L-J-L 76 - Thank you so much for the feedback!
Helen (Roswelllostcause) - *laughs* Yes, maybe you
do need to rethink that power source, since Liz needs all the help she can get
Thank you so much for the feedback!
Eve (begonia9508) - This type of violence against women is horrendous. Not just the physical abuse, but the mental scars it leaves
Thank you so much for the feedback!
Ashley (Morning Dreamgirl)
You're tricky with Liz's dreams you know. The first one with Nancy, the second one with Sean and now this third one.
The interesting bit about this one though is that it seemed (partially) fulfilled so quickly. She stumbles upon Max wearing only his black jeans - which I imagine is pretty accurate if he's awaiting trial, they wouldn't send him home to wait comfortably. Then (after "waking him up") just a few minutes later she finds him in her mind. Did they connect on another level which brought him back to enough consciousness for them to reconnect mentally? Like if they were both on a sleep level maybe she was finally able to reach him.
*laughs* You really get caught up in those dreams, don’t you? Maybe they’re just dreams. Your mind trying to sort through everything you’re going through. But I know that mezzi would be with you on this one; analyzing the dreams right along with you.
Did Sean *really* think he could convince Liz that she loved him and that Max was the bad guy after she was willing to take the blast for Max? He's either delusional, has a very low level of expectation as far as Liz's emotions and beliefs or seriously over estimates his own abilities. Perhaps all of the above. :-/
Who knows what Sean thinks? (I barely do, he’s one messed up individual) He’s either really stupid or just acting stupid. Or, like you said, he thinks very little of Liz’s emotions and both underestimates her and overestimates himself. Delusions of grandeur comes to mind…
I don't get why Liz would feel guilty though. The confused part makes sense because when Sean acted like that you have to wonder what the heck is going on ET's mind. But I don't get why she would feel guilty for telling him she never cared for him - especially after everything he's done to her - when she's "take-no-BS-Parker."
Why did Liz feel guilty? Because she’s human. Because she cares for people. Because she is starting to realize that something must’ve messed Sean up pretty badly to turn him into the person he is and she pities that. And for her to add (in whatever minuscule way) onto that makes her feel guilty. Even though it’s the truth. Even though Sean wouldn’t hesitate to hurt her if he felt like it. Liz has never met this kind of evil before. So she still reacts how she’s been brought up. That words hurt. Even if they’re the truth. So briefly, she feels guilty. Yeah, she’s not the type to take any BS, but she tries to do so without hurting anyone.
Plus. Sean really did a number on her mind (and emotions) before Max bonded with her. There has to be some residual feelings there from what Sean manipulated her into feeling.
He obviously had some kind of emotional bent towards Liz as well even if Max never saw it. He says he lost some of the respect he had for her when she put herself in front of Max when Sean tried to kill him. Which means on at least some level he had a small amount of respect for her.
Yes, Sean has respected Liz. Mostly because she has shown strength - even if it mean that she was fighting
him. But he quite liked the idea of having a bonded mate who was strong and not meek and complacent. As long as that strong girl was on his side. Loved
him. He probably thought it would all work itself out eventually. That because he was
intended for Liz, things would work in that favor.
Guess not…
Even Command seemed to understand that Max and Liz had an extremely strong bond. If his father couldn't break thru and Command noticed the strength (in addition to the electricity/glow at the meeting) why does Sean think he'll be able to break their bond without causing bodily injury to himself?
Command understands a lot of the situation and knows a lot. He’s the man in charge after all. But Sean is… just a boy. He thinks that because he’s part of the military, because his father is second in command, that he can do whatever. That Max will never be able to get back at him, because Max would risk his own life by harming/killing Sean. Sean is (stupidly) relaxed in this illusion. He probably hasn’t thought too much about that Max might be very powerful now if Liz is showing such abilities or that Max will probably ignore the ”rules” and try and kill Sean if the right situation presents itself. Because Sean believes that his standing in the alien society will protect him.
