Ready, Set, Wait (AU, M/L,CHILD/ADULT) 4/30/09

[Kachie]

Title: Ready, Set, Wait
Author: Kachie
Rating: CHILD/ADULT
Pairings/Category: L/M (implied), AU (prequel)
Disclaimer: Don’t own anything pertaining to Roswell, just having some fun.
Summary: Main setting is the Crashdown, the hour or so before the infamous gun shot. Max POV, musing on the past eight years of his life. 3rd grade à the present.
A.N: I’m always looking for prequels and have found there are simply not enough of them. I guess no one likes stalkery Max as much as me. =P This is my first work of Roswell fiction, figured I’ve lurked enough. I’m hoping to turn this into a series, jumping back and forth a teensy weensy bit. Hope you enjoy!



September 18, 1999

"...and a cherry coke." She set the full glass gently down in front of him then reached into one of her alien themed pockets for a plastic straw. His dark eyes followed her hand as it deftly balanced the straw onto the top of the glass, bisecting the circle into two equal halves. He curled the edges of his lips upward but did not fully succeed at answering her smile until her back was turned. The Crashdown Cafe was unusually busy this afternoon so he wasn’t too surprised Liz Parker didn’t have the time to waste on his slow reactions. Once again the spark of hope fled from his eyes and he went back to half-heartedly listening to Michael drone on about the latest football game. While not adept at smiling, Max could handle hiding his grimace while viewing his closest friend chew and talk at the same time.

Besides being not of this Earth, they really didn't have much in common. Sure, when he and Isabel had rediscovered Michael, it made a deep impact in his life. It had been a welcome respite for Max, to finally know that someone else shared that feeling of not belonging, of being uncomfortable in your own skin. They expressed their feelings of alienation in different ways; Max with his shy sullen behavior and Michael, well, Michael lashed out. They were loners, pieces belonging to a totally different puzzle. But together they found a connection, a way to balance. Isabel, on the other hand, could glamour her way into the perfect girlish human mold. And Max never begrudged her that. There were times he was a bit jealous, but he loved her. He loved Isabel. He loved her like a sister and that was the problem. Being siblings meant that they cared a great deal for each other. But for as much as she tried, they were just far too different to be more than family. Isabel was outgoing. Max was not. Isabel was beautiful and adored by teachers and peers alike. Max had ears that stuck out a bit too far for his liking and huge soulful eyes that unfortunately seemed to scare others away rather than draw them in. Isabel had sleepovers, birthday parties, shopping trips. Max had solitary bike rides that slowed to a creep as he passed the Crashdown Cafe. Isabel had friends. Max had Isabel.

8 years ago

Max always felt like he was constantly being told lighten up, life’s not that bad, it’s okay to laugh. And he tried to, honestly tried. But how can you feel carefree when you’re always weighing someone else down?

He and Isabel were supposed to have started the third grade in September. They stood together on the curb, Isabel happily bouncing from one foot to the other. Max found himself staring down at the gravel of the street. He had taken a spill on that very spot the day before. The rough surface had torn into his jeans and the skin beyond. His hand had fairly itched to swipe quickly over the spot on his knee to make the pain disappear. Instead he clenched his fist and endured the sting of Bactine and the warm embrace of his mother. That night Isabel snuck into his room.

“We could just tell them, Max.“ Her hand grasped his. “They love us. We can trust them.“ Max had frowned. They didn’t know who they could trust. They weren’t normal. They weren’t right. And Isabel loved them so much. Why take the chance and let that go away? He could take it. He had Isabel. That’s all he needed. But Isabel, she wanted, no, needed more. As much as it pained him, she needed more than he was able to give.

A bright yellow school bus halted at the stop sign on the corner of their block. He felt more than heard Isabel’s gasp of excitement. He felt his limbs begin to tremble. The school bus began to slowly lurch down the street. Max’s eyes grew wide as the bus came closer. A flash of sunlight glinted briefly off the front silver bumper. Max blinked, gulped, turned, and ran back into the house. Isabel, reaching out to him once again, ran after him. Once inside, Max slowly slid down to the floor against the wall. His arms came up to rest on top of his knees. He brought his chin down on top of his forearms, ignoring the brief twinge when his right elbow rubbed against his bandaged knee. He glanced up at Isabel, his lower lip halfway clamped with his front teeth. She gave a deep sigh and proceeded to settle down next to him, her hand curling around his ankle. It was settled. She wouldn’t be going to school until Max was ready.

