Pathos/Chaos/Terminus (CC/UC/AU,Mature) (Complete)

[JO]

Winner - Round 7





Links to Pathos and Chaos

Pathos

Chaos




many many thanks to nikkisue for the awesome banner

Author: JO
Title: Terminus - Final Installment of the Pathos Trilogy
Category: AU, Future Fic, Post-Departure
Summary: The year is 2022. Lily Parker is still missing and the various inhabitants of Roswell try to move on with their lives.
Rating: MATURE for strong language, violent and sexual situations.
Disclaimer: The characters of Roswell are the property of Twentieth Century Fox Television and Regency Productions. All original characters and concepts are the property of the author. No profit has been made from the distribution of this work of fiction.

Warning: This is a highly emotionally charged fic. There is strong language, violence and sexual situations. There are also Polarist leanings. Continue to read if you dare, but I hope you will because I think it's a great story!


PART ONE
December 2022

Liz Evans dropped the paper sack of groceries on the kitchen table, seven-year-old Seth streaking behind her, headed straight for the t. v. Liz sighed and closed the back door with her booted foot as the sounds of How the Grinch Stole Christmas echoed through the empty house. She moved the groceries to the counter top, for the moment ignoring the answering machine hanging on the wall across from the sink.

She washed her hands to begin lunch for she and Seth but her mind not on lunch; she was thinking about the answering machine that she knew contained no message from Max. Her mind flashed back to their last conversation almost four years earlier as she put a tea kettle on the stove eye to boil, a mixture of anger and sadness running through her.

“Jason Parker! I can’t believe you said that!”

“I’m sorry, Mom,” Jase admitted, shrinking away from her petite stature despite the fact that he was almost a head taller than she was. “I’m going to Michael’s house.”

“Jase, wait,” Max called but the back door slammed signaling Jase’s departure.

“He’s right, you know,” Liz whispered as she turned toward Max. “I’ve done nothing but lie to him his whole life.”

“You did it to protect him, Liz,” Max said, placing his hands on Liz’s shoulders, gently tracing lines on the upper arms. “To protect he and Lily. You were scared.”

“He’s right about Lily, too, Max,” Liz said, stepping out of Max’s semi-embrace. “I love Jase and I love Seth but Lily is my child. I’m her mother. I’m supposed to be the kind of mother every teenage daughter hates. I’m supposed to be there for her whenever she needs me. I’m the one that will love her no matter what. I loved her when no one even knew she existed and now...I want her back.”

“I know you do, Liz. I understand.”

“No, you don’t understand, Max. You have no idea how I feel. You don’t know what it does to me to watch you play with Seth. You and Jase may not see eye to eye right now but at least you get to see him. Lily is still out there. I can’t just sit idly by -”

“You can!”

“I can’t! I can’t lose her, Max. She’s the only daughter I have, the only one I’ll ever have.”

“But Tess -”

“I don’t give a damn about Tess. Don’t you realize that Tess is probably hurting Lily because she’s my child? Tess is probably doing things to her she would have never dreamed of doing to Jase. Look at her, Max,” Liz screamed as she picked up the nearest photograph of Lily, the one that hung by the kitchen table. “She’s me with your eyes. And if Tess is willing to kidnap, she’s willing to harm, acrea or not.” Liz carefully placed Lily’s picture back in its rightful spot. “If it weren’t for Tess none of this would be happening. If we hadn’t found that orb -”

“Liz,” Max began as he tried to pull Liz into his arms.

“Lily is my child, Max, mine,” Liz cried, beating her fists against Max’s chest. “She’s out there and I can’t get to her.”

“What do you want me to do, Liz?”

“I want you to find my daughter and don’t come back until you do.”


“Mom,” Seth said, the hem of her shirt firmly in his fist as he tugged on it, snapping her out of her daydream.

“Seth? What is it?”

“The tea kettle,” Seth replied, pointing to the stove top, the tea kettle expelling steam, its whistle blowing loudly through the kitchen.

“Sorry,” Liz said, picking it up at once and placing it in the sink. She turned off the stove eye and looked back at Seth, who was staring at the series of family pictures that lined the kitchen wall. “What would you like for lunch, sweetie?”

“I don’t know.”

“Sandwich? Spaghetti-Os? You can have whatever you want,” Liz replied softly, running her hand along the back of Seth’s head.

“Don’t be sad, Mom,” Seth said, his voice full of seven-year-old confidence. “They’ll find Lily, then we’ll all be together again.”

“I know,” Liz whispered and sat down at the table, her eyes still focused on her favorite photograph of Jase and Lily from their eighth birthday party. Their twin faces laughing, cake and frosting covering their mouths. “We were in Des Moines that year, or maybe Salt Lake City. I...I can’t remember right now.” Seth wormed his way in between Liz’s body and the table, and wrapped his arms tightly around her neck. “Oh, sweetie. I love you.”

“I’m gonna go watch t. v.”

“Okay. I’ll make you a sandwich.”

[JO]

So Kath7 and her glowing feedback made me want to post again...

Warning: Character death and strong language.

Hope you enjoy! edited to amend this statement -- not that you enjoy the character death and language; just the story

JO

--------

PART TWO

Liz placed the remainder of Seth’s dirty lunch dishes in the sink beside the tea kettle. She could hear him laughing at the Grinch, and wished not for the first time that her entire family was seated around the t. v., enjoying the holiday season together. So many things had changed in her life since she returned to Roswell for a weekend trip to celebrate Maria and Michael’s anniversary. So many families changed forever, all because she had gotten drunk almost eighteen years earlier and she and Max had finally made love.

Liz’s eyes swept to her favorite photograph of Jase and Lily, her eyes misting as memories flooded back to her. They would be eighteen in almost a week - Lily in captivity and Jase roaming the southwest in search of her. Liz wondered if they would pause for a moment to remember the other on that special day. If she wasn’t found before her eighteenth birthday, Liz knew Lily would be lost to her forever. Kivar would pronounce her the acrea and would marry her. Liz dreaded the thought of her only daughter trapped in a loveless marriage simply because of her destiny, the familiar feeling of nausea sweeping through her in response to that word. She didn’t dare allow herself to hope, but she couldn’t allow herself to give up either. Max, Absalom and Jase would be successful, there was simply no alternative in Liz’s mind, and Seth would finally get to meet his sister instead of merely hearing stories about her. Tears misted in her eyes and Liz slowly stood from the table, knowing her attention was better served elsewhere, when the back door swung open.

“Liz! Liz!” Evan appeared in the threshold, out of breath, the fringes of his hair damp with sweat.

“Evan? What’s wrong? Is it Nina or Livvie?”

“They went to the mall with Larissa,” he sighed, bending at the waist to catch his breath. “It’s Dad.”

“Where is he,” Liz asked as she grabbed her leather coat from the back of the chair.

“He’s at home. I...I couldn’t move him.”

“You came all this way by yourself?” Evan nodded, stepping around her toward the kitchen sink to get a glass of water. “Okay. Stay here with Seth and I’ll go to your house. If I’m not back in an hour, bring Seth with you. You know the drill.”

“Okay.”

“One hour, Evan,” Liz cautioned as she opened the door, her purse and keys firmly in her hands.

“Got it. We’ll be safe here.”

With one parting glance, Liz watched Evan disappear into the living room, Seth’s laughter filling the house once he realized Evan was there. She offered a small smile to herself and closed the door behind her, securing it as she headed to her car.

* * *

“Michael,” Liz called as she pulled her keys out of the front door of the old Valenti home. Michael and the kids had lived there for almost four years and although Liz had been a visitor thousands of times, her mind was instantly drawn back to the night she had offered Tess her help to win Max. Shaking her head, she closed the door behind her and pushed the memory out of her mind, almost as if she were closing that chapter of her life which had gone so horribly wrong.

