Roswell Fanatics

This is just awesome to say the least!!!

AlysLuv - Thank you
Roswelllostcause - Mmmm... Maybe Thank you for the feedback!
Eve (begonia9508) - Yes, why are they so interested in this one brown-eyed girl? Thank you for the feedback!
saori_1902 - Yep Thank you for the feedback!
L-J-L 76 - Thank you for the feedback!
Alien_Friend - Hey! Great to see you here And thank you so much for that lengthy feedback Totally made my day - and the days after

I am kind of surprised Max didn't try to erase Maria's memory when he found out she was filling Liz in on some of what he made her forget.

Well, Max was kinda standing right in front of Liz when she realized for certain that the glimpses of the healing that her mind had gotten were pertaining to an actual memory. He could tell that she just figured it out, so he probably never suspected that she'd had the time to tell Maria. Of course, there were aspects of that night that Liz told Maria about and there were things that happened (with Max) after that night that didn't add up with Maria's memory once Max had erased parts of Liz's memory. But to Max, the most important thing was that Liz didn't remember the healing. Not the things surrounding that night. Doing the same thing to Maria would risk exposing him further (if something went wrong).

I was surprised he could even do it when at first he wasn't sure he could.

This will be explained in the future...

What I love the most is how you are able to maintain that dreamer connection behind all secrets they still can manage to share a connection and seem to understand each other in ways no one else can.

Thank you so much. That means a lot to me <3

Natalie36 - Thank you for the feedback!
dreamon - *grins* Thank you!


From TEN:

“Still, your father shouldn’t have reacted like that. You needed someone to look after you, to be nice to you. You were…” I swallowed.

He tensed next to me and breathed quietly, “What?”, wanting me to finish the sentence.

“You were completely broken. It was horrible to see you like that. The last thing you needed was to be yelled at.”

There was a moment of silence, before Max said, “You don’t know him. He’s not a bad person.”

I huffed. “Could have fooled me.”

I expected him to get annoyed with my refusal of his attempt at excusing his father’s behavior, but instead he surprised me by saying, “Thank you for sticking up for me.”

I remembered stepping in front of him, shielding him from his own father, and I flushed. What had possessed me to do that? As if I had been willing to sacrifice my own safety to keep Max safe.

Preposterous.

“Sure,” I mumbled, uncomfortable.

Max cleared his throat and I stole a glance at him, pretty sure that he was also uncomfortable. The thought of suave and confident Max Evans being uncomfortable made my heart skip a beat. It was like I could glimpse behind the facade he put up.

“We’re here,” he announced, startling me out of my reverie.

I looked out the window and could see “The CrashDown” flash in neon lettering. Max rolled the car to a stop and I bit my lip as I reached to open the door.

“Uhm, thanks for the lift, I guess,” I said.

“Yeah,” he said lightly.

I looked at him briefly (he was looking straight ahead at the restaurant), before stepping out of the car.
ELEVEN

Mom was almost back to her normal self. Apparently sleeping for 13 hours straight fixed most ailments.

I couldn’t help but watch her like a hawk though. There were still some things that were off. How she could be acting perfectly normal one second but then get weak and almost faint in the middle of doing the dishes. How she could start slurring her words halfway through an eloquent conversation and still manage to finish the sentence with her speech unaffected.

There were a lot of shared concerned looks between my father and I during that week (even dad had foregone rationalizing the whole thing), but my mother dismissed our apprehension with laughter, claiming that she should really start getting some more sleep. And that she should finally start eating healthier. And exercise. Plus, take some extra vitamins.

Her excuses nauseated me, because I knew deep down in the core of my being that something was very wrong. Something that could not be fixed by adding some magnesium and vitamin D to her diet.

My mother’s mysterious condition scattered my thoughts, made me unfocused and on edge. Hence, the week passed in a blur, where I barely registered Sean’s attempts at making eye contact or Max’s gaze following me down the corridor. Even Maria faded into the background, but I wasn’t sure she even noticed. After all, Alex had returned from his family trip and they had a lot of catching up to do.

That’s how I found myself in my room on Friday evening, staring at my opened wardrobe, wondering what to pack for the camping trip which I really didn’t want to attend. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to spend time with dad. Because I did.

The truth was; I didn’t want to leave mom alone.

