Roswell Fanatics

Winner - Round 10





Title: Mnemosyne’s Daughter

Author: Josephin

Category: M/L

Rating: MATURE

Disclaimer: These stories are works of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real locales are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author's imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
The characters of Roswell belong to is founder - Jason Katims, Twentieth Century Fox Corporation, Regency Entertainment, and Monarchy B.V.

Summary: Everything up to and including “The Departure” has happened (with some minor alterations) – or did it? Six years after a shooting incidence at the Crashdown in Roswell, New Mexico, Liz Parker is attending college with her best friend Maria DeLuca, and Liz is haunted by dreams. Dreams of a dark-haired boy she used to have biology classes with in high school. As the dreams continue to interrupt her life, Liz starts to question her reality and what she knows is true. Was no one injured that day in September or do Liz’s dreams about her being shot and healed by the secretive boy harbor some truth?

Author’s note: I’m trying something different here. Except writing in present tense, I’m also making this story less than ten chapters in length (six chapters to be precise). The whole story is already written and I will be updating once a week (Fridays).

Thank you to my wonderful beta, Elizabeth (Gigo), who is always there for me, willing to edit anything I throw her way and who is always prepared with thought-inducing questions and comments.

Feedback: I’ll gladly accept any feedback – long or short


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One

Her mind painfully rips out off the claws of unconsciousness and her upper body propels upwards, her frightful gasp spreading through the room like a malicious gas. Her hands are in full-out panic, clutching at the bottom of her shirt, ascertaining that she is whole.

“Liz?”

Her hands spread over her skin. The darkness offers her no answers while her fingers inform her that her skin is still intact. The loud sound still reverberates in her ears and she is certain that her fingers are lying. As her legs tumble out of the false security of her bed, her best friend sits up, squinting against reality.

“Liz?”

“Go back to sleep,” Liz whispers, her voice trembling in the stillness of the night.

Maria murmurs an indistinguishable reply before laying down again, pulling the covers up to her ears as if to immerse herself more deeply in the protective cocoon of sleep. Sleep is a protection that has abandoned the dark-haired petite woman who fumbles along the wall to find a weapon to push the darkness away. Seconds later she blinks against the bright light that floods the bathroom. The dream still haunts her. It mocks her with its persistence. This is the third night in a row that the dream has assaulted her, leaving her trembling and uncertain of her existence in the world. Leaving her somehow certain that she is supposed to be somewhere else. That she is supposed to be someone else.

Max Evans is staring at you again

She shakes her head in a futile attempt to clear her mind of the tendrils of sleep weaving their way through her mind, trapping her, making her want to scream. Her fingers work quickly to unbutton the shirt and she pulls it open, exposing her naked chest and abdomen to her reflection in the mirror. As before, her fingers travel slowly over the expanse of her skin. During their travel, the fingers encounter three moles, but none of her senses confirm her conviction that there should be a gaping hole in her stomach.

You have to look at me

Commanded by the frantic voice, she meets her own eyes in the mirror.
Something is wrong.
The thought hits her with a suddenness that causes her to sway on her feet and she has to brace herself against the sink.

“Who are you?” she whispers to the reflection, but the chocolate brown eyes merely respond with a blank stare.

<center>-----------------------------------------------</center>

“Do you…do you remember Max Evans?”

Maria looks up distractedly from her plate, still wearing a frown of concentration from her attempt to decorate her pancakes with all available toppings.

“Uhm...” Maria stares at Liz for a few fleeting seconds before responding. “Sure. He was your lab partner, in high school. Right?”

“Mhm,” Liz acknowledges, staring absently at the bowl of cereal in front of her.

Maria cocks her head to the side, contemplating her friend’s odd behavior. “What’s with the sudden interest in someone you haven’t seen in four years?”

“I just… I was just thinking of all the people back in high school, you know.”

Her evasive answer causes Maria’s frown to grow deeper. Liz has been acting strangely for days and from the look of it, it isn’t getting any better with time. Her friend is sporting some impressive circles under her eyes and her skin has taken on a sickly nuance. Maria’s gaze travels lower, taking notice of the old sweater and pale worn-out jeans, and while shifting her eyes back to Liz’s face Maria can’t help but register the oily build-up in Liz’s dark hair. When did Liz last take a good look at herself in the mirror? Scratch that. When did she last take a shower?

Frowning more deeply, Maria impales a huge bite of a pancake, topped with the works, on her fork and shoves it into her mouth.

“Oh wait!” she announces around a mouthful of pancakes, cream and jam, “Max Evans…He was friends with that guy with the…uhm…that weird guy…what was his name…?”

“Michael,” Liz offers.

Maria nods enthusiastically, pointing her fork at Liz in triumph. “Yeah, that’s it. He was weird. They both were. Wasn’t that girl… Right, Evans’ sister-“

“Isabel,” Liz interjects.

“Those three had this weird top secret group going on,” Maria continues. Taking a hold of an abandoned bag of M&M’s laying dangerously close to the edge of the table, Maria unglamorously moves to drown her pancakes in the rainbow colored chocolate buttons. “They were weird.”

“They preferred to keep to themselves, I guess,” Liz murmurs.

“Nah-uh,” Maria objects, waving the fork in the air as she happily crunches the M&M’s between her teeth. “That group went way beyond ‘keeping to themselves’. I bet they thought they were better than everyone else. That they were above socializing with us mere mortals.”

Liz smiles weakly but proceeds to shake her head in faint disagreement. Something about what Maria just said unnerves her.

us mere mortals

“I think they were just…” searching for the right word, Liz finishes the sentence with, “different.”

Maria nods appreciatively. “Uh-uh. They were different alright. Downright I’m-gonna-kidnap-you-and-take-you-out-in-the-desert-and-eat-your-liver kind of different.”

Before Liz is able to protest, feeling the innate need to defend the odd group that she never really had any substantial contact with during her years in high school, Maria continues by smoothly changing the subject.

“Now. Let’s talk about me. Since you are my best friend in the whole wide world, I will let it slide this once, but are you not dying to hear everything about my date yesterday?”

Liz’s eyes open wide in regret. “Oh, Maria, I’m sorry. How was it?”

“Eh, it was okay,” Maria says casually.

<center>-------------------------------------------------------</center>

”Liiiiz!!!”

Her head whips upwards, her muffled cry spreading in the lecture hall, causing the lecturer to discontinue his monotonous monologue.

“Liz.”

She shakes her head, expelling Maria’s fearful voice from her head and instead attempts to focus on the other female voice saying her name with less desperation but with hushed sharpness. She turns to the redhead sitting next to her and looks into her classmate’s green eyes.

“I…” Liz mumbles, but a silence, normally foreign to the lecture hall, currently hungrily embraces the occupants and Liz is tempted to look out over the audience.

“Miss Parker? Am I disturbing your sleep?”

Heat spreads up her neck and face and she shakes her head vigorously. “No, no, sir.”

“Right. Would you mind, then, if we returned to the lecture?”

Liz bites her bottom lip, feeling the heat of the other students’ gazes on her face. “No, sir.”

“Okay then.” The professor stares at her for a few seconds, his face momentarily revealing the bewilderment he feels about having one of his top students falling asleep in his class, before returning to teaching the genome of the paramyxovirus. The rest of the class loses interest in the drama concerning the usually studious girl and return their varying degrees of attention to the professor.

“What’s wrong with you?” the girl next to her whispers, her voice a tangle of admonishment and concern.

“I’m having trouble sleeping,” Liz answers quietly, rubbing her forehead.

“You want some sleeping pills? I have some.”

“No. Thank you, Nicole, but I think I’m just gonna…drink some tea or something.”

Nicole gives her a disbelieving look; she has suffered from insomnia for years, and her experience was that standing on your head would be just as helpful as drinking tea when you couldn’t sleep, “People are always optimistic in the beginning.”

But Nicole is unaware that she has already lost Liz’s attention as Liz stares down at her notepad, wondering why the words seem to detach from the paper and float around. Merely seconds seem to have passed in Liz’s world when Nicole nudges her elbow informing her that the lecture has reached its end. Liz looks up, to discover an almost empty lecture hall. Her legs feel unsteady as she makes her way down the stairs and out of the hall.

Why is it okay for them, but it's not okay for us?

Her books slide out of her hands and end up on the ground, papers spreading out around her like a waterfall.

“Crap,” Liz mumbles and falls to her knees.

“What’s up with you today?” Nicole asks as she kneels to help Liz.

