Someone's Watching Over Me (Mature, UC) 3/?Certain POVSeries
Posted: Wed Jul 18, 2007 11:15 am
"Someone's Watching Over Me"
A/N: It has come to my attention that there is already a fic by Itzstacie that bears this same title. This is not that fic, though I'm sure you can PM or email Stacie for the link. Credit to stacie for picking such a great name,
This is part three of my new series, A Certain Point of View. A series of song inspired fictions that will eventually end up Awakened Dreamer (Yay for Zan and Liz!) but for now this is their journey to that point and will also be random point of views for the majority of the Roswell cast. Part One: Faded Away, Zan POV and Part Two: Starts with Goodbye, Liz POV.
Also, for the purpose of this series, we’ll say that Tess wasn’t the ‘big evil’ she was in the show, but neither was she and Liz best bosom buddies. Alex did die in a car accident, but it was just that – an accident.
Disclaimer: Roswell belongs to Melinda Metz, Jason Katims, the WB, SciFi, etc. The song is Hilary Duff’s on her self-titled album Hilary Duff and belongs to her and her peeps. A good song, I really recommend it, even if it is from one of the reigning ‘teen-bopper’ artists.
Pairing: Eventual Awakened Dreamer but this fic Liz/Alex friendship – post- CYN.
~~~
Found myself today
Oh I found myself and ran away
Something pulled me back
The voice of reason I forgot I had
All I know is you're not here to say
What you always used to say
But it's written in the sky tonight
~~~
“Home again, home again, yippity-yay,” Liz sighed as she shifted the gears in her silver Dodge Viper GT-One convertible, driving down a familiar stretch of deserted highway.
The car had been a gift from a prospective suitor…one she thanked for his interest but turned him down nicely. At least he had been a gentleman, paying everything off and letting her keep the car since he had said it was a gift and not a bribe. She knew better than to drive even five above in a car like this so close to ‘civilization’; she promised herself she’d find a less flashy car but somehow she couldn’t bring herself to part with it every time she thought to put it on the market.
She swore she could feel Alex in the seat beside her every time she drove it, or just sat in it. She remembered the conversation he, Maria, and her had had about their dream car and this had been his. He’d fallen in love with the car off Viper: the Television show and she rolled her eyes at all the hi-tech gadgets he had excitedly rattled off that he wanted to install had the finances…if he could see her now.
That’s why she came to Roswell now.
To see him.
And her folks, naturally, but mostly this trip was about him.
It had been nearly three years since she’d left Roswell for good and she was going into fourth year of her Undergrad at the top of her class at the University of Florida, and found recently she had had this unusual yearning for the dry heat of the desert and to visit him in particular.
Three years without visiting his grave and she was in sore need to be able to touch where his body was at rest. It was one thing to talk to him when she was away – hey really smart people were eccentric and this was one of the ‘quirks’ she allowed herself – but she had this desire to feel that intimate connection as being in his ‘presence’. It was almost becoming to the point of obsession and incredible need, and if there was one thing Liz had learned in these years, was to heed what her instincts were telling her.
So she made ready to road trip it out back to Roswell, making it a sort of pre-senior year party and took her time enjoying the sites and enjoying being a ‘site’ young men looked at…and not just for her wonderful, guy induced to drool car. She said a bittersweet goodbye to the Aunt and Uncle and late in coming cousin and hit the road.
So here she was, three years older, but looking better than ever. Three years of sun and surf and practical non-stop vacation at the best vacation state ever had deepened her tan to an almost permanent golden sheen with a few freckles still sprinkling her nose and she’d cut off her hair into shoulder length, punky spikes and darkened the base color to an almost blood wine with some strategic auburn highlights courtesy a room-mate majoring in cosmetology. The effect was both stunning and exotic and among the better experiments her roomie had talked Liz into.
Gone also were the long, Puritan skirts and sweaters. She still wore her cargoes and her tanks, but mostly around the house. For going out and about campus, or just out for a night on the town, Florida Liz wore light and chic, her wardrobe having been seriously upgraded the same way her hair and appearance did, with the help of an eager-to-dote-upon aunt and the same roommate who at times reminded Liz of Ava.
Today, she dressed to go with her car. A pair of silver, strappy sandals with a slight heel adorned her feet with silver and navy polished toes peeking out, and a small butterfly toe ring graced the second smallest toe on her left foot. Lean, toned legs stretched unhindered up to mid thigh where the hem of the navy blue hipster skirt rested. But the slits that went up to dangerous levels provided an extra glimpse of skin.
A matching navy and silver slashed halter was banded at the bottom and came to a stop at the very edge of the skirt’s top, so if she raised her arms a small band of skin flashed teasingly of the taunt abs below. It also effectively hid the belly button piercing that had a small silver butterfly dangling from the uppermost post, but exposed the tiny blue, pink, and silver butterfly tattoo on her left shoulder blade.
On her wrists several blue and silver bangle bracelets hung, along with her watch set on a silver cuff. Her right wrist held a navy dyed leather cuff, and that hand bore three rings all of varying platinum and white gold bands. The band on her middle finger held diamond and sapphire chips studded along the top third of it’s length, the band on her ring was a simple small three diamond set, and the third was a simple band of platinum to match the diamond set. Yes, it was similar to an engagement set only not as elaborate, yes it was on the wrong hand, and it had only cost twenty-five dollars from Avon.
Liz’s University ring had the honored place on her left ring finger, and another band of silver on her left thumb and that was the extent of that. Her fingernail polish matched the color and design of her toes.
A small silver hoop graced both bottom ear piercings, with a small diamond chip set in silver on the next hole up, and a small sapphire chip set in silver on the piercing after that. Her left ear had the top part of the cartilage pierced through and she’d place a simple hoop there.
The outfit was completed by her makeup, a quick and classy fair of smoky eyeshadow and vivid mascara and eyeliner to enhance her large eyes and just a hint of silver-sheened gloss on her lips and she was done.
All in all…she looked good and she knew it.
She looked up at the passing sign, 285 North, and took a left, giving a wistful smile at the Welcome To Roswell: Home of the Aliens sign.
“If only they knew,” Liz murmured, shaking her head. She downshifted again, switching gears, and followed her memories.
~~~
So I won't give up
No I won't break down
Sooner than it seems life turns around
And I will be strong
Even if it all goes wrong
When I'm standing in the dark I'll still believe
Someone's watching over me
~~~
Liz’s little drive down memory lane took her past the Crashdown Café where her parents still owned, worked, and lived in the apartment above. She’d pop in and visit them later, afterward. She drove past the small town cinema, and the restaurant where she’d gone on that disastrous blind date with, what was his name again? Doug? Something like that.
