Tricks and Treats - AU M/L TEEN [COMPLETED]
Posted: Mon Feb 24, 2003 4:43 pm
Title: Tricks and Treats
Author: SansuCry
Email: sansucry@earthlink.net
Rating: TEEN, some parts MATURE for violence and language
Category: AU, M/L.
Disclaimer: I have no affiliation with Roswell or any one associated with it.
Summary: My own little Roswell world. No Isabelle. No Tess. No shooting. It’s Halloween time, and Liz Parker is going to learn all about monsters and aliens and soulmates. My apologies to all the Kyle lovers out there…he just makes a great villain.
A/N: I know, I know. Another story. Well, I’m hoping this will be just a few short parts, but you know how that goes….I’ve got a million ideas for fics written down, some complete with outlines, but somehow I end up writing the ones that just pop into my head. Like this one.
Well, this part is the Epilogue, so if you haven't read the story go here first before continuing:
Tricks and Treats Archive
Epilogue Part 1
October 30, 2000
“Way to go, Valenti!” Tommy Sanders called out across the quad.
“Good one, man. Good one,” Paulie Smith added with a thumbs up sign.
Kyle raised his right arm to his friends in a victory wave as he pulled Liz into his side. “Thank you. Thank you very much,” he returned in a very bad Elvis impersonation.
“Kyle, what’s going on?” Liz asked with a concerned frown. Kyle was one of the most popular juniors at West Roswell, but even this kind of attention was unusual to say the least.
“Nothing, babe,” he said as he gave her a peck on the cheek. “Just celebrating this past fine and glorious weekend.”
“Oh,” she said as they walked toward the room where her first class was held. She knew that the football team had won the game Friday night by a landslide. Of course she had been there. Her boyfriend was co-captain of the team after all, but she couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling that Kyle’s jovial attitude and growing popularity had nothing to do with the team’s victory. Before she had a chance to question him further, the bell rang and they had to part ways.
Even for a Monday morning, English class buzzed with an excessive amount of chatter, and as Liz strained to pick up on some of the latest scuttlebutt she swore she heard a few people quietly muttering the name Max Evans. Strangely enough, all eyes involved in the conversation seemed to immediately shift to her after each incantation.
“C’mon, guys and girls, settle down. I know you’re all wanting to gossip about your oh so busy weekend, but the next hour is my time,” Mrs. Matthews directed. “Now does anyone remember where we left off in Romeo and Juliet?”
Liz’s mind quickly drifted away from anything related to Mrs. Matthews or William Shakespeare. Max Evans. Even now, just hearing his name made her heart race as much as it had the first time she had seen him. He was the new kid when they had begun the third grade, living alone with his widowed father in a nondescript part of town. She had noticed him the minute he had set foot on the playground, his feathered bangs draped across his forehead as his face studied the asphalt near his shoe. To this day she still remembered the absolute peacefulness and sense of completion that had flowed through her the first time that his warm, amber eyes stared at her, glimpsing into her very soul as he allowed her to experience the beauty and gentleness of his.
She had felt that same comforting sensation many times a day, every day, during the next four years, yet she and Max hadn’t spoken more than a handful of words to each other over that same time frame. It wasn’t as if she hadn’t tried to talk to him, but every time she did he shied away from her, just as he did with everyone else in the school. Then as soon as she would walk away he would gaze at her with such a sense of longing that his eyes would be practically begging her to come back to him. With each reluctant rejection she had begun to wonder whether his self-imposed isolation was actually something that was beyond his control, but then she would scoff at herself for such foolishness. He was just a timid loner, plain and simple.
Of course his shyness was misinterpreted as conceit by some of their classmates and, as they changed from children into ‘young adults,’ the taunting and snide remarks become a daily occurrence. The spitefulness toward the boy who preferred to sit by himself and read grew a little worse each day until one morning half of the mesmerizing amber gaze that she had begun to revel in wasn’t visible past his swollen blackened eyelid. Someone had beaten him up. Through the Roswell Junior High rumor mill, and the Maria grapevine in particular, Liz found out that Kenny Sanders had attacked Max on the walk home from school the previous afternoon. Peculiarly enough, Maria had commented, Max hadn’t lifted a finger to fight back.
