Roswell Fanatics

Story title: Complicated by elizibeth
Author’s email: shyelizibeth@yahoo.com
Spoilers: Post EOTW
Category: Polar M/L
Rating: MATURE
Summary: This centers on Liz and how she copes after future max.
Warnings: Angst. Mentions of suicide and has depressing thought. It is recommended to bring tissues along for the ride. It does have a happy ending.
Disclaimer: Uhh, I don’t own it… the Sci-fi does.




Part 1

Dear Journal,

I lay in bed and wonder…is this my last entry? Can I really do it today? No! Why can’t I find the courage to take that last step? I wonder ever day why I am still here. Why do I stay here? What’s left? Nothing. That’s right nothing. I want to believe that there is something, anything out there for me. But sadly every day I believe there is less and less.

I have sadness and despair to keep me company in the darkness that I have enveloped myself into like a cocoon. Hmph! I’m cracking up now. Seems it’s all too much lately. The hysteria is setting in. I find it funny that I think I’ve created a cocoon of darkness for myself. When you think of cocoons you think of butterflies and beauty. Of life, joy, and happier times.

The other cocoon isn’t a cocoon it’s similar though. When you think of a cocoon what also resembles a cocoon? A womb. So it’s funny really isn’t it? That I sit here full of despair and thinking…contemplating the end and how to get there; and also thinking of a womb of life.

So am I finally cracking? No I don’t believe I am. Why do you ask…because I believe that I broke a long time ago. But I brought this all on myself. This is all my fault. Why am I who I am? Who made me be this way? Are you who you make yourself to be or are you a product of your environment?

If your thinking you’re a product of your environment then what happens when everyone around you disappears? Whether its because they are too god damn busy, don’t care, or because you pushed them away? You would think that if someone truly loved you they would stick by you no matter what; that they would see who you truly are.

But he didn’t. He was supposed to be my soul mate. And wasn’t it grandma Claudia who said: “if it isn't complicated, he probably isn't a soul mate.” But now I am not so sure how much faith I should put in an old woman even if she was really wise, even if I loved her.

In the end I guess I wonder how complicated it should be and whether or not it could be too complicated. Where even if someone were your soul mate if outside influences could tear you apart. Where people could keep us apart. I would like to think that if your soul mates that nothing would keep you away, that nothing either person did would matter, that no matter what you saw with your eyes…your heart would always tell you the truth and you would then believe your heart over everything else.

So what does this all mean then? I’m afraid to admit it, any of it. I just don’t know what to do anymore. I just want to feel something, anything besides this gut wrenching despair. I don’t want to feel hollow anymore. I guess that’s the reason I started to hurt myself…to feel something else. Funny how a person that doesn’t want to feel anymore, does things that make them feel.

TBC????

Part 2

Dear Journal,

Ok so I haven’t written in forever. Probably thought I did it huh? Well I didn’t as you can see. I was so close though…you see Max came to me one night and gave me back the Swiss army knife I gave him for Christmas. Said he couldn’t let go and move on til he actually lets go. So that’s why he had to give it back to me… because to him by keeping it he was holding on to me, to us.

It seems odd to me that he could be holding on to me and yet never see me. He never saw a damn thing. I think he saw only what he wanted to see. Its sad to think that the only thing he wanted to see, wanted to believe was Kyle and I in bed together.

So he gave the knife back to me and it just seemed at the time to be the final straw. That was it. I wasn’t me any more. I was done for. So I had sat there, starring at the knife or more specifically the inscription: Max and Liz 4-ever.

It seemed everything was a blur. I couldn’t really see anything but the outline of the knife. I just sat there and starred and for the first time in ages I had what I wanted. I was numb. I felt nothing. I couldn’t even think. I hadn’t even realized that I was crying. That was why everything was blurred. I was crying.

But they weren’t tears of despair. No they were tears of clarity. I finally realized what that poet meant. The inscription became clear to me. “Max and Liz 4-ever” that’s what the inscription said…it said 4-ever. We were supposed to be forever. But he gave it back to me. And the thought that came through the loudest was that the poet was right.

