Liz needs us. Not you.”

Amy glanced at Liz who had straightened her spine and was now fighting the giggles that were trying to erupt from her chest. “Yea? I’d look at her again.”

Ruth turned and saw the glee clearly.

“Oh my God.” Liz waved a hand in front of her face do her best but failing miserably to dry her tears of utter joy. “I haven’t enjoyed anything that much in days.”

“Stop laughing.” Melissa stomped her foot on the carpet.

“Oh yea that will make me stop.” Liz laughed so hard she snorted which only made her break down in another round of giggles. It hurt her ribs just a smidge but it felt so good to be merry again. She would hold onto the feeling for as long as she possibly could.

In a huff Ruth grabbed Melissa’s arm and dragged her out the hotel room. Frankly Liz was surprised she hadn’t snapped back with some mean, rude comment.

Amy smirked. “Well, it’s nice to see you laugh again.”

Still chuckling a little Liz nodded. “It felt good to laugh again.” She didn’t tell Amy that it’s unlikely to happen much more. After the reading of the will, which was scheduled soon after the memorial, she was leaving Roswell. She didn’t want to be in this town anymore, it was too painful.

“Ready to go sweetie?” Amy picked up her clutch and smoothed her dress.

Liz tilted her head in a half-hearted way. “As ready as I’ll ever be.” She whispered as she stood, she grabbed her bag and took one last look around the hotel room. Besides a couple things she’d grab at the hotel and the Crashdown after the will reading everything else she brought to the hotel was packed away in the back of Dad’s truck. She was really leaving and nothing would change her mind.

~*~*~*~

Memorial

“Looks like everyone’s here already.” Sean quietly told Liz.

She leaned against Amy’s car and stared out into the park where the memorial service was being held. “Looks like.” Ruth and Melissa were there, of course, as were friends of her parents, and various people who just wanted to pay their respects.

“Are you ready sweetie?” Amy gently questioned.

No. “Yes.” Sean placed a hand on the small of her back and helped her take that first step forward.

All eyes were on her as she walked to the front where she, Amy, and Sean would be sitting. She barely noticed their stares. Barely heard their whispered questions or statements to each other.

Once they reached the three empty chairs, the Father of the church her family went too stepped forward and took her hand. Not a single flash was given. For that Liz was grateful.

“On behalf of me and the church, we are very sorry for your loss Miss. Parker.” He squeezed her hand gently in condolence.

She nodded and said, “Thank you.” What more could be said?

With that he released her hand. Sean again pressed lightly on her lower back; at any other time she might think he was staking his claim on her. Both Max and Kyle would put their hands on her back when they were dating her, saying ‘this girl is mine’. It didn’t bother her, she sure she had ways of telling the female population that Kyle or Max were hers too. Hmm, she hadn’t thought about them or anybody else for their group in a surprisingly long time…or maybe it just felt like a long time.

The last time she remembered thinking about any of them for a significant amount of time was the day before her parent’s murder. It wasn’t really that long ago—it seemed like it though. The only person she had more than a passing thought about was Maria and that was only because Amy was there.

When she broke out of her thoughts, she was already seated in the middle of Amy and Sean and the priest was already half way done with the memorial. He talked for another twenty minutes. While she paid attention for those last twenty minutes she would never be able to remember what was said, even when her grief became less than it was now she still wouldn’t remember the sweet words that were said about her parents. She knew they were sweet because Amy had an expression of serenity and utter agreement.

Before long Father Clark finished and people began to come up to Liz and offer condolences. She shook hands with everybody who came. Some she received flashes from but most were, thankfully, flash free. She didn’t think too hard on why that was or even what she saw in those brief flashes.

Then a man came up to her that, one she had never seen before. Normally that wouldn’t catch her attention but in a sea of familiar faces this stranger stood out.

“Miss Parker?” The man held out his hand, he wore a priest’s outfit and came across as welcoming and sincere but there was something behind his eyes that sent a shiver down her spine.

“Yes?” Liz shook his hand in return. Instantly she was flooded with the image of blood and severed heads. As soon as she could she let go.

“I’m Pastor Martin Ashby.”

Liz nodded but didn’t say anything. What was there to say? It wasn’t exactly nice to meet him, not after the images she saw. But it’s not as if she could mention, hey, when I shook your hand I saw you cutting heads off of people and washing off the blood in the shower? Somehow she didn’t think that’d go over too well.

“I’ve been trying to get a hold of you for a couple days now. I’d only been in town for a week when I heard about the tragedy. I want to offer my sincerest sympathies and I was hoping you’d consider talking with me, I’d be willing to help you through this awful time.”

Liz swallowed. That would require being alone with him and that was something she would never do. She closed her eyes and shook her head. “That’s incredibly nice of you but if I need to talk to someone I already have a therapist and I’m not even talking to her right now so I won’t be talking to you.”

She saw a brief glimpse of what lay beneath the man’s carefully constructed mask but it was covered quickly. “Well, if you ever need anything, please don’t hesitate to call this number.” He pulled out a pad of paper and wrote down a number.

Again Liz nodded in agreement, although she had intention of calling him, ever.

“We’ve got to go Liz; the will reading is in a half hour.” Amy mentioned.

“Right.” Thank you Amy. “It was nice to meet you.” Although not really. The trio left the Pastor in the park.