The house had not changed much in the twenty-some odd years she had been visiting it: a green print wallpaper lined the hallway into the kitchen, dust floated aimlessly throughout, and there was a distinct impression that a man lived there, despite Amy’s and now Larissa’s attempts at femininity. She stopped to admire a photograph of the Guerin family and remembered one of the most horrible moments of her life – Maria’s memorial.


Liz rested the majority of her weight on Max’s body, Jase carrying Seth, Absalom bringing up the rear of their motley crew. They each looked war-torn, but none more so than Liz. She remembered very little after her confrontation with Nicholas and almost nothing about the journey back to Roswell. When she was finally able to get out of bed, Max had told her Michael had found Maria’s body outside the Valenti garage behind the set of trash cans. He had thankfully spared Liz the details of Maria’s appearance, and the ultimate blow, an injury to her heart, that had killed her best friend.

Without her signal, Jase and Absalom took Seth and went into the living room where Larissa and Maria’s children huddled in front of the t.v. Kyle and Isabel caught her attention immediately as they stood in the kitchen beside the refrigerator, and the adults made their way to the back of the house. Liz thought it sad that Maria’s mourners were already assembled, no one else in Roswell would miss her.

Max released her, depositing her into the nearest chair as they stepped inside the darkened bedroom, Michael’s form visible on the bed. “If you want me to take Larissa and the kids for a few -”

“You can’t even take care of yourself, Liz,” Michael growled, rolling onto his back as Kyle shut the bedroom door, the five adults secured into the small bedroom. “How are you going to take care of my kids?” Michael reached for a half-empty bottle of Crown sitting on the night stand beside the bed and took several long gulps, draining it then showing the empty bottle to Max, Liz, Isabel and Kyle.

“Liz is just trying to help, Michael,” Max cautioned, glancing at Liz, not surprised to see tears trickling down her cheeks. “There’s no reason to attack her.”

“That’s right,” Michael agreed as he almost jumped to his feet. “I shouldn’t be attacking Liz. I should be attacking you. If you could have just kept your fucking dick in your pants, none of this would be happening. Liz would be able to have more children. Jase wouldn’t be pissed at you. Lily would be with her family. Maria would be alive. So, yeah, I’ll blame you, Maxwell.”

“We all lost Maria,” Kyle faintly replied. “We all loved her and we are all going to miss her.”

“But she wasn’t your wife, was she? You’ve got Isabel to reproduce with.”

“You’ve got to be strong for your children, Michael,” Liz countered. “They’re Maria’s children too and now they’ll need you more than ever.”

“Thanks for the update, Captain Obvious.”

“None of us asked for this,” Isabel said, stepping between Michael and the bedroom door. “But you’ve got to move on. Drowning your sorrows isn’t helping anyone.”

“You don’t mean to tell me that you aren’t still a little pissed, Isabel? You lost your mother, your son and your husband because of who we are.”

“Don’t do this, Michael,” Isabel cautioned, her voice quivering with emotion. Kyle placed his hand on her shoulder in a comforting gesture. “Don’t bring old memories into this. This is about you.”

“We are who we are, Iz. I should have been here protecting my family instead of chasing ghosts.”

“Lily is not dead, Michael,” Liz cried, slowly pulling herself to her feet. “I would know it. I would feel it.”

“Whatever, Liz. Keep living in your dreamworld and I’ll keep living in mine. Now all of you get the fuck out of my house.”


She stepped just inside the living room and saw Michael’s legs thrown awkwardly over the back of the couch. “Michael,” Liz said, dropping her purse, jacket and keys in the hallway, taking as large steps as she could to reach the couch. As she rounded the left side of the couch, the familiar images of the Grinch caught her eye, the television’s reflection bouncing off the darkened room and Michael’s seemingly unconscious form. “God, Michael,” Liz breathed, burrowing both her hands underneath Michael’s armpits, his body cascading down the couch almost into the floor, saved only because his legs were hooked. She dropped to her knees and pushed upward with all her might, relieved when Michael made a snore-like noise as his right shoulder connected with the arm of the couch in her attempt to get him off the floor.

Unable to push him any farther and almost out of breath from exerting herself, Liz walked to the back of the couch and bent over it, grabbing the collar of Michael’s shirt. She rocked forward, her chin almost on Michael’s stomach, her legs high in the air and used her momentum to pull Michael into an upright, albeit slouched, position. She rocked up and down two more times, Michael almost upright on the third attempt when something in the equation shifted and she flew over the couch and landed onto the floor in front of the t. v. Before she could right herself, Michael’s heavy bulk was on top of her, his mouth at her left earlobe and his hand looming dangerously close to her right breast. Her body went rigid as she smelled the alcohol from Michael’s breath, his hand fully cupping her. “Michael,” she began but her protest was futile as Michael’s mouth covered hers, his breath a healthy mixture of several types of alcohols. He ground against her, pressing her so hard into the floor, she thought her back would break.

Placing both her hands to his chest, Liz began to squirm against him, desperate to make Michael come to his senses without resulting to severe physical pain. Rapid fire flashes of Maria passed to her as Michael claimed her mouth again and Liz struggled against his weight. Calming herself enough to summon her underdeveloped powers, a modest output of heat shot through her hands to Michael’s chest, just enough to confuse Michael’s senses so he raised off her, partially pinning her at the hips. When she realized he was not going to move any further, Liz grabbed the empty Jack Daniels bottle with her left hand and smashed it across the back of Michael’s head, covering her face with her right hand as shards of glass rained on top of them. Michael shot a questioning look at her after he grabbed his head, blood from the gash on his ear trickling onto his shoulder. “Liz? What are you doing here?”

“You’re drunk again, Michael, and you’re bleeding.” She rolled out from underneath him and placed her hand on top of the bloody gash, partially healing the injury she had caused. “I’ll help you to the bathroom.”

[JO]

PART THREE

Michael stumbled to his feet, and using Liz’s slight frame as support, he lumbered toward the bathroom. He and Liz had performed this act many times since Maria’s untimely death four years earlier: he the depressed drunk and she his savior. His hand accidentally grazed her breast again, causing Liz to halt her forward progress for a moment, Michael’s body almost torn apart by which direction to go, either with Liz or toward the bathroom. “You’ve got to stop that,” Liz cautioned as they continued forward, the bathroom several steps away.

“Stop what,” Michael asked, his voice deep and cottony. He cleared his throat for good measure as he released Liz and placed his hands on either side of the bathroom door casing.

“Stop...touching me. I’m married to Max. I love Max. We...you can’t keep doing this.”

“Doing what?”

“God, Michael,” Liz sighed in frustration, shoving Michael fully clothed into the shower stall. “I loved Maria too. You can’t keep doing this to yourself. You have children, responsibilities.” She paused to glare at him and turned on the cold nozzle when it became apparent Michael was not planning on doing it himself. “I can’t keep watching you do this.” She pulled her arm out of the shower as it flickered to life but Michael’s reflexes, even while drunk, were too quick.

“Please, Liz. I need you.” He stepped into the spray, allowing the water to stream down his face. He brought Liz’s hand to his mouth and tenderly kissed her palm.

“Michael.”

“Max has been gone for four years, Liz. You haven’t even heard from him. Good husbands don’t do that to their wives.” Michael blinked as water collected on his eyelashes, the tone of his voice almost normal and surprisingly not accusatory.