Before she has a chance to answer, she feels a wave – pressure – consume her, knocking the wind out of her. Falling on her backside, she encounters the heat of tears forming in her eyes. She vaguely hears Nicole giggle next to her, calling her a klutz, but she is unable to do anything else but focus on the burning inside of her.

I'm afraid of feeling everything that I know I would feel. Because I know it's not meant to be.

She distantly notices someone walking by, her senses zooming in on that person, but finds herself unable to open her eyes. Suddenly she is covered in a cold sweat and her heart is thudding heavily in her ears. Whatever is shaking her, enhancing every emotion she has been struggling with for the past few days, is very close.

“Liz? Hello? Earth to Liz?”

Whatever it is, it moves away. Her aching lungs desperately pull in air and her heart slows from its terrified thundering. Tentatively, she opens her eyes and locks them on Nicole’s concerned gaze.

“Maybe you should see a shrink?”

Ignoring her statement, Liz whips her head around and scans the mass of students. She does not know what she is looking for, what she is expecting to see, but it is as if her eyes knows exactly where to look. They stop, having located their target, and her breath catches. She sees the back of a man as he walks through the crowd, walking away from her.

She scrambles to her feet, feeling desperation claim her. Whoever that is, she can’t lose him. Forgetting her books, forgetting the concerned, green-eyed, red-haired friend, forgetting the world, Liz Parker runs into the thick mass of bodies. Her head whips from side to side, tears burn her eyes as she frantically tries to locate him again.

Max Evans is staring at you again.

But she doesn’t. He is gone.


TBC...

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The first part of this chapter has lines taken from the pilot episode. If you don't recognize it, I suggest you go and rewatch the first episode This is my interpretation of that scene. Feedback is appreciated and highly recommended



Two

Liz laughs softly to herself as she walks back to the cash register. Maria joins her, shaking her head at her. “You are sooo bad girl,” and casually adds, “Oh, and Max Evans is staring at you again.”

Liz’s eyes widens in disbelief. “No way.” Turning around, she finds Max, sitting in the booth he always occupies. “Maria, that is so in your imagination.”

Max meets her eyes and she swallows. The eye contact only lasts for a brief second before Max innocently looks down at the table. Liz collects herself and turns to Maria who is positioning the coffee to be reheated and points in the direction of where Max is sitting. “Max Evans?” Her finger points to her own face. “This? No, nah-uh…it’s not…”

Maria steps up to Liz and cradles her face between her hands, addressing her like a child. “And with those cheeks!” Liz giggles. “Preciosita tan linda!”

“Maria!” Liz exclaims. For some reason she feels bubbly today, like she is tingling all over. “No, okay?”

Maria laughs softly, satisfied to have embarrassed her friend, and walks back to prepare coffee for the customers.

“And even if I weren’t, I’m going out with Kyle,” Liz continues. She leans against the counter, feeling the need to defend her relationship with her current boyfriend as Maria laughs softly next to her. “I mean, he’s steady and loyal,” her alien replica antennae bounce on her head as she strives to justify her choice of boyfriend and Maria turns to her, looking at her incredulously with two cups of coffee in her hands. Like she’s reciting a shopping list, Liz finishes methodically, “And he appreciates me.”

Maria, slightly bored with the normalcy and goodness of Kyle Valenti through Liz’s description, walks past her. “Sounds like you’re describing a poodle.”

Liz looks after her friend, sighs and lifts herself off the counter where she has been half-sitting. Just because Maria is only interested in dangerous men, doesn’t mean that she has to be. She has to admit, boring as it might sound, that she likes the predictability in her relationship with Kyle. She even welcomes it. She likes to know what is going to happen so that she can plan ahead. You always have to have a plan.

Loud voices at the front of her parents’ restaurant interrupt her train of thought and she automatically jumps as the sound of shattering glass spills through the room. Before the danger of the situation has time to sink in, Maria turns around and screams her name. Time seems to slow down as Liz stares into Maria’s terrified face. Maria turns around and Liz stares at the men who are now standing.

“I was supposed to get the money today. Not tomorrow!”

Her eyes widen in shock, her mouth falls open as she watches one of the men pull out a gun.

“Won’t need money if you’re dead.”

Out of the corner of her eye she sees Maria pull herself down under a table, into safety, and some part of her brain registers the other customers doing the same. But she can only stare, her feet rooted to the floor. Liz, get down! The voice is clear in her head, but her body refuses to follow orders. Her eyes keep staring at the gun in the man’s hand as the men engage in a short struggle before the trigger of that same gun is pulled and the loudest sound she has ever heard explodes in the room.

She stares as the men look in her direction, fear on their faces, and scramble off the floor. She frowns. There’s a numbness spreading throughout her body and for some reason she is finding it hard to stand on her legs. She doesn’t notice how the men hurry out of the restaurant as her legs give away under her weight and she falls to the floor.

A burning sensation quickly replaces the numbness. It feels like her skin is on fire. It’s concentrated in her abdomen but is rapidly spreading to the rest of her stomach. She tries to scream, but nothing comes out of her mouth. The pain. Pain like she’s never known before is engulfing her and she feels herself faltering, feels her grip on consciousness slipping away.

She doesn’t notice when her shirt is ripped open, doesn’t feel the cool air graze her skin. She doesn’t hear the groan of fear and is not aware of the fingers against the base of her chin as someone whispers, “It’s gonna be okay.”

She’s sinking further into the painless state of unconsciousness, a place she wants to be. But someone is preventing her from slipping any further. Someone is pressing a large warm hand against the back of her head, softly coaxing her with her name to return.

“Liz. Liz. You have to look at me.” There’s desperation in his voice and she feels herself forcing her eyes open. She needs to see who it is. “You have to look at me.”

She finds herself looking into a set of amber-colored eyes and in her pain-induced haze she manages to register the thin sheen of wetness in those eyes. She winces as pressure is applied to the open wound in her stomach, but the discomfort lasts for a mere second only to be replaced by warmth and lightness. She can’t see anything. It is as if there’s a shield in front of her eyes, distorting the surroundings. She can see him as a shadow, leaning over her. No, ‘see’ is the wrong word. She can sense him leaning over her.

As her body fills with a white light and comforting tingles of warmth, which has her shaking, twisting and gasping under its force, she is assaulted by feelings that aren’t hers. Desperation, fear, sadness, but most of all… Love? As she’s about to emerge herself deeper into that comforting feeling, she is jolted back to the real world. That’s the only way she can describe it. It’s like she’s falling, and she hits the floor, hard. The blurriness dissipates and the world around her snaps into clarity.

Max Evans is leaning over her, his face only a breath from hers. His breathing is haggard and she can feel him trembling against her body. There’s relief in his eyes as he stares into her confused and shocked face.

“You’re all right now,” he whispers. He moves away from her and she feels the cold air hit her exposed body.

A need, may it be for explanation or comfort she’s not sure, shakes her being. She watches as he looks down at her stomach, repeating, “You’re all right now.”

Off in the distance she hears a hurried voice. “Keys! Now!”

She watches him turn his head away from her and throws something, probably the keys in question, to someone behind him. With a new kind of hurried desperation, Max turns to the shelf hanging off the wall and grabs a ketchup bottle that he slams against the edge of the shelf, cracking the glass, making the red sauce pour out.

Catching her eyes again, while covering her abdomen in cold mashed tomatoes, he says with urgency, “You broke the bottle when you fell,” he’s backing away from her and she wants to yell out to him, to tell him to stay, but he continues backwards his movements filled with paranoid distress, “spilled ketchup on yourself.”

His movements slightly still as he locks eyes with hers, pleading her, “Don’t say anything, please.”

He doesn’t wait for her reply, but disappears from her view. She hurries to get her legs under control and pulls herself up into standing position. Clutching the ends of her open turquoise alien-themed dress together her eyes track Max’s journey out of the restaurant. When he pushes the glass front door open, he turns around and looks at her before he jumps into the waiting jeep and drives off. And it hits her. She was dying but he brought her back. Somehow he brought her back.

As the dream world gives way to the real world, Liz faintly hears Maria’s question merging the dream with reality, “Are you okay?”

She opens her eyes slowly, looking out in the darkness of the room she shares with Maria. She can tell by the deep breaths she hears from the other bed that the roommate in question is very much asleep. A shiver runs through her body and for a total of five seconds she fights with the need to talk to Maria, before surrendering. The floor is cold against the soles of her feet as she hurries across the floor. Maria is curled up at one edge of the bed, so Liz pulls the cover downwards and buries herself in the semi-warm environment of Maria’s bed.