~*~*~*~

Lawyer’s Office/Will reading

Liz sat with her two relatives in the office of Adam Jones, attorney at law. He would be reading the will to them. Amy and Sean waited outside in the hall, since they weren’t a part of the will or family they weren’t allowed in the room.

“It’s good to see you again Miss Parker. It’s a shame it had to be under these circumstances of course.” Mr. Jones shook her hand and amazingly she didn’t get a flash from him.

She didn’t say a word, only nodded in agreement. Mr. Jones introduced himself to her Aunt and cousin and shook their hands as well.

“Ok, why don’t we get to the reason you’re here.” He moved behind his desk to the filing cabinet and pulled out her parent’s file.

Out of the corner of her eye she could practically see the drool coming out of her Aunt’s mouth. A part of her wanted to smack the anticipation right off her face, her parents were dead and all Ruth could think of was getting her hands on items that would never be hers.

“All right.” Mr. Jones opened the file and began to read the first few standard paragraphs. A few minutes later he began to read off who got what. “Now Liz although this is a joint will, your parents do have separate sections for certain things.”

Liz nodded. “Ok.” She knew that already. There wasn’t much that she didn’t know about their will. She knew Aunt Tricia, Dad’s sister, got some things. Amazingly so did Aunt Ruth—although she wouldn’t be too thrilled with what she got.

“Jeffrey Elijah Parker leaves to his sister, Tricia Leigh Parker: Their father’s journals, which are kept in the safety deposit box. Their parent’s wedding rings. His action figure collection…”

He’s cut off by Liz joyous laugh. “She’s going to love that.” She told him sincerely. Aunt Tricia always teased Dad about the action figure’s that he started collecting at as a teen. It would warm her heart to have that piece of her brother.

“Yes, Jeff mentioned that she would get a kick out of that.” He commented then continued naming a few more items that would go to Tricia. “Next Nancy Louise Parker leaves to her sister, Ruth Jane Currie—“

Liz saw Ruth stand up a little straighter, it was her turn. “Good, I’m glad she put me in there. After all I’ve done for her I deserve something.” Ruth snorted out.

Mr. Jones stumbled in his words for a moment. He could hardly believe the utter lack of tact on the part of his former client’s sister. Unfortunately she wasn’t the first relative to only care about things and money, what’s even sadder was that she wouldn’t be the last either.

“Y-Yes.” He slowly let out. “As I was saying. Ruth Jane Currie receives, five thousand dollars and a t-shirt. If you try to sue for more than what this will grants you will receive nothing. No money, but you can keep the t-shirt.” He pulled out a package from his desk and handed it to her.

Angrily Ruth rips open the package and pulls out the article of clothing inside. She opened up the shirt and shrieked with fury at what was printed on the front. She shot up out of her chair. “All I get is a lousy five thousand dollars and-and this piece of shit shirt? This is an outrage.”

“Nancy wanted to make sure you got just enough so no one could say that you were cheated and didn’t get anything. However she also wanted to make sure that you didn’t get anything of importance.” Mr. Jones explained coolly.

“And what about their precious daughter. What does she get?” Ruth fumed.

Mr. Jones looked directly into Liz’s eyes and spoke with warmth. “Everything else. Elizabeth Claudia Parker gets the Crashdown, the cars, the home above the Crashdown. She gets all the items in the home and all the items, except what has been previously mentioned, in the safety deposit box. She gets the rest of the money.”

Melissa stood up next to her mother and stared down at the attorney. “Even the items that were my grandmother’s. Those are valuable pieces that should go to my mother and me.”

Liz stayed seated and rested her head against her palm. She had expected this kind of outburst from the both of them. Just because she expected it though didn’t mean she was ok with it but to argue with them would only make the production larger and louder. So she opted to stay quiet and let the lawyer handle it.

“Those items were given to Nancy. From what was mentioned you,” He indicated to Ruth, “got the other half of those items, which you sold for a pretty penny if I’m not mistaken.”

Ruth at least had enough shame to lower her gaze.

“The items that Nancy has were for her to with what she wanted. She’s giving them to Elizabeth. If she wants to sell them she is welcome too. If she wants to keep them, again she is welcome too. If Elizabeth wants to throw them on the floor and tap dance on them she can. The point is, they are not yours.”

With an angry stomp of her foot, Ruth threw down the t-shirt and took the check of five thousand dollars the lawyer held out to her. Neither she nor Melissa spared one glance toward Liz as they stormed out.

Once the duo left Liz picked up the shirt. She opened it and read the phrase out loud. “My sister just died and all I got was this lousy t-shirt.”

Liz giggled. Mom had a mean streak in her.

TBC

KiaraAlexisKlay: I always pictured Nancy as having a hidden mean streak in her that can be brought out on special occasions. I know a couple of people (myself included) who collect action figures. Mostly my action figures are BtVS related though. Thanks for the feedback.

pandas2001: Thanks for the feedback. No, Pastor Ashby is not Dean. Dean (or his aliases) have not entered the fic yet. Pastor Ashby is Gordon, that's the alias he used in Ch 11 while talking to a store clerk near the Crashdown. As for what Gordon/Pastor Ashby will do next...at least one thing will be mentioned in 12 C and if what I plan to have him do turns out to be too long then it will be in 12 D.

ja.forster: No, the Pastor's/Priests aren't either of the Winchester's. Pastor Ashby is Gordon, he used that alias when talking to the store clerk in Ch 11. I really enjoyed writing Amy and Aunt Ruth's parts, they were fun to write.

barbara87413: Thanks for the feedback.