At the time, Max didn't feel any real remorse. The feeling was more akin to failure. Isabel was his only real connection to his real home. Deep inside, he had the distinct feeling that school, that place, would rip her away from him. He tried not to be selfish. He tried. Day after day he waited on that bus stop. Day after day Isabel would bounce would excitement, her grin almost attempting to hypnotize him into believing that this would be the day. But as soon as the yellow would flash around the corner, his feet would once again carry him back to the house. Eventually her patience wore out.

"I'm going to school today no matter what." She didn't glance in his direction that sunny October morning, her hands curled around the straps of her backpack. Max wordlessly clenched his own hands into fists, nervously eyeing the corner. She sighed and stepped in front of him, objecting his view. “And you’re coming with me.“ His dark eyes traced down to her outstretched palm. Make a choice, it said. Be a coward and run away. . or take a chance, come with me. Her brown eyes fairly glowed with anticipation. He would love to say it was bravery that had him grip her hand, but it was quite the opposite. The yellow flashed around the bend and her grip became like a vise. For the first time, the school bus came to a halt in front of them. Isabel finally turned but at the last second tilted her head to the side and gave him a bright smile. His brow furrowed in response and he fought to control his lower lip when it threatened to tremble as she yanked him up the school bus steps.

Whether or not they stared, Max wouldn’t have known. He had his eyes glued to the ribbed black rubber of the school bus floor. There was a wad of purple gum mashed into the grooves. Isabel nudged him gently into an empty seat near the middle of the bus. Sitting all the way back, his feet failed to touch the ground. He clenched his new workbook and notebook tightly against his side rather than tighten his grip on Isabel any further. The school bus hit a bump and knocked his new sneakers together. They had laces. Max had been almost endlessly fascinated by shoe laces. One neat knot made it seem secure, but one pull in the wrong direction and it all came apart again. Another bump. This time they didn’t knock together, only bounced a little. The right corner of his mouth drew up slightly. Today his laces had a double knot. He glanced down to his left, where his hand still gripped tightly to his sister’s. He breathed deeply through his nostrils, his chest rising up and out. He exhaled softly and closed his eyes. Today would be okay. The school bus came to a solid stop causing Max to slide an inch forward, a small hiss of air sounding as the driver applied the break. Max opened his eyes and looked out the window, at the seemingly huge brick building and the impossible amount of children milling about in front of it. His breathe became shaky. Today would be okay. His eyes tilted back towards his new sneakers. Today he had a double knot.

..tbc

[Kachie]

A.N: Glad you guys are liking it so far. And yeah, I dig details. =)

8 years ago continued. .

Isabel pulled Max steadily down the isle. He almost stumbled on the last step to the outside but used her handhold as a support to catch himself at the last moment. Isabel glanced back and grinned, attempting to look encouraging. He felt his eyes crinkle worriedly in response. She turned around, he looked slightly to her right, and the world nearly stopped.

The bright October sunshine found her light brown hair giving the illusion of a shining halo surrounding her smiling face. She was chanting something, her voice blending in with the four girls around her. His eyes were unexplainably stuck to her form. Max felt his heart rate increase. He had no hope of understanding this new emotion that had suddenly taken over his entire being. He was getting warm. It began in the center of his chest, and the more he watched, the more it spread. It was as if the heavens were giving him a sign. Look at her. See her. This is why you were meant to be here. She is the reason you’re here. Her face turned more completely in his direction and for the first time Max met her glowing smile head on. His breathe caught and he wordlessly released his hand from Isabel. Her smile effected him everywhere. Her light ignited a spark deep inside and he was glowing, everywhere. Colors were suddenly brighter, vibrant. Sounds became clearer. He had been walking the Earth in a fog and she was like a strong, clean breeze, clearing away the haze. Max couldn’t put a real name to the feelings coursing through his body. It wasn’t fear, it wasn’t anger. Was it love? It wasn’t the same warmth he felt in the arms of his parents. It wasn’t anything like the connection he felt to Isabel. The only thing Max was sure of was that he didn’t want it to go away.

“Max!” Isabel’s cry broke his trance and with a blink, the world moved back to it’s normal pace. The girl who had captured his fancy had turned and was now rushing towards the large brick building with the hordes of other students. He quickly lost her in the fray. The glow within him faded but his eyes were still wide open. He was still looking about with amazement and a newfound awareness. “Max!” He swung his gaze to Isabel. She smiled and held out her hand again. “Come on! We’re in the same class! I hope our teacher is nice!” She continued to babble about her dreams of the day as she pulled him into the building.