“Liz?” Maria murmurs, sleep heavily coating her voice.

“Maria, I need to talk to you.”

Maria gives a whine of protest and turns to face Liz. “It’s in the middle of the night.”

“Ria, was I ever shot?”

Suddenly, Maria is very much awake and her wide open eyes are staring at Liz in shock. “What?!”

“I know it might sound weird,” Liz continues, “but was I ever shot? Did I like forget it or something?”

“What the hell are you talking about?” Maria whispers. This conversation is freaking her out.

“Because you know how sometimes people who are in trauma can suffer selective amnesia, or something like that.”

Liz is babbling, trying to justify her statement, as Maria stares at her with open alarm.

Swallowing, Maria finds her voice. “When was this supposed shooting?”

“Uhm… you were there,” Liz rakes her memory, seeing Maria in her short hair. Maria had hated that short hair, still to this day claiming it was the worst mistake of her life. “You had short hair.”

Maria scrunches her nose in disapproval at the mention of her choice of hairstyle.

“That’s when we were 16,” Maria says.

“We were talking about how Max Evans is always staring at me. You know, he used to sit in that booth close to the window with Michael and Isabel.”

“Uh-huh,” Maria says.

“And I was explaining how Kyle was a really good guy-“

“Oh my God, that day.”

Liz stops and it is now her turn to stare at Maria. “You-you remember? It happened?”

“How could I forget? You had just given one of those photos of your semi sun-melted plastic dolls to one of the UFO-fanatics and there was an argument.”

“Between two men,” Liz whispers, afraid as she listens to Maria retelling Liz’s dream.

“Yes, and a gun went off.”

Liz notices that she isn’t breathing when Maria stops and she draws a deep breath, wetting her dry lips. “And then?”

Maria smiles reassuringly. “Nothing happened. No one got injured. Everyone ducked and the bullet lodged itself in the wall at the back of the restaurant. It was pretty close to you though, because you were standing in the back.”

Confusion mares her beautiful features as Liz tries to get her head around the altered ending. “But…” she shakes her head in a sign of disbelief. “I was sure… Why don’t I remember that?”

“You don’t remember that day? I guess, well, you were a bit shaken up. You were standing pretty close to where the bullet flew.”

“And Max?” Liz swallows.

Maria’s eyebrows bury in her hairline. “Max Evans? What about him?”

“What did he do? Did he run up to me?”

Maria frowns. “Why would he?” Maria scrutinizes Liz. “Lizzie, are you sure you’re okay? Where’s all of this coming from? Why do you suddenly believe that you were shot?”

“I dreamt it,” Liz answers honestly. “Just now. I dreamt that I was shot that day and Max… Max made the pain go away.”

Maria stares at her for a few seconds before she breaks out in laughter. “He made the pain go away? Liz, are you listening to yourself? Have you been reading too many romance novels lately?”

Would you listen to yourself?

Liz pulls back as the harsh voice rips through her subconscious.

Maria looks at her worriedly. “I think you should go back to your bed and try and get some sleep. I think you really need it.”

Liz nods and, with mixed feelings of fear and hope, she gets back into her own bed, closes her eyes and waits for another dream to come.


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She steps closer to her reflection, running her finger over the purplish areas under her eyes. Shaking her head at her latest inability to sleep, she picks up a cover stick from her backpack and smudges it over the signs of her insomnia. When she’s done, she gives herself a once over, grateful that Maria forced her to take a shower this morning. It’s odd what absent-mindedness as a result of lack of sleep does to you. She didn’t think she could forget such a vital thing like showering. She braces herself against the sink as a wave of weariness courses through her. The last couple of days have made her realize just how beneficial sleep is. It prevents your brain from going into overdrive, overheating and eventually melting. But lately she seems to be lacking the natural mechanism to prevent meltdown.

Liz pulls a water bottle out of her bag and takes a sip, closing her eyes to steady herself under the onslaught of dizziness. Putting the bottle back in her backpack, she pushes the strap over her right shoulder and maneuvers her way past girls combing their hair and reapplying make-up. She pulls the door open and another wave of dizziness hits her. She unconsciously fumbles for support, but finds nothing and she’s dangerously close to falling when two strong hands grasp her upper arms and steadies her. The dizziness grows stronger and she feels close to fainting as her mind is suddenly battered by images. Images of her and Max Evans. Holding hands, hugging, dancing, laughing, kissing, caressing. Her head is bent as she tries to focus outside of the images. She must be going crazy. But then the images cease and she looks up, finding familiar amber eyes looking straight at her.


TBC...

You guys are gorgeous! Thank you so much for your words, questions and thoughts.

kjacqueline - Sorry I have this tendency to end chapters in that manner... It's a curse, I'm telling you
clueless - Thank you!
Smac - Thank you!!
imnotic - I confused you even more? The answers will come...
Begonia9508 - Another timeline? Hmm... maybe. Very interesting. Thanks, Eve!
Emz80m - Yes, they are. It's all starting now...
Kath7 - Another timeline? Very likely... Thank you for your thoughts and observations, Kath.
ken_r - I remember reading two of your stories some time ago and I loved your perspective on things. Thank you for your thoughts and comments!
TheShortAiel - Thank you!

Augustus Snodgrass wrote:when you say everything through Departure happened do you mean *EVERYTHING* ( i.e. Alex's death, icky icky encounter in the observatory, etc.) Cause that one quote you used... "Would you listen to yourself" one.... that's from "Baby, It's You" right?? Or did Maria say that in the "Pilot"... oy. I need answers, PRONTO.

Yes, that quote is from BIY... Thank you, Caroline, so much for your feedback!

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From Two

Liz pulls a water bottle out of her bag and takes a sip, closing her eyes to steady herself under the onslaught of dizziness. Putting the bottle back in her backpack, she pushes the strap over her right shoulder and maneuvers her way past girls combing their hair and reapplying make-up. She pulls the door open and another wave of dizziness hits her. She unconsciously fumbles for support, but finds nothing and she’s dangerously close to falling when two strong hands grasp her upper arms and steadies her. The dizziness grows stronger and she feels close to fainting as her mind is suddenly battered by images. Images of her and Max Evans. Holding hands, hugging, dancing, laughing, kissing, caressing. Her head is bent as she tries to focus outside of the images. She must be going crazy. But then the images cease and she looks up, finding familiar amber eyes looking straight at her.



Three

There’s a few seconds of silence before his soft low voice asks, “Are you okay?”

“Max…?” she whispers, barely audible.

“Uhm…” he says and almost instinctively she knows that he wants to look away to avoid her gaze, but that he is failing.

“Max Evans?” Liz repeats. Is she really staring at the boy who has prevented her from having a good night sleep the last couple of nights?

He clears his throat, realizes that he is still grasping her arms, lets her go, and obviously finds his tongue. “Liz Parker?”

Liz looks at him, having the strangest feeling that his surprise is not genuine. He recognized her from the beginning. Maybe even before he decided to prevent her from falling.

“I…” she licks her dry lips. “I haven’t seen you since high school? How are you?”

His gaze is intense and under normal circumstances she would have looked away under its heavy scrutiny. But she doesn’t. Something tells her this is not normal circumstances.

“I’m good, I’m good,” Max says, his voice flowing freely now. “And you? You look…” He smiles softly, his eyes roaming her face appreciatively, without inhibitions. “You look great.”

She knows that she is blushing, but still has the wits to protest, “Please, I look horrible.” She was just looking at herself in the mirror and she knows that she looks like death warmed over.

He shakes his head slowly, obviously not believing her words. “No, Liz. You look really great.” Something unreadable enters his eyes and he mumbles, so softly that she almost misses it, “Happy.”

“Ahum…,” she nervously bites her lip, “How have you been?”

“Alright,” Max answers lightly, but a slight nuance to his voice makes her suspect that is not the whole truth. There’s something ageless about his eyes, as if he has been through more in his life than a person five times his age.

“We should grab a cup of coffee, catch up,” Liz suggests.

He seems to hesitate and she watches with a combination of fascination and worry the thoughts fly through his head. At least that’s what she’s imagining, because his face is expressionless, a blank slate. It’s strange, how she is certain that she can see inside his head at that moment, see his every thought. Still, his reply surprises her.

“I can’t. I’m sorry, Liz.”