Why was the poet right? Well I think that’s something you need to figure out for yourself. Just like I did. Well not exactly how I did. But I truly think the poem speaks for itself.




Him & Me

“Together forever we shall be” he said.

And I told thee then that it’s not that long and that we need another word to be the time that we shall be together.

For, together forever is and will always be too short for me.

So, won’t you tell me, what is the word that you get…when you add together; all of life’s journeys and all that is to be beyond.

Can’t you tell me please? For I cannot see…for I was blinded by the love I have for thee. Which is more powerful cant you see than anything we believe in up above us.

But for all I knew and all that I felt I couldn’t stop the fact that I couldn’t find the word the time that was to be longer than forever.

Since, forever as he said we would be you see him & me is what we turned out to be and I say again and still believe together forever is too short for me.


Do you see why the poet was right? There’s another poem I think fits but I don’t think I’m ready to share that one yet.

Tbc...

Part 3

After, close, a few days later.

‘So I walk down stairs to get something to eat cause honestly there’s nothing up stairs. But after I hit the last step and bound around the corner I have to stifle my gasp for ahead of me in the Crashdown kitchen is Michael Guerin with nothing on above the waist except a bandana on his head.

Damn! I can’t help but think he’s been working out…and hard…because he is ripped beyond belief. And when he turns away from me I can see his sculptured back which I let lead my eyes down to his tight ass.

This time I don’t seem to be able to hold my groan at bay. God I can’t help but get this visual of running my hands over his ass, scrapping it with my nails. Digging my nails into it while he drives into me. Whoa where did that come from?

I wonder if he heard me groan? Do I have time to hide? Oh I think he heard me…cause his back is all coiled and stiff. When he doesn’t turn around I think I am in the clear but then he slams his hand on the counter.’

“Dammit, I don’t need this. Will you leave me alone already,” Michael growls out.

‘It seems to me it’s more of a command to leave…not something that leaves room for response. But I just feel like I should say something.’

“I’m sorry,” is all I could muster to say before I had turned to run back up the stairs.

I hadn’t even said it loud enough where he could have heard me but somehow he did anyway because before I hit the steps he had a hold of my arm.

“Liz stop.”

Even so I don’t turn around. I just feel the heat coming off him and his breath at my neck. I just want to lean back into him and have him wrap his arms around me. Somehow I just know that’s where I belong…in the safety of his arms.

Somehow I got turned around because I am now looking at his chest and he has one hand at my waist and the other at my arm.

“Liz,” Michael calls but I still don’t look up.

He takes the hand he had at my waist and puts his finger under my chin and gently forces me to look at him. And I do only because I want him to put his hand back where it was at my waist.

I stand there starring at him drowning in his eyes. Neither of us speaks aloud. I’m afraid speaking will break the silent communication we have with our eyes. But then it all becomes too much and I can’t seem to stop myself from breaking the connection.

I drop my eyes back to his chest and I can’t help but wonder how it would feel under my hand. Without skipping a beat my hand comes up and splays itself across one of his pecs. For a minute everything goes still. Then I move my hand across his pecs and use my finger to circle his nipple. The other I move to his back.

I’m afraid to look up. Afraid of what I’ll see. Afraid of what I won’t. With one hand I am feeling out his back. The other dips down to his abs, and then to circle his naval, and then to dip a finger beneath the top of his jeans. At his gasp I look up. In his eyes I see everything I suppose he sees mirrored in my own. So much emotion and yet at the forefront is desire, longing, and hope.

Keeping eye contact I can’t hold back any longer…I lean in close and let my tongue circle his nipple a couple times before I latch down and begin to suckle. All the while I watch him. The minute my tongue came into contact with his skin his eyes seemed to roll back slightly. He bit his lip and was struggling to keep his head from falling back in what I can only assume and hope is delirious pleasure.