She giggled as she remembered that stupid radio d.j. couldn’t get Kyle’s name right and kept calling him ‘Lyle’ after he and Max were caught in her room. That was the night Kyle had inadvertently got Max as drunk as he was…and the retelling was hilarious as well as the reliving of those brief moments.
Yes, she could even smile at memories of Max now…the good times that was. For time had truly taught her how to heal, and though it still hurt more often than not, the stabbing pain wasn’t there anymore and she realized she could actually breathe and live without Max Evans.
She drove past both high schools, laughing outright in passing West Roswell High, her school. School had just let out not even a couple days ago for the summer and those kids must be thrilled. All her friends would be graduated now, but only in their second year of college…if they made it that far.
Liz frowned at that negative thought. She felt that she would have known if any of ‘them’ had passed on, even Maria or Kyle. Besides which, she had a ‘spy’ into the Alien Abyss though he never let himself get sucked into it as deeply as she had. Kyle she knew for a fact was alive and kicking; he took great pains in torturing her in their almost daily calls, texts, emails, and instant messages to one another. He was just a little sore since he realized their respective universities were in different tournaments and divisions so they wouldn’t get to meet each other at a game but he took in stride.
She laughed as she recalled the email he had sent the other night.
They got married and are acting it! Help me Buddha! Obi-Wan Kenobi where are you? I’m now related to the DeLuca women!
Poor Kyle, she didn’t envy him the situation he was in at all. But at least Amy wasn’t so bad anymore. Maria and Tess on the other hand…nope, she didn’t envy Kyle one bit.
As she passed the familiar sights, a thousand memories assaulted her, and she relived each and every one of them. That corner there was where she and Alex planted the firecrackers to get back at the Mrs. Fernando’s menace to society Pomeranian and instead nearly blew up Mr. Cassidy’s prized Minx cat, Tar Tar.
Over by those swings was the park she, Alex, and Maria played at, having mock battles where their trusty servant –Alex- helped lead the Fairy Princes to the beautiful Princesses.
Every inch of this town had something attached to it, and it was like she almost saw Alex sitting in the passenger seat beside her out the corner of her eye, kind of bluish glowy like Obi-Wan in Star Wars after he died. A tear slipped down her eye and a sudden feeling swept over her, like one of Alex’s ‘manly’ hugs from the side, and if she had believed in ghosts she could have told everyone she was being hugged and comforted by a ghost.
While every mile she drove brought home the fact that Alex was no longer with her today, it also brought a smile and measure of peace, as if he were truly alive in all his Casper-ness there beside her.
Eventually, she came to her intended destination, and she carefully put her Viper in park, and set the emergency brake as the parking space was on a bit of an incline. She didn’t want to take any chances with her baby.
Stepping out of her car with all the confidence she’d garnered in her three years away, she tugged her skirt down to smooth it out and to make sure it hadn’t ridden up, grabbed her silver clutch with its thin strap, and a long, thin box to make her way through the beautiful layout of the cemetery.
It was a gorgeous day, a slight crisp one as the weather stubbornly clung to the coolness of spring but was fast loosing as summer officially neared. The air was bright and for once there wasn’t a speck of white clouds, of the fluffy or wispy kind, in sight so it made the sun seem all that more larger and brighter.
Liz paused as her shadow fell on the tombstone she sought: Alexander Charles Whitman.
~~~
Seen that ray of light
And it's shining on my destiny
Shining all the time
And I wont be afraid
To follow everywhere it's taking me
All I know is yesterday is gone
And right now I belong
To this moment to my dreams
~~~
“Hey, Alex, it’s been awhile. Well, not since I talked to you last, I talk to you every day out of the clear blue, make people think I’m crazy, but I’m going to discover the cure for cancer one day so a little craziness is part of the packaged deal,” Liz grinned as she put on fake airs.
She felt so Maria-like and wondered how she could ever have been so serious. Seriously deprived and oppressed, that was.
She slipped the thin strap of the purse around her neck and shoulders so it was crosswise on her and slipped her keys to nestle with her license, student id, two credit cards and one debit card, a small packet of tissue, mascara and lip gloss inside.
She crouched down and adjusted her skirt so it was decent, grateful she’d thought to get the low-heeled sandals and not the platforms, and then braced herself on the headstone, knowing Alex wouldn’t mind. She set the box down beside her.
“But this is the first time I’ve been able to talk to you ‘face-to-face’ so to speak so I’ll catch you up. Ya see that glistening silver piece of automotive perfection? That my baby. Some rich guy who figured I’d make a great addition to his collection bought it for me in hopes I’d say yes; I’d only been joking when I told him that was the car I wanted when he asked what he could buy me that would allow me to go on a date with him.
I never thought he’d actually buy it, much less actually let me keep it after that first and only date. He was such a gentleman; arrogant and slightly stuck up but a decent guy. It’s all paid for can you believe it…that and the insurance for a year so right now I have no worries at the moment. I want to get rid of it, I mean come on, Liz Parker in a Viper GT-One convertible! But every time I get ready to, you want to know what I think of? This was Alex’s dream car, and in some ways, it’s like a connection to you. That, and it kind of fits me you know? The person I’ve become, the person I’m going to be.”
Liz shifted to one leg slightly to relieve the pressure on one leg and resumed both her position and her narrative. The act of ‘talking’ to her best friend was cathartic in a way her aunt and her roomy had never been able to achieve, despite their best efforts.
“I changed my major. Don’t worry, I’m still going to be a scientist of a sort, but not in the way I had thought. I’m going to intern at the new MetaChem Pharmaceutical branch at night, in the Bio Research division. It’s located in the city and not too far from campus, so I can continue classes and all during the day. But, get this, I’m going to be a doctor! Well, the correct term is specialist but I’m going to specialize in oncology. Hopefully, maybe someday, I’ll find a cure for the type of brain tumor that causes stroke and seizures. The kind that made you have your accident and took you away from me, away from us.”
Tears once again slipped out and Liz carefully swiped them away with the edges of one hand.
“Look at me, I’m a blubbering mess and I’m getting mascara all over,” she laughed, sniffling. She looked down and caught sight of the long, thin box and smiled shakily.
“I brought you something. I hope you like them, I know I do, so I guess that means you’ll like ‘em too,” she giggled, prying open the box to reveal a set of flowers.
Two white roses surrounded a single rose so dark red it looked velvety black and purple. Little bunches of baby’s breath and white and cream carnations with those leaf and stem thingies completed the set, and Liz lovingly placed the arrangement in the built in vase at the base of the headstone, replacing a set of wilted carnations that someone had left previously.