Maiqu: I had such trouble figuring out what Tricia should get from Jeff and I finally thought of my Dad and Uncle and my brother and me. If one of us (hopefully not for a very long time) passed away first the other would love to have certain collections the other collected over the decades because it would have so much sentimental value. So I felt that would perfect for Tricia and Jeff.

Egyptian_Kiss: Amy is definitely not the kind of person to just sit back and allow Ruth and Melissa to get away with their antics. I had so much writing that scene.

Thank you everyone for the amazing feedback. As mentioned above, Pastor Ashby is not Dean (or the other Winchester’s) Ashby is Gordon’s cover. He used it in Ch 11 when talking to the store clerk. Dean (and Sam) doesn’t come in (except for perhaps a brief scene in the next couple of chapters) until Liz meets a couple more people in the Supernatural universe and pulls herself together a little more. I know after which events the boys come into the story full-time I just don’t know which chapter that’ll be in yet.

Chapter 12 C

Park; 30 minutes earlier

Gordon or Pastor Ashby as he was going by in Roswell, watched with anger as the young Miss Parker left the Park where the memorial was held. If those other two weren’t with her he might have been able to…persuade more answers out of her.

There’s something—off about Miss Parker. He saw her flinch when she shook his hand. Wasn’t much but to a trained hunter like him it set off alarm bells. What was the seemingly innocent teen hiding?

As he was leaving the park his phone rang.

“Yes?” He spoke into the receiver.

“It’s Eric. I’ve found a couple more deaths all taking place during the full moon cycle and they’ve all been within a mile of the Crashdown Café.”

“How accurate is this information.” Gordon asked.

Eric snorted over the phone. “Very accurate. When have I ever given you wrong information?” He asked insulted.

“Never, but I always like to make sure.” Now he had a valid reason to check out Elizabeth Parker more closely. Was the daughter a werewolf? “Thanks for the info.” He hung up with saying goodbye. Let’s see if he couldn’t get the teen to talk.

~*~*~

Post Will Reading

Liz pulled up to a home she hadn’t been to or seen in two years. Slowing to a stop next to the curb she took a moment to go over what she’d say. There was a possibility—actually a certainty that who she was there to see wouldn’t do much more than slam the door in her face, but she couldn’t not try.

She left the cool safety of Dad’s truck, which she picked up from the hotel after the will reading, and made her way to the front door. Liz rapped her knuckles against the wooden door three times.

Earlier she told Amy and Sean of her plans to leave Roswell; they wished she wouldn’t but Amy more than anyone knew that Liz needed to get away, to find herself again. So Liz cleared out the rest of her things, paid for the hotel room and told Amy she was going to the Crashdown and if she could meet her there in an hour and a half. Amy agreed curious as to why she wanted to meet there.

As she stood there the door in front of her opened a bit. “Liz?” Shirley Matthews questioned, surprised to see her standing on her porch.

“Shirley.” She greeted simply.

Shirley quickly gathered her shock and surprise hiding it from her. She opened the front door completely but replaced the open space with her defensive body. “What do you want Liz?”

She appreciated her former friend not stating everything she wanted too. There was no doubt in her mind that she had much more to say but held her tongue. She stood strong against Shirley’s hurt. She knew she had no right to even ask what she was but that wouldn’t stop her. “I know I’m the last person you want to see.”

Shirley shrugged and tilted her head just so. “Then why are you here?”

“I need a favor.”

The teen in front of her laughed sarcastically. “Really? You need a favor?” Shirley crossed her arms and splayed her feet. “And what makes you think I’m going to help you with anything?”

“I’ll pay you.” Liz stated firmly. “I know I’m the last person you want around, I get it. But you are the only person I know who can draw worth a damn and draw fast.”

Shirley visually took in the desperate girl on her doorstep. Sadness seeped from every pore of Liz’s body. The tightened mouth and steely eyes showed a girl trying to be strong but the small tick at the corner of her mouth gave away how close she was to breaking.

She breathed in and looked toward the sky briefly. “This is about your parent’s isn’t it?”

Liz twitched but didn’t say a word. That was all Shirley needed to know, Liz wouldn’t be here if it had something to do with anything else.

“I don’t like you Liz. And I don’t want your money. You were a good friend and then out of the blue you went away and cared about nothing but yourself and your new group of friends.”

Liz swallowed hard. Yea, she knew exactly how much of a crappy friend she’d been to Shirley and a few others once the aliens came into her life. The alien’s problems took over and she allowed them too because she loved Max so much and she cared about what happened to him, Isabel, and Michael. And she knew that Shirley wouldn’t want to help her but she couldn’t accept that…

“Despite that though, I will help you.”

She looked at the red-head in shock. Shirley was going to help her? “Thank you.”

“I’m not doing it for you. I liked your parents. They were good people and I can’t imagine what you’re going through. So I’ll help you but this is the only favor I’ll do for you.” She told her leaving no room for misinterpretation.

“It’s the only favor I’ll need.”