“Oh,” she pushes out, not for a second thinking that he would say no. “Okay then… Well, maybe some other day. When are you free?”

“No, I can’t, Liz. I have to go.”

She might be mistaken, but Liz is sure she can see regret in his eyes before he diverts them to the ground. She wants to fight his refusal, because even though he’s already turning away from her, she has the feeling that he is waiting for her to stop him. But she must be wrong, because as she opens her mouth to say something, anything to stop him, he beats her to it.

His eyes fixate on the ground as he speaks, “It’s better this way.”

He has the chance to take a couple of steps, before she finds any words, “What do you mean by that?”

He stops, his back towards her, and a memory flashes through her mind. A memory of her running after someone looking exactly like that the day before. Same broad shoulders, same weary tilt of the head. Did Max somehow cause all those confusing feelings she experienced yesterday? But how is that even possible?

“I never believed you, never dared to hope,” he mumbles finally.

Liz shakes her head, frowning. This man is talking in riddles. She reaches out and grabs his arm and her body sways as something akin to electricity rushes up her arm. She gasps and he looks down at where her hand is connected with his arm. He looks up at her, sadness in his eyes.

“Liz, please. I can’t…”

Before she has a chance to stop him he pulls away and before she can fathom what just transpired she is alone.

<center>------------------------------------</center>

Maria throws the keys on the bed as she walks through the door. “Honey, I’m hooome!!”

Liz barely acknowledges her but Maria doesn’t seem to notice as she kicks off her shoes and throws herself on her bed.

“So, how was your day?” Maria asks, unwrapping a lollipop and pushing it into her mouth with a subdued moan of delight.

“I saw Max Evans.”

Maria almost chokes on the lollipop. “You what?”

“I saw Max Evans,” Liz repeats, calmly, bordering on causal.

“You saw Max Evans?” Maria parrots.

“I bumped into him outside the Ladies at school,” Liz clarifies.

“You bumped into- What?”

“It was weird,” Liz continues.

Maria is staring at her friend with eyes the size of saucers as if telling her ‘duh’. “Remember that conversation we had the other day? When I mentioned that Max was weird?” She spreads her hands out in front of her in an act of ‘what did I tell you’. “Oh my God, this is really weird. Who have you been talking about, like non-stop, the last couple of days? Max Evans!”

“That’s not the weirdest part,” Liz says, which grants her a skeptical look from Maria. “The whole conversation was really weird. It was like… Well, first of all, it was like he knew something that I didn’t know.”

“Uhm…okay. Well, you know. That is very likely since you have lived separate lives since you moved out of Roswell. I’m sure there’s a lot of things he knows but you don’t.”

Liz frowns. “No, that’s not what I mean. It was like he knew things about me – about us – that I didn’t know about.”

“Us? As in you and Max?”

Liz nods. “And it was like he was trying to avoid me. He was different.”

“Liz, a lot of time has passed since you saw him last. People change.”

Liz rubs her forehead tiredly, trying to make sense of her jumbled thoughts. “He was looking at me so knowingly, like he knew me. Like he knows me.”

“You’re really not making any sense, you know that right? I mean, you were lab partners for quite some time, if I remember correctly. You saw each other almost every day in class and he always came to the Crashdown in the afternoons. Of course he knows you.”

“Not like that,” Liz emphasizes, frustration making her voice prickle with exhaustion.

“Then what, Liz?” Maria asks, her voice softer. For some reason, Liz is very upset by the meeting. She can feel the negative energy radiating off Liz in waves.

“He said some things. He didn’t want to meet up with me for coffee-“

Maria scrunches her nose in disbelief. “He didn’t?”

“-and then he said that ‘it’s better this way’.”

“It’s better this way?” Maria repeats.

Liz nods. “I asked him what he means and he says something about not believing me, that he could never hope.”

“Huh?”

“My thought exactly.”

Maria shakes her head, as if to shake off the nonsense Liz is telling her. “He’s obviously weirder than we thought. I don’t understand why you had such a crush on him, Liz. He was pretty gorgeous, but that high weird factor-“

“What?” Liz interrupts.

“’What’ what?” Maria asks innocently, twirling the lollipop in her mouth. “Come on, you don’t remember having a crush on him?”

There it was again. Maria remembering something she couldn’t remember at all. Why couldn’t she remember having a crush on Max Evans? Why couldn’t she remember something dramatic as a shooting in her parents’ restaurant?

“No…” she whispers, her throat feeling tight because the second she denies knowing, her feelings for Max come rushing back to her, followed by memories of her staring at him longingly in class when he wasn’t looking.

“I think it started when he moved to Roswell – I mean, we were only in third grade, but you were baking cookies for him and drawing hearts with Max and Liz written inside. You were over the moon in love with him. Come to think of it, I’ve never seen you like that since.”

“How long?” Liz squeaks and swallows nervously.

“How long the crush lasted for? Uhm… I don’t know, Liz. I don’t remember you ever telling me that you were over him. I can’t believe I forgot all about that when you suddenly started talking about Max a couple of days ago. I should’ve known he never left your mind. Now he’s in your dreams, huh? Actually, you were constantly making lovey-dovey eyes at each other. Max was so in love with you. It was obvious.”

Maria momentarily stops ranting, frowning, “So weird that you never got together. I would have assumed you would give in sooner or later.”

“Yeah, weird,” Liz agrees. Weird seems to be the word of the week.

“What’s even weirder is that you don’t seem to remember,” Maria says. “You don’t have some kind of dementia that I don’t know about?”

Liz absent-mindedly shakes her head and Maria takes Liz’s lack of attention as a sign to change the topic.

“I met that guy again – Simon. He’s actually really great. You know, he’s loaded. I mean, seriously loaded. His father owns this huge multimillion dollar company-“

Giving the occasional nod, Liz listens to Maria’s story, but her mind is with Max and with every passing second she gets increasingly determined to find Max again.

It is going to be easier than she thinks.

<center>----------------------------------------------------</center>

“So, you wanna get together to work on that assignment this afternoon?” Nicole asks.

“Yeah,” Liz says.

Nicole stops and smiles at her.

Her smile makes Liz self-conscious. “What?”

“You look better today. Did you get some sleep?”

Strangely enough, Liz had the first dreamless night in five days. She slept like a dead. “Yes, I feel a lot better.”

Nicole smirks. “Sleep is a marvelous thing, isn’t it? You don’t appreciate it until you can’t have it, though.”

“True.”

“Oh God, look at that guy.”

Liz looks in the direction Nicole is discreetly pointing and finds herself staring straight into Max Evans’ eyes.

“Isn’t he delicious?” Nicole purrs next to her. “Is it just me or is he looking straight at us?”

Straight at me, Liz corrects silently, feeling her heart rate pick up.

“Excuse me,” she says weakly before she starts hurrying over in Max’s direction.

Nicole shakes her head in disbelief. She totally saw him first!

Max breaks eye contact as soon as he sees her moving towards him and he turns, walking in the opposite direction. No, walking is an understatement. He is almost running.

Liz stops, her breathing shallow, almost sweating and stares as Max is swallowed by the myriad of students. Why is he, literally, running away from her?


TBC...

....

And I'm back.

To those of you who took the time to let me know your thoughts, thank you!

clueless - I'll tell you this; you are not as clueless as your nickname suggests
Begonia9508 - Yeah, I know. Max is not really planning his moves very well and since we all know of Liz's inquisitive nature, him acting all suspicious is really not going to help in getting her to stay away.
imnotic - You think there's S1 innocence? Thank you! That means a lot. I loved the innocence of S1 and that you think I've been able to capture it somehow makes me all blushy and happy
Asabetha - Thank you
Flamehair - Ah, the Tess theory, huh? Thank you for letting me know that you're reading!
Kath7

Kath7 wrote:Okay, I just have to say. Max is terrible at this whole "it's better this way" business.

I completely agree with you on that one.
ILYMEFOREVER - Mary, hi! I haven't seen you since...uhm... "Workings of Destiny", I think. Nice to "see" an old face.
McGees - Really? I never heard of that rumor. That's cool. Keep up those theories.
Gigo - Thank you, my dear

And a big wave to lurkers!



The first part of this chapter includes quotes from "It's Too Late and It's Too Bad", courtesy of crashdown.com

Four

She watches him approach, feeling the tension vibrating between them. She swallows her anger and forces out, “What’s up?”