These she placed thoughtfully back in the box her arrangement had come from and as she started to release them her whole arm tingled and she froze, waiting for the inevitable flash to arrive. Sure enough, it didn’t disappoint.
Isabel Ramirez stood before the final resting place of the first boy she’d ever truly cared about. She had come close to almost loving him, and some part of her regretted that she never could love him like he had her, but she was also thankful for everything he had done, all that he had shown her.
For Alexander Charles Whitman had opened herself to the possibility of love, of letting another person beneath that frigid Ice Princess mask and to not be afraid to be herself or go for what she wanted. It was that lesson which had come in very handy when dealing with her beloved, but annoying, brothers.
The pleasing result of that lesson learned stood behind her and gave her a comforting squeeze on the shoulder, and Isabel looked up at her husband of three years who had toiled and bore the hardship and tension of her secret, who smiled at her in love and best of all, acceptance.
‘Thank you, Alexander Charles Whitman, for all that you showed me. I’m sorry I could never love you like you wanted, but know that I did care. If it weren’t for you, I wouldn’t have been able to find myself…and find someone to love and be loved in return. So thank you.’
Isabel had tears streaming down her perfectly made up face, as she knelt and lovingly placed the simple but profound carnation arrangement in the vase at the base of the stone.
‘Good-bye, Alex,’ Isabel whispered, and then she was gone.
Liz blinked back tears for the umpteenth time since she came to Roswell, and she sniffled a little.
“Who would have thought the Ice Princess was really more Tin Man than we thought?”
A breeze stirred up and messed with Liz’s hair, and she laughed, brushing her stirred up hair out of her way.
“Okay, okay, I give! You did, you knew it, and you’re the man so stop messing with my hair!”
Just like that the breeze died down, and Liz blinked again, this time with a raised brow toward the headstone. Alexander Charles Whitman stared back out of a granite face. Shaking her head to clear it, Liz put the top back on the box and decided her ankles had had enough and sat down, her back pressed against the cool stone.
~~~
So I won't give up
No I won't break down
Sooner than it seems life turns around
And I will be strong
Even if it all goes wrong
When I'm standing in the dark I'll still believe
Someone's watching over me
~~~
“They all hate me, you know. After what I did, I don’t blame them,” Liz gave a tired bark of laughter. She tilted her head back, resting it against Alex’s tombstone, sighing into the warmth of the sun which had shifted position slightly as the day grew longer.
“I never in a million years thought it would ever come to this. But he asked me to, and I had to go along with it. I loved him so much, when he asked me to break his heart, I did.”
With her eyes closed and feeling the warmth and light through closed lids, she began again as a soft, cool breeze caressed her skin but didn’t blow any hair in her face like before.
“He came to me, said he was from the future. He looked like him, talked like him…looked at me the same way He did. And he knew things. Things that were going to happen, things that I had only told Him, no offense to you but you were dead pal,” Liz gave the granite base she was resting on a comforting pat.
“Once he convinced me he was really from the future, he told me what was going to happen. In fourteen years, everything is ruined. Khivar came and attacked with Nicolas and the rest of the Skins, Tess leading them and we couldn’t defend since Tess had been the fourth, the four in foursquare, and the three weren’t enough. He told me Isabel had died two weeks before he came, and he had held Michael’s body just moments before he had to leave, before he came to me.”
Liz brought her legs in close and absently smoothed the skirt in place but couldn’t do anything about the slits or large portion of thigh she showed. She wrapped her arms around her knees and propped her chin on them.
For a moment she was quiet, just taking in the stillness of cemetery, the heat that was only dry and not oppressing like the humidity of her adopted state, and listened to the quiet.
But the story had to be told, and first she’d tell Alex, then she’d tell Kyle, her sweet, dependable Kyle, her best friend. Kyle had loyally and faithfully stood up with her and against the Pod Squad after the initial weirdness a few months later. He deserved to know why he got the reputation as “Perfect Parker’s first” and why her father suddenly didn’t like him hanging around anymore.
“He told me I had to make him fall out of love with me. And he told me that he had to fulfill Destiny,” she spat that hated word out, “and that I had to make sure he wouldn’t come crawling back to me, begging for me to take him back. As if Mr. High and Mighty Royalty would ever stoop so low.”
She shook her head.
“Off topic. So I did. With Future Max’s help I staged it where Max could see Kyle and I naked together, acting like we had, well, you know…oh, how did Ava put it? Do ‘da beast wit two backs’,” she giggled, imagining the punk queen dupe and her loveable if difficult to understand Manhattan accent. “And before you ask, no, Kyle and I didn’t ‘do da beast’…still one hundred percent not quite as mentally but still physically pure virgin. Though I did have a few serious make out sessions with some guys which usually involved me getting a tad bit drunk before hand. Luckily, I have a room mate who looks out for me, and has saved me from making that big mistake a couple times. Moral of that story…Lizzie and alcohol do not mix. At all.”
“Anyway, Max ‘caught’ us, and he looked so hurt. But he didn’t do anything and that’s what gets me. He didn’t do anything. Remember when Michael underwent that balancing shit a while back? Where at the end I got the whole, stepping back speech, and the next few days he glared at anything male that came near me Kyle in particular and got all quietly and menacingly jealous? Well…I kind of expected something like that to happen but nothing! Nothing happened. What does that tell you? After all the spiel about him loving me forever, we’re soulmates,,” Liz put ‘soulmates’ in air quotes, “blah, blah, woof, woof, and all that glitters ain’t gold, when confronted with the obvious ‘proof’ of supposed infidelity on his ‘true loves’’ part, what does he do? Nothing!”
So irritated she launched herself off the tombstone to pace in front of the grave, brushing her bottom off, as she ranted some more.
“Mr. Soulful Eyes just gets all hurt puppy doggish and leaves! I mean, you figure if I really meant all that he spouted off he’d have at least come in through the window and given Kyle grief until I could do the whole offended lover spiel. But no! It was like I had just been some passing fling, but one that he had to make sure I knew what I was missing for my ‘mistake’ by flaunting it with that blond bimbo from the planet emotionally constipated. I mean, where does he get off? He was the one who had been lip locking and tongue warring with the bitch while he and I were still going out and he has the nerve to say I was the cheating whore? Oohh…it still makes me mad!”
Liz flung out her arms in emphasis, bringing them back down to rest on her hips, one foot tapping on the ground in annoyance. She huffed a breath out, blowing one of her bangs out of her way, and glaring at nothing in particular.