Shirley backed away from the open door and with false gusto waved her hand to motion Liz in. “So what can I do for you? You mentioned my drawing skills.”

She nodded. “I need you to draw something that I saw. I’ll describe it—obviously.”

“Something?” Shirley questioned.

Damn, she caught the slip up. What she saw murder her parents was a something, not a someone. “Yea.” She didn’t bother denying the use of the word, Shirley would find out soon enough that what she was describing wasn’t exactly human.

Sighing Shirley grabbed her sketch pad and gestured for Liz to sit on the couch. “Let’s get started then.”

~*~*~

An hour later Liz finished with her description of the thing that killed her family. Shirley looked at what she drew. “Are you sure this is it?”

Liz took the drawing and studied it. “Yes.” Whatever it was had a human type body but it was larger than the average human, and its face was not exactly human either. The snout was more pronounced, its teeth had an underbite with sharp razor fangs, hair covered it face and hands. The hands claw like and insanely sharp. When it hit her she felt how easily her shirt and skin sliced beneath the sharpened fingernails.

“That doesn’t look like…” Shirley brought her out of her memory with her unfinished statement.

“I know.” She curtly snapped. “Thanks for your help.” She folded the drawing and put it in her purse.

She was half way to the door before Shirley shook off her shock at being dismissed so quickly and followed after her. “Whoa wait a minute. That’s it?”

She didn’t turn around till she reached the front door and had it open. “Yea, that’s pretty much it. I asked you for a favor. You delivered. Like I said, thank you. Our business is done.” Liz didn’t say anything more, she turned around, leaving the front door open and made a bee line for her truck.

As she pulled away from the curb she heard Shirley yell out ‘bitch’. Yea, that she was, she used Shirley and then left, at least she thanked her though. She didn’t want emotional attachments not to new friends and certain not to former ones. She didn’t want former friends to comfort her or feel pity for her. All she wanted now was to disappear and never come back.

TBC

End Note: Werewolves in this fic look a little different than the Supernatural werewolves.

Coming up in Ch 12 D: Liz goes back to the Crashdown, Amy is there and Liz asks her for a favor. Gordon is also waiting for Liz upstairs what will happen when she finds him there?

Thanks for all the great feedback. Here's the next chapter section. There will be a Ch 12 E as well.

Chapter 12 D

1:00 p.m.; Crashdown, Upstairs

It wasn’t difficult at all for Gordon to open the door to the Crashdown restaurant or the door to the upstairs apartment. For the last twenty minutes he had been painstakingly searching through the apartment and so far had found nothing of importance.

There was nothing that he could find, so far, that gave the impression that the Parker girl or her family had any knowledge of the supernatural world, let alone any proof they were werewolves themselves. Even in the girl’s room he couldn’t find anything, some things were missing though, if the collection of dust was any indication. She might have taken things that could point to paranormal knowledge. There was one more place to look through, and that was outside on her balcony.

Gordon opened up the window and stepped out. From his initial look, nothing seemed out of the ordinary, a lawn chair lay off to the side, with a blanket tossed haphazardly across the back of the lawn chair. Christmas lights were strewn along the edge of the balcony and over his head; although they weren’t on he could imagine what it would like out here at night.

As with many of his searches he started at the wall. More than once there had been something hidden behind a brick wall…or any wall for that matter. He ran his hands over the bumps and dips and cracks of the red brick. Nothing on the first wall, however the second wall he checked was a different story.

Feeling a loose brick he worked at it for a couple seconds till it came out. What lay behind there was, what could very well be, the jackpot mother load. Or it could be the boring thoughts and fantasies of a teenage girl. What lay behind that wall? A journal.

1:10 p.m.; Crashdown; Out Front

Liz pulled up to the back alley of the Crashdown and parked her father’s truck. This would be the last time, for a long time anyway, that she would be in this alley. The last time she would be going into the restaurant and upstairs to the place that had once been her home.

Sighing she opened her door and got out. Amy should be there momentarily. As soon as that thought crossed her mind two cars pulled up. One was Amy’s car, another was Jose’s. She saw him at the memorial but besides a hug when everyone was walking by they hadn’t had a chance to talk.

She walked out of the alley and to the front of the Crashdown waiting for the three people to leave the cars.

“I had to tell Jose you were leaving.” Amy told her.

She nodded, understanding why. Jose had been such a huge part of both her and Maria’s life for years, it would be wrong to not say goodbye to him. Especially knowing how great he had been to her these last few days.

“So you weren’t even going to tell me you were leavin’?” Jose teased gently.

She smiled sadly. “I was, on my way out of town. I would have stopped by.” And she would have. She had learned a very valuable lesson over the last couple months. People leave and people die. If there’s an opportunity to say goodbye or I care about you, take it. Never know if it’ll be the last chance to do so. She wished she had been able to tell her parents once more how much they mattered, none of the guilt or the pain would be lessened but at least she could say said more than ‘I’ll be home later Dad’. She usually said ‘I love you’ after a phone call to her parents, that night she didn’t.

Jose came closer and wrapped her in a hug. The collar of his light blue jean jacket brushed against her cheek. As he held her she made certain not to touch any part of his skin. She didn’t want to risk getting another weird flash and falling onto her knees. “If you need anything, don’t hesitate to call me. I don’t care where you are, I’ll be there in a hot second.”