The camping adventure was an annual thing with the aim of getting fathers to spend more time with their daughters. I probably spent more time with my dad than most girls my age (considering that I didn’t only share his blood but also his workplace), but my dad nevertheless loved this camping expedition.

I think it was mostly because he could hang out with the other fathers, telling stories in front of a campfire while sizzling sausages over the embers.

But I could tell that my dad wasn’t feeling that much up to the camping trip this year either, even though he was putting on a happy face. Dad wouldn’t straight out tell me, but it was a no-brainer that he was really worried about his wife’s irregular and on-and-off deteriorating condition.

I pulled out a thick sweatshirt and sighed. Let’s get the packing over with.
“So, you and Sean Carter, huh?” Emma asked me.

I bent down to pick up a stick for the fire and sighed mentally. We’d only been on the campsite for two hours and already I was hating all this socializing. But mostly, I hated to not be able to just hang with my friends. Maria’s father abandoned her and her mother when Maria was four, so being fatherless disqualified Maria from this trip. And Alex - well, Alex was a boy. This was merely for girls and their fathers.

Which meant that I was stuck gathering material for the campfire with Emma Kingston and Pamela Troy. Basically, I was stuck gathering material with the gossip mill of Roswell High.

“Not really,” I said evasively.

“Lisa saw you two kissing at Joe’s Diner,” Pam pointed out.

I forced myself not to glare at the blonde and instead bent to retrieve another stick off the ground. “She did, huh?”

“Come on, don’t be all mysterious,” Emma said. “Give us something.”

“I heard that she’s also dating Max Evans,” Pam said, suddenly referring to me as if I was no longer present.

“That, I don’t believe,” Emma stated, sounding somewhat offended.

From this I concluded that it was okay for someone like me to date someone like Sean Carter, but not Max Evans. Max Evans was very much out of my league. I was neither a cheerleader nor an airhead.

“Don’t you ever get tired of butting into everyone else’s business?” I asked, turning to go back to the campsite. I was done gathering sticks with these people.

The girls apparently ignored my question, instead starting to talk amongst themselves.

“There’s seriously no way that Liz Parker can have both Sean and Max interested in her. At the same time.”

“No one’s ever been attracted to her before.”

I rolled my eyes. Hello? Standing right here. But I couldn’t even be bothered to tell them that obvious fact.

“Maybe there’s a bet going on.”

“Oh. Oh,” Pam jumped excitedly. “Like in that movie-“ she snapped her fingers in the search of the title “-uhm…”

“‘She’s All That’,” I supplied, bored now. How could it be so boring to listen to two bimbos discussing my life?

“Right!” Pam erupted.

“No no,” Emma objected. “I wasn’t talking about a make-over. That’s what they do in that movie, right? They make that nerdy girl look attractive and suddenly the guy sees her and falls for her. Ugh.” Emma made a gagging noise.

“Unrealistic,” Pam pointed out.

“Yeah, really,” Emma agreed and hitched her head in my direction. “Liz has not changed at all. No make-over.”

“Your point being?” I asked.

“Maybe the bet is to take her virginity,” Emma said and I exhaled loudly in annoyance.

Really?

I hated high school.

“You are a virgin, right?” Pam asked and both girls turned globe-sized eyes on me while they waited for my answer.

“So let me get this straight,” I sighed. “You think that the most plausible reason for two guys to be interested in me is just to win a bet about being the first one to get into my pants?”

Emma looked at her doppelgänger and nodded slowly. “Yeah…yeah, it actually would make sense.”

“You’re right,” I said, putting on an honest and uncomfortable expression. “You are most likely 100% right.”

Pam’s eyes almost bulged out of their sockets. “They told you? About the bet?”

“No,” I replied, tightening my grip on the sticks gathered in my arms. “But you just made all the pieces of the puzzle fall into place.”

“I knew it,” Emma declared gleefully and I almost expected her to high-five her friend.

Was it really that impossible to fathom that two guys could be interested in me?

Not that I believed it myself. Sure, Sean had shown obvious interest and even made a move or two. But Max… I didn’t know what Max wanted; couldn’t understand him at all.

It wouldn’t surprise me if the vampire had a bet going with his friends though. But I was pretty sure he was not in a bet with Sean - there was just too much bad blood between them.

“Who are you gonna pick?” Pam asked, bringing me back from my thoughts.