“But that wasn’t the worst part. Oh, no! Dear beloved Max goes tell big sister Isabel, who wasn’t my biggest fan anyway, and she gets all offended for me breaking his friggin heart! And naturally, Michael is going to side with Max, Tess, and Isabel because….well…because he’s Michael and I’m not one of them, the Czechs, Inner Circle or whatever. So I get it from the Squared Four and you’re not there to help, and the one person I thought I could count on turns her back on me!
Granted I know she and Michael were dating an all…but, hello didn’t she hear about a little thing called conflict of interest? She should have at least been a neutral party but noooo…she was so far up wanting to be stuck up Michael’s ass that…arrgh!”
Liz flung herself to sprawl on the ground by the tombstone, looking for the entire world disgruntled and her face red from her passionate exertion. She pouted and turned to face Alex’s tombstone.
“She called me a whore, a traitorous, moral-less, selfish skank who thought only of her poor, feebleminded self and not about any one else. Oh, and how about how I tromped all over poor Maxie poo’s feelings like a cruel hearted bitch? That hurt the most, Alex. My one, remaining best friend in this frickin world and she bails on me. I know I had acted out of character, but that was only because Future Max said, and honestly? I didn’t think any of them could believe that of me. I mean, hello, ‘Perfect Lizzie Parker’ here, did they really think that little of me that I could do that for real?”
Liz curled up in a fetal ball, crying almost four years worth of pain and heartache that had started with Alex’s death and only culminating with the showdown that made her decide to leave Roswell for good.
As she cried, another breeze came up to surround her, and through her grief Liz tried to quiet her sobs down and listen to a familiar voice speaking:
It doesn't matter what people say
And it doesn't matter how long it takes
Believe in yourself and you'll fly high
And it only matters how true you are
Be true to yourself and follow your heart
~~~
So I won't give up
No I won't break down
Sooner than it seems life turns around
And I will be strong
Even if it all goes wrong
When I'm standing in the dark I'll still believe
That I won't give up
No I won't break down
Sooner than it seems life turns around
And I will be strong
Even when it all goes wrong
When I'm standing in the dark I'll still believe
That someone's watching over
Someone's watching over
Someone's watching over me
~~~
The softly spoken words lifted Liz’s spirits in a way that she desperately needed, and she took a minute composing her self.
She knew her makeup was a mess right now, but that was okay, she could fix it when she got back to the car and besides, Alex had seen her as a pimple faced, acne creamed gangly short fry so a few streaks of mascara wouldn’t scare him into an early grave.
“Thanks, Alex. You’ve always been there for me, no matter what, and many times I hadn’t deserved it. But you always carry me through, even when you can’t carry me any more.”
Liz smiled brokenly at the grave that held the remains of her best friend, singular, in the galaxy.
“This universe blows,” she laughed, quoting their favorite Boy Meets World episode. She caressed the grooves that formed the words Alexander Charles Whitman and gave another, wistful smile.
“I wish you were here with me right now, but that would be selfish. Or not. If you hadn’t have died, I would probably still be mooning over King Nothing and wasting away for his approval. I would have never left New Mexico, I wouldn’t have graduated early and got into college. I wouldn’t have met my new cousin. Finally, after almost twenty one years I have a cousin!”
“I wouldn’t have gone to the University of Florida, or learned to water ski, jet ski, scuba and free dive or hell, even truly swim. I wouldn’t have realized that Harvard just wasn’t what I wanted and that my dreams had adapted to fit who I had become, not the ideal me. I certainly wouldn’t have gotten my makeover or that fucking awesome car to go with it,” Liz grinned, eyes finally regaining the sparkle and confidence that had marked the young woman who had first entered the cemetery.
“I would have missed out on so much if only…who knows, maybe since your death kinda helped factor in with the whole break up with Max dealio, who turned out to be the big major NOT love of my life…maybe I finally will find him. He doesn’t have to be Mr. Right or Mr. Perfect…just Mr. What I Want and Need. Anyway,” Liz stood up, dusting herself off and, after making sure she was in the clear, using a little of her ‘Samantha Genie’ enhanced abilities to clean herself off. She also floated the used box to come to her hand and she ‘melted’ it, making it disappear.
“One good thing about being touched by the alien abyss is some really nifty maintenance aides,” she joked as she clapped her hands together to rid the last of the dirt, real or imaginary.
“I don’t know when the next time I’ll get to see you, when I’m able to get here physically, again. I know I’ll see you before I leave for Florida again, but after that I’m iffy. So…I guess this isn’t goodbye. Yet. It’s more of a…well, a see you later kind of deal. So…I’ll see you later. I love you Alexander Charles Whitman.”
She gave the cool granite face a light kiss and then she turned to walk away.
“Oh! Before I forget,” Liz looked over her shoulder and gave ‘Alex’ a wicked smile. “The Viper’s name is The Whit, sharpest piece of metal on tarmac. See ya!”
With a final wave, Liz left to seek her car out.
~~~
A cool breeze stirred the lone flowers in a vase attached to a tombstone reading Alexander Charles Whitman. Some loose grass and other debris swirled in the current and it seemed to coalesce into an almost human form to ‘sit’ on the tombstone.
Another form stepped out from around a mindwarp to stare out after the retreating brunette, something akin to longing in his dark, dark eyes. He came to stand by the tombstone that had Called to him since he came into Cracker Jack Mayberry, and he canted his head in Liz’s departing figure.
“So dat’s yo girl Lizzie,” he grunted out more as a statement than a question.
“Yup,” Alex nodded, his form all blue and Star Wars-esque glowy as he too watched his friend drive off. “So?”
“So what?” the more solid figure asked as he rubbed his chin stud absently, idly fingering the blunt spike thoughtfully even as his tongue came out to run its piercing along his lips, playing with the little skull at the top end of the piercing. Both were signs he was in serious thinking.
Alex rolled his ‘eyes’ and concentrated to make his hand solid enough to hit the other man.
“So…” Alex prompted, raising his eyebrows and waggling them expectantly.
“She not bad.”
“Not bad! Why if I hadn’t been head over heels with Isabel since the third grade I would have fallen for her! Look at her, she’s…”
“She’s flawed, broken, splintered. Perfect.”
Alex fell silent and watched his friend quietly before turning his gaze the way his Lizzie had gone.
“She named her car after me.”
The quiet words received only silence in reply.
“Watch over her for me. Please.”
“No prob, bro. I’m da Man after all.”
Zan smirked as he bumped fists with his fellow ‘ghost’ and then knelt to place a single strand of wild honeysuckle woven around the vase of flowers before turning follow the same path Liz walked.