He’s calm and collected when he speaks, “Liz, I just want to talk this through.” He shakes his head, communicating weariness. “I don’t want this to turn into a war between us, between everyone.”

She shakes her head emphatically. “Yeah. Neither do I.”

She can’t help but wonder, hope, if things are going to change. Is he here to offer his help? To swallow his pride and help her? But as he speaks, her resentment for the person he has turned into resurfaces.

“Look. The other day at the wake, you were upset about Alex.” He avoids her eyes, while his tone tries to compromise. “I understand how you might have said the things you said.”

There it is. That condescending streak that she has been forced to face everyday the last couple of weeks. Ever since… Too angry to trust her voice, she presses her lips together. “Mm-hmm.”

Max continues and she keeps looking at him, surprised at her own lack of surprise at no longer recognizing the person in front of her.

“I’m willing to forget about it.” He laughs nervously, “Wipe the slate clean.”

Her body tightens in anger. How noble of him, to forgive her for her ‘behavior’ at the wake. Biting back a ‘Well, Your Highness’, she interrupts him. “Max,” she takes a deep breath, choosing her words carefully and trying her best not to lose her temper, “maybe it wasn’t right for me to say what I said just then,” she takes another deep breath and looks directly into his eyes, continuing firmly, “and maybe I could have said it a little bit calmer.” She pauses, the silence loaded with tension as her unyielding eyes hold his. “But I don’t regret it. It’s true.”

Max looks away, trying to control his apparent frustration. He steps closer to her, his voice low, as he towers over her. “Liz, the way you’re going about doing this isn’t safe.”

She looks at him incredulously, tears of hurt and anger springing up in her eyes. He doesn’t trust her enough to do this? She can remember a time when he would trust her with anything. But things have changed, something she realizes more acutely with every controlling word coming out of Max’s mouth.

“Talking to people at school, asking questions. Whenever we decided to do something, we always decided as a group.”

She opens her mouth to respond, but the stupidity, the hypocrisy of what he is preaching, momentarily leaves her speechless. “Do you believe me? About Alex?”

He pulls backwards, his whole being resigning to the truth of her words. She can see that he knows the point she is about to make before she makes it. Squaring his shoulders, his weak response is in strong contrast to the authoritative aura surrounding him. “No.”

Liz blinks, feigning surprise while her expression clearly tells him the ridiculousness of his request even before she utters the words. “Well, then we can’t act as a group right now, Max.”

<center>------------------------------------------</center>

“How did Alex die?”

She has a feeling that he knew she was standing behind him, because he doesn’t seem startled as he turns to face her. His face is the epitome of calmness. “Alex Whitman?”

She nods.

“That was ages ago, Liz,” he says. “You were there, you know what happened.”

“I want to hear it from you,” Liz says.

His fingers envelope her upper arm and she shivers at the contact. It is a good shiver the kind of shiver that makes your toes curl. She looks up at him as he guides them over to a secluded area of the food court.

“There was a car accident. He drove off the road.”

“You were at his wake,” Liz states and studies him carefully as he seem to choose his answer carefully, almost as if he is searching his mind for something and the troubled expression on his face tells her that he isn’t being very successful.

“Yes,” he answers.

“Why?”

Max appears confused. “Excuse me?”

“You didn’t even know Alex. Why were you there?”

He starts to pull away. “Look, I need to be somewhere and my lunch break is really short-“

“Who are you?”

She might be mistaken, but Liz is almost a hundred percent certain she can see pure fear flash in his eyes.

“I-I’m Max Evans,” he stutters.

She narrows her eyes and regards him as a puzzle that needs to be solved. “Who am I?”

“Liz Parker. Actually, Elizabeth Anne Parker,” Max answers and then laughs lightly. “Liz, what’s this about?”

But she isn’t laughing. The majority of her dreams might have shown her glimpses of a romantic, caring, warm Max Evans, but the dream last night portrayed another side of Max. A side that left her very agitated. And how does he know her full name?

“Where were you at the day of the shooting?”

“The day of the shooting?”

Nice, he is trying to pretend that he has no idea of what she’s talking about.

“At the Crashdown, in September, 1999.”

“Uhm… I was there, having breakfast. You know me, Liz, I worshipped those blueberry pancakes.” The sight of his easy-going smile spreads warmth through her body, but she represses the sensation.

“What happened when the gun went off?”

“Uhm…” he scratches his ear, an act she finds completely endearing but unnervingly familiar. “I ducked and then I ran. I was shocked.”

“See, that’s not how I remember it,” Liz says. He might find her crazy after she tells him this, if he doesn’t already, but she needs to see his reaction. “You see, I have this crazy memory of me being shot that day. I have this memory of that bullet slicing through my skin, lodging in my stomach and then me lying on the floor, knowing I was going to die.”

“Liz…” his plea is low and even though the intimacy of how he says her name temporarily numbs her, she persists.

“And then the strangest thing happens. I’m on the floor, close to passing out, when I feel a hand against my stomach and I hear someone calling my name-“

“Really, Liz. I’m late, I have to go,” Max interrupts, but her hand snakes out, grabbing his. She can feel his trembles and she swallows. What’s going on here? Maybe she should stop. Maybe she is better off not knowing.

“-telling me to open my eyes. So I do and I’m floating.”

“Liz, are you sure you’re okay? You’re acting a bit strangely,” Max interjects.

“And then everything was fine. No bullet hole, no walking-into-the-white-light. Only you, Max.”

“Me?”

He looks at her strangely and she mentally walks around the faint trace of insecurity in his voice.

“Is this just in my head? Am I just imagining this?”

He hesitates and she waits, holding her breath. “Yes, Liz. I don’t know why you think that happened. I remember the gun going off and people screaming. I saw the men run out the door and I saw you run up to Maria. Then I left.”

She bites her lip in attempt to avert her tears from falling. She doesn’t know why his answer disappoints her. Of course he’s telling the truth. His story mimics Maria’s to a tee. I’m the crazy one, she realizes and, unknowingly, tears fall down her cheeks.

She gasps as his hand gently cradles her cheek and she looks up to find him very close, looking at her with concern and…something else. Her hand moves through the air and clasps down on top of his.

”Everything will be gone, Liz.”

“I want everything to be gone. Everything.”

The voices float through her head as she stares at Max and if her eyes hadn’t been confirming that Max’s hand constitutes all physical contact between the two, she could’ve sworn she is able to feel his lips against hers.

”I love you. More than you’ll ever know.”

“I think I know.”

“Do you want me to take you home?” he wonders and she nods automatically.

She doesn’t know that tears are presently running freely down her cheeks and that those same tears are worrying Max Evans. She doesn’t know that he wants nothing else than to take her in his arms and hold her tightly until her tears dry. She doesn’t know that he would rather kill himself before he actually answers those wishes.

He removes his hand from her cheek and coldness strikes her. She imagines that she can feel his concern wash over her, but that’s impossible. She is grateful when he grabs her hand and marvels over how his touch can warm her very core.

“How’s Michael?” she sniffles.

He appears surprised by her question. “He’s fine. He’s Michael.”

He says it like an inside joke and Liz wonders once again if they have more history together than what she is able to recall.

“And Isabel?”

Catching up with her line of thinking, his answers are more prepared, more controlled. “Isabel is doing well. She got married actually.”

“Oh yeah, I remember that.”

Max glances at her nervously.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Liz queries.

“I just… I didn’t think you would notice. Isabel and you were not really close.”

“That’s true,” Liz agrees. “But it was something of a thing, you know, because of the age difference.”

He chuckles softly and she feels a smile of her own spread over her face and she involuntarily squeezes his hand. He looks at her in silence and then jumps the bait, “Yeah, I wasn’t too happy about that in the beginning.”

“I can just imagine you being the typical over-protective brother,” Liz says and laughs softly, “What did you do? Break his nose?”

Max’s steps falter and she looks at him concerned. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah,” he clears his throat. “Yeah. Uhm… I actually did break his nose.”

“Oh…”

She isn’t sure why that perplexes her, but she isn’t allowed to ponder on it for too long before Max interrupts her train of thought.

“So, where do you live?”

“Over there,” Liz replies, pointing over to the main building on campus.

They walk in silence, the busy college world buzzing past in their peripheral vision.

“Max, what are you doing here?”

“I’m taking some courses,” Max replies easily.

“Obviously,” Liz smirks, “What kind of courses?”

“Ah, law…”

“Following in your dad’s footsteps, are you?”

Max smiles self-consciously, scratching his ear again. “Yeah.”