Thank you!
From SIXTY-TWO:
Sean groaned and my focus immediately sharpened. I pulled my legs to my chest, scooted up against the headboard and temporarily forgot about the throbbing pain across my cheekbone, as I watched Sean start to rise from his recumbency.
"I don't know how or what you just did, bitch," he mumbled.
My pulse was so loud in my ears that I could barely hear his threats. He grabbed onto the door handle for leverage as he unsteadily pulled himself to his feet. "Maybe I should get Max to heal me for this stunt of yours. He would see what I've done to you. See you in my mind. That would be fun."
I paled. Whenever Max was mentioned, the fear gripped me tighter.
"I'll be back, Lizzie," he hissed, his eyes darker than I had ever seen them.
As he slammed the door behind him and left me alone, the pain in my cheek became very obvious. I couldn't stop the tears, even if I had wanted to.
I sank down into the bed, curled up in a tight fetal position, with my back against the headboard, aiming to make myself disappear as I sought out that presence at the back of my head. The only thing that was making this bearable. The only thing that was giving me hope.
A/N: I'm adding some gifs and pics to "represent" every chapter. I'll go back (as soon as I can) through my posts and add to the previous chapters as well. So you can take a look if you want 
Most are from "Roswell", but some are just from the net (I'm sure you'll be able to tell what is what 
). I've worked myself up to chapter 20 before I realized that I had a lot of chapters. So I'll add some more later 
SIXTY-THREE
"I wonder," the Sergeant said slowly on the third day of my deprivation of freedom, "how much your mother really told you of the double life she was leading."
Feeling the need to protect my mother and ascertain that she hadn't belonged to the aliens; that they had killed someone who had actually kept their secret, I answered, "Nothing. I knew nothing of what you exposed her to."
He didn't acknowledge the venom in my voice as he huffed, "Huh," and sat down on the bed. Right where he would normally sit during his visits. "Let me tell you about your mother, Elizabeth."
I barely had time to consider if this should be something to be happy about - getting some more information on my mother - or if it should scare me, before he sent me a vision.
My suspicions about the strength of his abilities were further confirmed as he managed to project images into my mind without even touching me. Without a proper connection.
A young woman was running towards me, a large smile stretched across her lips. She looked a lot like myself, only her eyes were green and her hair was dark auburn. Her curly hair bounced around her open and freckled face. I gasped with the deepest joy as she jumped into my arms.
Mom.
It was mom.
At an age that I hadn't known her. My age. A happy carefree adolescent.
"Hey," she breathed into my neck and I tightened my arms around her. She felt small in my arms - breakable - and I realized that I wasn't only seeing the Sergeant's
vision. I was seeing it from his viewpoint. At the moment I was him.
And my mom didn't seem the least afraid of him. No. When she pulled back and placed a gentle kiss on my -
his - lips, I could see that she was in love. Very much in love with Steven Carter. In love with the enemy. The monster.
The edges of the memory blurred and shifted from the outside summery setting to the closed indoors. To the white-tiled bathroom with red staining on the floor.
I froze, looking closer at the bright red against the stark white tiles.
Blood.
And in the middle of the pool of blood was a slightly older version of my mom. She was sitting in the color of life, her legs bare, wearing an oversized grey T-shirt, with her red curls free around her face. Crying with the sounds of death.
No. Not just crying.
Screaming.
Making the blood freeze in my veins.
Her head turned towards me, her cheeks flustered and wet, and there was cold hatred in her red-brimmed eyes as she cried, "You did this! You did this!"
I looked at the bundle in her hands, the undeveloped fetus. The child, no larger than a package of butter. A dead child, which was cradled in my mother's bloodied hands.
"No," I heard myself say. But it wasn't my voice. Not my opinion. "This is on you, Nance. You can't even provide me with a child, you worthless whore."
In the present, in the room where I was seated with the Sergeant, I pressed my hands to my head and tried to physically force the visions out of my head. "Stop! Stop it!"