She closed her eyes and savored the friendly embrace. It was what she needed at that moment. “Thank you Jose.”

Pulling back he looked up at the building behind them. “Are you going to need any help with anything? You can’t be healed enough to take what you want downstairs.”

Liz shrugged one shoulder. “I’ll be fine. I got most of what I needed when I came here a couple days ago.”

Jose gave her a half-smile, one more hug, and a wink. “Take care of yourself little one. I’d stay longer but the wife needs her chocolate.” With a wave he got back in his vehicle and left.

“Wait you already came back here?” Amy questioned.

“Yea. I needed some things and I didn’t really want to buy all new things so I came back here.” Liz explained.

“By yourself?” Sean finally spoke up from his spot next to Amy. “Liz you shouldn’t have—you shouldn’t have been alone, not for this.”

She pushed back the hair falling in front of her face and held it behind her with one fisted hand. “Maybe I shouldn’t have but I did. It wasn’t the best experience of my life but it’s something I had to do.” Honestly there hadn’t been anyone she could call.

At that point Amy and Sean hadn’t been in Roswell and Jose was taking care of his pregnant, about ready to pop, wife. There hadn’t been anyone to call.

Sean sighed. He clearly had more to say but decided to keep his mouth shut. “So why did you ask us to meet you here if it wasn’t to get some of the things from upstairs?”

“Since I’m not going to be in Roswell for a while I’m going to need some help with a few things.” She smoothed out her skirt, trying to keep her hands busy. “Mostly I just need you to sell some things for me.”

Amy shared a glance with Sean. She could see the gears turning in their heads, wondering why they were being asked to sell anything. They were wondering how long she planned to be away from Roswell.

“Ok. What things?” Amy asked.

“Mom’s car. I’m taking Dad’s truck and her car is just going to be sitting here for…” She paused, how long would she be gone? “Probably for a while.” She finished softly. “And even when I do come back I’ll be driving Dad’s truck so it’d just be a waste not to sell it.”

She pressed her lips together forming a thin line. There were two more major things that she wanted to sell…well wanted might not be the best word, needed might be better.

“Also if you could sell the Crashdown and the apartment above it. That would be a big help.” She spit out quickly.

“Ok, I’m calling a time out here.” Sean raised his hands into the classic ‘timeout’ signal. “Your Mom’s car I get—but the Crashdown? This is your home, your legacy, the business your parent’s worked so hard for. You’re just going to sell it?”

“It’s not my home.” She spoke through clenched teeth. It hurt to say those words but that didn’t mean they weren’t true. The Crashdown was not her home anymore. It never could be again.

“What are you talking about? Of course it’s your home. Just like Roswell will always be your home.” Sean argued. Amy put a hand on his forearm to try and get him to back off but he wouldn’t.

Liz breathed out a shaky pain filled chuckle. “No. It’s really not. Maybe Roswell will someday be my home again. But this place?” She pointed to the double doors that still had hundreds of hand prints on it from the many sick people in this town who wanted a glimpse at a murder scene. “This place will never be my home again. Every time I look at this place my heart is ripped out.”

“I know it’s that way now. But someday you’ll be able to look at it and smile and remember the good times here.” Sean tried to grab a hold of her arms but she scurried away not wanting his touch.

She shook her head negatively. Tears flooded her eyes threatening to fall at any second. “No. I won’t. My parent’s are what made this place a home. Their laughter and their smells and their jokes and their love. I can’t stand to be here and know that they were taken away from me here. Every time I’d walk passed those stairs and that door I’d see their mangled, bloody bodies. I’d see the thing that took them away.” Her voice became so quiet Sean and Amy almost couldn’t hear her words.

Sean stepped forward to take her in his arms but Liz backed up quickly not wanting his comfort. She wiped furiously at the tears that leaked out. Stop crying. She ordered herself.

“Liz—“ Sean started but she sliced her hand through the air cutting him off.

“I don’t care if you don’t approve of me selling this place.” She stared at him with contempt. “It’s not your decision. This is just a building to me now. The only thing it represents to me is pain.” She straightened her spine facing both Sean and Amy with a steely determination. “Amy if you don’t want to or can’t do this, then I need to make plans for someone else to. Either way this place is being sold.”

There was the option of her staying in town for a few more weeks to get everything sold but she couldn’t stand this town any more. Never mind the people who stared at her constantly curious if the rumors about her being her parent’s murderer was true. Everywhere she looked she thought of Mom and Dad, her friends who left her without telling her anything, and of course Alex, the best friend who died in a car crash…or committed suicide depending on who was telling the story that week.

“No, I’ll do it for you. I’ll also sell the car for you. What do you want me to do with the money and the left over things in the apartment?”

“Aunt Amy, you can’t let her…”

Amy shook her head at her nephew. “It’s not our decision. She’ll do it with or without our help.”

Liz tilted her head slightly in thanks for Amy understanding that this was inevitable. It’d happen just depended on who did it for her. “Storage unit. I’ve paid for a large one for a year. Anything that’s in the apartment just put in there. I’ve also called a couple moving companies.” She dug into her purse and handed Amy the list of numbers she compiled.

Amy took the piece of paper from Liz’s hand. “When did you have time to do this? I’ve been with you for almost every second of the day these last few days.”