~~~
Someone's watching over me
~~~
A/N: It has come to my attention that there is already a fic by Itzstacie that bears this same title. This is not that fic, though I'm sure you can PM or email Stacie for the link. Credit to stacie for picking such a great name,
This is part three of my new series, A Certain Point of View. A series of song inspired fictions that will eventually end up Awakened Dreamer (Yay for Zan and Liz!) but for now this is their journey to that point and will also be random point of views for the majority of the Roswell cast. Part One: Faded Away, Zan POV and Part Two: Starts with Goodbye, Liz POV.
Also, for the purpose of this series, we’ll say that Tess wasn’t the ‘big evil’ she was in the show, but neither was she and Liz best bosom buddies. Alex did die in a car accident, but it was just that – an accident.
Disclaimer: Roswell belongs to Melinda Metz, Jason Katims, the WB, SciFi, etc. The song is Hilary Duff’s on her self-titled album Hilary Duff and belongs to her and her peeps. A good song, I really recommend it, even if it is from one of the reigning ‘teen-bopper’ artists.
Pairing: Eventual Awakened Dreamer but this fic Liz/Alex friendship – post- CYN.
~~~
Found myself today
Oh I found myself and ran away
Something pulled me back
The voice of reason I forgot I had
All I know is you're not here to say
What you always used to say
But it's written in the sky tonight
~~~
“Home again, home again, yippity-yay,” Liz sighed as she shifted the gears in her silver Dodge Viper GT-One convertible, driving down a familiar stretch of deserted highway.
The car had been a gift from a prospective suitor…one she thanked for his interest but turned him down nicely. At least he had been a gentleman, paying everything off and letting her keep the car since he had said it was a gift and not a bribe. She knew better than to drive even five above in a car like this so close to ‘civilization’; she promised herself she’d find a less flashy car but somehow she couldn’t bring herself to part with it every time she thought to put it on the market.
She swore she could feel Alex in the seat beside her every time she drove it, or just sat in it. She remembered the conversation he, Maria, and her had had about their dream car and this had been his. He’d fallen in love with the car off Viper: the Television show and she rolled her eyes at all the hi-tech gadgets he had excitedly rattled off that he wanted to install had the finances…if he could see her now.
That’s why she came to Roswell now.
To see him.
And her folks, naturally, but mostly this trip was about him.
It had been nearly three years since she’d left Roswell for good and she was going into fourth year of her Undergrad at the top of her class at the University of Florida, and found recently she had had this unusual yearning for the dry heat of the desert and to visit him in particular.
Three years without visiting his grave and she was in sore need to be able to touch where his body was at rest. It was one thing to talk to him when she was away – hey really smart people were eccentric and this was one of the ‘quirks’ she allowed herself – but she had this desire to feel that intimate connection as being in his ‘presence’. It was almost becoming to the point of obsession and incredible need, and if there was one thing Liz had learned in these years, was to heed what her instincts were telling her.
So she made ready to road trip it out back to Roswell, making it a sort of pre-senior year party and took her time enjoying the sites and enjoying being a ‘site’ young men looked at…and not just for her wonderful, guy induced to drool car. She said a bittersweet goodbye to the Aunt and Uncle and late in coming cousin and hit the road.
So here she was, three years older, but looking better than ever. Three years of sun and surf and practical non-stop vacation at the best vacation state ever had deepened her tan to an almost permanent golden sheen with a few freckles still sprinkling her nose and she’d cut off her hair into shoulder length, punky spikes and darkened the base color to an almost blood wine with some strategic auburn highlights courtesy a room-mate majoring in cosmetology. The effect was both stunning and exotic and among the better experiments her roomie had talked Liz into.
Gone also were the long, Puritan skirts and sweaters. She still wore her cargoes and her tanks, but mostly around the house. For going out and about campus, or just out for a night on the town, Florida Liz wore light and chic, her wardrobe having been seriously upgraded the same way her hair and appearance did, with the help of an eager-to-dote-upon aunt and the same roommate who at times reminded Liz of Ava.
Today, she dressed to go with her car. A pair of silver, strappy sandals with a slight heel adorned her feet with silver and navy polished toes peeking out, and a small butterfly toe ring graced the second smallest toe on her left foot. Lean, toned legs stretched unhindered up to mid thigh where the hem of the navy blue hipster skirt rested. But the slits that went up to dangerous levels provided an extra glimpse of skin.
A matching navy and silver slashed halter was banded at the bottom and came to a stop at the very edge of the skirt’s top, so if she raised her arms a small band of skin flashed teasingly of the taunt abs below. It also effectively hid the belly button piercing that had a small silver butterfly dangling from the uppermost post, but exposed the tiny blue, pink, and silver butterfly tattoo on her left shoulder blade.
On her wrists several blue and silver bangle bracelets hung, along with her watch set on a silver cuff. Her right wrist held a navy dyed leather cuff, and that hand bore three rings all of varying platinum and white gold bands. The band on her middle finger held diamond and sapphire chips studded along the top third of it’s length, the band on her ring was a simple small three diamond set, and the third was a simple band of platinum to match the diamond set. Yes, it was similar to an engagement set only not as elaborate, yes it was on the wrong hand, and it had only cost twenty-five dollars from Avon.
Liz’s University ring had the honored place on her left ring finger, and another band of silver on her left thumb and that was the extent of that. Her fingernail polish matched the color and design of her toes.
A small silver hoop graced both bottom ear piercings, with a small diamond chip set in silver on the next hole up, and a small sapphire chip set in silver on the piercing after that. Her left ear had the top part of the cartilage pierced through and she’d place a simple hoop there.
The outfit was completed by her makeup, a quick and classy fair of smoky eyeshadow and vivid mascara and eyeliner to enhance her large eyes and just a hint of silver-sheened gloss on her lips and she was done.
All in all…she looked good and she knew it.
She looked up at the passing sign, 285 North, and took a left, giving a wistful smile at the Welcome To Roswell: Home of the Aliens sign.
“If only they knew,” Liz murmured, shaking her head. She downshifted again, switching gears, and followed her memories.
~~~
So I won't give up
No I won't break down
Sooner than it seems life turns around
And I will be strong
Even if it all goes wrong
When I'm standing in the dark I'll still believe
Someone's watching over me
~~~
Liz’s little drive down memory lane took her past the Crashdown Café where her parents still owned, worked, and lived in the apartment above. She’d pop in and visit them later, afterward. She drove past the small town cinema, and the restaurant where she’d gone on that disastrous blind date with, what was his name again? Doug? Something like that.