“Hope. . “ he muttered softly. The previous warmth in his chest reasserted itself briefly with a gentle throb. Maybe that’s what he felt when he saw that girl. Something that was telling him that he had a chance after all. A chance to come out of hiding. A chance to become his own person. That maybe, just maybe, there was a spot in this new and now fairly exciting place where he would belong. The corners of his mouth tilted upward and for the first time, Max Evans gave the world around him a real smile. Hope.

September 18, 1999 (one hour left)

“Hey, Maxwell.”

“Huh?” He shook his head slightly and focused his gaze on Michael. Quick, what was his saying? “Um, yeah, man. I can’t believe they lost either. Maybe better luck next time, right?” He smirked slightly then quickly leaned forward and began shoveling space fries. He frowned at the first mouthful and reached for the Tabasco sauce.

“Yeah, Max.” Michael rolled his eyes. “Number one: they won.” He threw out two long fingers. “Number two: I told you that about five minutes ago.” His ring finger popped up and the hand moved closer to Max’s face. His dark eyes rolled skyward, knowing what was coming. “And then there’s number three.” Michael’s hand came down on the table to grasp a fork which he then proceeded to stab viciously into his side order of coleslaw.

“Number three?” Max shrugged his broad shoulders with an air of innocence. “I just spaced out.” Michael slammed the fork down again and gave Max a good glare.

“Sure, Maxwell. No number three.” His eyes narrowed and he hunched forward in the booth. “Of course there’s no three. Of course the only reason you insist we eat here almost every day of the freaking week is because the food is so freaking delicious.”

“What can I say?” Max took a long gulp from his soda. “Nothing beats Space Fries, and um,” he glanced at the Specials board by the counter, “Men in Blackberry Pie.”

“Give me a break, Max.” He picked up his burger with his right hand and gestured towards Max with it, a small piece of lettuce coming loose in the process. “You are obsessed with Liz Parker and the sooner you admit it, the sooner you can get over it and we can stop coming to this god awful establishment.” The burger was now giving it’s gesture to the mural to their left. “I mean, look at it? You telling me that along with the food, you also can’t live without the charming décor?”

“Michael, enough.” Max sighed and watched Michael drop his still uneaten burger on the plate.

“Yeah, Max.” His glare strengthened. “Enough. Enough dragging me to this place-”

“No one’s forcing you to be here.”

“And let you come here alone?” He gave a sharp laugh. “You’d never leave, and who knows how long it would take before you went and did something stupid.” Max’s head bowed slightly and Michael took a deep breath. “Look, I know you have this, I dunno, need for Liz. . But it has to stop.” He tilted his head forward in emphasis. “She’s not one of us. She’s different.”

“I know,” Max uttered softly.

“You need to let it go, Maxwell.” His voice softened in something akin to pity. “You know nothing can ever come of it and you’re just torturing yourself by following her around all the time.”

“I know,” he sat up and twirled the straw in the cola. The ice cubes clinked together softly.

“You need to remember who and what you are.”

“We don’t know what we are!”

“Yeah, well, you know what we’re not. And you and Liz,” Michael sat back and stretched his arms across the back of the booth. “ain’t gonna happen. You have to forget about her.”

“I know,” Max uttered harshly and leaned back as well, crossing his arms across his chest, meeting Michael with a glare of his own. The stare down lasted about thirty seconds and then Max broke off, his eyes moving around the Crashdown, finally uncontrollably settling on her smiling face. Liz and her best friend, Maria, were at the counter fixing up a couple of shakes. Her hands halted their actions and her eyebrows popped up in response to something Maria said. A moment later, Liz’s sparkling laughter filled the room. Max sighed once more and slumped his shoulders. “I know,” he muttered, forcing his gaze back to his unfinished meal. But what if I can’t. .

Tbc. .

[Kachie]

A.N: A fair warning, I am my own pre-reader. So if you see any glaring typos or other such inaccuracies, please feel free to let me know. =)


7 years ago, the night before first day of fourth grade.

His mirror image wasn’t very convincing.

For Max, the first year at school had gone by both at the speed at light and at a snail’s pace. The first day itself seemed nearly over before it had yet to begin. Unfortunately, Max found himself in a classroom not only empty of his dream girl, but missing his sister as well. On the upside, he had landed the only male teacher in the school, Mr. Lolskowski, Mr. L to his students. He was almost grateful for the lack of attention he received from Mr. L in the classroom. It seemed that even though Max was certain that his teacher was not like Max himself, he still understood where Max was coming from.