“And Michael?”

“He’s…doing some stuff here and there. He hasn’t really settled for one thing yet, I guess.” He looks at her intently. “How about you, Liz? How are things with you?”

She tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, unaware of the look of longing in Max’s eyes at the movement. “Things are good.” She smiles up at him. “Really good.”

“Still doing molecular biology?”

“How did you…?”

Max’s answer is light, perfectly believable. “You were always talking about it, in class.”

She smiles and scrunches her nose. “I was boring you, wasn’t I?”

“You could never bore me, Liz Parker,” Max answers softly and she turns surprised eyes towards him, but he is focusing his gaze on the ground.

She stops them and he seems slightly frightened as he observes her. “Max, what happened between us?”

“No-no-nothing happened,” Max stutters.

Liz studies his reaction closely. “Then why are you so nervous?”

“I’m not nervous,” Max denies.

“Every time I’m even slightly referring to us, as in us, you become like a blabbering idiot.”

“Gee, thanks, Liz. That was a blow to my manliness,” Max jokes.

“I’m serious, Max. Did something happen between us? I must’ve repressed it or something, but I can feel that there is something between us. Like a past. And I’m not just talking about bio classes.”

At least not the biology classes they teach in high school, she considers silently as a vision of naked skin tickles her mind.

Max smiles softly and lifts the hand clasping his to his mouth, kissing its back. “I wish I could say that there was, Liz. You don’t know how many times I’ve wished that something happened between us.”

How about now? The thought crept through her mind unnoticed, causing her to blush.

“I guess it just wasn’t meant to be,” he adds, and her chest constricts. Why does it feel like she has heard that phrase several times before? Too many times to be considered healthy…

I don't blame you. You had every right to feel that way, because what you felt is true. We don't belong together.

She’s taken aback by Max’s dark words in her head and hugs his hand tighter to prevent him from leaving. But he has to leave, because they have just reached the building.

“This is me,” Liz says sadly.

He only has eyes for her and gives a fleeting nod.

“Will I see you again?” She hates how desperate she sounds, but she can’t hide the fear of losing him again. Why didn’t they ever give it a try in high school? She has a feeling they would’ve been great together.

His eyes reflect her sadness and the seconds pass by too slowly for her to handle.

“Max?”

“I don’t know, Liz. I don’t know.”

His hand brushes up against her cheek, fluttering against her skin in an act of reverence, and her eyes drift closed.

“What did you do to me?” she whispers.

His answer breaks her heart. “What you asked me to.”



TBC...

Hello my pretties!

It is Friday on my side of Earth so I'm here with a new update. I'm gonna make it quick because I have my first final exam tomorrow and I should put some studying hours in today. But first, thank you all so much for the feedback! I can't tell you enough how much I appreciate it.

Eve - Your questions will (hopefully) be answered in this chapter.
Emma - I'm afraid so...
Kate - Maria's role in all of this will be quickly explained in the chapter after this.
Sylvia - To answer one of your questions with a question of my own ; When has Max ever been able to stay away from Liz?
clueless - Your questions will be answered in this chapter
AlwaysRoswell - Thank you!
Flamehair - If you think back to the last half of S2 *shivers in thought* at least I see enough reason for that to be forgotten... But hopefully this chapter will clear some things up
Mary A. - I'm glad that I was able to bring you out of lurkdom And I agree with you about the women thingy
Kath - Your answers will be answered (I hope so) in this chapter...
L. - Thank you so much!!
hazz - Hi hazz! You definitely have your analytic capabilities in place. And thank you for letting me know about the date. I blame it all on Final Exam stress...
Heavenli24 - I'm sure it's very difficult for Max, but Max has never been particularly good at staying away from Liz so I guess where she is he's gonna be even though it might cause himself hurt...
Dreamer-laure - I'll leave you to wonder a little bit more about Maria until the next chapter. There are reasons to why Liz did what she did and there are reasons to why Max did what he did. I hope that it is somewhat explained in this chapter
Elizabeth - Thank you! *muah*


There are some things about the whole Tess incidence that has been changed and it will become evident in this part.

Five

A large explosion rocks the ground beneath their feet and metallic larva spills out of the cave in front of her eyes as the transport device, more commonly known as the Granolith, disappears through the clouds.

She feels his arms clutching her tightly against his warm chest and she fights, God does she fight, to work up the courage to go through with her plan.

She is looking up at him as he turns his head towards her, after the Granolith has disappeared out of sight. But before he is given the opportunity to speak, she begins, “Max, we need to talk. Could you meet up with me in an hour, my place?”

She can tell that her request doesn’t surprise him. After everything that has transpired between them, it’s the least he expects.
“Okay,” he says.

The dream swirls and blurs, to seamlessly merge with a later event, as if the two events are irrevocably interwoven.

His fingers rap softy against her window and she pivots on her heels towards the sound. How many times has she seen him sitting outside her window like that, looking at her through that glass? Sadness gradually eats away at her strength as she unlocks the window for him and he climbs through.

“Thanks for coming,” she says.

The politeness causes Max to smile awkwardly and they both realize for a second how much things have changed between them.

“What’s up?” he asks casually.

“Uhm,” she wrings her hands in her lap as she takes a seat on the bed.

She can see the hesitation in Max’s movement as he sits down on her bed and she knows what memory is haunting him at that point. Should she tell him? It wasn’t on her agenda to tell him about the future version of him visiting her half a year ago. That visit from the future is currently so far into the past that it has taken on a surreal quality and more than once has Liz speculated about its existence and if in reality she was the one to push Max away, without the help of a certain long-haired man.

“Lots of things have happened recently,” she starts softly.

“Understatement,” Max mumbles and there’s resentment in his voice.

Alex’s death is at the foremost of her mind, but right behind falls Tess’ betrayal and her recent departure from earth. Tess almost succeeded in luring Max, Michael and Isabel away from Earth, but Liz’s discovery about the identity of her friend’s murderer created a last-minute obstacle in the path of those plans.

“I need to say something,” Max says before Liz has a chance to open her mouth. “Tess and I-“

“Please, Max, I don’t want to know,” Liz pleads.

“You need to know this, Liz,” Max protests. Liz nods numbly. “She…she got into my head. I won’t blame my behavior these last couple of weeks on her, because I’m accountable for my own actions, but she was close to leaving…uhm…irreparable damage.”

Liz swallows the nausea, not wanting to ask, but her curiosity gets the best out of her. “What do you mean?”

“She…she tried to seduce me…”

Liz looks away.

“Please, Liz…”

She reluctantly turns to face him again.

“After I saw you in bed with Kyle-“

”Max, about that-“

“No, let me continue.”

She sighs. “Okay.”

“I just… I lost something that night, Liz. I don’t know what, but…the only way to explain it is that it was easier to listen to Tess after that. Easier to believe her lies.”

“So it’s my fault,” Liz says grimly.

“Don’t do that,” Max warns.

“I’m not doing anything,” Liz snaps.

Max opens his mouth to deliver a sharp comment, but stops himself and sighs, rubbing his hands over his face. “I’m tired of fighting you, Liz. I miss us. I miss what we had.”

She remains quiet. What can she say about that? He kissed Tess soon after her arrival, which was the first time Liz had reasons to doubt his faithfulness, but Liz still believes that she herself is the one to blame, having arranged that bed scene with Kyle for Max to see and believe. Their fighting had started after that.

“When you were about to leave for Sweden, I thought I had lost you forever. Tess was there…”

Her heart begins to ache and she looks away, unable to look at him anymore. “What are you saying?” she whispers so quietly that he can barely make out the words.

“She… we went to the conservatorium and she… we…”

“Just say it already!” Liz cries.

“We kissed.”

Liz nods. It hurts. It hurts like hell. But he has the right to kiss another girl because, “We were not together. It’s okay.”

He looks down at his hands and continues to speak, and she wants to sink through the bed. He’s not finished. “The kiss grew…into more…and…clothes were removed.”

Liz is openly crying now. Is he trying to kill her? “So you had sex? Just say it, Max!”

“No. No, we didn’t.”

She didn’t know how much a confirmation would have shattered her world until he refuted her suspicions and she collapses in a heap of relieved tears.

He just looks at her as she cries, knowing that he lost the privilege to touch her a long time ago. It’s not his role to comfort her any longer.

After her sobs subside, he prods her gently, “What did you want to talk to me about?”