She giggled as she remembered that stupid radio d.j. couldn’t get Kyle’s name right and kept calling him ‘Lyle’ after he and Max were caught in her room. That was the night Kyle had inadvertently got Max as drunk as he was…and the retelling was hilarious as well as the reliving of those brief moments.
Yes, she could even smile at memories of Max now…the good times that was. For time had truly taught her how to heal, and though it still hurt more often than not, the stabbing pain wasn’t there anymore and she realized she could actually breathe and live without Max Evans.
She drove past both high schools, laughing outright in passing West Roswell High, her school. School had just let out not even a couple days ago for the summer and those kids must be thrilled. All her friends would be graduated now, but only in their second year of college…if they made it that far.
Liz frowned at that negative thought. She felt that she would have known if any of ‘them’ had passed on, even Maria or Kyle. Besides which, she had a ‘spy’ into the Alien Abyss though he never let himself get sucked into it as deeply as she had. Kyle she knew for a fact was alive and kicking; he took great pains in torturing her in their almost daily calls, texts, emails, and instant messages to one another. He was just a little sore since he realized their respective universities were in different tournaments and divisions so they wouldn’t get to meet each other at a game but he took in stride.
She laughed as she recalled the email he had sent the other night.
They got married and are acting it! Help me Buddha! Obi-Wan Kenobi where are you? I’m now related to the DeLuca women!
Poor Kyle, she didn’t envy him the situation he was in at all. But at least Amy wasn’t so bad anymore. Maria and Tess on the other hand…nope, she didn’t envy Kyle one bit.
As she passed the familiar sights, a thousand memories assaulted her, and she relived each and every one of them. That corner there was where she and Alex planted the firecrackers to get back at the Mrs. Fernando’s menace to society Pomeranian and instead nearly blew up Mr. Cassidy’s prized Minx cat, Tar Tar.
Over by those swings was the park she, Alex, and Maria played at, having mock battles where their trusty servant –Alex- helped lead the Fairy Princes to the beautiful Princesses.
Every inch of this town had something attached to it, and it was like she almost saw Alex sitting in the passenger seat beside her out the corner of her eye, kind of bluish glowy like Obi-Wan in Star Wars after he died. A tear slipped down her eye and a sudden feeling swept over her, like one of Alex’s ‘manly’ hugs from the side, and if she had believed in ghosts she could have told everyone she was being hugged and comforted by a ghost.
While every mile she drove brought home the fact that Alex was no longer with her today, it also brought a smile and measure of peace, as if he were truly alive in all his Casper-ness there beside her.
Eventually, she came to her intended destination, and she carefully put her Viper in park, and set the emergency brake as the parking space was on a bit of an incline. She didn’t want to take any chances with her baby.
Stepping out of her car with all the confidence she’d garnered in her three years away, she tugged her skirt down to smooth it out and to make sure it hadn’t ridden up, grabbed her silver clutch with its thin strap, and a long, thin box to make her way through the beautiful layout of the cemetery.
It was a gorgeous day, a slight crisp one as the weather stubbornly clung to the coolness of spring but was fast loosing as summer officially neared. The air was bright and for once there wasn’t a speck of white clouds, of the fluffy or wispy kind, in sight so it made the sun seem all that more larger and brighter.
Liz paused as her shadow fell on the tombstone she sought: Alexander Charles Whitman.
~~~
Seen that ray of light
And it's shining on my destiny
Shining all the time
And I wont be afraid
To follow everywhere it's taking me
All I know is yesterday is gone
And right now I belong
To this moment to my dreams
~~~
“Hey, Alex, it’s been awhile. Well, not since I talked to you last, I talk to you every day out of the clear blue, make people think I’m crazy, but I’m going to discover the cure for cancer one day so a little craziness is part of the packaged deal,” Liz grinned as she put on fake airs.
She felt so Maria-like and wondered how she could ever have been so serious. Seriously deprived and oppressed, that was.
She slipped the thin strap of the purse around her neck and shoulders so it was crosswise on her and slipped her keys to nestle with her license, student id, two credit cards and one debit card, a small packet of tissue, mascara and lip gloss inside.
She crouched down and adjusted her skirt so it was decent, grateful she’d thought to get the low-heeled sandals and not the platforms, and then braced herself on the headstone, knowing Alex wouldn’t mind. She set the box down beside her.
“But this is the first time I’ve been able to talk to you ‘face-to-face’ so to speak so I’ll catch you up. Ya see that glistening silver piece of automotive perfection? That my baby. Some rich guy who figured I’d make a great addition to his collection bought it for me in hopes I’d say yes; I’d only been joking when I told him that was the car I wanted when he asked what he could buy me that would allow me to go on a date with him.
I never thought he’d actually buy it, much less actually let me keep it after that first and only date. He was such a gentleman; arrogant and slightly stuck up but a decent guy. It’s all paid for can you believe it…that and the insurance for a year so right now I have no worries at the moment. I want to get rid of it, I mean come on, Liz Parker in a Viper GT-One convertible! But every time I get ready to, you want to know what I think of? This was Alex’s dream car, and in some ways, it’s like a connection to you. That, and it kind of fits me you know? The person I’ve become, the person I’m going to be.”
Liz shifted to one leg slightly to relieve the pressure on one leg and resumed both her position and her narrative. The act of ‘talking’ to her best friend was cathartic in a way her aunt and her roomy had never been able to achieve, despite their best efforts.
“I changed my major. Don’t worry, I’m still going to be a scientist of a sort, but not in the way I had thought. I’m going to intern at the new MetaChem Pharmaceutical branch at night, in the Bio Research division. It’s located in the city and not too far from campus, so I can continue classes and all during the day. But, get this, I’m going to be a doctor! Well, the correct term is specialist but I’m going to specialize in oncology. Hopefully, maybe someday, I’ll find a cure for the type of brain tumor that causes stroke and seizures. The kind that made you have your accident and took you away from me, away from us.”
Tears once again slipped out and Liz carefully swiped them away with the edges of one hand.
“Look at me, I’m a blubbering mess and I’m getting mascara all over,” she laughed, sniffling. She looked down and caught sight of the long, thin box and smiled shakily.
“I brought you something. I hope you like them, I know I do, so I guess that means you’ll like ‘em too,” she giggled, prying open the box to reveal a set of flowers.
Two white roses surrounded a single rose so dark red it looked velvety black and purple. Little bunches of baby’s breath and white and cream carnations with those leaf and stem thingies completed the set, and Liz lovingly placed the arrangement in the built in vase at the base of the headstone, replacing a set of wilted carnations that someone had left previously.