“Don’t say he’s dead,” Liz whispered over the roar of the shower. “He’s not dead. I would know it. I would feel it.” She shrank away from Michael’s hungry stare but Michael would not release her hand. “I sent him away, Michael. I gave him an ultimatum. Good wives don’t do that to their husbands.” She raised her eyes at Michael momentarily. “I can’t do this. We can’t do this.”

“I know you think about it, Liz,” Michael pleaded, his voice cracking with emotion. “I think about it, too. I don’t mean to. One minute I’m thinking about Maria and the next minute, you’re what I want.”

“Don’t say that,” Liz replied with tears pooling in her eyes. “We would hurt so many people.”

“My children love you,” Michael insisted, pulling Liz further into the shower stall, water dripping onto her right shoulder and down her right arm.

“And I love them.”

“Then nothing is stopping us,” Michael admitted, pulling Liz squarely under the cold spray, her dark curly hair cascading down her shoulders, straightening as if by magic the moment the water hit it.

Liz closed her eyes as Michael tenderly cupped her face, his calloused thumbs lovingly caressing her cheeks. An image of Max holding her in a similar fashion flashed through her mind and Liz extended her left hand to Michael for his inspection just as she felt his fingertips push open the first button of her shirt, exposing the delicate skin of her throat to him. She glanced at him, his eyes trained on the silver wedding band glistening with water and she stepped out of the shower, closing the door behind her.

* * *

Larissa stepped into the back door, almost blinded by the brightness in the house. She froze, knowing something had to be wrong for the house to be so bright. Five-year-old Nina clutched at her back pockets and Larissa signaled both Livvie and Nina to be quiet as the three of them moved through the hallway to the kitchen. Larissa pressed her nieces against the wall and cautiously stuck her head around the corner, expecting to find one of her many enemies but surprised to see Liz working feverishly at the sink, her wet hair pulled back in a ponytail. “Liz?”

Liz dropped the knife and potato into the sink when Larissa called her name, and she wiped her eyes with the backs of her hands as she turned around. “Hi, Larissa. You startled me. I’m making a casserole.”

“Liz,” Nina screamed as she and Livvie ran from the hallway into the kitchen, their arms outstretched. Liz dropped to her knees just in time to catch the two girls. “You’re all wet,” Nina remarked just as Michael appeared in the kitchen, a towel across his shoulders, his hair wet. Liz kissed both Nina and Livvie and stood up from the kitchen floor, turning her back to Michael. Larissa glanced back and forth between the two adults, the tension between them too obvious to ignore.

“Daddy,” Nina called and she ran at Michael, hugging him tightly around the knees as she stood on his feet.

“Do you need any help,” Michael asked Liz, picking Nina up into his arms as he stepped further into the kitchen.

“No,” Liz replied, her voice clipped and low. “I think I’ve got it. Evan and Seth should be here soon. Seth and I will leave once they get here.”

“You can stay,” Michael whispered, dropping Nina to the floor as he placed his hand on the small of Liz’s back. Liz rammed her elbow into his stomach and Michael glanced over his shoulder at Larissa, whose mouth was open in shock as she watched Michael and Liz’s interaction. Michael stepped away from Liz at once, pulling a lock of his wet hair firmly behind his ear. “Larissa, will you get some plates out of the cabinet for lunch? We’ll eat Liz’s casserole as soon as it’s done.” Larissa nodded wordlessly, walking to the cabinets and removed five plates. “I want you to stay,” he replied as he left the kitchen, Evan and Seth making their entrance into the house known, and Larissa watched as Liz’s shoulders sagged forward momentarily before she began to peel the potato again.

“Mrs. Evans,” Larissa began but Liz silenced her with a slight laugh.

“Please, Larissa, call me Liz. Max’s mom was Mrs. Evans.” Liz returned to the potato, turning her back to Larissa while Larissa began to set the table.

“Liz, can I...ask you a question?”

“Of course.”

“Well, um, Liz, are you and, um, Michael having an affair?” Liz spun on her heels, the dropped knife clanging into the sink. “Michael is my brother-in-law,” Larissa continued, wildly avoiding Liz’s eyes as she skirted around the issue she had brought up. “And I love him and his kids and Maria loved him and you’re still married to Max and -”


“First of all,” Liz calmly began, the tone of her voice forcing Larissa to actually look at her, “Whatever relationship Michael and I have has no bearing on our feelings for Max or Maria. Second, Michael and I are both adults. As adults, if we choose to have a relationship, it is certainly no business of yours. This is the first and last time we will ever have this conversation. Is that understood?”

Larissa nodded her head up and down twice as Liz turned toward the sink to continue her preparations for dinner. Larissa quickly set out the remaining plates and left the room.

[JO]

PART FOUR

He ran his fingers through her long, ash blonde tresses, inhaling the clean smell of her. Two years was too long to be without her, Jase decided, and vowed that he would find Lily soon just so he could get back to her. When he and Absalom had left, she had pulled him aside and gently pressed her lips to his. It had been his first kiss, and even now when part of his brain knew that he was asleep, his body stirred in response to the memory. He remembered the swell of her breasts pressing against his chest, the curve of her hips, and he knew that he would love no other as he loved her. He would make her his lover when he returned to Roswell, and when they were old enough, he would make Larissa Valenti his wife.

He turned toward her as she lay against him on the blanket, her fingers tracing swirls on his bare chest while he fisted his fingers in her hair. “I love you, Larissa,” he sighed, placing a chaste kiss on her forehead.

“And I love you, Jase.”

“No matter what happens, I don’t want you to forget that,” he cautioned as she rolled on top of him, her mouth dripping feather-light kisses across his face. “It’s you. It’s always been you.”

“I know,” she replied and Jase’s body stiffened as he felt her fingers reach for the zipper of his blue jeans. “It’s okay, Jase,” she assured him as a ringing penetrated his brain. “We’re together. We can be together like this.”

“No,” Jase said and her kisses became more forceful and harsh, her sandy blonde hair turning to platinum blonde before his eyes. “No.” He shoved her away, tightly closing his eyes as his hands rested on her bare shoulders. “I can’t.”

“You can,” she urged and Jase gasp as he felt her bare breasts fill both of this hands. “You want me, Jase. I know you do. I want you to have what you want. I can give you everything you’ve ever wanted.” Jase opened his eyes when he felt her naked thighs rub against his stomach. Straddling him, her nubile body devoid of any clothing and in obvious enjoyment of Jase’s hand placement, was Morgana where Larissa should have been.

Jase pushed her away as if her skin burned him and was surprised to hear Morgana laugh, her blonde curls sweeping over her breasts as she crawled back across the blanket toward his own shirtless form. “Where’s Larissa?”

“You don’t want Larissa,” Morgana purred, attaching herself to Jase’s lap once again, crushing her body against his. Jase shook his head, his mind once again plagued by a ringing sound.

“I do. I want Larissa. Larissa!”

Jase lurched forward, his breath quick and short, his heart pounding in his chest, his cell phone ring cutting through the silence of the desert. He crawled out of the sleeping bag and reached for his back pack, his cell phone buried deep in the front pocket. “Hello,” he said, his voice low, his breath coming easier now.

“Jase,” she whispered, and Jase felt tears mist in his eyes as he crawled back to the sleeping bag. Absalom was not in sight, Jase silently praying he and Meran were developing strategy elsewhere to allow himself a moment alone with Larissa. Telephone calls were rare, especially ones from her, and Jase instantly wondered if something was wrong.

“What’s wrong? Are you hurt? Is it Mom or Seth?”

“No, no. We’re all fine. I...I wanted to tell you something...about your mom.”

“She’s okay, isn’t she? You wouldn’t lie to me, would you, Larissa? If she’s sick or...or hurt, I...I want to know.”