As the weeks went by, Max observed the behavior of the other teachers towards their students. The female teachers were warm, affectionate even, towards their students. Mr. L was different. With Mr. L, Max felt safe. Mr. L didn’t push, Mr. L didn’t seem to care that Max was quiet and smiles were hard to come by. He gave Max praise through the red ink marks he left on graded papers. Great job, he said. You seem to really enjoy this subject, if you ever want to know more, let me know! he offered. Every worksheet, no matter how insignificant, carried such a remark. And with them, the door was always left open, a hand was always held out, waiting. And although never once during that year did Max openly acknowledge these invitations, he was still secretly thankful that they existed. But while the time spent learning in the classroom was fairly stimulating, if not enjoyable, what Max seemed to live for, was recess. For at recess he had a spot, and a purpose: to watch.


Roswell Elementary had a pretty large area for their many students so Max’s swing usually hung blissfully empty at the start of the period. His usually scuffling stride turned long and sure of itself when he headed towards the back right corner of the playground. The swing set sat a bit higher than the other various pieces of equipment due to the slight rise in the landscape. He had tried other places first. The top of the jungle gym had it’s merits, but one day atop it offered too many distractions in the form of other kids attempting to knock him off of the structure. The top of the slide offered enough room for others to move past, but the slide seemed to be at the epicenter of schoolyard activity and he lost track of her much too easily for his liking. No, the swing was perfect. It was out of the way and offered him a perfect, unobstructed view of her.


“Are you sure you don’t want to play with us?” The question used to come every day, but Isabel’s patience was not everlasting,. The question now came at the beginning of every week. Like clockwork, the inquiry signaled a brief change in Max’s demeanor. Even the worst actor can eventually get a routine down.

“I like the swings,” he would reply. Breaking what seemed to be a trance, his gaze would move downward. A now scuffed sneaker would dig it’s front into the packed dirt to push slightly. The swing would sway. His head would come up, his serious gaze betraying the small smile gracing his features. The stare down would last approximately thirty seconds and then Isabel’s small frame would deflate.

“If you’re sure. . . “ her lips would tighten. There was never any point to finishing the sentence. They both knew that this was his spot and he wouldn’t be moving from it until the whistle was blown. Her brow would furrow and that would be his cue to end the scene.

“I’ll see you on the bus, okay Iz?” He felt bad for consistently slamming the door shut in her face, but he just couldn’t help it. These thirty minutes were the only portion of the day that he truly felt content. Sure, he still didn’t know her name. Sure, she didn’t seem to know he existed. But being able to watch her uninterrupted, he could almost pretend that he was a part of it. That he was the one chasing her around the field. That he was the one who would turn her over exaggerate scream into an infectious giggle.

Paradise never lasted, and before long, the loud blow of the whistle would none too gently yank him back into reality. Day after day, as Max would position himself on the line to head back inside, he would tell himself that tomorrow would be the day. Tomorrow he would get off his swing and join her game. She would tuck a strand of hair behind her ear and smile. She would accept him without question.

He didn’t find out her name until the last day of school.


Roswell’s heat was merciless during the last few days of third grade. Knowing the students would be too distracted by not only the weather, but the upcoming vacation as well, teachers organized the time they had left evenly between games, free time, and cleaning. Max enjoyed the last the most. He thankfully pulled the job of ‘errand boy.’ Whether it was simply going out to empty the trash can into the oversize bin at the end of the hall, or dropping off crayons in the art room, it gave him the perfect excuse to leave the stifling confines of the classroom. He could leave the noise and live out his desperate wish that somehow she would appear in his hallway during one of these trips. He almost couldn’t believe it when it actually came true.

His last errand came in the form of a small cardboard box full of colored pencils. The task was simple. Walk down the hall, turn right, go to Mrs. Wright’s room - second door on the left side. Halfway down the first hall, Max shifted the box to his left hand and paused to take a quick sip from the water fountain. When he continued on his way, his left hand continued to grasp the box on one side as the pencils clanged woodenly against each other. His right went comfortably into his shorts' pocket. He turned the corner and looked up just as the bathroom door on the right side of the hallway opened.