“When you went to grab dinner last night I called and set things up. I’ll send you the papers you’ll need in the mail for the car and the building. Are you sure you can do this Amy?”

“Of course I can. Why do you ask?”

She swallowed past the lump in her throat. “You’re still looking for Maria. This will cut into that.” She twisted her hand around two of her fingers, nerves forcing her to move at least a little. Maria was a touchy subject to bring up with Amy. She had information that Amy desperately needed but she hadn’t the guts to tell her anything. All Amy knew was that no one told her they were going, which was the only true statement she could give her friend’s mother.

Amy licked her lips. “There hasn’t been any leads in nearly a month, I can take a few weeks and do this for you. I always have one of my two cell phones on and I check my e-mail everyday for information. Plus if Maria is going to show up anywhere it’d be Roswell. So I’ll be staying put for a little while.”

“Thank you Amy. I’ve also given you my cell number, so when you have money from the sale I’ll give you a P.O. Box number to send the check too.” She explained.

She turned with her eyes closed to face the building behind her. Preparing for the blow that would no doubt come once she set her gaze on it. A few seconds pass and she’s ready to look at the brick and glass in front of her. Slowly, aware of every millimeter, she opened her brown eyes and stared at the building in silence.

“Are you sure you don’t want company up there?” Amy asked her voice sounded so far away but Liz still heard her.

“No, I want to do this alone.” Like she’d have to do everything else as soon as she left this town. That wasn’t completely true; Amy was doing her a huge favor by selling the things she asked to be sold. Maybe she should tell Amy where Maria was, maybe then she wouldn’t be so worried.

As soon as she thought it though she tossed the notion aside. Not only would Amy still be worried about Maria, she’d be more worried about her daughter’s friend’s sanity. Amy would no doubt be wondering if Nancy and Jeff’s murder had finally made her go nuts. What rational thinking human being would believe that their daughter went to a distant planet instead of that daughter running away and still being on planet Earth?

“All right. Sean and I are going to go. I’ll start calling these numbers and schedule the earliest time the movers can come.” Amy stood behind Liz and put her hands on her shoulders. “If you need anything—call me.” Amy gently turned her around so they’d be face to face. “I mean it. You’re like another child to me. If you need me I’ll be there. Take care of yourself, Liz.” She gathered her in her embrace and hugged her close.

Although she hadn’t gotten a flash from Amy at all during her visit she didn’t want to risk getting one, so as with Jose she made sure not to touch any exposed skin. A moment later the two separated and Amy went back to her car to wait for Sean. Next Sean came up to her. “I think you’re making a big mistake.” He went to hug her, but as she had before she stepped back.

“I don’t care what you think.” She stated simply and turned her back on him.

“Fine.” He said. It didn’t take long for his footsteps to make their way to Amy’s car. In seconds they were gone down the road and she was alone on the sidewalk.

TBC

End Note: I went back and forth on Liz telling Amy about Maria and where she really is but I decided pretty much as I was writing this part up that I wouldn’t. It will definitely cause an issue between Amy and Liz later on though.

Next Chapter: Has Gordon read the journal he found? If he has what does that mean for Liz?

AvalonRose: Almost ready to go. The aliens will be coming back but it'll be a little while before that happens.
pandas2001: Liz is still a suspect, kind of. There will be a small section in the next chapter with the police talking briefly about Liz. Thanks for the feedback.
Pempees: Thank you so much. I love to hate Gordon too.
Maiqu: Thanks.
HypnotiqBlueEyes: Yes, the pod squad will be coming back but it's not going to be anytime soon. Thanks for the feedback.

Thank you everyone for the amazing feedback.

Note: First off, I am so sorry I didn’t post this in July. July was very busy for me and I rarely had time to sit down and write much of anything. Also this chapter was kind of hard to write. I knew exactly what I wanted to have happen but it just wasn’t coming together like I hoped.

This is unbeta’d but I’ve sent it to my beta today too, so when she’s done with it I’ll post the beta’d copy. I just wanted to get this posted because I said I’d have it posted in July but unfortunately that didn’t happen.

Gordon and Liz meet face to face in this one. Hope you all enjoy.

Chapter 12 E

1:20 p.m.

Staring at the Crashdown Liz contemplated what she was about to do. This would be the last time, for awhile, that she entered this building. It was odd. Selling the Crashdown and leaving Roswell was what she wanted, what she needed, but odd none the less.

A sliver of guilt, for how she treated Sean, poked at her. He was only trying to help. Trying to stop her from an action she might regret later. He didn’t understand, she didn’t want him to. To understand people close to him would have to die and she wouldn’t wish that on anyone.

Before braving the memories again, both good and bad, of her family’s restaurant and home she went back into the parking lot, where her mother’s car was. She went through the vehicle and took a few things from it. She took some paperwork that she’d mail to Amy and her mother’s simple, silver cross necklace that she hung from the rearview mirror. Mom wasn’t a very religious woman but she put the cross on the mirror for, what she said, a ‘just in case’ measure.

Liz stepped out of the car, locked it and made her way up front again. She eased her key into the lock of the double doors. She wouldn’t have another opportunity, for a while, to go through the restaurant.

The familiar bell above the door chimed, once when she opened the door and again when it closed behind her. She took in the tables, almost surprised by how clean they still were. Logically she knew it only been a few days since her parent’s murder but at the same time it felt like a lifetime ago. To the point that she felt like there should be cobwebs and dust everywhere.