“I think she’s having an affair,” Larissa’s whispered reply echoed through the phone. Jase almost dropped his cell phone onto the desert floor as the implications of Larissa’s statement hit his brain. To his knowledge, his mother had loved no other man except his father. Of course, he couldn’t be entirely certain of that because his mother had lied to protect both he and Lily, and his father’s deception about his past relationship with Tess Harding still plagued him. “Did you hear me? I...I can’t talk too loud.”

“Why do you think that? Who could my mother possibly have an affair with?”

“I think it’s Michael.”

“Michael,” Jase asked, his voice cracking in ways it hadn’t since he had entered puberty. He stood up from the sleeping bag, the need to pace that he had inherited from his father bubbling to the surface. “Michael Guerin?”

“Yes. I mean, I think so.”

“Why....how is that even possible,” Jase asked, the mid-afternoon sun high in the sky, burning his back through his cotton t-shirt.


“I...I don’t know. They were just...looking at each other funny. And Liz’s hair was wet and so was Michael’s, like they’d been in the shower toget -”

“No, Rissa, please,” Jase interrupted, trying to block the mental image of his mother in the shower with his father’s oldest friend. “Has my dad called?”

“I don’t think so.”

“I...I can’t believe this.”

“I’m sorry,” Larissa admitted and Jase could only imagine how she must feel. “I...I just thought you should know.”

“No, I’m glad you called me. I’ve been thinking about you.”

“I’ve been thinking about you too. I can’t wait until you finally come home. Maybe we can go to the prom together.”

“Maybe,” Jase agreed, a small smile forming as he imagined Larissa, picture perfect in a prom dress, waiting for him. His mind quickly began to imagine what Larissa would be wearing underneath the prom dress, and if he could control his hormones long enough to give her a wonderful senior prom.

“Maybe,” Larissa whispered and Jase could tell she was smiling too. “Maybe we could just go out to the desert and skip the prom altogether.”

“Maybe,” Jase agreed again, the ache in the pit of his stomach flaring, his heart beating faster. “I love you,” he choked out, suddenly feeling the need to tell her he loved her while he had impure thoughts about her.

‘Me too, Jase Parker. I’ve gotta go now.”

“Bye,” he whispered despite the fact he was all alone in the middle of the desert but there was no reply on the other end of the phone. He fell onto the top of his sleeping bag, his face toward the sun and allowed his adult thoughts of Larissa to take over until Absalom and Meran returned.

[JO]

PART FIVE

Absalom wiped his brow with his forearm, sweat beading on his body despite the cool December weather. He glanced over his shoulder at Meran, his body low and his shoulders hunched forward in meditation. Absalom looked at the sports watch Liz had given him for Christmas almost two years earlier, his last Christmas in Roswell. The watch had not stopped despite the daily abuse it took and Absalom liked to imagine it ran on hope instead of battery power because just like his watch, Absalom had run on hope, not stopping his search for Lily in the two years since he, Jase and Meran had left Roswell.

The West Texas sun beat down upon his shoulders, burning him through his thin t-shirt and Absalom sighed, wishing Meran would for once be in a hurry. He carefully rolled the blue and silver bracelet around his right wrist as he shifted his weight from left to right. It was identical to the bracelet that ten-year-old Lily had let him roll between his fingers the night Liz had tried to rescue both of her children from Kivar’s Copper Summit compound. It was also identical to the bracelet Absalom had found the previous year buried in the rubble of an old office building in Clovis where he, Max and Jase had tracked Kivar to his last known whereabouts. That bracelet remained safely in his front pocket, a constant reminder at how close they had been to Lily, its duplicate always around his right wrist, just as Lily’s had been.

“There is nothing,” Meran replied, startling Absalom from his thoughts. Absalom spun toward his self-designated advisor, his hands deep into his front pockets.

“Nothing? Not even a flash?”

“Nothing. If Kivar and Lily had been here, my boy, I would have felt it.”

“What about Tristan or Morgana or my mother? Any impressions about them?” The previous year when Absalom had found Lily’s childhood bracelet, he had received one flash before all sensations were lost forever.

No one will ever harm you, Lily. I’ll protect you with my life until I die.

It had been his father’s voice that flashed through his mind with no impressions from Tristan, Morgana or his mother. He and Jase had spent the following days after Max’s abrupt disappearance from their camp hypothesizing the reasons Kivar and Lily would be alone but none of their ideas had been solid. Despite his father’s reputation for anger, Absalom had thoroughly believed, and believed it still, that his father would not hurt Lily, that he would protect her with his life. It sickened him to imagine his father taking pleasure in Lily’s trusting nature and innocence, especially now that he knew she was the acrea and it was her destiny to bear a child of peace, but he was thankful she hadn’t remained in the care of either Tristan or his mother.

“I felt none of them. I would imagine Kivar has taken Lily and escaped with her.”

“Why do you think he would do that, Meran? Out here, he doesn’t have any allies or guards to protect him.”

“Perhaps his sanctuary became contaminated by those wishing to advance their own causes,” Meran replied pointedly, and Absalom nodded in understanding as they began walking back toward their camp. There were many serpents surrounding Kivar’s throne, Absalom quickly thanked Meran’s gods that Kivar seemingly cared so much for Lily. “We will find her, my boy. I feel we are close.”

“Why do you think that? You said you didn’t get any kind of flash.”

“And I did not,” Meran’s voice boomed, putting any doubt Absalom had to rest at once. “It is just a feeling in my old bones. There are still many battles to be fought. We will not come through the fire unscathed.”

“But we will win, won’t we? Isn’t that my destiny?”

“Yes, it is your destiny, Absalom, but there are many who stand to loose. We cannot forget what we do effects everyone, whether they know it or not. Perhaps Jase will have better success.”

“In what?”

“Connecting with Lily. Twins have a mystical connection, my boy, and Max Evans’ children are no different. In fact, their connection should be more powerful because of who they are.”

“But we’ve already tried that. Jase wasn’t able to connect with Lily.”

“There is more at stake now, especially for Jase.”

“What do you mean?”

Meran’s green-gray eyes squinted in question, his lips pursed in thought. “I thought Tess taught you to read people and their thoughts.”

“She did,” Absalom admitted sheepishly, their camp in sight. “I haven’t used that ability in a long time.”

“You should,” Meran replied, a smirk forming on his wrinkled lips. “If you did, you would know Jase Parker is in love.”

“With who,” Absalom asked, confusion etched on his features, his voice rising an octave.

“Larissa Valenti. Jase wants to find Lily to get back to Larissa.”

“He never told me that,” Absalom said, stepping over a cactus plant that marked the edge of their camp. He scratched his left shoulder, the raised brand of the Whirlwind Galaxy recognizable underneath his fingertips. He and Jase had decided to brand themselves the previous year after Max had disappeared from Clovis as a sign of solidarity. They had constructed a metal brand with the whirlwind symbol on it, identical to the symbol on Liz’s black pendant, and took turns branding each other’s left shoulder. Absalom felt a brotherly kinship with Jase that he had never felt with Tristan; their twin brands a symbol not only of their heritage but also their trust in each other.

“I would imagine Jase has many secrets,” Meran replied, the implication of his remark stopping Absalom in his tracks just as Jase appeared at the edge of their camp, a bright smile on his face.

* * *

She ran her fingers along his chiseled chest, her long tresses teasing his face as she moved up and down on top of him. His hands latched onto her thighs and slowly worked their way up her body as their rhythm increased. He sat up so their chests touched, their bodies still entwined, the salty taste of her sweat lingering on his mouth as she pulled away from him.