These she placed thoughtfully back in the box her arrangement had come from and as she started to release them her whole arm tingled and she froze, waiting for the inevitable flash to arrive. Sure enough, it didn’t disappoint.
Isabel Ramirez stood before the final resting place of the first boy she’d ever truly cared about. She had come close to almost loving him, and some part of her regretted that she never could love him like he had her, but she was also thankful for everything he had done, all that he had shown her.
For Alexander Charles Whitman had opened herself to the possibility of love, of letting another person beneath that frigid Ice Princess mask and to not be afraid to be herself or go for what she wanted. It was that lesson which had come in very handy when dealing with her beloved, but annoying, brothers.
The pleasing result of that lesson learned stood behind her and gave her a comforting squeeze on the shoulder, and Isabel looked up at her husband of three years who had toiled and bore the hardship and tension of her secret, who smiled at her in love and best of all, acceptance.
‘Thank you, Alexander Charles Whitman, for all that you showed me. I’m sorry I could never love you like you wanted, but know that I did care. If it weren’t for you, I wouldn’t have been able to find myself…and find someone to love and be loved in return. So thank you.’
Isabel had tears streaming down her perfectly made up face, as she knelt and lovingly placed the simple but profound carnation arrangement in the vase at the base of the stone.
‘Good-bye, Alex,’ Isabel whispered, and then she was gone.
Liz blinked back tears for the umpteenth time since she came to Roswell, and she sniffled a little.
“Who would have thought the Ice Princess was really more Tin Man than we thought?”
A breeze stirred up and messed with Liz’s hair, and she laughed, brushing her stirred up hair out of her way.
“Okay, okay, I give! You did, you knew it, and you’re the man so stop messing with my hair!”
Just like that the breeze died down, and Liz blinked again, this time with a raised brow toward the headstone. Alexander Charles Whitman stared back out of a granite face. Shaking her head to clear it, Liz put the top back on the box and decided her ankles had had enough and sat down, her back pressed against the cool stone.
~~~
So I won't give up
No I won't break down
Sooner than it seems life turns around
And I will be strong
Even if it all goes wrong
When I'm standing in the dark I'll still believe
Someone's watching over me
~~~
“They all hate me, you know. After what I did, I don’t blame them,” Liz gave a tired bark of laughter. She tilted her head back, resting it against Alex’s tombstone, sighing into the warmth of the sun which had shifted position slightly as the day grew longer.
“I never in a million years thought it would ever come to this. But he asked me to, and I had to go along with it. I loved him so much, when he asked me to break his heart, I did.”
With her eyes closed and feeling the warmth and light through closed lids, she began again as a soft, cool breeze caressed her skin but didn’t blow any hair in her face like before.
“He came to me, said he was from the future. He looked like him, talked like him…looked at me the same way He did. And he knew things. Things that were going to happen, things that I had only told Him, no offense to you but you were dead pal,” Liz gave the granite base she was resting on a comforting pat.
“Once he convinced me he was really from the future, he told me what was going to happen. In fourteen years, everything is ruined. Khivar came and attacked with Nicolas and the rest of the Skins, Tess leading them and we couldn’t defend since Tess had been the fourth, the four in foursquare, and the three weren’t enough. He told me Isabel had died two weeks before he came, and he had held Michael’s body just moments before he had to leave, before he came to me.”
Liz brought her legs in close and absently smoothed the skirt in place but couldn’t do anything about the slits or large portion of thigh she showed. She wrapped her arms around her knees and propped her chin on them.
For a moment she was quiet, just taking in the stillness of cemetery, the heat that was only dry and not oppressing like the humidity of her adopted state, and listened to the quiet.
But the story had to be told, and first she’d tell Alex, then she’d tell Kyle, her sweet, dependable Kyle, her best friend. Kyle had loyally and faithfully stood up with her and against the Pod Squad after the initial weirdness a few months later. He deserved to know why he got the reputation as “Perfect Parker’s first” and why her father suddenly didn’t like him hanging around anymore.
“He told me I had to make him fall out of love with me. And he told me that he had to fulfill Destiny,” she spat that hated word out, “and that I had to make sure he wouldn’t come crawling back to me, begging for me to take him back. As if Mr. High and Mighty Royalty would ever stoop so low.”
She shook her head.
“Off topic. So I did. With Future Max’s help I staged it where Max could see Kyle and I naked together, acting like we had, well, you know…oh, how did Ava put it? Do ‘da beast wit two backs’,” she giggled, imagining the punk queen dupe and her loveable if difficult to understand Manhattan accent. “And before you ask, no, Kyle and I didn’t ‘do da beast’…still one hundred percent not quite as mentally but still physically pure virgin. Though I did have a few serious make out sessions with some guys which usually involved me getting a tad bit drunk before hand. Luckily, I have a room mate who looks out for me, and has saved me from making that big mistake a couple times. Moral of that story…Lizzie and alcohol do not mix. At all.”
“Anyway, Max ‘caught’ us, and he looked so hurt. But he didn’t do anything and that’s what gets me. He didn’t do anything. Remember when Michael underwent that balancing shit a while back? Where at the end I got the whole, stepping back speech, and the next few days he glared at anything male that came near me Kyle in particular and got all quietly and menacingly jealous? Well…I kind of expected something like that to happen but nothing! Nothing happened. What does that tell you? After all the spiel about him loving me forever, we’re soulmates,,” Liz put ‘soulmates’ in air quotes, “blah, blah, woof, woof, and all that glitters ain’t gold, when confronted with the obvious ‘proof’ of supposed infidelity on his ‘true loves’’ part, what does he do? Nothing!”
So irritated she launched herself off the tombstone to pace in front of the grave, brushing her bottom off, as she ranted some more.
“Mr. Soulful Eyes just gets all hurt puppy doggish and leaves! I mean, you figure if I really meant all that he spouted off he’d have at least come in through the window and given Kyle grief until I could do the whole offended lover spiel. But no! It was like I had just been some passing fling, but one that he had to make sure I knew what I was missing for my ‘mistake’ by flaunting it with that blond bimbo from the planet emotionally constipated. I mean, where does he get off? He was the one who had been lip locking and tongue warring with the bitch while he and I were still going out and he has the nerve to say I was the cheating whore? Oohh…it still makes me mad!”
Liz flung out her arms in emphasis, bringing them back down to rest on her hips, one foot tapping on the ground in annoyance. She huffed a breath out, blowing one of her bangs out of her way, and glaring at nothing in particular.