But the visions kept on coming. Loving and even romantic moments between the Sergeant and my mother mixed with the devastation and grief of one miscarriage after the other. He forced me to trace how the pink shimmer of the beginning of their relationship started to wear off. How my mom began to figure out who her boyfriend really was as the facade began to crack. I saw signs of myself in my mom as she grew more tired, constantly plagued by headaches.
When she would no longer look at him with love, he would force himself on her. He showed me the struggles, the fear in my mother's eyes, the tears down her cheek, the blood on the sheets. He showed me how he stole her memories even when she begged him not to.
And the continuous abortion of fetuses of all sizes. My heart was threatening to fall apart because of the pain. I couldn't account for the number of times my mother had been pregnant with the Sergeant - the equivalent number of times her body had rejected the babies.
I begged for him to stop. I begged for my own sanity, when it was starting to make perfect sense why my mother had - in the end - lost hers.
As the assault of his visions was retracted, my upper body slumped forward, my eyes burning from the wear of tears, and I found myself exhausted.
Then Sgt. Carter sent me into another vision. Of me.
A much younger and blissfully ignorant version of me.
I watched with fearful apprehension the worry on my mother's face as I -
he - watched the young me. I saw how my mother reached for me when I picked my younger self up in my arms and hugged the small body close to mine. A little bit too tightly.
"Let her go, Steven," my mother said, sharply, just as the child - the young Elizabeth (who seemed to be barely two years old) - started crying.
To my relief, he did. Young Elizabeth was placed on her feet and stumbled straight into Nancy's arms.
My mother cradled the small body protectively in her embrace and her eyes were filled with hatred when she looked at me. Him.
I shuddered. I had never personally experienced that look from my mother. It was a look that promised death to anyone that would hurt the ones she loved.
"You can try and protect her all you want," the Sergeant albeit taunted, the vision using my mouth to speak. "But soon she'll be a part of us and serve us. Just like you."
I watched my mother pale, all color drain from her face, and she slowly shook her head, pressing her child closer to her by placing a hand to the back of the dark-haired head.
"No," Nancy said weakly. "Use me. You'll get enough out of using me. Leave my baby out of this."
"And leave my son defenseless?" the Sergeant questioned in mock surprise, insinuating that my mother was the cold-hearted, selfish one out of the two of them. "That's a bit selfish, don't you think?"
"Your
son-" my mother spat, "-will do fine without my daughter."
She started to walk backwards, the crying from my younger self drowning any noise from the surroundings. "I won't stand by and watch her be forced to repeat my life."
Her voice broke at the last sentence and I could see how she was barely holding on. On the verge of falling apart.
The little girl's screams rose in volume alongside my mother's increasing agitation and my heart broke as I watched my mother put her lips to the side of my younger self's head, placing soothing gentle kisses against the innocent softness, whispering hushed nonsensical words of comfort while she rocked the young child in her arms.
"The purpose of your daughter's life is to devote her life to us. To help us. It's an honorable task. Not many people's lives have a chance to mean something. You should consider her blessed."
"
Blessed?" my mother spat acidly. "You've
got to be kidding me."
His shoulders shrugged and his tone was light and nonchalant across my lips as he stated, "Just see it this way; You'll never have to worry about who she'll marry or what career she'll have. A lot of girls suffer from depression because they feel like there are too many choices to make in life." He chuckled good-naturedly. "She won't ever have to worry abut that. It's all taken care of."
My mother rocked me harder, the frustration and fear evident in her increasingly agitated motions. "You stay away from her, Steven. You can do whatever you want to me. But you stay away from her."
And the vision blurred and disintegrated around me like smoke.
"No," I gasped, reaching out towards her escaping shape - the image of my mom.
Instead, the Sergeant's face became clear in front of me, a satisfied grin on his face.
"See? There's no need to try and resist us, Liz. Your mom tried. She tried for many years. Even
before you were born. And just look how that turned out."