“Oh no,” Jase replied, his voice playful and hungry at the same time as he nipped at her neck with his teeth. “Were are you going?”

“Wherever you go.”

“Good answer,” he growled, his hands snaking around her back, pulling their bodies as close together as possible.

“Jase,” she sighed, their rhythm increasing, urging them toward completion. She smiled at him and Jase pushed her hair back from her face as their rhythm accelerated, his own release very near, revealing her icy blue eyes.

“No,” Jase screamed, propelling himself forward, the desert sky above him lit only by the stars. His lungs rattled in his chest and his heart beat violently, hammering a pulse he had never felt before.

“Relax,” Meran whispered as he appeared on Jase’s right side, an orange glow cutting into the darkness. Jase instinctively threw his hand between he and Meran, the green luminescence of his shield reflecting off Meran’s face. “You must remain calm when the dreams come.”

“How...how do you know about the dreams,” Jase questioned, stealing a quick glance at Absalom less than five yards away from him, seemingly still asleep.

“Your destiny was written long before your were born. You are your father’s son, Jase Parker.”

“I am not my father’s son. I’m nothing like him,” Jase argued as he settled back into his sleeping bag. “And I don’t have a destiny like Lily or Ab. I make my own.”

“History always repeats itself, and you and your father will soon have very much in common, I fear.”

[JO]

Cinder: Actually, Morgana didn't kill Maria; she just threatened her. Everyone will see who's really in charge at Kivar's compound in Part 7.

Edited -- High 'ick' factor: This is a Tristan/Morgana section. Interesting things happen but if you can't read it, I understand. PM me and I'll try to give you a synopsis.

JO

----------

PART SIX

“Jase,” Morgana sighed, her head falling forward, resting on Tristan’s left shoulder as his hands swept down her back to her waist.

“What did you say,” Tristan growled, shoving Morgana onto the cold floor. She landed with a thud but despite her nudity, she made no attempt to cover herself as she sat up, Tristan already on his feet, wrapping a sheet around his waist. “You were thinking about Jase Parker?”

“You told me to get inside his mind.”

“Yes, inside his mind, not his pants.”

“If Jase Parker is anything like you,” Morgana argued, standing to her feet at the side of the bed, “there isn’t a difference.”

Tristan flung his arm at her, his palm outstretched and Morgana flew through the air, her back crashing against the opposite wall of Tristan’s small bedroom. Before Morgana could right herself, Tristan was upon her, his hand firmly around her neck, pulling her to her feet. “You forget who you’re talking to. It would do you well to remember.” Despite his fierce grip on her throat, Morgana managed a laugh. She kicked her legs at him, easily hitting their intended target, and Tristan fell to the floor, clutching his groin.

“It’s you who forgets, Tristan,” she counted, her hand gingerly around her own throat as Tristan continued to wallow on the ground. “I was the one that learned the locations of Kivar’s other bases. I was the one that climbed into bed with those that could provide me with information. I willing turned to Paj and allowed him to do anything to me that he desired!”

“And I’m sure he enjoyed you, but you are mine. You do what I tell you to do.”

“You can’t control me,” Morgana said and stepped over Tristan’s legs toward his bedroom door. Tristan, however, had other ideas and kicked Morgana’s legs out from under her, causing her to fall onto the floor once again. Morgana fought against Tristan’s advance, but he was too strong and easily pinned her to the floor, her right arm twisted behind her back as she lay on her stomach.

“I can control you, Morgana. I will control you until the day I die.” He lowered his lips to her neck, kissing her softly while she struggled underneath him.

“Then I’ll just have to kill you.”

“If only it were that easy,” Tristan mused. “You’ll have to stand in line and I’d imagine there’s a pretty long line.”

“I’ll be the first in that line,” Morgana countered, placing her free hand onto Tristan’s backside, sending hot pulses into his body. He pushed away from her, she rolling forward and he going backward as she scrambled to her feet. “Maybe I’ll kill you right now.”

“Remember who you’re talking to, Morg,” Tristan said, his voice shaking as the sheet rode low on his hips. “I...I saved you. I helped you when you couldn’t turn to anyone else. I stood by you. I loved you.”

“But you made me your whore,” she screamed, bolts of blue light flashing out of her palms toward the floor, tiny shards of concrete scattering as the pulses hit, creating crevices in the floor. “I would have done anything for you, and you made me what I am now. Absalom wouldn’t have treated me this way. He wouldn’t have asked me to do the things you’ve asked me to do.”

“Morg, please,” Tristan whispered as he stepped toward her, the two edges of the sheet knotted in his fist. “Don’t bring him into this. He turned against us, our cause, our birthright. He betrayed us.” When he reached her, Tristan ran his fingers gently down the sides of her face, brushing her blonde tresses off her shoulders so he could see admire her body with no obstructions. He eagerly pressed his naked hips against Morgana’s lower stomach. “When we find Lily, you’ll be the queen, Morg. Lily will be the whore and you’ll be the queen.” He captured her lips with his and wrapped her legs around his waist, walking them toward his bed.

“Jase will find her first,” Morgana whispered as Tristan dropped her onto the bed, penetrating her immediately. “He and Absalom will win.”

“Where is Jase Parker right now?”

Morgana closed her eyes in concentration, pushing her way into Jase’s mind. The answer came to her instantly. “He’s in West Texas. Odessa.” She closed her eyes again as Tristan’s full weight crashed onto her and sent Jase a mental image of she and he, their bodies slick with sweat and connected in ways only lovers knew.

“Could you find him?”

“Yes,” she whispered. Since her fourteenth birthday, Jase Parker had haunted her dreams. Each year, as her own powers had become stronger, she in turn had begun haunting his, and each year, the dreams had grown more powerful and more life-like. If she concentrated hard enough, Morgana suspected she could almost project herself into Jase’s arms.

“Then we’ll find him, and he’ll lead us to Lily and Kivar.”

[JO]

Author's Note: I decided to post a little early. I hope you all enjoy the newest installment. Happy Mother's Day to all the RosMoms out there!!

JO

----------


PART SEVEN

Tess Harding stood transfixed in front of the fifteen-inch black and white television set watching her eldest son and only daughter engage in sexual activity. Her mouth contorted in a grimace as Tristan pushed Morgana to the floor and she closed her eyes when it became obvious that Morgana was not going to cover up her nudity. She pursed her lips in thought, Tristan and Morgana’s voices amplified through the headset provided to her by the guard.

“You told me to get inside his mind.”

“Yes, inside his mind, not his pants.”

“If Jase Parker is anything like you, there isn’t a difference.”

She glanced at the partially open door and signaled the guard to enter, shielding Morgana as much as she could with one hand as she pulled the headset away from her ears with the other. The guard rushed to her side and Tess cleared her throat before speaking to him. “How long have they been...involved?”

“I really can’t say,” the guard admitted, his pallor yellowing as he continued to talk to her. “It’s common knowledge.”

“Common knowledge,” Tess shrieked. “Whose common knowledge? Was Kivar aware because I can assure you I was not.” She pushed the headset to her ears again, Morgana’s body flying across the room catching her eye during her outburst, and she thinned her lips, waiting for the next brick to fall.

“I was the one that learned the locations of Kivar’s other bases. I was the one that climbed into bed with those that could provide me with information. I willing turned to Paj and allowed him to do anything to me that he desired!”

Tess shuddered and quickly turned the monitor off. She felt bile creeping up her throat and gagged reflexively, unable to control herself. The guard, Biva, was at her side instantly, his hands bracing her shoulders for the nausea that did not come. “Thank you,” she said, extracting herself from his grip and walking to the small refrigerator in the corner of her room. She took a bottle of water from the door and emptied the contents quickly, willing herself to remain calm. Turning back to Biva, she placed the empty bottle on her small bed. “Have you ever...”