I stared at her in disbelief. They were seriously discussing that two guys had made a bet to take my virginity and that I would - now that I found out - happily chose who it would be. A normal person would never want to see either guy ever again after finding out, but apparently the girls standing in front of me, looking at me expectantly, were not normal.

“Why choose?” I asked with a shrug, turned on my heel and left them to figure that one out.
I plopped down on top of my sleeping bag next to dad, groaning, “Save me.”

“Did you have fun with the girls?” my dad asked with a grin. Just like the camping trip was an annual tradition, so was me being forced to hang out with those same girls. The result was always the same; me irreparably damaged for several days afterward.

“We had a marvelous time,” I replied, my voice muffled against the sleeping bag.

“Learn anything new about hair dyes?” dad asked somberly.

I supported my head in my left hand as I rolled onto my side and looked at my dad. “No, but quite a lot about boys and sex.”

My father blanched and I laughed. “Relax, Daddy.”

He searched my face and gave the appearance of relaxing, but to my amusement I could tell that he was still trying to figure out if there had been any truth in my statement.

“Maybe these camping trips are not that healthy for you, after all,” dad grumbled and I smiled, reaching behind me to grab my backpack and pulled out a thick chemistry book.

I could feel my dad’s eyes on me and practically hear the raised eyebrow in his question as he asked, “You’re studying?”

“Sorry,” I smiled at him apologetically. “I haven’t got much done this week because of…” my voice faltered and dad filled in.

“Because of mom.”

I nodded and swallowed, my throat drying up. “Yeah.” I opened the book to my bookmark and added, “And I have this huge test coming up next week.”

“Okay,” dad said and rose from his sleeping bag. He bent down and kissed me on the forehead, saying, “I’ll just go and hang out with the dads then.”

I smiled at him, “You do that,” knowing that it wasn’t really a sacrifice on his behalf.
“I’m sorry, Dad,” I said softly, looking out the window at the passenger side. “I know you really like these camping trips.”

I hadn’t meant to cut it short, but as I had started to skim through the chemistry notes, I had been struck with the growing anxiety and panic about how much there still was to study and how little time I had to do it. My dad, being the father he was, had taken one look at me and decided that we should leave early the next morning.

Now, on Sunday morning, the sun had barely made it up over the horizon yet, but both my dad and I were early risers. We liked it that way. The serene quiet and stillness of the early morning, the fresh morning smells and the illusion that you were all alone in the world.

“School comes first, honey,” my dad said, shooting me a soft smile. “I wouldn’t want you to miss out on Harvard just because I wanted to spend another day in the wilderness.”

I shook my head with a smile, “I think- well, I hope that it will take more than a camping trip to harm my chances of going to university.”

“I know, baby,” he said and sighed. “I just don’t like seeing you so stressed out.” He turned on the indicator as we got closer to the main road leading into Roswell. “Besides, I wouldn’t mind getting home to your mom a bit earlier anyway.”

“Yeah,” I said softly, refocusing my unseeing gaze on the passing landscape. “You and me both.”

I fought the motion sickness that was rising in my throat as I turned another page in the heavy book pressing heavily against my thighs. Reading while riding a car was never a very good idea.

“How’s everything with Maria and Alex?” my dad asked, pulling me from the text.

“They’re okay,” I answered vaguely, my attention still on the diagram on the right page.

“Alex was just on a trip somewhere?”

I nodded. Alex’s family was one of the (many) well-off families in Roswell. He didn’t like to make a show out of it and through all the years I’ve known him, he had never acted stuck up or condescending about his background and life. He was one of the most down-to-earth people I knew.

“They went to Europe…” I lifted my head from the book in contemplation, “…Portugal, I think.” I shrugged. “Just for a couple of days.”

“Ah-ha,” my dad said and thrummed his fingers against the steering wheel.

I could tell that there was something on his mind; and it most likely did not concern the Whitman’s spare time activities.

“And you? How are you?” he asked, getting it out there.

My dad and I rarely talked about feelings. We had a really great relationship and I loved him to death, but I didn’t share everything with my dad. Mostly because it seemed to make him a bit uncomfortable and nervous.

Just like he was now.

I looked at him and gave him a soft smile, thanking him for asking. “I’m fine, Dad.”