She was wearing a bright yellow sundress speckled with the heads of sunflowers. Matching hair clips pinned the normally unruly stands that framed her face, to the side of her head instead. Max only had a short second to take in these details before he fumbled his stride and tripped over nothing but his own feet. He left out a soft grunt when he hit the floor. The cardboard box flew from his hand and landed on it’s side, the pencils spilling out into a colorful rainbow. He heard a small gasp and suddenly white sandaled feet stood in front of his eyes. Her nails had the remnants of purple polish. The second toe on each foot stuck out a bit longer than the rest.

“Are you ok?” Max slowly pushed himself to his knees, his nod going by unnoticed. She was already gathering up the pencils. He inched forward to grab the few pencils that had strayed from the group. Grasping them tightly, he turned to see her mirroring his position on the floor, the box held out in front of her. She smiled as he dropped his loot into the cache. His heartbeat increased and the rational portion of his brain wondered if it was possible for a heart to literally leap out of one's chest.

Her head tilted to the side and half of her dark hair spilled over her right shoulder. “It’s ok. I fall all the time.” She set the box down in front of him. “See?” A bandaged elbow suddenly blocked his view of her. The band aid was light blue and covered with spaceships. “Fell off my bike yesterday.” She laughed. “I’m still not very good without my training wheels.” The elbow disappeared and Max was unaware of the nod he gave her in return.

“Liz! Come on! It’s your turn!” The high pitched voice came from a blond girl sticking her head outside of a classroom down the hall.

“I’m coming!” The head disappeared, and she turned back towards him. “Gotta go!” They both rose, the cardboard box still resting on the floor in front of him. Her smile turned slightly uncertain at his constant almost dumbfounded expression. “Um, well, see ya. . . “ He said nothing in response as she turned from him. He didn’t move even one limb when she paused in front of her classroom and once more shifted to face him. “Have a nice summer, Max!” she called and then with a final smile, headed into her classroom.

He knew it was somewhat pathetic, but finally knowing her name and the even greater news that she knew his own, were enough to carry him pleasantly through the summer. He took to bike riding like a pro and spent long summer afternoons biking to and from the perimeter set by his father. When not attached to his noble light green steed, he and Isabel received swimming instruction from their mother. She was a patient teacher and soon both children were playing like dolphins in the small above ground pool the family had erected at the start of the summer. Max found himself grinning more and more often. Life was good. He was stating to find activities he really enjoyed. He no longer found tears coming to his eyes each night as he laid himself down to sleep. His mother’s gift house now sat safely on the top of his dresser rather than on his night table. Isabel’s worries for him seemed to come out less and less. Life was good and he was flying high since that last day of school. She was Liz. And Liz knew his name.


He managed to keep it going until the night before school was to being again. His mother assumed his fidgeting at dinner was normal new school year jitters. He was relieved Isabel was too encased by her own excitement to really notice. Max now stood in front of the full length mirror attached to the front of his closet door, clad in jeans and a blue t-shirt. After a quick glance at his closed door, his hand waved over the front of his chest, and the shirt’s color changed to a deep green. He liked green.

Tomorrow was the day. Tomorrow he would get to see her. Tomorrow he would get to see Liz again. He vaguely wondered if he would get to see her once he stepped of the bus, just like the first time. If he did, this time he would go up to her. He would give her a huge smile and ask her how her summer was. Then he’d ask her whose class she had. Maybe they would be in the same class! Wouldn’t that be great! They’d become best friends and he would tell her all of his secrets. They would ride their bikes together and if she fell, she wouldn’t need any band aids and life, life would be perfect. Life would be perfect.

He repeated this mantra to himself as he shucked his outfit and carefully folded and set it on top of his desk for tomorrow morning. Once ready to turn in, he took one more glance at the mirror. He attempted a practice run at the smile he would give to Liz. The smile that would convince her to trust him and be his friend forever. His heart sank and his confidence was already beginning to wane.

His mirror image wasn’t very convincing.

tbc. . .

[Kachie]

A.N: A quick update. Not sure if the end makes enough sense. Trying to get into Max’s shoes and describe what he might be feeling was a bit confusing.

September 18, 1999 (50 minutes left)

“Oh Lizzeo, Lizzeo! Wherefore art the milkshake I ordered?” The much too overdramatic call echoed from the lips of one, Alex Whitman, as he breezed through the entrance of the café. The tall boy gave a confident smirk in response to the giggles coming from the two small children sitting in the corner booth. His long legs quickly ate up the distance between the door and the counter. Both Liz and Maria gave each other wry smiles as their longtime friend sidled up to a stool. “Ladies. . “ he greeted with an exaggerated leer.