“With Morgana,” Biva asked, interrupting Tess when it became obvious she could not finish her question. Tess nodded, closing her eyes. “No, but there are several I know who have. One claims to have gotten her pregnant a few years ago.”

“Pregnant?”

“There was never a baby so,” Biva trailed off, glancing at the ground.

“How many years ago was that?”

“Almost four.” Tess gasp, drawing her hand to her mouth, turning away from Biva as she tried to regain her composure. “There are many rumors about Morgana. Men like to talk.”

“Bring her to me in an hour,” Tess ordered, her blue eyes bright and clear when she turned toward Biva. “I don’t care what you have to do, just bring her here. If you don’t, I’ll kill you myself.”

* * *

Morgana walked with bare feet down the halls of Kivar’s Albuquerque base, following Biva as he lead her to her mother’s floor, her black linen pants dragging against the tile. The old office building had six floors and Tess maintained the entire top floor as her domain. “What does my mother want? Do you know?”

“She knows.”

“Knows what,” Morgana insisted, grabbing Biva’s upper arm. Biva spun toward her and Morgana smiled wickedly at him. “Knows about you and me?”

“She knows about you and your brother,” Biva responded, an agitated edge to his voice as he jerked his arm out of her grasp. “Everyone knows about you and your brother.”

“No one knows the truth,” Morgana countered, defiantly tipping her nose upward, brushing past Biva.

“There are cameras, Morgana,” Biva said, his shoulders slouching forward. He stopped their progress five doors away from Tess’ bedroom door. “I told Tess the truth.”

“How dare you,” Morgana shrieked, slapping Biva across the shoulder. Before she could land another blow, Biva grabbed her wrist and squeezed until she relented. “I could have fixed it. I could have told her anything. She would have believed me.”

“She saw it with her own eyes.”

“What?” Morgana’s blue eyes widened and her brows furrowed. It was the first time in almost five years that Biva had seen her actually look afraid.

“She saw you and Tristan together. She watched,” Biva continued as Morgana slumped onto the floor, her blue eyes filling with tears.

* * *

“Morgana is powerful, Tess. There is no mistaking that.” Paj sat in Tess’ favorite high-back chair, his slender fingers linked together underneath his chin in mock thought. Tess sat on the matching ottoman, looking demure and almost plain in a black sweat and khaki pants. “She is very much like you when you first joined with Kivar.”

“I first joined with Kivar a million years ago and in a different lifetime, Paj,” Tess stated, never taking her eyes off of Paj’s face.

“Morgana has the same powers you possess, the same abilities Kivar once needed. Have you searched within her mind? She could be easily swayed away from Tristan’s control.”

“By whom? You?”

“Yes,” Paj replied, extending his hand outward, lightly tracing his fingertips down Tess” forearm. “I have been quite profitable in acquiring allies to Kivar’s cause, as you well remember, I’m sure.”

“Kivar’s cause is now Lily Parker,” Tess snapped, flinging Paj’s touch away as if it had burned her, standing up from the ottoman. “We both know she is the acrea and that is why Kivar left with her.”

“Morgana is in love with Jase Parker,” Paj said and Tess tried to hide her shock at his announcement, Paj continued as if he hadn’t noticed. “She could solidify a connection to him. Jase and Absalom will be the first to find Lily. We both know that. If Morgana can get that information from Jase, we can take our revenge on Kivar.”

“Why would you want to harm Kivar? You were his most trusted advisor. He gave you the power you always wanted.”

“But he took that power away when he deserted us.”

Tess exhaled loudly, tossing a loose strand of curls over her shoulder. “What is your price, Paj? We both know there is always a price.”

“I’d forgotten how well you knew me, sweet Tess,” he replied with a laugh and Tess heavily rolled her eyes, stepping further away from him. “My price is simple. I want one thing in exchange for my total destruction of Kivar.”

“Only one?” Tess laughed and Paj glared at her.

“I want Morgana.”

“What? No. I will not whore my daughter just to ensure Kivar’s death. No,” Tess vehemently replied again in case Paj had missed her original denial. “She is not an option.”

“Kivar will die regardless, whether it be by my hand or Tristan’s. You are probably not aware that Tristan plans to kill Kivar and claim Lily Parker when she reaches her majority.”

“Who would have convinced him to do that,” Tess shrieked.

“I did, of course. Just like I convinced him to kill Michael Guerin’s wife. Just like I convinced you to kidnap Jase and Lily Parker. Just like I convinced Morgana to seduce Kivar. Did you know that Kivar impregnated her? He was quite eager to bed his alleged daughter. It seemed to me at the time that you were neglecting your duties to your husband, sweet Tess.”

Tess’ eyes widened and tears streamed down her cheeks. “You’re a monster,” she seethed, unable to contain her rage any longer. “Look what you’ve done to my children, to me. You’ve made us monsters, all for your benefit and enjoyment. The only cause we furthered was your own!”

“It took very little to convince you to go after Jase and Lily once you knew they were Max Evans’ children. As for Tristan,” he replied with a shrug, “he went after Morgana of his own free will, same as any other man in Kivar’s army, and even Kivar himself.”

“Get out!”

“They are your children, sweet Tess, like you in every way. You’d be wise to remember that the sins of the parents are revisited on the child.”

[JO]

PART EIGHT

Lily closed her eyes, sweeping her arms across her chest then pushing them outward with resistance. Her timing impeccable, her movements flawless, she searched deep within the recesses of her mind for her mother’s voice. She smiled as the familiar timbre vibrated in her brain, the voice she longed to hear replaced by a voice long silenced.

He thinks you very important too, Lily. Even more important than Tess, the mother of his children, his queen.

Her eyes flashed open, her concentration broken by the memory of Sharon’s statement, and she willed the tears that threatened to surface away. It was her heart’s greatest wish - to be reunited with her mother - and Lily knew that in less than four days, she could begin the countdown toward their reunion. Her most private hope, the one she had successfully blocked from Kivar’s probing mind, was that in addition to reuniting with her mother, she hoped she could also reunite with Absalom.

“You’ve become much better at your training.”

She spun toward the door of her small mirrored training room, her ponytail batting her forehead when it caught up with her motions, and she smiled at Kivar, his green eyes trained carefully on her face. “Thank you,” she answered, Kivar stepping into the room as she sat on the floor. “I didn’t want to train with Jabra today. I hope that’s okay.”

“Is something wrong,” Kivar immediately questioned, stooping to her level despite the foot stool directly beside her, placed there as his specific seat.

Lily smiled at him again and Kivar lovingly cupped her cheek. “I just wanted to be alone.”

“Would you like me to leave?”

“No,” Lily replied honestly, rolling the blue and silver bracelet on her right wrist. Her mind wandered to Absalom and she tried to imagine what he would look like now, if he would recognize her if he saw her in a crowd. She wondered if he and her family were still searching for her and if he could care for her after her destiny with Kivar was over, once he knew what her destiny had been.

“You were thinking about your mother,” Kivar replied and although he had not asked it as a question, Lily nodded her head in agreement, tipping her eyes upward to look at Kivar’s face. Kivar had taken her away from his desert compound four years earlier, the two of them and a small group of guards vacating the compound under the cover of night. Their group had never stayed in one place for very long, Clovis being the lone instance, the only time in four years that Lily had felt someone coming for her since her mother’s warning the morning Kivar had taken her from Copper Summit. “You’ll be with her before you know it,” he said, snapping Lily from her reflections. “In less than four days, you will begin your path of destiny. We will join in marriage and -”

“Once I give birth to your child, I will be free,” Lily interrupted. “I know my destiny, Kivar, and I have accepted it.”