“Any…” my dad cleared his throat, “Any boys in your life?”

A breath of amusement escaped me, the smile lingering, while I looked out the window - turning my face away from my dad. “Not really.”

“Ah, okay,” my dad said, sounding even more uncomfortable.

“Don’t worry, Daddy,” I said, looking at him. “I haven’t joined the big leagues yet.”

A faint blush reached his cheeks as my comment hit bullseye. He was, like most fathers with daughters my age, a bit nervous about me dating. I don’t know why I didn’t tell him about my date with Sean right then.

Maybe I was hesitant to make him uncomfortable or maybe I didn’t want to deal with the follow-up questions. Maybe I just didn’t want to share that with my dad. Especially not since I didn’t know if the “thing” with Sean was going anywhere or not.

The whole Sean-thing still confused me. It was like my feelings couldn’t hatch onto anything. I couldn’t remember ever being interested in Sean before he approached me last week. I had barely noticed him. It was odd to me that my feelings for him were so strong and immediate. But even more odd that, when I thought about it, I couldn’t quite recollect those feelings. They were much stronger when I was with him. Right now, the whole thing with Sean seemed vague and distant.

“It wouldn’t be a worry,” my dad said, interrupting my pondering.

I raised an incredulous eyebrow at him, silently asking ‘Really?’.

He chuckled at my wordless gesture and added, “Seriously, Lizzie. I just want you to be happy. And being a part of everything that comes with being a teenager is very important. I want you to fully enjoy life. You know, this is the beginning of the best years of your life.”

I pursed my lips. Huh? Who would’ve thought? My dad was practically telling me to go out there and be a teenager - with everything it might entail.

“You mean to tell me that I should throw a party at home when you guys are away, invite 50 or so other teenagers, get ridiculously drunk, throw up in the bush somewhere and hook up with some random guy?”

His eyes widened in shock and his head snapped to me so quickly that I burst out in laughter.

“Kidding!” I promised loudly and after another moment of shellshock, my dad joined my laughter.

“Hmph, I hope I didn’t just tell you that,” he said when his laughter ebbed.

I felt happy for the first time in two weeks. I loved this. Loved hanging out with my dad. Loved the unconditional love and not having to analyze and second-guess everything I was saying.

Parents were so much easier to handle than boys.

“Not in so many words,” I smiled. “But…” my smile turned softer as I looked at him with adoration. “…thank you for saying that. I’ll try and live a bit more.”

He opened his mouth to protest, to let me know that he didn’t mean it like that, but I cut him off with, “After this chemistry test.”

He chuckled and returned his attention to the road. “Yeah.”

Anyone who is used to getting up early, before everyone else, instantly recognizes that morning smell in the air. A freshness which is yet untainted by the day to come.

Anyone who is used to getting up early can testament that the smell of fire is not part of that untainted morning smell.

I frowned as the smell made its way into the car, through the ventilation. I surveyed the outside of the car, searching for the cause of the smell and my heart jumped as I saw the thick tower of smoke rising from the center of the city.

“Look,” I whispered and cleared my throat to strengthen it against the building panic, “Dad.”

“I see it,” he answered quietly.

“Where is it coming from?” I asked, a really bad feeling settling in the pit of my stomach. I reached forward and turned off the ventilation, preventing any more strong smoke from reaching us.

“I don’t know,” my dad replied. “Somewhere in the center, I would presume.”

“That’s a lot of smoke,” I said, staring at the cone of smoke.

Both dad and I were hushed in shock as we continued down the main street. I could feel the car accelerating, and I knew without a doubt that my dad was trying to reach the place of the smoke as fast as possible.

After all, we might be the first ones on the site. We might need to help someone.

I shivered and hugged my arms around my upper body. I hated fire. Wild, untamed, dangerous and lethal. It scared me.

But what scared me more than fire ever could was the fact that we were not just directing the car towards the fire, but also towards our home. I was desperately waiting for us to turn, to get off the street that was right then directing us towards The CrashDown, but the fire wanted otherwise.

“No…” I whispered, tears automatically building in my eyes as we rounded the last block before our house.

Our home was on fire.

The thick black smoke was billowing out of cracked windows of the second floor and the bright orange of heated flames lit up the inside of my parents’ bedroom.