When I didn't say anything, his eyes gleamed with frightening clarification. "She became unhinged and then turned into dust. Ashes." As if it had been my mother's fault. As if her insanity and subsequent death had been her own doing. Because she had been resisting.
Heat from my grief - coupled with the bottomless anger towards the man in front of me - threatened to burn away my insides.
He leaned forward and brushed his finger down my cheek. My body didn't reject him. To my relief he didn't touch me any more than that.
"Be smart, Lizzie," he said softly. "Don't destroy your life. Sean is-" he shook his head, as if he didn't quite believe in it himself, "-really infatuated with you. If you let him; he'll be good for you."
I snapped my body back from his touch and pulled on the collar to my sweater, displaying a ring of red and blue bruising around my throat. In case he had missed the sickly-colored bruise on my cheek.
"Is
this how he will take care of me, huh?" I bit out hotly. "Because to me, that's not love. That's not even care."
The Sergeant gave me an almost condescending smile. "Sean has trouble controlling his temper at times. And I bet that
you - if you are anything like your mother-," he caught a tendril of my hair and rolled it slowly between his fingertips, "-are not really making it easy on my boy."
"He doesn't deserve easy," I mumbled, brushing his hand away when it floated over the purple bruise across my cheekbone. The first hit.
"Is he in your head now?" the Sergeant asked, almost curiously.
"Sean?" I taunted in disbelief. As if his son would have any more access to my mind than his father.
The Sergeant's eyes darkened at my mocking tone and his voice was ice-cold as he corrected me, "Max. Max Evans."
I swallowed. Max's name sobered me up. Made heat float into my shattered and weary body.
"Yes," I acknowledged quietly, dropping my eyes.
I didn't want to look at the man when talking about Max. Max was private. Max was to be protected.
"You know," the Sergeant mused. "I should have just killed him when all of this started."
I swallowed and looked up at him. Hearing him threatening Max's life was freezing every cell in my body. One painful freeze after the other.
"But Command found out - and then Philip butted in." He shrugged. "It's a shame he's the only healer left in his generation. Ever since that idiot David died in that motorcycle accident last year. Max is apparently-" he swallowed as if he had swallowed something nasty, "indispensable."
"If he hadn't been..." I whispered and licked my dry lips. "He would have been killed."
"I don't think you realize the magnitude of the crime you've committed, Ms. Parker," the Sergeant said slowly and threateningly. "Anyone else would have been executed the moment he started having impure thoughts about you. The only one allowed to have that is my son."
"Have you ever reflected on what you're doing?" I asked. "That you're forcing a human being to have...relations with an alien. To put her life in danger and dictate her whole future without her having a say?"
"You will be safer with us than without us," the Sergeant said simply. "We have protectors for you, and our whole society would make sure that you're not to be harmed. What other ordinary human being - excluding the ones that can pay for it - have their own bodyguard?"
I narrowed my eyes in irritation. "Still, that's just for your benefit. To protect your interests. You're not doing it because you care about me."
"Come on," the Sergeant breathed. "It's not like you humans don't have those arrangements. Arranged marriages - usually with really big age differences - are still very real in many of your cultures. Not too many years back, you imported colored people from Africa to
serve you, under ridiculous and appalling conditions. So don't try and get on your high horse here, Ms. Parker, and lecture me on what is right and wrong."
"I was not part of any of that," I whispered. "I can only relate to my own situation. And hope that you would learn from all those indifferences in our world just like the human population is starting to. And I'm-" I hesitated, biting back my pride, "-begging you to let me go. Let Max and I be. We can help out - as a bonded couple - and maybe still be beneficial to you."
Maybe it was stupid to try and reason - negotiate with a monster - but I had to try. I was reaching the end of my rope here.
There was a twitch in the corner of his eye and the light in his eyes intensified into a frightening fervor, as if he was trying to X-ray his way through my face. "Enlighten me then, Ms. Parker. What is so great about a bonding between you and a healer? Why should we let you off the hook, let you get away with this crime? Why should we ignore laws that have been in play for longer than you have lived, that have been very beneficial to our race, only because you two are indulging in a high school romance?"