She wipes the tears off her cheeks and heaves a shuddering breath. “About Kyle. Just know that it never happened.”

Max stares at her. “What?”

“We didn’t have sex.”

Max looks at her dumbfounded. “What? Why…why would you make me believe that?”

She recognizes the concealed anger in his voice as expertly as she knows the insides of her back pocket. “I needed you to believe that I slept with Kyle.”

“Why?”

He’s hurt. Even through their badly severed connection she can feel it, thanks to his proximity.

She tiredly squeezes her eyes together. She is so tired of all of this. Which reminds her of what she has to do, why she has invited Max over.

“I can’t tell you.”

“Liz,” Max warns.

Liz jerks her head around to face him and fires him a warning glare. “Don’t even…”

He meets her eyes and must see the warning there, because he decides to suppress his instinct to boss people around.

“I…”

“Nothing good can come out of you knowing the reasons, Max,” Liz says. “I just needed you to know that nothing ever happened between Kyle and me. He helped me, without questions, so don’t ever blame him, okay?”

Max nods weakly and Liz takes another breath. “Okay… Now, for my request.”

“Your request?”

She hints fear in his eyes and she doesn’t blame him. They’ve been through enough to anticipate anything to be thrown in their direction, and that usually means bad news.

“I want out.”

“You want out,” he repeats, slowly.

“Yes, I want out. I want out of the alien abyss.”

“Liz, I… I’m sorry. I never meant to-“

“No, Max. Your apologies are too late. I can’t take this anymore. I want out. I want a normal life. I was lying to you before, the night before you found me with Kyle, about wanting a normal life. I was lying then, but I’m not lying now. These last months…” She stares off in the distance when Alex’s happy face flashes before her mental eye, “I can’t take it anymore. I want to be free.”

He stares at her for the longest time and she has to look away when she sees a tear tumble down his cheek, quickly followed by another.

“You want out?” he repeats thickly.

She just nods, not trusting her voice enough to speak. Why was he making her feel like she wanted to take back what she had wanted to tell him for weeks now? Long minutes of silence elapse before Max reaches over and grabs her hand from where it is resting in her lap. He wraps her much smaller hand in his two much larger ones.

As if his heart is being ripped out with the word he says, “Okay.”

“Okay?” Her voice sounds foreign to her own ears, sounds small and weak.

He brings her hand to his lips and places a kiss in the centre of her palm. “Okay.”

Her eyes wander over his face and she wonders if she should ask her next request. She could just move away from Roswell and start a new life. She does not have to ask this of him. Alex’s face once again springs up in her mind and she sighs deeply, regretfully. She wouldn’t be able to forget. She needs to forget. For the pain to go away, she needs to forget.

“Max,” she coaxes and he meets her eyes. She bites her lip and closes her eyes when she finishes her sentence, because she can’t bear the expression on his face when she tells him that she doesn’t want to remember him, remember them. “I need you to help me forget.”

“What do you mean?”

She hears his voice but her eyes remain closed. “Can you block memories? You can, right? I need you to remove all memories that are associated with…the alien abyss.”

She hangs her head when he doesn’t respond, but she can’t get herself to open her eyes and look at him.

“You want to forget?”

She hears the tears in his voice and it’s almost her undoing. “Yes. Is that possible?”

The restrained tears escape her as he softly cradles her face in his hands, turning her face towards him. It makes her wonder; is this it? Is he going to do it right now?

“Please, look at me?”

She takes a deep breath and opens her eyes. Max is crying, tears silently rolling down his cheeks, strongly contrasting the inner turmoil. Those eyes, the eyes that have the power to do anything to her. Make her laugh, cry, angry, snap, hurt, make her want him, comfort him, love him. Those eyes are filled with more anguish than she has ever known.

“Please, don’t,” she begs, not knowing what she is asking for. For him to not hurt? For him to stop making her look at him in this state? For him to not do what she just asked him to?

“I’ve screwed up so much since that day in September two years ago,” he says softly. “But you always remained pure. I don’t know why – how - I could lose track of that. I don’t know why I stopped listen to you, because I did. I did. I was too caught up in my own self-blame to realize that I was pushing you away. And when I did, it was too late and I could only push you further. It was weak, I admit. I could have – should have – fought harder. I should have fought for you, but I didn’t, and I’m so sorry, Liz. I’ve always loved you. Even when I was screaming at you, I loved you. I still don’t know how I could treat you like that, but I will be kicking myself for it for the rest of my life. I never wanted to hurt you-“

“Shh…” she silences, brushing the tears away from his cheeks with her thumb. “I love you, Max. I do. I just… my heart can’t take any more.”

He nods, resignation seeping out of his every pore.

“I need to think about it. Can I think about it?” he asks.

She closes her eyes and nods. She’s asking him to erase himself from her memory, of course he can think about it.

“I’ll be back tonight,” he whispers.

He pulls his hands away from her face, and prepares to stand, but she reaches out and puts her arms around his neck, pulling him close to her. She senses his surprise, but then he folds his arms around her back and hugs her tightly, desperately.

Liz turns in her sleep, tears wetting her pillow. But the dreamworld is not finished with her. It blurs and skips a couple of hours.


TBC...


I'm sorry to end it there, guys. The last chapter will be up next Friday. Thank you for reading!

I have to admit, I'm a little bit surprised at the strong reaction Liz's decision created. However, as some of you mentioned, I didn't find it highly unlikely for Liz to react that way. The main reason for her doing this (in my humble opinion as the writer ) would be her guilt for having changed the future which resulted in Alex's death. And she took the "easy" way out...

I want to thank you all so much from the bottom of my heart for reading, for leaving comments and for supporting this story with your beautiful words. One part of me is considering writing Max's POV of this whole thing (since there are so many unanswered questions) and I'll probably do it (if there's interest), if I've got the time. After my finals though.

And with that, I give you the final chapter. Thank you, everyone! *mwuah*


Six

She’s asleep when he enters the room, the exhaustion of the last couple of days taking its toll. He bends down to remove his shoes and softly moves across the floor. He looks down at her sleeping face and his chest constricts. She looks like an angel. Her face is so peaceful that he doesn’t want to wake her. But she has already sensed his presence and her eyes open.

“Hey,” she whispers groggily.

“Hey,” he whispers back, and kneels next to the bed, bringing his face level with hers. Against his better judgement, his hand moves to brush the hair away from her forehead.

“How are you?” Liz asks.

His smile is bittersweet. “I thought that was my question.”

“I know I’m asking a lot-“

He puts his finger to her lips, silencing her. “This is the least I can do.”

Her breath catches and she’s not sure if she’s happy or not. “You’re doing it?”

He leans forward and kisses her forehead. “Yes.”

“Thank you,” she says softly.

Max looks into her eyes and realizes at that moment that she forgives him for everything. Every hurtful word, every fight, each and every one of his missteps. Ironically, she forgives him when he is about to be erased from her memory.

She leans in, captures his lips, and their eyes drift close at the contact. Familiar sparks spread throughout their bodies. She’s not really aware of Max climbing up on the bed, covering her body with his as his lips continue their assault on hers. She suppresses a moan as he kisses down her neck, tracing her collarbone and her back arches against him as his hand crawls under her shirt and closes around her breast. “Max…”

He pulls back and she meets his eyes, realizing that he thinks he crossed the line.

She shakes her head at him. “Don’t stop. Please, don’t stop.”

He answers her plea by slowly, tantalizingly, opening one button at the time of her pyjama shirt. He halts for a second and looks at her face. “You’re so beautiful.”

She brings her hand up to touch his cheek. “So are you.”

He laughs, heart-brokenly, and moves his hands to the bottom of her shirt, sliding them under the material and as his hands, palms flat against her skin, move upwards they push the shirt open, revealing her stomach and breasts. He’s crying as he leans down to gently kiss the soft mould of her breast.

“So beautiful,” he says brokenly. He’s tugging at her resolve and she is close to giving in. They can work it out, right? She doesn’t have to move away. They can heal, even with the memories. Right?

His movements come to a halt and she angles her head to look at the top of his head. He looks at her stomach and slowly brushes his hand over the tanned skin, causing her to gasp, because a white light is being emitted from his hand and it’s tickling her nerve endings in the most pleasurable way. His movement has revealed the handprint on her stomach. The only physical proof of her healing. She hasn’t seen it since the days just after the incidence and she realizes that she has missed it. Missed having a visible sign of the wonder that is Max Evans.

“Will it show?” Liz wonders.