I don’t know what was running through my father’s head - if he were as terrified as I - but he brought the car to a panicked stop and I was tumbling out of the car just the fraction of a second thereafter.

My legs felt like jelly as I moved towards the crumbling building. I could feel the heat from where I was, burning the air around me.

“No…” I croaked.

Mom…

“Moom!”


TBC...

Great Chapter!!!!! Please please please please please please please please come back and post more really really really really soon? I can't wait to read what will happen next for Max and Liz. I'm glad that Liz and her father have a good relationship. I like the talk they had. OH NO THE CRASH DOWN! Where is Liz's mom? Is she in side? Did someone save Liz's mom? Who set the fire? Will Liz find out? Will Liz see Max there? Will Max and Liz try to talk? Will Liz stay away from Max? Will Max stay away from Liz? Will Liz see Max everywhere? Will Liz remember what Max made her forget? What will Liz do when she remember? Will Liz confront Max? What will happen when Liz confronts Max? What will Max do? Will Max and Liz kiss? Will Liz go out with Sean again? Will Max be there on date? Will Max and Liz fall for each other? Will Max and Liz admit their feelings? Will Max and Liz get together? Sorry for all the questions I was just wondering. Please please please please please please please please come back and post more really really really really soon? I can't wait to read what will happen next for Max and Liz.

From:
L-J-L 76

Great part! Loved the talk between Liz and her dad!

Okay! I am doing another thought!

There are not only aliens, in Roswell but also Skins... and Sean is one of them... Because Sean mindwarped her, last time she meet him, and it was not for her benefit but for himself... which means that him, to do it to Liz shows that he is a person without scruple!

And the Crash is in fire!!!!!OOHH MYY GOD!!!Definitely the skins...

Thanks EVE

What in H-E-DOUBLE HOCKEY STICKS IS GOING ON?! Where is Nancy? Why is the Crashdown on fire? Get back here!

What in the world is going on? Liz's mom has a mysterious sickness..which doesn't really matter bc she might be dead anyways. Her dad's questioning her personal life on a camping trip that they only stayed at for a day only to come home and her whole house and business burnt down with her mom possibly caught in the fire.
I'm so confused as to where this is all leaving and how crushed Liz is going to be with all of that.

wow, where's Liz's mom?

omg

L-J-L 76 - I'm glad to hear that you like Liz's relationship with her dad. They are close. A lot of the questions you posed will be answered in this part. Thank you for the feedback!
Eve (begonia9508) - Hihi… You keep going strong with your theories And I love you for it! Thank you for the feedback!
Roswelllostcause - I'm back Thank you for the feedback!
AlysLuv - These are confusing times… Maybe the next part will bring you some clarity. Maybe… Thank you for the feedback!
saori_1902 - You'll find out in this chapter. Thank you for leaving feedback!
Natalie36 - Thank you

From ELEVEN:

“No…” I whispered, tears automatically building in my eyes as we rounded the last block before our house.

Our home was on fire.

The thick black smoke was billowing out of cracked windows of the second floor and the bright orange of heated flames lit up the inside of my parents’ bedroom.

I don’t know what was running through my father’s head - if he were as terrified as I - but he brought the car to a panicked stop and I was tumbling out of the car just the fraction of a second thereafter.

My legs felt like jelly as I moved towards the crumbling building. I could feel the heat from where I was, burning the air around me.

“No…” I croaked.

Mom…

“Moom!”
TWELVE

My dad grabbed my upper arm and jerked me sharply backwards. “Liz.”

I stared at the house I’ve grown up in, being devoured by hungry fire, with tears blurring my vision. My whole body was trembling with fear, and panic was racing through my veins.

“No,” I cried and ripped out of his grip. I swirled to look at him and was only momentarily taken aback by the matching fear on his face, before I pointed towards the house and cried, “Is mom in there?”

“I’m gonna call 911,” my dad answered, his voice raspy and unrecognizable.

I found myself frustrated and angry with his reply and I repeated with a tearing sob, “Is she?”

“You need to wait here,” my dad said, still ignoring the question he couldn’t answer. “Don’t go any closer to the house.”

“We have to help her,” I yelled and started towards the house.

My dad’s arms were instantly around my waist and my back was pressed up against his front. His tight embrace broke the small resolve I still had on my feelings and I went limp in his lock, sobbing uncontrollably.