“It won’t be long,” Kivar said, kissing her chastely on the lips which Lily accepted with little emotion. “Are you scared?”

“Should I be?”

“There will be pain when we...consummate...”

“And when I give birth, I know.”

“You have had no woman to teach you,” Kivar continued, his hands resting lightly on Lily’s shoulders.

“So you’re the one that’s afraid,” Lily said, her amber eyes light with mischief. She smiled as she raised her head and playfully began sending small jolts of power through her index finger onto Kivar’s chest. “It’s you who’s scared.”

“Only of hurting you,” Kivar answered and something in his tone cautioned her to stop her games. She lowered her arm to her side, her mind flashed to their conversation just after their flight from Clovis, the first and only time Lily had attempted escape, the last time she had felt that Absalom and Jase were close.

Don’t make me hurt you, Lily. If you try to escape again, I’ll be forced to hurt you. I’ll have to kill your mother. Don’t make me do that. Don’t force me to hurt those you love when all I want is you.

“You are so beautiful, Lily, so trusting,” he began, his voice snapping her out of her memory with a shudder, his hands creeping up and down her upper arms before he rested them on her cheeks, framing her face. “Who will protect you if -”

“You will,” she said, clasping her hands around his wrists. “You promised, just like you promised I’d be free once my destiny was fulfilled.”

“I have enemies,” Kivar whispered, his green eyes clouding and Lily felt compelled to step backwards out of his grasp. Her brow furrowed in question and Kivar tweaked her chin with his left hand, a lop-sided smile on his face. “How unlike Tristan you are,” he said as he released her and stood. “You share partial genetic make-up but you are as different as night and day.”

“But he has Tess for a mother,” Lily replied without thinking and immediately pulled her bottom lip between her teeth in panic. She had never spoken her feelings about Tess aloud, much less to Kivar. She is Absalom’s mother too, she reminded herself, which only succeeded in making her more upset. “I’m sorry.”

“No,” Kivar said, waving away her apologize with his hand. “You are more right than you know.”

“I...I just meant that hate fuels Tristan. Hate is a powerful emotion.”

“Right again. Tristan does hate...many things.” Lily watched Kivar’s face pale and wished she were powerful enough to see inside his mind and to know his true feelings. “Do you need anything?”

“No, thank you. I’m fine.”

Kivar smiled and nodded his head, leaving Lily to her own devices as he shut the door behind him.

* * *

“What are you doing,” Tess demanded of Morgana once mother and daughter were alone in Tess’ bedroom. Tess sat in the chair previously occupied by Paj, Morgana in its twin, the two women seated across from each other. “How could you?”

“Tristan cares for me.”

“But he’s your brother,” Tess argued as she stood from her favorite chair, her face flushed in anger.

“The mythical King Arthur slept with his sister,” Morgana offered as an excuse or reason, Tess didn’t know which.

“Arthur was tricked into sleeping with his sister. Were you tricked?”

“Maybe.”

“Maybe the first instance, Morgana, but all other encounters were mutually agreed upon. How did you turn out this way?”

“You are my mother,” Morgana refuted, her blue eyes shining with unshed tears. “I am you reborn.”

“God, they’ve poisoned you,” Tess said, stepping away from her daughter. Tess brought her hand to her mouth as she stared at the stranger Morgana had become. “Who do you think you are helping by this behavior?”

“You can’t forbid me from being with Tristan.”

“I most certainly can!”

“No, you can’t. I’m too powerful and Tristan is out of your control. There are other destinies at work, Mother. Yours no longer matters.”

“How dare you speak to me that way. I am still your mother.”

“But I don’t need you,” Morgana replied, standing up from her seat and backing toward the door. “I will become the queen you could never be once we find Kivar. I serve him, Mother. Can you still say the same?” She spun on her heels and stormed out of her mother’s chamber.

Tess slumped against her bed, unable to focus on a complete thought other than she had created these monsters and she alone could destroy them. Destroying them meant she had to find Max Evans and turn his world upside down once again.

[JO]

Here you go, Kath and Cinder!! Hope you all enjoy it!



PART NINE

Max slowly sipped his lukewarm coffee while Isabel busied herself in the kitchen. He stood with the mug in one hand, his other hand on his hip, watching Kyle toss his daughter into the air. A sadness crept into his heart and he glanced over his shoulder at the telephone that hung on the wall. He stepped toward it but quickly retreated and turned his attention back to Kyle and Maria Grace, her squeals echoing through the quiet San Francisco neighborhood. “She’s really beautiful, Isabel.”

“And she knows it,” Isabel replied, sweeping past Max in her attempt to look busy. The kitchen had been cleaned to her standard for almost ten minutes but she didn’t feel like leaving Max alone. “She’s got Kyle wrapped around her finger.”

“Are you sorry you had her?”

“No,” Isabel replied with a hint of sadness in her voice as she joined Max at the window. “What’s done is done, Max. She may have been a mistake but she was the perfect mistake to make.”

“Well, she’s beautiful,” Max said again, taking a sip of his coffee. He turned away from the window and sat at the small round table, Isabel immediately sitting opposite him.

“How long has it been since you’ve been in Roswell? You’ve been here almost three weeks and you haven’t even mentioned going home. Did something happen to Liz or Seth?”

“I don’t know.”

“What do you mean you don’t know? When was the last time you were in Roswell?”

“Four years ago,” Max admitted as he spun the mug between his hands. “I haven’t seen or talked to Liz in four years.” He took another sip of coffee, his hands shaking as he brought the mug to his lips. “Jase and Lily will be eighteen at the end of this week. Can you believe that?”

“Max,” Isabel began, tears in her eyes as she tried to think of something to say. “You should call Liz. You need to call Liz.”

“Why should I call her just to tell her I’m a failure? She gave me a task and I can’t complete it.”

“So you’re just going to abandon she and Seth,” Isabel questioned. “You have a responsibility to Seth and Jase, just like you have a responsibility to Lily. God, Max, when did you become the kind of man that runs away from his duties?”

“I’m not running away.”

“Yes, you are. Liz needs you. Your children need you.”

“Tristan is my child, too. He doesn’t need me.”

“That’s different,” Isabel argued, her mind scurrying to change the subject. “He has Tess. He’s never tried to find you, never expressed an interest in finding you. He doesn’t need you like Lily does.”

“But I can’t find Lily. When she turns eighteen, she’ll be Kivar’s and we’ll never get her back. My connection to Tess makes me a marked man, Isabel. She can track my every movement by invading my mind and warn Kivar. That’s what happened two years ago in Clovis. That’s what happened in Copper Summit. It’s useless for me to even try anymore,” he replied with a shrug.

Isabel’s eyes widened at Max’s actions. He was giving up. He had simply stopped believing, and Isabel couldn’t allow him to give up so completely. “That should make you want to fight even more, Max. I know that if someone had Maria Grace, Kyle wouldn’t stop until he found her.”

“Thank you for pointing out my shortcomings as a father,” Max angrily spat as he slammed the coffee mug onto the table. It shattered into a thousand pieces, dribbling coffee and shards of ceramic onto the table and the kitchen floor. “I’m sorry. I’ll clean this up.”

“No,” Isabel countered, immediately lowering herself to the floor. “I’ll get it.”

* * *

Max sat in Isabel’s living room, Chutes and Ladders spread across the small coffee table as he, Isabel with Maria Grace in her lap, and Kyle played the game after dinner. Since their conversation earlier, Isabel and Max had been distant, which did not escape Kyle’s notice. It was why he had suggested the game in the first place, knowing Isabel and Max had played it religiously during their childhood.