Up until that point Liz had done the best she could to defend Max to her classmates without getting too involved, taking the teasing in stride while championing his cause even as he continued to remain stoically silent. However, this full out assault on such a quiet, gentle soul was the last straw for her. If he wasn’t going to put an end to their abuse, she would do it for him. That afternoon during P.E. class, it was a matter of pure luck that Kenny had been chosen as the opposing team’s catcher for the class’s baseball game. Unfortunately for him luck had nothing to do with the fact that Liz’s hands couldn’t keep a tight enough grasp on the wooden bat when it came time for her to hit the ball. Kenny’s nose had been broken, and as all the other kids rushed to get a better view of the blood pouring from the startled boy’s face, two sets of eyes shared the knowledge that the accident had been anything but accidental.
The next morning Liz had found a single white rose in her locker, and as she rushed to her classroom to thank Max she had been surprised to see that he was not sitting at his desk. He didn’t return the next day either, and after a week of absences Liz realized that Max had permanently left the public school system.
Her reminiscing was interrupted by a sharp jab in her side. She started to give the perpetrator a piece of her mind when she realized it was Maria. Her best friend pointed to the book in front of her and mouthed the command, “Pay attention.”
Liz looked around at the other occupants of the classroom. This scenario seemed so familiar, almost as if she were experiencing déjà vu, yet something was…different. Now if she could only figure out what…
“I’d ask what’s up with you, chica,” Maria commented after class ended, “but I’m sure I already know it has to do with Max Evans.”
“People keep whispering his name and staring at me,” Liz explained. “I’ve got a strange feeling that something really bad is going on.”
“If it would make you feel better I’ll take you to go see him after school,” Maria offered.
“Just like that?” she questioned.
“Yeah, why not?” Maria asked. “I think it’s time he had a visitor, don’t you?”
She couldn’t deny how appealing the thought of seeing Max Evans again after all these years was. Would he remember who she was? Would he still stare at her as if he were seeing into her soul? Deciding she had nothing to lose she gave Maria an amicable smile and said, “Sure, why not.”
Later that day they met by the Jetta and drove out of the parking lot in silence, Maria’s unusual solemness more than a little unnerving. Did her friend know why everyone at school had been talking about her and Max? She wanted to ask, but the words wouldn’t come out of her mouth.
“Why are we here?” she asked in confusion when the car finally came to a stop.
“I brought you to see Max,” Maria explained.
“Why would Max be here? This isn’t his house,” she apprehensively explained. “He lives on Murray Road with his dad.”
Maria let out a sigh and said apologetically, “I’m sorry, Liz. I shouldn’t have brought you out here. I thought you were ready to deal with this, but I can see now that I was wrong.”
“Deal with what?” she asked, the panic rising in her throat. “Maria, tell me what is going on.”
Her friend diverted her gaze out the window, a sniffle and quick wipe of her face revealing her emotional state. “Liz…” she began, then suddenly sat straight up in the seat. Craning her neck to get a better view of a particular spot in the distance, she said with a low moan, “Oh, no. I can’t believe it. How could Kyle do something like this.” Before Liz could ask her friend for an explanation, the blonde was out of the car and dashing across the grass. Liz had no other choice but to follow.
She nearly tripped over a sobbing, crestfallen Maria when she breached the next hill, a startled gasp escaping her mouth before she froze at the sight in front of her.
“I’m sorry, Liz. I didn’t think the rumor was true or I wouldn’t have ever brought you out here,” Maria choked out.
Liz refused to understand why she should be upset about a kicked over gravestone defaced with spraypainted phrases like “FREAKS R US” and a few misspelled “PSYCHO”s until she saw the impossible.
Maxwell Z. Evans
March 15, 1984-October 31, 1996
“No,” she insisted with a shake of her head. “NO! Something is wrong. Max isn’t dead. I know he isn’t.”
“Liz…”
“He can’t be dead,” she vowed as she dropped to the ground alongside her friend, her tears preventing her from taking another look at the toppled granite marker. “This is all wrong. I’ve seen the future, and this is not how it’s supposed to be. Max is my soulmate. We’re going to get married in Las Vegas. When we make love we’ll be nervous because it will be the first time for both of us. Our babies will be born on Halloween. And we’ll live happily ever after. He’s not dead. He’s not.”