Slowly she made her way down the aisle of the restaurant. She could almost hear the angry ding from the kitchen bell as Michael told them their order was up. Or the firm but cheerful reminder from Jose that these plates weren’t going to serve themselves.

As she made her way further into the establishment she picked up the chairs that the police and investigators had taken down to sit on. With as little noise as possible she put them back where they belonged when the restaurant was closed, back on the tables.

She stopped at the swinging door leading to the back. Breathing in and exhaling carefully she braced herself for the flashes that would come when she passed through the door.

As she expected she saw flashes of how she found her parents. Flashes of the thing that took them from her. Like one of those clip shows that show the highlights of a movie, only these clips were gruesome and horrific.

She made her way up the stairs and through the front door of the apartment. The air was still cool. She had forgotten to turn off the air conditioner when she was here last.

Liz walked over to the temperature control unit and turned the AC off. The soft hum in the background growled and fell silent. The sudden quiet gave her an eerie chill. She wrapped her arms around her middle trying to calm the strange feeling.

Breathing in deeply she shook off her feeling of loneliness and pushed her thoughts forward to the task at hand. Opening the front hall closet she set out to get the last bit of things she was going to bring with her on the road.

She pulled out her father’s duffle bag, the aroma of dirt and campfire smoke hit her nostrils. This was the bag her father took camping with him last year at Frasier woods. Liz smiled at the memory.

In that bag she put various knick-knacks consisting of books, cd’s, and her mother’s laptop. Along with the non-essentials she added some incase supplies, matches, a couple bottles of water, and some food that would survive over a long period of time. She also put her father’s old army jacket on top of everything before zipping the bag closed.

For the next twenty minutes she went through the house gathering various things, putting them in boxes, backpacks, or duffle bags and then put them into the bed of her father’s truck. When she had finished going through all the other rooms in her home, taking what she wanted or needed on the road she was left with one last room to go through, her own.

~*~*~

Outside on the balcony Gordon heard the girl move around the place. So far she hadn’t come back into her room. He had heard her come up and down the stairs a few times. Even overheard her speaking to herself.

He was surprised when he heard, “Stop freaking out Liz. There’s no one here but you.” She had finally come into her room. A mere few feet from where he was crouched near her window.

So the girl could tell that there was a presence, his presence specifically, inside her home but she brushed it off. He knew he hadn’t left any clues that he was there, so was she supernatural in origin or just freaked out by the silence and emptiness that was now her home?

He held the journal he found close to his chest. He only had a chance to read some of it but what he read left him with two impressions. One, that this girl annoyingly over thought everything. Yes, she wrote down what happened during the day but then she came up with eighty different reasons for something this Max guy did. Honestly he skimmed over a lot of that. And two, she was something supernatural and he was going to find out exactly what she was.

~*~*~

Liz heaved the luggage she just packed off the bed. She had packed her clothes, jeans, t-shirts, some sweaters, underwear, socks, and an extra pair of shoes. She put her toiletries into a plastic bag, some more of her jewelry in another plastic bag and tossed them in the luggage as well.

Next she had gone through her dresser drawers, grabbing photo albums and little knick-knacks that reminded her of Mom, Dad and her other family members, along with Alex and Maria. As she pushed some old homework away she spotted the picture of her and Max taken from a photo booth. Instead of putting it in the pile of other pictures in her luggage, she left it on top of the dresser.

This was the second to last bag she’d bring with her. Everything else, besides what she would put into the last bag, would be put into storage. While still in her room she brought out her duffle bag, the one she used when she went camping last year.

She packed the last bits of what she’d need or want with her. The items included, Grandma’s quilt, the rest of the paperwork that she’d need to mail to Amy later, the rest of her CD’s, the money she had in a tin box in the back of her dresser drawer, and few more pieces of clothing. All that she needed now was her journal; she didn’t want to leave that hanging around.

Breathing in deeply Liz took the luggage, minus the duffle bag, downstairs and put it in the backseat. She then took the blue tarp Dad kept in the bed of his vehicle and secured it over the belongings. She wasn’t taking much really, only half of the truck bed had the things from inside the house and there were other things in the truck bed as well, chains, tools, and a spare tire. Although it would give her more room, if she took those out Dad would haunt her for being stupid. Never knew when she’d need those things or where the next gas station or mechanics shop would be.

Securing everything she made her way up the stairs one last time. The only thing left was her journal and the duffle bag on her bed. She opened the front door, the air had heated up a bit since she turned off the air conditioning but it still had a bit of coolness left.

She made her way to her bedroom and she finally noticed something that she should have when she first walked in ten minutes ago. Her window was open. With the AC going it would have been closed. Slowly she tiptoed to the window. With cautious glances and a quick moment to gather her courage she poked her head of the window.

No one was out there. Liz snorted rudely. “I’m losing my mind.” She started to climb out of her bedroom when the door behind her slammed shut.

“Maybe you are. But in this case, you’re not.”

Liz whirled around, “Who the hell are you?” She recognized him as the Pastor from the memorial service but what person of God would be skulking around in a seventeen year old girl’s room? She knew he wasn’t there to save her soul or spread the word of God; he was there for something sinister, what she saw when she shook his hand before proved that he wasn’t on the up and up long before he stepped foot into her home.