“Baby,” he said against my ear and his voice was surprisingly calm, echoing through my ears as though from a distance. “I’m gonna try and get closer and see if there’s anyone at home, okay? And call 911. But you,” he placed a light kiss on my cheek and I squeezed my eyes tightly shut against the onslaught of love it brought, “need to stay here. Okay?” He slowly released the grip on my body and I struggled to remain standing as he took a step back. “Promise me?”

I looked up at the burning house, watched small pieces of my home fly off in the morning wind as they burnt brightly with ember, and knew that it wasn’t a promise I would be able to keep.

But still, I nodded. “I promise.”

“Stay here,” my dad repeated with emphasis and I nodded again, my eyes glued to my worst nightmare.

I was partially aware of my dad getting into the car to retrieve his cell phone as my eyes landed on the balcony. My balcony. The one that was big enough to be a terrace, situated on top of the dining area of the restaurant below. My eyes moved to the windows of my bedroom, the intact windows of my bedroom. There was no smoke coming from my room; the fire had not reached it. Yet.

Looking at the entrance to our home, to the side of the restaurant, I realized that the small window next to the front door was cracked letting me know that the heat was too great to be confined. Alas, the front door was not a good way in.

But my room was.

I glanced behind me and saw my dad’s back turned towards me, holding the phone to his ear.

The only thing that was going through my mind when I turned my eyes back towards the fire was that I had to save mom. Considering how fast this fire was eating through our house, the fire department would be too late.

I only had a split second to decide what to do, but the promise to my dad was not a difficult one to break.

I took a deep breath and ran. My goal was the ladder going up to my balcony.

I didn’t look back to see if anyone (my dad) was following me. Once I got closer to the house, I couldn’t hear if anyone was following me; the sound of fire munching on organic material was too loud.

I couldn’t tell you how I got up the ladder or into my room, but I suddenly found myself staring at the doorknob separating me from the rest of the house. The smoke was creeping into my room and I was already having trouble breathing.

Coughing, I pulled the hem of my sweater down over my hand (old movie knowledge told me that the knob would be warm) before closing it around the handle. The heat spread through the hem and the lock shivered as I lost the grip, basically propelling the knob out of locked position.

I pushed on the door with my foot and pulled the sweater up to cover my mouth. The black smoke swirled around me, attacking me like a dense wall until it flowed freely around me, greedily seeking the oxygen seeping in from my bedroom.

I started coughing, the smoke obscured my vision and made my eyes tear. I blinked, trying to see where I was. But it was dark. So dark.

“Mom,” I called out, unintentionally opening an entrance for the smoke to my lungs and I coughed violently, my heart freezing in fear as the heat increased around my body.

I felt my way through the TV-room, stumbling against the edge of our armchair, afraid that my hands would encounter the softness of a human body. What if my mom was really here? Lying dead on the floor?

My lungs were aching, I couldn’t see a thing, and I was getting dizzy from the lack of oxygen in the carbon dioxide enriched environment. I was bumping my shins, my knees and my thighs into various pieces of furniture, but I didn’t notice. I was following the heat like a guiding beacon. The saying of you’re getting warmer… had taken on a new meaning.

“Mom,” I croaked. My vocal cords were already suffering the repercussions of inhaling the smoke, and there was no chance in hell that anyone could hear me over the noise of the fire.

I was starting to question what I was doing here.

Maybe mom had already made it out. Maybe she hadn’t even been in the house when the fire had begun.

But still - it was too early in the morning for her to be anywhere else but here.

I stumbled, the oxygen-deprived dizziness increasing. My legs felt heavy, my head was throbbing and I felt like I was breathing acid.

I didn’t have time to react as one of the roof beams cracked, having been partly dissolved by the fire, and fell down on the left side of my body.

The pain was immeasurable. Indescribable. The flames licking the beam hungrily attacked my clothes, ruthlessly ignored the pain from my broken arm underneath and the third degree burns that were already forming where the flames was melting my skin.

“Mom!” I cried out, my heart beating in panic as adrenaline and pain mixed and shot up every nerve ending of my body.

I fell to my side and screamed (but there was no more sound from my smoke-damaged throat) as I tried to extinguish the flames devouring the clothes on the left side of my body with only the palm of my right hand.

I’m gonna die here. I’m gonna die.