She felt a pair of comforting arms wrap around her as Maria’s voice pleaded, “Liz, please don’t do this to yourself. Max’s death wasn’t your fault, and you have to let this go.”
“Something’s not right, ‘ria,” she protested. “Max is alive. I can feel him.”
“C’mon, chica,” Maria quietly requested. “Let me take you home.”
“No,” she countered. “Take me to Max’s house. I need to talk to his dad. He’ll know the truth.”
Maria’s grasp stiffened around her, “Liz, you’re delirious. You don’t know what you’re saying.”
She wrenched herself away from Maria and stumbled to her feet. “If you won’t take me there, then I’ll walk.”
Maria threw her hands out in frustration, “Liz, you know Max’s dad doesn’t live in that house anymore.”
“No,” Liz spat out, “I don’t know anything, because where I come from Max Evans is alive and well and living with his dad on Murray Road.”
“That may be so in the land of denial you’ve created for yourself,” Maria despondently remarked, “but this is the real world, and in this world Max Evans was beaten up in the seventh grade by Kenny Sanders. You broke Kenny’s nose in retaliation, and the next day Max didn’t show up for school. When he didn’t come back at all the school called the police to check out his house. They found his dad sitting in the middle of the kitchen floor, covered in blood and holding Max’s dead body, rambling on about giving his son a peaceful death before ‘they’ could capture and torture him. Mr. Evans doesn’t live there anymore because he’s in prison. It wasn’t your fault, Liz. Mr. Evans was crazy. No one could have predicted that he would do what he did.”
Liz’s legs suddenly couldn’t hold her up as she recognized that Maria was telling the truth, and before the inviting blackness completely surrounded her she was hit with the horrible reality.
Max Evans had been murdered by his father four years earlier.
And it was all her fault.
Well, here I am at the end of my first completed fic. I know most of you had faith that I would provide a happy ending, so I guess now you have to ask yourselves: is this the end? Or is it just a trick? Tell me what you think.
Author: SansuCry
Email: sansucry@earthlink.net
Rating: TEEN, some parts MATURE for violence and language
Category: AU, M/L.
Disclaimer: I have no affiliation with Roswell or any one associated with it.
Summary: My own little Roswell world. No Isabelle. No Tess. No shooting. It’s Halloween time, and Liz Parker is going to learn all about monsters and aliens and soulmates. My apologies to all the Kyle lovers out there…he just makes a great villain.
A/N: I know, I know. Another story. Well, I’m hoping this will be just a few short parts, but you know how that goes….I’ve got a million ideas for fics written down, some complete with outlines, but somehow I end up writing the ones that just pop into my head. Like this one.
Well, this part is the Epilogue, so if you haven't read the story go here first before continuing:
Tricks and Treats Archive
Epilogue Part 1
October 30, 2000
“Way to go, Valenti!” Tommy Sanders called out across the quad.
“Good one, man. Good one,” Paulie Smith added with a thumbs up sign.
Kyle raised his right arm to his friends in a victory wave as he pulled Liz into his side. “Thank you. Thank you very much,” he returned in a very bad Elvis impersonation.
“Kyle, what’s going on?” Liz asked with a concerned frown. Kyle was one of the most popular juniors at West Roswell, but even this kind of attention was unusual to say the least.
“Nothing, babe,” he said as he gave her a peck on the cheek. “Just celebrating this past fine and glorious weekend.”
“Oh,” she said as they walked toward the room where her first class was held. She knew that the football team had won the game Friday night by a landslide. Of course she had been there. Her boyfriend was co-captain of the team after all, but she couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling that Kyle’s jovial attitude and growing popularity had nothing to do with the team’s victory. Before she had a chance to question him further, the bell rang and they had to part ways.
Even for a Monday morning, English class buzzed with an excessive amount of chatter, and as Liz strained to pick up on some of the latest scuttlebutt she swore she heard a few people quietly muttering the name Max Evans. Strangely enough, all eyes involved in the conversation seemed to immediately shift to her after each incantation.