“Man, what a dork.” Max turned his gaze from the trio of friends back to his supposed best friend.

“I don’t know.” He took a small sip from his cherry cola and reached for the Tabasco once more. “I think Alex is,” he shook a small dash of the spicy sauce into his cup, “pretty cool.” His eyes slanted quickly towards the group. Liz now had a hand clamped over her mouth, attempting to stifle her laughter at whatever story Alex was telling. All Max was able to tell from his distance was that the tale involved many large and comical arm gestures. His gaze moved back to Michael as he stirred his hotter and ultimately more delicious cola. “I mean, girls seem to think he’s funny.”

“Yeah, because just being funny is going to get him real far with any girl.” Michael rolled his eyes as he balled up a used napkin. Without warning, Maria’s hearty laugh filled the air and Michael’s shoulders visibly tensed.

“And I suppose being rude, obnoxious, and,” Isabel Evans looked with disdain at the dab of ketchup gracing the corner of Michael’s mouth, “having next to no table manners is what all women really want.”

Michael gazed back up at her confidently. “Yep.”

“Whatever.” She shrugged, effectively dismissing him and turned towards her brother, one hand on her hip.

“You just get here? Staying for lunch?” Max scooted over to the right of the booth.

“I think I’ll pass,” she eyed the mural across from her with distaste, “this place always manages to make me lose my appetite.” She straightened and tossed a lock of long blond hair over her shoulder. “Look, I’m on my way to the movies, but Mom wanted me to let you know that you’re on your own for dinner. Her and Dad are going out.” A faint smile began to grow over Max’s face. “But,” she leaned across the table to meet his eyes, “she said no Crashdown.” The smile faded. “She’s right, Max. One helping of this grease filled crap is enough for one day.” She straightened and tossed a ten dollar bill on the table. “Just order pizza or something.” Her gaze flicked to the ticking clock on the wall and narrowed briefly on the bright green alien head positioned at the tip of the pendulum. “I have to go. See you later tonight, Max” She gave him a quick peck, but rolled her eyes at Michael when he offered his cheek. “Don’t let him stay here too long, ok?” Michael nodded and in the blink of an eye, Roswell’s queen bee had left the building.

“Remember Alex, movies tonight!”

“Don‘t you worry your pretty little antennaed head, Parker.” Alex called back as he walked backwards towards the exit. “I’ll be here with bells on!” And with one final salute to the still grinning kids in the corner booth, he pushed through the doors.


It could be quite the interesting study in compare and contrast. Humans vs. Aliens. Two girls and one boy vs. two boys and one girl. Friendly and outspoken vs. guarded outsiders. To the casual observer, the closeness of the members of each group was obvious, but oh so different. Liz, Maria, and Alex all had a warmth for each other. The affectionate looks and actions spoke volumes of their caring. The mere sight of the three together never failed to strike Max with a strong bolt of longing.

Sometimes he felt like he, Michael, and Isabel were more like a pack than like close friends. Sure, they would have their lighthearted conversations, jokes even, but the comfort never reached the level Max would hope for. For no matter how hard they tried, well he and Isabel anyway, there was always that underlying panic. All too often he would find himself getting lost in attempting to distinguish the difference between who he really was and the normal human being he was trying to be. So much of what made them what they were was a mystery. Max felt torn. Every day he acts the part of the normal human being. Every day he feels like a liar. He resented their secret but not for what it gave. Max couldn’t lie to himself. Having powers was cool. It was hiding them that slowly but surely seemed to eat at whoever he truly wanted to be. Trying to lead a normal life was leading to a much more abnormal existence. Can’t try out for sports, could get injured, injury leads to hospital, hospital leads to blood tests. Have to keep human friends at a distance because friendship needs trust and how can you claim to trust and be trusted when keeping such a secret. Can’t, never fall in love. And all of this led to more lies given to even the ones he was supposed to be able to be honest with. What’s the point in discussing hopes and dreams with friends when you know the response will always be the same. It’ll never work. You know we can’t do that. What if something happens and they find out. He knew that to some extent Isabel understood. After all, she had always wanted to tell their mother. But other than that, she seemed fairly content. She didn’t want to address the what-ifs, Isabel would rather live what she could. She enjoyed her popularity at school, played her part well. She made herself belong without becoming a danger for them. She wanted to come off as human as possible. And therein lied the difference between them. Max didn’t want to be human. Max didn’t want to be alien. Max wanted to be Max. And no matter who he was with, he was never just Max.