Something decided to show me mercy at that moment; instead of being consciously burnt alive, the smoke pushed me into oblivion.

The smell of my own burning flesh was the last thing I remembered.
A terrible hoarse scream, from the deepest pits of agony, pulled me out of my state of unconsciousness.

It hurt.

It hurt. It hurt.

“Jesus. Liz.”

My skin was burning. I was burning.

The scream surrounded me again and if my skin had been capable it would’ve formed goosebumps. But my skin was red and blistered; stripped of its normal functions.

I had yet to open my eyes. I didn’t want to face the scream. My energy was focused on cramping every cell in my body in desperate attempt to fight the pain.

I couldn’t breathe. My lungs hurt, the pain pressed down on my ability to ventilate.

“What were you doing in there?”

I vaguely registered the nausea in that voice beneath the all-consuming fear.

I tried to tighten my fists, my nails scraped against concrete, some breaking in the process.

Concrete.

I felt the wind blow against my face - my burning face - and heard cars in the background.

Outside. I was outside.

I forced my eyes opened and found Max Evans staring down at me. I hitched on my breath at the sight of his burnt face. He was burnt. Was he the one screaming? What had happened to him?

“Liz,” he whispered and I felt the saltiness of my own tears sting my cheeks.

I saw him lift his hands to touch my face, but he stopped just an inch from touching me.

“How could you be so stupid?” he asked, anger in those dark eyes of his. But the fear was still there. Fear about my condition?

What condition was I in exactly? How badly was I hurt?

I was sure every single one of my nerves must’ve been severed to cause so much throbbing, burning and slicing pain throughout my whole body.

“Mom,” I croaked, looking at him desperately.

He looked ready to throw up as he looked at me quietly. “You need to focus on you now.”

“No,” I replied stubbornly and tried to will my body to move. “Mom…needs…my-“

The pain hit me full force and I screamed, my whole body spasming against the pain, as tears paved their way down my cheeks.

His hands gripped my wrists, causing a transitory sharp pain as pressure was applied to my scorched skin, but the pain quickly ebbed, the renewed scream dying on my lips.

“Stay still,” he ordered.

“Find my mom,” I sobbed, my throat aching from every syllable.

“First you,” he answered and I wanted to push him away. Wanted to yell at him for not saving my mom. For wasting his time on me. I was dead anyway. I didn’t want to continue living with the pain, with the damages that had probably been done to my body.

But I had no strength to push him away.

“I hate you,” I whispered, my voice breaking.

He looked at me evenly and said softly, “You can hate me all you want. I’m not letting you die.”

But you’re letting my mom die.

I didn’t have a chance to say it though before he continued, “You need to look at me. Straight into my eyes. Don’t blink.”

My burning lungs were chronically depriving me of oxygen and my thoughts were made increasingly confused and blurry. But I found no trouble obeying him. I was afraid that my body and mind would sink into nothingness if I let go of his eyes.

“Lizzie?”

It was the first time he had called me by my nickname. It made me feel safe. That simple nickname made me put my life in his hands. Quite literally.

“Okay,” I breathed, highly aware of the comfortable pressure of his palms against my wrists. It was the only part of my body that wasn’t hurting.

“Okay,” he agreed and I felt the tremble from his hands against my wrists as he inhaled deeply.

I thought Max Evans always looked at me intently. But, oh, how wrong I’d been. Apparently, there were several degrees to his ability to pour his emotions out of his eyes and into mine. The way he was looking into my eyes was beyond cheesy, beyond romantic, beyond soul-mate stuff. His look was almost primal, burrowing into my very soul and I could feel him falling into me. Blending us together.

My breath hitched.

His hands jumped against my wrists.

I was one hundred percent aware of him leaning over me, of his hands leaving my wrists and brushing up my burnt arms, but I failed to react. His touch against my markedly over-sensitized skin didn’t even hurt. There was another heat spreading in the wake of his hands, a comfortable and soothing heat.

That’s when the images started.


”That’s her, isn’t it?” an 8-year-old Michael asked behind my shoulder.

“Yes,” I replied, following the brown-haired girl with my eyes. She was so pretty.

“She doesn’t look that special,” Michael said casually.

“Dad says she is,” I replied, watching the girl play with a blonde girl on the swings.