“C’mon, guys and girls, settle down. I know you’re all wanting to gossip about your oh so busy weekend, but the next hour is my time,” Mrs. Matthews directed. “Now does anyone remember where we left off in Romeo and Juliet?”
Liz’s mind quickly drifted away from anything related to Mrs. Matthews or William Shakespeare. Max Evans. Even now, just hearing his name made her heart race as much as it had the first time she had seen him. He was the new kid when they had begun the third grade, living alone with his widowed father in a nondescript part of town. She had noticed him the minute he had set foot on the playground, his feathered bangs draped across his forehead as his face studied the asphalt near his shoe. To this day she still remembered the absolute peacefulness and sense of completion that had flowed through her the first time that his warm, amber eyes stared at her, glimpsing into her very soul as he allowed her to experience the beauty and gentleness of his.
She had felt that same comforting sensation many times a day, every day, during the next four years, yet she and Max hadn’t spoken more than a handful of words to each other over that same time frame. It wasn’t as if she hadn’t tried to talk to him, but every time she did he shied away from her, just as he did with everyone else in the school. Then as soon as she would walk away he would gaze at her with such a sense of longing that his eyes would be practically begging her to come back to him. With each reluctant rejection she had begun to wonder whether his self-imposed isolation was actually something that was beyond his control, but then she would scoff at herself for such foolishness. He was just a timid loner, plain and simple.
Of course his shyness was misinterpreted as conceit by some of their classmates and, as they changed from children into ‘young adults,’ the taunting and snide remarks become a daily occurrence. The spitefulness toward the boy who preferred to sit by himself and read grew a little worse each day until one morning half of the mesmerizing amber gaze that she had begun to revel in wasn’t visible past his swollen blackened eyelid. Someone had beaten him up. Through the Roswell Junior High rumor mill, and the Maria grapevine in particular, Liz found out that Kenny Sanders had attacked Max on the walk home from school the previous afternoon. Peculiarly enough, Maria had commented, Max hadn’t lifted a finger to fight back.
Up until that point Liz had done the best she could to defend Max to her classmates without getting too involved, taking the teasing in stride while championing his cause even as he continued to remain stoically silent. However, this full out assault on such a quiet, gentle soul was the last straw for her. If he wasn’t going to put an end to their abuse, she would do it for him. That afternoon during P.E. class, it was a matter of pure luck that Kenny had been chosen as the opposing team’s catcher for the class’s baseball game. Unfortunately for him luck had nothing to do with the fact that Liz’s hands couldn’t keep a tight enough grasp on the wooden bat when it came time for her to hit the ball. Kenny’s nose had been broken, and as all the other kids rushed to get a better view of the blood pouring from the startled boy’s face, two sets of eyes shared the knowledge that the accident had been anything but accidental.
The next morning Liz had found a single white rose in her locker, and as she rushed to her classroom to thank Max she had been surprised to see that he was not sitting at his desk. He didn’t return the next day either, and after a week of absences Liz realized that Max had permanently left the public school system.
Her reminiscing was interrupted by a sharp jab in her side. She started to give the perpetrator a piece of her mind when she realized it was Maria. Her best friend pointed to the book in front of her and mouthed the command, “Pay attention.”
Liz looked around at the other occupants of the classroom. This scenario seemed so familiar, almost as if she were experiencing déjà vu, yet something was…different. Now if she could only figure out what…
“I’d ask what’s up with you, chica,” Maria commented after class ended, “but I’m sure I already know it has to do with Max Evans.”
“People keep whispering his name and staring at me,” Liz explained. “I’ve got a strange feeling that something really bad is going on.”
“If it would make you feel better I’ll take you to go see him after school,” Maria offered.
“Just like that?” she questioned.
“Yeah, why not?” Maria asked. “I think it’s time he had a visitor, don’t you?”
She couldn’t deny how appealing the thought of seeing Max Evans again after all these years was. Would he remember who she was? Would he still stare at her as if he were seeing into her soul? Deciding she had nothing to lose she gave Maria an amicable smile and said, “Sure, why not.”