Thinking of Liz, Maria, and Alex, he was always filled with longing. Deep down, call it gut instinct, something told him that if they knew his secret, they would still accept him. That they would just see all the out-of-this world stuff as just another facet of his personality. He would be able to share his hopes and dreams without fear of, well, without fear. Becoming close to them, part of their circle, to let them into his world had always been such a strong desire. So strong in fact that just before the complete knowledge of what might happen if his origins were discovered, he almost let it happen.


TBC. .

[Kachie]

Have they aged since the last chapter because they were little kids but it seems like they're teens now (or at least pre-teens). Anyway, I hope you come back soon. I really like how you're building their characters.

This last part is set during the day of the shooting. (50 minutes beforehand)I wanted to give a peek of present day Alex (hopefully contrasting a bit with present day Izzie) to segue into a section introducing lil' Alex. So yes, they're teens. =) I'm pretty much planning on showing glimpses of Max growing up to the day where he has to make the split second decision to heal Liz. Every now and then I'm jumping back to 1999. Thanks for reading!

[Kachie]

AN: Thanks for the reviews! Sorry it took so long to update, I kind of got locked into my other fic and then hit some writers blockage. Not sure if I like how this part turned out, but ::shrug::

March 30, 1994, post spring break, 4th grade

“Knock, knock.”

Liz was playing kickball today and currently throwing a mild fit over the pitch that had just come towards her. Her long dark her began to come slightly loose from the high pony-tail she wore as she stamped her foot viciously while demanding a redo from the boy pitching. Normally one would not see such a display from the young girl, but the game was tied and, Max gave an almost imperceptible nod, the pitch was a bit too bouncy to count as a strike.

“Erm. . . Knock, knock?”

Max relaxed his grip on the chain lines of the swing as, the argument easily won, Liz gave a good kick towards the much smoother coasting ball, landing herself a double. His grip quickly tightened again when she turned around briefly from her place on second base to throw a grin his way. His heart fairly skipped a beat, but as much as he treasured such a smile being aimed towards himself, Max also felt a bit worried. Maybe he wasn’t being as incognito as he thought. Maybe if he found another spot on the playground. . ? The clank of the chains of the seat next to him finally startled him away from his thoughts.

“Not a fan of knock-knock jokes, huh?” The boy that had captured the usually vacant swing had shortly cropped dark hair and a quirky gaped toothed grin. “It wasn’t really a good one anyway. . . But this one is awesome!” The boy dug one of his Nikes into the packed dirt, tilted the swing towards Max. “So there are these two muffins in an oven,” his grin widened in anticipation, “and the one muffin looks to the other muffin and goes ‘gee, it’s hot in here,’ and the other muffin looks back and goes,” the Nike came loose and the boy swung back to facing forward, “”Oh my god, a talking muffin!” The boy chuckled gleefully not noticing Max’s wide eyed silence for a full ten seconds. “Man, that’s a good one but I can see that’s not your taste. Don’t worry, I got loads!” Max gulped and felt uncomfortably intrigued.

“Ok, ok. . So,” the grin was back, “what do you call a chicken that eats cement?”

Max looked down in confusion. A chicken that eats cement? Why would a chicken eat cement? Wouldn’t that be bad for the chicken? What does a chicken eat anyway. .

“A bricklayer!”

Max gave him a side glance, “That doesn’t make sense.”

“It’s a joke, not supposed to make sense,” the boy stated matter-of-factly.

“So it was supposed to be funny?”

“Apparently not,” he laughed again, “guess I need some new material. But you definitely have the look of the guy who could play a good straight man.” A corner of Max’s mouth curled up hesitantly in return. “Name’s Alex, Alex Whitman,” Alex held out a hand towards him.

“Max Evans.“ Max was surprised when after he shook it, his own hand was knocked back and forth a few times before being forced into an awkward fist bump. Once his hand was released, Max turned back towards the kickball game. Liz’s team was now playing defense. He couldn’t help but smile watching her stand by her base, impatiently bouncing from side to side as the other team tried to remember who was up the last inning.