The sarcasm was dripping like acid off his voice, making me sick. Making me want to scream at him for not understanding how deeply I felt for Max. Even if I was just a human. Even if he was just a healer. Even if we were still in high school. Even if we were still 'kids'.
I wanted to crush that smile of his between my fingers. I really wanted to have the power to silence him, to prove to him that he was wrong. He was so wrong.
But he wasn't just an adult that was shoving his years and experience in the face of a disobedient teenager. I wasn't in a position to scream at him from the top of my lungs or slam a door in his face, as if to end a quarrel between a daughter and her father.
This was not my loving father, who loved me unconditionally even in the face of occasional arguments.
This adult could probably snap my neck with barely a thought. And would do so without hesitation or remorse if he found it appropriate.
Ergo, my voice was calm and level, borderline respectful, as I tried to enlighten him. "I know you don't want to believe me or Max about this. I know that we have broken a lot of rules and upset your community. We
both know this. We never intended to be disrespectful or defiant. We can't control what we feel for each other." I inhaled deeply and added, "The bond is actually pushing us together."
There was not a single emotion on the Sergeant's face. None to reflect how he was interpreting the information I was giving him.
So I continued, further emphasizing that neither Max nor I were in control of this. Reiterating that we were innocent products of an alien phenomenon. "I don't really understand all of this. Neither does Max, even if he has more knowledge than I do. But from what I've understood, the connection we share is not ordinary. It's not even typical of a bond between a gaea and her intended alien. We can communicate telepathically-"
"That's not unusual," the Sergeant interrupted complacently.
"-without touching," I filled in, seeing the brief surprise flicker through his eyes, which encouraged me to continue. "We can communicate with thoughts across a distance. And I'm sure this is something that would develop further with time, seeing that we haven't been bonded that long."
The Sergeant looked bored. "That's all very interesting, Ms. Parker. But the question remains; How would that be beneficial to us? Sure, silent communication would be an asset in battle, but none of you are trained for that type of endeavor any way. And where's the proof that a similar connection can't be formed with another alien, say - my son?" He tapped his index finger against his mouth in contemplation. "I think it would be a waste to not give it a try, wouldn't you? Seeing that my son is very strong. The things he could do with your particular
input..."
I swallowed at the creepy double meaning to his suggestion, but squared my shoulders and mustered up a challenging look to hide my terrified nervousness. "Say that I agreed to bond with Sean. Say that the bond between Max and I could actually be broken. If a bonding between Sean and I proved less successful than the connection I had shared with Max, would you let me reconnect with Max?"
A slow smile spread across his lips, making him look like a devious snake. "Are you trying to cut a deal with me, Elizabeth?"
Never in a million years, I thought, but replied, "Hypothetically."
"Something tells me that Sean wouldn't give you up once he got you," the Sergeant said slowly and I bit my lip to prevent it from shaking.
My thought exactly, I realized grimly.
"Besides, it doesn't really matter in the end; what you might have had with the Evans boy is against the law. It's not meant to be. Your destiny is much greater than a high school crush."
It's not a high school crush! I wanted to scream at him, but I held my tongue.
The visions of my mother and the dead babies were still lingering at the back of my head. Still very present in my mind. I don't think I would ever forget them. Unless they
made me forget them, of course.
So instead of trying to convince him of something that he seemed dead-set on not agreeing to, I changed tracks. "What about the gaea-bloodline?
Is it possible for a gaea to have a child with an alien? Were your...attempts-" I swallowed against the horrible visions of his treatment of my mother, "-with my mom an exception or the rule?"
"It's usually not done," the Sergeant replied, surprising me with what seemed to be honesty. "Usually we bond with someone we desire, to create a family."
Someone they
desired... Not someone they
loved.
"Our relationship with the gaea is business. Not a way to play house."