Later that day they met by the Jetta and drove out of the parking lot in silence, Maria’s unusual solemness more than a little unnerving. Did her friend know why everyone at school had been talking about her and Max? She wanted to ask, but the words wouldn’t come out of her mouth.
“Why are we here?” she asked in confusion when the car finally came to a stop.
“I brought you to see Max,” Maria explained.
“Why would Max be here? This isn’t his house,” she apprehensively explained. “He lives on Murray Road with his dad.”
Maria let out a sigh and said apologetically, “I’m sorry, Liz. I shouldn’t have brought you out here. I thought you were ready to deal with this, but I can see now that I was wrong.”
“Deal with what?” she asked, the panic rising in her throat. “Maria, tell me what is going on.”
Her friend diverted her gaze out the window, a sniffle and quick wipe of her face revealing her emotional state. “Liz…” she began, then suddenly sat straight up in the seat. Craning her neck to get a better view of a particular spot in the distance, she said with a low moan, “Oh, no. I can’t believe it. How could Kyle do something like this.” Before Liz could ask her friend for an explanation, the blonde was out of the car and dashing across the grass. Liz had no other choice but to follow.
She nearly tripped over a sobbing, crestfallen Maria when she breached the next hill, a startled gasp escaping her mouth before she froze at the sight in front of her.
“I’m sorry, Liz. I didn’t think the rumor was true or I wouldn’t have ever brought you out here,” Maria choked out.
Liz refused to understand why she should be upset about a kicked over gravestone defaced with spraypainted phrases like “FREAKS R US” and a few misspelled “PSYCHO”s until she saw the impossible.
Maxwell Z. Evans
March 15, 1984-October 31, 1996
“No,” she insisted with a shake of her head. “NO! Something is wrong. Max isn’t dead. I know he isn’t.”
“Liz…”
“He can’t be dead,” she vowed as she dropped to the ground alongside her friend, her tears preventing her from taking another look at the toppled granite marker. “This is all wrong. I’ve seen the future, and this is not how it’s supposed to be. Max is my soulmate. We’re going to get married in Las Vegas. When we make love we’ll be nervous because it will be the first time for both of us. Our babies will be born on Halloween. And we’ll live happily ever after. He’s not dead. He’s not.”
She felt a pair of comforting arms wrap around her as Maria’s voice pleaded, “Liz, please don’t do this to yourself. Max’s death wasn’t your fault, and you have to let this go.”
“Something’s not right, ‘ria,” she protested. “Max is alive. I can feel him.”
“C’mon, chica,” Maria quietly requested. “Let me take you home.”
“No,” she countered. “Take me to Max’s house. I need to talk to his dad. He’ll know the truth.”
Maria’s grasp stiffened around her, “Liz, you’re delirious. You don’t know what you’re saying.”
She wrenched herself away from Maria and stumbled to her feet. “If you won’t take me there, then I’ll walk.”
Maria threw her hands out in frustration, “Liz, you know Max’s dad doesn’t live in that house anymore.”
“No,” Liz spat out, “I don’t know anything, because where I come from Max Evans is alive and well and living with his dad on Murray Road.”
“That may be so in the land of denial you’ve created for yourself,” Maria despondently remarked, “but this is the real world, and in this world Max Evans was beaten up in the seventh grade by Kenny Sanders. You broke Kenny’s nose in retaliation, and the next day Max didn’t show up for school. When he didn’t come back at all the school called the police to check out his house. They found his dad sitting in the middle of the kitchen floor, covered in blood and holding Max’s dead body, rambling on about giving his son a peaceful death before ‘they’ could capture and torture him. Mr. Evans doesn’t live there anymore because he’s in prison. It wasn’t your fault, Liz. Mr. Evans was crazy. No one could have predicted that he would do what he did.”
Liz’s legs suddenly couldn’t hold her up as she recognized that Maria was telling the truth, and before the inviting blackness completely surrounded her she was hit with the horrible reality.
Max Evans had been murdered by his father four years earlier.
And it was all her fault.
Well, here I am at the end of my first completed fic. I know most of you had faith that I would provide a happy ending, so I guess now you have to ask yourselves: is this the end? Or is it just a trick? Tell me what you think.