He smiled coolly at her. “I think a better question might be who…or what the hell are you?”

“You’re in my house I’m pretty sure mine is the better question.” She gripped the edge of her window sill.

“Let’s not play with each other Miss Parker. We both know you’re not normal.” He pulled out a gun with his right hand and pointed it at her. “Please sit.” He pointed, with his non-gun hand, to her desk chair.

If he didn’t have her at gun point she might have resisted his instructions but the gun changed things. She obeyed his order, not taking her eyes off him and slowly sank into the chair.

“Now, do you want to explain this?” The man pulled out her journal from behind him.

Liz’s eyes widened in shock. He found her journal. How much of it did he read?

“Ah, I can see from your expression that you’re wondering how far I got in this.” He shook the book. “I skimmed most of it. The beginning wasn’t very interesting. Max did this, Max did that, I felt this when I looked into his eyes. Some mentions of other people and how what they did or didn’t do affected you. All very dramatic, none of it relevant or particularly entertaining.”

She watched in disgust as he fingered through her most personal possession as if it were nothing but trash. It made her sick. She had put everything she ever thought and felt in those pages, how dare he belittle that.

“But then we get to October. At first, same old, ho hum drivel about flying through space and feeling “connections”.” He didn’t use air quotes because both of his hands were occupied, but he would have clearly used them if he could. “However suddenly it becomes clear that you’re not just being overly dramatic.”

Liz swallowed hard. She knew exactly what entry he was referring too. The one where she couldn’t find any words to describe Future Max except to spell it out in plain English, the entry that she stopped hiding what really was going on in Roswell.

“I’m sure you know what you wrote. About your boyfriend coming from the future. At first I thought you were insane but then a lot of people would say that of me as well if they knew what I knew.”

Although it might get her killed she couldn’t resist telling him. “I have no idea what you know and I already think you’re insane.”

He doesn’t say a word, just smiled slowly, cruelly. The man in front of her didn’t seem at all bothered by her opinion of him.

“I don’t want to hurt you Miss Parker. I certainly don’t like to hurt innocent young girls. But I’ve got a feeling that you’re not entirely what you portray.” He tossed her journal haphazardly across her bed and near her duffle bag. “You’ve written about a lot of interesting things. Boyfriends from the future, strange visions, I think once you even mentioned some actual electrical current flowing through you.”

As he talked about the things she wrote she suddenly heard, Little freak. She could hear his thoughts, like at the restaurant when she heard some of the other diners and what they were thinking. Her eyes darted around the room, rush after rush of images came from the man’s mind. Hatred of everything non-human overwhelmed her and caused physical pain in her head.

A new voice, one distant and faint like a whisper, pierced through the hatred sharply. Gordon please, I’m still me. I’m still your sister.

She released a shaky breath and lifted her gaze to stare straight at the predator in her room. “Sounds like you’ve read a lot. What are you going to do?”

“I said I don’t want to hurt you.” Doesn’t mean I won’t. Can’t let monsters roam free.

Liz tightened her jaw and stared into his eyes. “Then shouldn’t you kill yourself?”

He paused. “What are you talking about?”

“You don’t want monsters roaming free. But you’re one of the monsters.” Liz revealed.

He took a step forward, his gun still pointed at her, and snarled out. “Can you read my mind?” No, she couldn’t, could she? “I am not a monster.”

“I don’t think your sister would agree, Gordon.” Liz knew she was pushing and it might get her killed but she wasn’t going to go down without a fight. She certainly wasn’t going to let him get away with terrorizing her without getting some terrorizing of her own in.

In different circumstances she would be questioning what she saw and why she saw it then when she terrified. Liz knew at that moment that she had heard other people’s thoughts earlier in the week, however she couldn’t wonder why and do the whole introspective thing now, it would have to wait until she was out of this situation.

Gordon let his anger dictate his next set of movements. It was enough to give her the upper hand.

He stalked toward her and clamped his left hand around her neck. “Don’t you talk about her!” He commanded.

When he touched her bare flesh she again saw the flashes of blood and rolling heads that she saw when she shook his hand at her parent’s memorial. Liz saw glimpses of fangs, bloodied machete’s, and saws.

Incredibly frightened she began to fight his hold. She pushed hard against his chest when a green, electrical spark shot out of her hands and sent Gordon flying across the room into the wall behind the door.

Breathing heavily she jumped off the chair, grabbed her journal and duffle bag and raced out the bedroom window. She didn’t check to see if Gordon was alive, dead, unconscious or just dazed, she didn’t care. With her bag over her shoulder and her journal between her teeth she hurried down the ladder as fast as possible.

She jumped from the last wrung, landing on her feet. Liz fell to her knees and squeaked out a painful cry. Her journal fell from her teeth at the impact; her ankle still was not strong enough to support her jump from the ladder. She pushed back up, grabbing her journal up again and ran as best she could to her father’s truck.

Liz shoved her items inside, hopped in and sped out of the driveway. Away from crazy ass Gordon, away from the Crashdown, away from her home, and away from Roswell.

TBC

Next Chapter: Liz is on the road. Who will be the second Supernatural character she’ll meet? What trouble will Liz get into while still on her downward spiral?