Max looks up at her and his eyes are trained on her as he kisses the handprint and it vanishes beneath his lips. “No…”

It occurs to her that he has already begun the erasing process and a tear slides out of the corner of her eye. He moves up her body and catches her lips, kissing her with an adoration she thought had died long ago. She is starting to regret her decision. “Max, maybe…”

But his mouth muffles her protests and she realizes that there’s no going back now. Max has decided that she needs her freedom and he wants her to have it. He wants her to be able to lead a normal life. Knowing that this is the end, she pushes upwards, pushing Max onto his back. She moves to straddle his waist and smiles at the look of wonder on his face. Returning the favor, she gladly shoulders the task of removing his sweater. He lifts his head off the pillow to facilitate the removal and she discards it on the floor next to the bed.

“It’s been a while,” she says in awe as her fingers trace the surface of his well-defined chest, the muscles hard to her touch, remembering that night at Michael’s apartment when they had been trying to obtain ‘clues’. She can feel the muscles ripple under her fingers, something that fascinates her to no end. He watches every expression flutter across her face and there are many of them as she explores his chest.

Her hair falls down around her face, tickling his skin when she bends down to graze the bronzed surface with her lips. He groans when her tongue encircles his nipple and he buries his hand in her hair. She takes her time to worship his chest, before traveling lower, following the only hair present on his otherwise hairless chest, where the strip disappears into his pants, hidden from her view.

Glancing up at him and finding him watching her intently, she begins to unbutton his jeans and pulls down the zipper. He helps slide the pants down his legs by sequentially lifting his lower body off the bed. Her eyes unhindered travel to the place that is still covered by his boxers and she can’t help but be fascinated by the masked bulge. This is new territory for her, but surprisingly she isn’t afraid. Since thoughts of sex first entered her mind as a sixth grader, Max has always been the natural choice. She has always envisioned herself losing her virginity to Max.

“Liz,” he calls softly and she meets his eyes. He smiles at her gently, probably fearing that she will be nervous, not knowing what to do. She slides up his body and he grimaces with pleasure.

“You’re so warm,” she says as she melts her naked chest with his.

“All because of you,” he says.

“And you’re such a smooth talker,” she adds.

She can see the effort he makes to smile but her attempt at joking only reminds him of how he has to give her up.

“Make love to me, Max,” she says.

His eyes snap back to her face and a giggle escapes her.

“Your wish is my command,” he answers, and for a second they are both sadden in a bittersweet manner about what her previous command is about to do to their lives.

He rolls them over so that Liz is once again on her back and proceeds to slowly remove her pyjama pants and, with her encouraging nod, her panties.

“I don’t know why we didn’t do this earlier,” he breathes regretfully, as his eyes travel down the length of her perfect – absolutely perfect – body.

“You thought it wasn’t safe, remember?”

He nods, blushing in shame. “At least now we’re sure.” Maria and Michael had already ascertained that for them. He removes his boxer on his own and positions himself against her, skin against skin, without a thread to separate them. They hold each other for awhile, just feeling, listening to each others’ heartbeats. Then Max starts moving, caressing every inch of her skin, memorizing, because it is the last time he will ever see her.

Liz writhes and moans under his touch, her cries of pleasure muffled by his mouth, but she needs more. “Max, please… I need you.”

He kisses her deeply as he positions himself and then plunges home. The sting of pain is intense but brief, quickly fading into the background as his hand brushes over the lower part of her abdomen, his hand glowing between them.

“You didn’t have to do that,” she says breathlessly.

His reply makes her smile. “I needed to.”

They are still, Max patiently waiting for Liz to accustom herself to having him inside of her and he spends his time raining kisses over her face.

“Please, Max,” she moans. “You’re killing me here.”

Afraid that he is hurting her, he stares down into her eyes in horror, but Liz dampers his fear by, with the heels of her feet, pushing him deeper inside of her, an action that causes them both to gasp. Taking the hint, Max starts moving inside of her.

His movements are slow at first, careful, remembering, but as their bodies heat up and lose touch with gravity, his movements increase and Max cries out seconds before Liz. Their sweaty bodies encircle each other and they become one as they breathe in unison. A thin sheen of white light envelopes them, encapsulating them in a soft warm humming. She feels his warm tears falling against her breast, as his head is buried in the crook of her neck.

“I love you,” she says softly. “I will always love you.”

“I love you,” he says thickly. “More than you’ll ever know.”

“I think I know,” she smiles sadly and kisses the top of his matted hair.

They lay like that for what seems like forever. In real time it’s two hours. Their protective capsule is keeping them warm and humming with pleasure as their nerve endings are kept depolarised. It’s like a chronic low-grade orgasm. Max is the one to pull away first, breaking the protective wall and raising on his elbows, which are positioned on either side of her body, and meets her eyes.

“How do you want to do this?” she asks quietly. She’s not even sure she wants to do this anymore.

“I’ll form a connection with you and then I search out every memory connected to Michael, Isabel…me, and I…remove it.”

Her smile is sorrowful. “I think we are already as connected as we can possibly be.”

He nods. He knows that much, being able to feel her blood rush through his blood vessels, the air she’s breathing in his lungs.

He stills for a second. “Everything will be gone, Liz.”

She swallows. “I want everything gone. Everything.”

He takes a deep breath and she feels him disappear into her head, and she stops him. “Wait!”

He looks up at her, hopefully, and her heart disintegrates. “Don’t remove you completely. Just everything that has to do with our time…after I found out. You can plant memories, right? Make me believe that we were only lab partners, but still hung out…?”

He nods. “One thing I learnt from Tess.”

She bites her lip and he realizes how much he is going to miss that act. “Will you take care of Maria for me? I talked this over with her and she wants out too. She said something about wherever I go, she’ll go.”

Max looks surprised. “What about Michael? He-he stayed for her.”

In that moment, Liz’s heart bleeds for Michael. “I know. It’s Maria’s decision. I don’t know why she made the choice she did.”

Max thinks of his best friend and then looks back at Liz and gives his agreement. “Yeah, I’ll help Maria.”

“Thank you,” Liz says softly. “Thank you for everything.” She hesitates and then says, “Goodbye, Max.”

She is crying when he kisses her one last time. “Goodbye, Liz.”

She closes her eyes and he enters her mind and commences the process of removing every smile, hug, kiss and caress. He removes every trace of pain, planting false memories of how Alex died and changing his and Liz’s relationship into purely platonic. Lastly, he puts her in deep sleep. He breaks the connection and pulls away from her warm body. With a wave of his hands he removes all traces of their lovemaking.

He dresses himself first, before dressing her. He could have dressed her ‘magically’, but he prefers the mechanical method as his fingers melancholically lingers against her skin, remorsefully covering her body in fabric.

“I won’t forget,” he whispers before climbing out the window and then he’s gone.

“Oh my God,” Liz whispers into her pillow. She can still feel the tingling from Max’s touch all over her body. She asked him to do it. She asked him to help her forget. And it worked, until Max unknowingly closed the distance between them by deciding to study in the same place as her.

“Oh my God,” she sobs, trying to drown the sounds in her pillow. She doesn’t want to wake Maria up. She can’t tell Maria now. It was Maria’s choice to stay away so she won’t ruin it for Maria.

Does she remember all? No, she only remembers what her dreams are showing her. She expects that there is a lot she has yet to see, yet to experience, a second time. Like Alex’s death. Something is telling her that it is going to be horrible and she shivers in the night. Should she try and find Max and ask him to repeat the process? To make her forget again?

Or does she want to remember instead? Has time healed her wounds or will they be reopened by the sudden realization of what is hidden in her past?

She leaves the false warmth of the bed and dons her robe. Soundlessly, she opens the door, careful not to stir Maria, and walks out into the corridor. She doesn’t know how she knows, she just follows the pull. The energy. She pushes the heavy wooden main door open and steps outside into the cool summer night breeze.

He is sitting on a bench on the other side of the large lawn that is spread out between the dorm and the library. She hurries over the lawn, her feet getting wet from the dew-affected grass. As she gets closer, he stands and opens his arms in invitation. She throws herself into his arms, burying her face against the safety of his chest. He envelopes her in his coat, hiding the two of them from the outside world.

“I want to remember,” she whispers and he smiles.



<center>THE END</center>

Hi there!

I've written the first part to the companion piece for this story. It's called "Prodigal Son" and can be found here.

A big hug to Kath for coming up with the title!!

- Jo