He still wasn't answering my question. Even if aliens
usually chose someone other than their gaea to create a family with (as he claimed), it failed to answer the question of whether or not it was
possible for a gaea to have a child with an alien. If there had been successful pregnancies in the past between a gaea and an alien, or if the combination of my mother and the Sergeant was futile.
Something told me that it was possible. Why else would the Sergeant even bother with getting my mother pregnant? One could explain it by the Sergeant 'accidentally' impregnating my mother, but if that was the case why would he have told my mom (in one of the visions he had just made me watch) that she couldn't even give him a child, if he knew that there was no possibility of a successful pregnancy happening?
I had a very strong feeling that he wouldn't be upfront about this. Probably a strategic move on his behalf to let me wonder, since my mother's fate was so closely intertwined with my own.
I let it slide, focusing on what he had just said before my thoughts ran away with me, and how much it irked me.
The aliens' relationship with gaeas was business, "Even though you had sex with her," I asked, being way past the point of feeling embarrassed about bringing that topic up with him after he had shown me too many sexual visions of he and my mother that a child to that parent should ever have to see. Actually, no human being should ever witness that cold violence and oppression.
Sgt. Carter shrugged. "It's how we bond. It's as simple as that. Although..." he started and winked at me. I pressed my mouth together. Tightly. "Sex with a gaea is something different. Which is why I went after your mother for more than just a connection. So that I could have her -
all of her. It was actually kinda fun - and satisfying, I must admit - to watch her fall for me. To watch her grow weak in her love for me. How easy it was to manipulate her, to make her want to do
anything for me."
He chuckled and shook his head in disbelief. "You humans are such victims to your feelings. They really make you look - and act - like idiots." He smiled knowingly. "Max is doing the same thing to you, you know. Manipulating your feelings, making you
think that you love him and that he loves you. That's why you're so intent on defending him, on defending your bond. He's got you trapped in his little net and you don't even know it."
The anger I was feeling was so overwhelming, so suffocating, that I forgot how to breathe. I stared at him in open disgust, as my fingers curled into the mattress of the bed. I felt the heat of the restrained wrath numb me while it simultaneously ignited me.
How dared he?
My vision was actually turning red and I felt like crying or screaming. I didn't really know which.
I just knew that I wanted to crush him. I wanted to pump my feelings towards him into his body and
make him understand. I wanted him to suffer, to regret his assumptions, to repent his condescending smiles and experience the inhuman misery he had put my mother through.
As I thought and felt this, I could see his face turning redder. I realized that it hadn't been my vision that had turned red, it was the man in front of me. His eyes widened in something akin to horror as his eyeballs started to protrude from the eye sockets, the small vessels in the whites of his eyes becoming visible like thin jagged trials of blood.
He tumbled off the bed, with his arms tightly aligned along his upper body. He was oddly stiff, which made the convulsions running through his body look odd and mechanical.
I was staring at him, my breathing shallow and unfulfilling, and met his bulging eyes straight on.
Which I probably shouldn't have done.
There was an acutely sharp and burning chop through the front of my skull, as if he had just cleaved my forehead with an axe. The pain resonated through my whole body, efficiently cooling my anger as I collapsed onto my back. I frantically cast my hands to my head, expecting to feel a hole there, expecting to get blood on my hands as my life poured out of me.
But my head was intact even while the pain was still very real.
I blinked up, my eyes squinting against the pain, as his shape leaned over me. His face was eerily neutral in the aftermath of what had happened to him. Whatever had happened to him was now gone. He looked perfectly like himself again.
He traced my face with cold empty eyes and stated calmly, "You just proved to me that you are invaluable to my son. I promise you, Elizabeth Parker. You
are going to serve my son and you are going to be grateful to do it."
With that, he left, and the pain in my head ebbed along with his departure, leaving me with the traumatizing images of the life my mother had led at the hands of a cold and barbaric alien.
Knowing that Steven Carter had not merely shown me my mother's past, but also my own future.
TBC...
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