“Just because her mom-“

“I think she is,” I interrupted, feeling drawn to the dark-haired beauty. “She’s special.”

Michael snorted behind me and I felt heat creep up my neck as he started singing, “Liz and Max, sitting in a tree. K-I-S-S-I-N-G.”


I gasped, inhaled sharply, my back arching, before another memory that wasn’t mine assaulted me.


”What are you doing?” Liz sobbed, tears glistening in her large brown eyes, as her bottom lip trembled.

I swallowed and felt myself shake with nausea and guilt. What were we doing?

“Dad…” I pleaded.

“Quiet,” my father ordered harshly, putting one collection tube of blood on the table, before retrieving another one off the bed.

“I want mom,” Liz whispered and I took a step towards her fearful figure and dropped to my knees next to her.

Carefully I reached for her hand. She flinched at my intention, but let me take it.

“It’s gonna be okay,” I assured her, my 9-year-old self falling into her frightened eyes.

She chewed on her bottom lip, large tears falling down her cheeks, dripping onto the sheet tucked around her body.

We were in her bedroom, in the middle of the night, intruding.

“Son,” my dad said. “You can do this one.”

I felt myself go cold. No. I didn’t. I didn’t want to be part of this.

My dad sighed impatiently at my hesitancy and, with a glance at my hand grasping Liz’s, ground out in irritation, “You want to help her, right?”

I nodded slowly, her large eyes burning into the side of my neck.

“Then heal her.”

I looked at where the thick needle had punctured Liz’s skin. Liz’s thin light skin was already turning yellow with the first signs of a large bruise around the puncture hole.

It was my ‘job’ to erase the puncture hole and the imminent bruising.

I swallowed nervously and leaned across Liz, placing my palm into the inside of her elbow.


Max’s face swam in front of me. I could see the strain on his face, the sweat droplets tracing the burns on his own face. I could feel the trembles in his hands as he moved them across my body, touching me like no one had ever touched me.

I inhaled sharply, my lungs feeling better, as my vision disappeared and I was propelled into another memory.


”No…”

I looked at the flames licking the outside of the windows and the smoke engulfing the building. And with a sinking heart I saw Liz climb the ladder to her balcony and disappear into her room.

My heart stopped and ice-cold fear spread through my body. My fists tightened against the sides of my body, but I didn’t waste a second on making a decision. Never thought about the risks.

If Liz was going in there, so was I.


He gasped and practically slumped on top of me. I inhaled a deep, painless breath, and tried to collect my feelings and thoughts.

What the hell had just happened?

“Max?” I asked, the heaviness of his body on top of mine worrying me.

He groaned and lifted slightly off me.

“You’re okay,” he stated in a strained whisper.

There was something wrong about his face, about the listlessness of his eyes, about the massive trembles rushing through his body.

I swallowed, “Max?”

He blinked slowly and managed to pull himself up into a seated position.

“You’re okay now,” he repeated with a relieved breath.

I followed his movement, sitting up next to him, and grabbed his hand. “Max, what did you do? What the hell did you do?”

Maybe it was not the right time to interrogate him, but I would bet my hat that Max Evans had just healed me. Brought me back from life-threatening injuries. And I was pretty certain that I had just been able to see into Max’s mind.

Which was insane.

Max looked ready to faint. He tried to pull his hand away, but it shook so badly from exertion that he failed in that regard. I felt my inquisitive nature being muted and my concern for him exponentially increasing.

“Are you okay?” I whispered, wanting to touch his face, run my fingers across his body to look for more injuries. But the burn wounds on his face stopped me. My touch would only hurt him.


He took a shuddering breath, his upper body swaying, “You can’t tell anyone.”

Tell them what? I didn’t even understand what had just happened.

“You don’t look so good,” I said worriedly.

“Call my dad,” Max said faintly, before his eyes rolled back in their sockets and he collapsed against me.


TBC...

Even if I have funny theories, I guess I am not too far away from the truth, which brought me to the fact that Liz may be the fourth alien and at least, she still doesn't know it but Max does...

And he wanted to save her at all costs and Liz's father knews too about Max! I just hope that Liz's mother could escape the fire... Who did this, because I don't believe it was just an accident, but more a way of eliminating someone who knews too much...

Slowly, the story is getting really dangerous for the Roswell population, anyway...

Waiting for more and thanks! EVE