“Your move, Gracie,” Kyle said, Maria Grace adjusting herself in her mother’s lap so she could better see the board. Her mouth twisted sharply to the left, the tip of her tongue visible out of the right side of her mouth and her brows furrowed in concentration. She rolled, her game piece promptly falling down a chute and her face showed her disappointment. “Damn those chutes.”

“Kyle,” Isabel cautioned as she covered Maria Grace’s ears with her hands. “Language.”

“Sorry, Gracie,” Kyle replied with a shrug, reaching across the board game to pinch Maria Grace’s cheek then quickly dropped it to tickle her neck.

“S’okay, Daddy,” Maria Grace replied with a giggle as she pushed her father’s hand away from her neck, brushing her long blonde hair out of her face once her father’s hand was safely away from her face. “You move, Max.”

“I’m going home,” Max replied, staring directly at Isabel.

“No home, Max,” Maria Grace said after inspecting the board with her limited reading skills. “Just chutes and ladders.”

“I’m going back to my home,” Max amended. “To my home in Roswell.” He smiled slowly at Isabel who kept her eyes on her brother as she planted a kiss on her daughter’s forehead.

[JO]

PART TEN

“I want to go home,” Jase said, Absalom beside him as they sat in their desert encampment, the West Texas sun beginning its descent behind the horizon, filling the sky with hues of orange and purple. “I think I should go home.”

“For good?”

“No,” Jase replied, digging the toe of his boot into the loose sand. “Just for a little while. There are some things I need to take care of.”

“Are you missing Larissa,” Absalom questioned, a smirk visible on her face. He turned to Jase, whose mouth fell open in shock as Absalom slapped him playfully on the shoulder. “Meran told me.”

“Can’t keep any secrets from Meran,” Jase replied with a laugh and Absalom stilled beside him, Meran’s voice floating through his mind. I would imagine Jase has many secrets.

“Meran said something to me,” Absalom began but quickly stopped, unsure how to continue.

“What? What did he say? Was it about Lily?”

“No,” Absalom continued. “He said...he said that you have...secrets. I don’t know what he meant by that. Do you...have secrets?”

Jase’s lips tightened, absently running his fingers through his dark hair in a gesture eerily similar to Michael’s patented frustrated sigh. “I’ve been having these...dreams lately,” Jase admitted as he sat down on a nearby rock, Absalom following his lead. “Dreams about Larissa.”

“Oh.”

“No,” Jase amended. “Well, yeah, they’re those kind of dreams but they’re alien too. Larissa’s face always morphs into Morgana’s.”

“Morgana? My sister Morgana?”

Jase nodded his head, using the toe of his boot to kick several small pebbles in front of him. “Meran told me I shouldn’t fight the dreams when they come. He said I’m just like my father.”

Absalom grimaced in confusion, knowing Meran’s ominous words could have several meanings and could be interpreted in several ways. “What did he mean by that?”

“I don’t know. I told him I didn’t have a destiny like you and Lily. I’m just ordinary Jase Parker.”

“What happens in the dreams?”

“I’d rather not tell you,” Jase admitted, scratching his ear to avoid directly looking at Absalom. “Your sister’s in them.”

“You...you dream about having...sex...with my sister?”

“Not exactly dreaming. I mean, I feel -”

“She’s not old enough -”

“Morgana is the same age as Lily and I,” Jase interrupted and Absalom immediately shut his mouth. “Let’s not talk about this any more,” he suggested as he continued to clean up their camp.

“Okay, but you’ll tell me the next time you have one of these dreams, won’t you?”

“Sure,” Jase replied. “As long as I can just say that I had a dream and you won’t ask any more questions.”

“Agreed.”

* * *

The telephone ring cut through Liz’s peaceful slumber, jarring her awake. She sat up and reached for the telephone on her night stand, Max’s name the first word out of her mouth. “Max?”

“Mrs. Evans? I’m sorry to bother you.”

“Who is this?”

“This is Deputy Taylor, with the Roswell Sheriff’s Department. There was an alarm trip.”

“I’m sorry,” Liz questioned, flipping on the lamp beside her bed as she leaned her back against the wooden headboard.

“At the old Crashdown Cafe. An alarm was tripped. We sent some deputies over but nothing appeared out of the ordinary, nothing stolen or broken.”

“Was someone in there,” Liz shuddered. No one had been in the cafe in almost eight years. She and Max had decided to close it down, as well as seal off her childhood home above it. She hadn’t thought about it in years; it remained a fixture of what Roswell once was and that portion of her life was in the past. “Did they kick in the door?”

“No, ma’am, there was no forced entry. Whoever went into the cafe had a key.”

“Oh,” Liz replied as a light tapping noise echoed through her bedroom. She held her hand over the phone when Michael’s face appeared on the other side of the window pane. “Thank you for letting me know, Deputy.”

“No problem, Mrs. Evans. We’ll keep monitoring the area in case something else happens.”

“Yes, please let me know if you catch the intruder. Goodnight.” She hung up the telephone before the deputy had a chance to say good-bye and crawled out of her bed, walking toward the window. “Michael?”

“Hey,” Michael hissed and Liz smelled the alcohol on him. “Can I come in?”

“Okay,” Liz replied and Michael took two heavy steps forward, Liz heard her holly bushes crunch underneath his gait. “Be careful,” she cautioned as Michael raised his leg over the windowsill and promptly fell through the window, his shoulder popping loudly as he hit the floor. “Oh.”

“I’m okay,” Michael drawled, struggling so badly to stand on his feet that Liz wrapped her arms around his waist and tried to hoist him. “Didn’t break.”

“You popped your shoulder out of place,” Liz commented, Michael falling backwards onto her bed.

“This’ll make it all better,” he said, pulling an unopened bottle of Jim Beam out of a brown paper bag. He opened the bottle with his powers then began drinking it. “You want some?” He wiped his mouth with the back of his free hand and offered the bottle to Liz.

“No,” she groaned as she walked over to the bedroom door and opened it, listening for any indication that Seth had woken up. After several seconds, she closed the door behind her then locked it. She stepped back into the interior of the room, Michael sitting on her bed, the now empty bottle in his hands and she wrapped her arms across her chest, her flannel pyjamas unable to keep her warm.

“You cold,” Michael asked as Liz hesitantly shuffled her feet back toward the bed. “I can keep you warm.” He gave her a drunken grin and held his palm outward for her to see as it glowed red. “I won’t blow you up. Promise.”

“Did you go to the Crashdown tonight?”

“Huh,” Michael said with a belch, dropping the empty bottle on the floor as he fell backwards onto Liz’s bed.

“The Crashdown,” Liz continued, sitting on the bed facing Michael. She nudged him with her fingers and he made a cough-like noise. “No, Michael. Did you go to the Crashdown? You’re the only one that still has a key.”

“So what if I did,” he retorted, his words slurring together as he raised himself into a sitting position.

“Why would you go there? There’s nothing...” She brushed his messy hair tenderly out of his face, her own eyes welling with tears.

“Let me kiss you, Liz,” Michael said, leaning toward her, his eyes closed and his lips pursed. Liz backed away just seconds before his lips would have hit hers and Michel fell face first onto the bed.

“Michael,” she questioned after he didn’t move for several seconds, poking him again with her fingers. A snoring sound was the reply and Liz sighed, her body shaking. She carefully rolled him onto his back and straightened his legs, throwing her favorite blanket across his chest. She turned away from him, glancing over her shoulder at his sleeping form once more before she exited the room.