“But that wasn’t the worst part. Oh, no! Dear beloved Max goes tell big sister Isabel, who wasn’t my biggest fan anyway, and she gets all offended for me breaking his friggin heart! And naturally, Michael is going to side with Max, Tess, and Isabel because….well…because he’s Michael and I’m not one of them, the Czechs, Inner Circle or whatever. So I get it from the Squared Four and you’re not there to help, and the one person I thought I could count on turns her back on me!
Granted I know she and Michael were dating an all…but, hello didn’t she hear about a little thing called conflict of interest? She should have at least been a neutral party but noooo…she was so far up wanting to be stuck up Michael’s ass that…arrgh!”
Liz flung herself to sprawl on the ground by the tombstone, looking for the entire world disgruntled and her face red from her passionate exertion. She pouted and turned to face Alex’s tombstone.
“She called me a whore, a traitorous, moral-less, selfish skank who thought only of her poor, feebleminded self and not about any one else. Oh, and how about how I tromped all over poor Maxie poo’s feelings like a cruel hearted bitch? That hurt the most, Alex. My one, remaining best friend in this frickin world and she bails on me. I know I had acted out of character, but that was only because Future Max said, and honestly? I didn’t think any of them could believe that of me. I mean, hello, ‘Perfect Lizzie Parker’ here, did they really think that little of me that I could do that for real?”
Liz curled up in a fetal ball, crying almost four years worth of pain and heartache that had started with Alex’s death and only culminating with the showdown that made her decide to leave Roswell for good.
As she cried, another breeze came up to surround her, and through her grief Liz tried to quiet her sobs down and listen to a familiar voice speaking:
It doesn't matter what people say
And it doesn't matter how long it takes
Believe in yourself and you'll fly high
And it only matters how true you are
Be true to yourself and follow your heart
~~~
So I won't give up
No I won't break down
Sooner than it seems life turns around
And I will be strong
Even if it all goes wrong
When I'm standing in the dark I'll still believe
That I won't give up
No I won't break down
Sooner than it seems life turns around
And I will be strong
Even when it all goes wrong
When I'm standing in the dark I'll still believe
That someone's watching over
Someone's watching over
Someone's watching over me
~~~
The softly spoken words lifted Liz’s spirits in a way that she desperately needed, and she took a minute composing her self.
She knew her makeup was a mess right now, but that was okay, she could fix it when she got back to the car and besides, Alex had seen her as a pimple faced, acne creamed gangly short fry so a few streaks of mascara wouldn’t scare him into an early grave.
“Thanks, Alex. You’ve always been there for me, no matter what, and many times I hadn’t deserved it. But you always carry me through, even when you can’t carry me any more.”
Liz smiled brokenly at the grave that held the remains of her best friend, singular, in the galaxy.
“This universe blows,” she laughed, quoting their favorite Boy Meets World episode. She caressed the grooves that formed the words Alexander Charles Whitman and gave another, wistful smile.
“I wish you were here with me right now, but that would be selfish. Or not. If you hadn’t have died, I would probably still be mooning over King Nothing and wasting away for his approval. I would have never left New Mexico, I wouldn’t have graduated early and got into college. I wouldn’t have met my new cousin. Finally, after almost twenty one years I have a cousin!”
“I wouldn’t have gone to the University of Florida, or learned to water ski, jet ski, scuba and free dive or hell, even truly swim. I wouldn’t have realized that Harvard just wasn’t what I wanted and that my dreams had adapted to fit who I had become, not the ideal me. I certainly wouldn’t have gotten my makeover or that fucking awesome car to go with it,” Liz grinned, eyes finally regaining the sparkle and confidence that had marked the young woman who had first entered the cemetery.
“I would have missed out on so much if only…who knows, maybe since your death kinda helped factor in with the whole break up with Max dealio, who turned out to be the big major NOT love of my life…maybe I finally will find him. He doesn’t have to be Mr. Right or Mr. Perfect…just Mr. What I Want and Need. Anyway,” Liz stood up, dusting herself off and, after making sure she was in the clear, using a little of her ‘Samantha Genie’ enhanced abilities to clean herself off. She also floated the used box to come to her hand and she ‘melted’ it, making it disappear.
“One good thing about being touched by the alien abyss is some really nifty maintenance aides,” she joked as she clapped her hands together to rid the last of the dirt, real or imaginary.
“I don’t know when the next time I’ll get to see you, when I’m able to get here physically, again. I know I’ll see you before I leave for Florida again, but after that I’m iffy. So…I guess this isn’t goodbye. Yet. It’s more of a…well, a see you later kind of deal. So…I’ll see you later. I love you Alexander Charles Whitman.”
She gave the cool granite face a light kiss and then she turned to walk away.
“Oh! Before I forget,” Liz looked over her shoulder and gave ‘Alex’ a wicked smile. “The Viper’s name is The Whit, sharpest piece of metal on tarmac. See ya!”
With a final wave, Liz left to seek her car out.
~~~
A cool breeze stirred the lone flowers in a vase attached to a tombstone reading Alexander Charles Whitman. Some loose grass and other debris swirled in the current and it seemed to coalesce into an almost human form to ‘sit’ on the tombstone.
Another form stepped out from around a mindwarp to stare out after the retreating brunette, something akin to longing in his dark, dark eyes. He came to stand by the tombstone that had Called to him since he came into Cracker Jack Mayberry, and he canted his head in Liz’s departing figure.
“So dat’s yo girl Lizzie,” he grunted out more as a statement than a question.
“Yup,” Alex nodded, his form all blue and Star Wars-esque glowy as he too watched his friend drive off. “So?”
“So what?” the more solid figure asked as he rubbed his chin stud absently, idly fingering the blunt spike thoughtfully even as his tongue came out to run its piercing along his lips, playing with the little skull at the top end of the piercing. Both were signs he was in serious thinking.
Alex rolled his ‘eyes’ and concentrated to make his hand solid enough to hit the other man.
“So…” Alex prompted, raising his eyebrows and waggling them expectantly.
“She not bad.”
“Not bad! Why if I hadn’t been head over heels with Isabel since the third grade I would have fallen for her! Look at her, she’s…”
“She’s flawed, broken, splintered. Perfect.”
Alex fell silent and watched his friend quietly before turning his gaze the way his Lizzie had gone.
“She named her car after me.”
The quiet words received only silence in reply.
“Watch over her for me. Please.”
“No prob, bro. I’m da Man after all.”
Zan smirked as he bumped fists with his fellow ‘ghost’ and then knelt to place a single strand of wild honeysuckle woven around the vase of flowers before turning follow the same path Liz walked.
~~~
Someone's watching over me
~~~