“Ah, so that’s why you came up here.” His attention diverted once more, Max turned towards the new boy. “Liz Parker, right?” Max nodded. “That’s cool. She and that blond girl are in my class. They both seemed pretty nice for, you know,” Alex gave a sour look, “girls.” Max tried to ignore the sharp pang on his insides. Once again he had landed a class not only absent of his sister, but also of the dark haired girl he desired for a best friend. “Tell you the truth though, girls aren’t that bad. My neighbor in my old town, Becky, she was one of my best friends. She said we‘d keep in touch, but you know how that can be,“ Max didn’t, but nodded again anyway, “right?”

As Alex proceeded to talk through the rest of recess about his previous living conditions it was obvious to even someone like Max that the kid was lonely. And for once, it was kind of nice to have someone just talk to him instead of at him. Alex didn’t seem to mind that Max didn’t contribute much to the conversation, didn’t seem to mind at all that he was quiet, not like some of the other kids in his class. He remembered at the beginning of the school year, going home and having to listen to Isabel attempt to berate him into acting more “normal“ so the other students would stop referring to him as a freak. Social status was beginning to mean something to Isabel’s young mind, and as much as she loved her brother, she wasn’t about to let him be her downfall in the pecking order. But Alex was different, not very much at all like the other boys Max was supposed to be making friends with.

Without warning the shrill sound of the principal’s whistle pierced the air. Both boys hopped off their respective swings and slowly made their way towards the school’s rear entrance. Turning to join his class’ line, Max felt a light jab on his shoulder. “Thanks for letting me hang on your turf, Evans! Catch ya later.”

Going home that day, Max felt lighter than he’d felt in a while. If he wasn’t mistaken, he had just made a friend. His first. Years later, Max would feel somewhat indebted to Alex Whitman for helping him to bring out his personality with someone other than his family. Unfortunately, the good feeling faded when he went to bed that night, and altogether disappeared that morning. After all, he was a freak and Max was sure that the other class had let Alex in on that little tidbit before yesterday’s end. But to his shock and surprise, Alex once again joined him on the swings the next day, and the day after that, all the way through the end of the school year. Within a few weeks, Alex finally gained a genuine laugh out of Max. Months went by and Max eventually got comfortable enough to make a few cracks of his own. Recess was no longer spent only gazing at Liz Parker, an activity he recently learned could be referred to as a little creepy, but instead was spent observing all the students at Roswell Elementary. Their favorite game turned out to be “Would you like fries with that?” Alex came up with the title and almost every day they would pick out a new student and attempt to map out what the future had in store for them. By silent agreement, Liz was never a specimen. Early on, Alex invited Max to get together outside of school, but although Max was becoming a more secure individual, he was still too scared and intimidated by the idea of their friendship leaving the safety of the swings.

Summer pasted without too much of a fuss. Max, again, spent most of it either in the water or on his bike, his boundaries set out a little further, not enough to the Crashdown Café though. That wouldn’t happen for another two summers.

Fifth grade began and although Max was not in Ms. Elmer’s class with Alex and Liz, he was finally sharing a classroom with Isabel. Not that she spoke to him much during school, but it was nice to know she was there. The first few weeks found Max and Alex again at their swings, but instead of their observing games, Alex subjected Max to stories about Liz and Maria. Turns out they were both really nice girls who had befriended Alex in swim lessons over the summer. To say Max was jealous of Alex’s newfound friendship of Liz would be the understatement of the year. But he hid it well.

Eventually the day came when Alex decided he was done with the swings. He came up to Max one last time and extended the invitation to join him in a friendly game of tag (“I promise they won’t bite!”) with Liz, Maria, and a few other classmates. Max had looked out towards the group on the field, already starting the game, and oddly enough, felt ready. With Alex by his side, he knew he would be able to go down to that field and become part of the world rather than continue to quietly observe it. He slipped off the swing, about to accept, when he caught sight of the new student by the jungle gym. The new student who was staring at him. The new student who had turned out to be Michael.

Max frequently thought back to the day he found Michael again. Sure it was wonderful to find basically his brother, but at the same time he regretted how it had happened. He had seen Michael, had known him, and without sparing a glance at Alex, just walked away. The next day, after a few intense talks with Michael and Isabel about who they were and what they had to worry about, Max stayed away from the swings. He found a new place under a large to tree to observe, a sullen Michael became a constant presence at his side. That next day he watched Alex walk up to the swings where he would then sit swaying by himself for the whole period. And Max just watched. He watched the next day when Alex ignored the swings, instead walking straight towards Liz and Maria. He watched his only human friendship slowly but surely disintegrate, only able to content himself with the idea that it would be safer. . Not just safer for him and his family, but for Alex as well.