After I give the other the same treatment I begin to drop to my knees. I start dropping kisses across his chest as I go to kneel in front of him. But before I can fully drop down he’s grabbed a hold of my forearm and has pulled me back up to him. And what I see in his eyes is a far cry from my own. His eyes hold anger, fear, sadness, and at the forefront is regret. At the regret my body chills and I don’t fight him.

“What the hell is this?” Michael yells.

For a second I looked at him dumbly till I see where his eyes are fixated… at my wrist or more specifically at the bandage that is wrapped around my wrist.

“Oh.”

“Oh, that’s all you have to say?”

At his tone I snap. I yank my arm from his hold and turn to put a few paces between us needing them to think more clearly.

“Don’t you dare walk away from me!” Michael commands as he goes to grab me.

My wrist being the closet thing…I wince at his hold on my wrist and begin to crumble from the pain. He lets go of my wrist at my whimper of pain but tries to grab a hold of me before I collapse but I push him away from me and let my self fall to the ground. After I hit the ground I crawl a few feet away from him.

“No!” I scream at him when he try’s to get closer.

“Please, tell me” Michael asks/states barely above a whisper.

“What? Tell you what?” I ground out not being able to take the regret and pity in both his eyes and voice.

“Liz, Damn-it! That’s enough, ok, no more. I wont let you hurt your self anymore.” Michael yells.

At the surprise in my eyes he continues.

“I’m not Max. I’m not stupid. Nor am I blind. I see the cuts. I see the bruises. I see you fading away everyday. I thought I’d convinced myself that is wasn’t my problem. That you were Max’s to deal with. That Maria or Alex would see it and I wouldn’t have to get involved. But I can’t wait for them anymore. I realize that now. I realize that…”

At his soft tone I charge at him. I pound into him as I yell. “What? What do you realize? Huh? Tell me! What do you think you understand?”

With that I run into the kitchen with him hot on my trail. For a second I see fear when I turn around to face him with the knife in my hand.

Tbc...

Part 4

“What do you understand Michael? Do you get what its like to hate yourself, to hate your life, to not want to live anymore? Do you get what it’s like to feel so much that you have to hurt yourself just to feel something else, anything else? Do you get that? Do you understand what it feels like when you realize that you’re a coward? That you can’t take that last step because you are afraid? Do you understand the desperation? Do you? Do you realize the depth of my pain? Do you understand me Michael? Do you understand how I feel?”

“Your not…your not a coward Liz” Michael whispers with tears in his eyes.

“Aren’t I? I hated myself…my life and yet I did nothing about it. What did I do? I cut myself. I ran into things. I jumped off my bed and slammed my body into my desk. I tortured my self. I did everything I could think of to punish myself. And yet when it all came down to it…I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t kill myself. No, I just played with the goddamn knife instead.

“ Do you realize what it’s like to hold a knife against your skin…to want to plunge it within your depths…to realize you’ll never do it? Because you can’t…because your afraid…afraid of the lasting effect…of the final pain. That no matter the final result of death…no matter the lure to not feel anymore…that you can’t do it. Do you realize…do you understand how I feel? How desperate I became? That all I could think about was asking someone to push it in for me...to help me die?

“You know I had a scary thought a few days ago. When I came down into the kitchen and saw you chopping something up. I had realized in a second that it was an opportunity. That all I had to do was startle you and it would be over. I just had to find the right position and startle you. You would whirl around knife in hand and it would be all it took… that the knife would be embedded, that my life would begin to slip away.

“But then I started to think of you. And how you would react. How you would blame yourself. I just couldn’t do it. That’s when I realized that I was so pathetic…I was such a coward that I was thinking of ways that my friends could accidentally kill me. To realize the amount of sadness, pain, and regret I was nearly willing to put on someone else.

“I realized I needed to wake up. That I had to make a choice to either do it myself or shut the fuck up.” With that I put the knife down. After that everything was silent. It seemed like ages before it was broken.

“When?”

Startled with his abrupt question and not quite sure what he was asking I just looked at him questioningly.

“When?” he asks again but this time he gently grabs a hold of my bandaged wrist.

“Oh…a few days ago.” I respond as realization hits me.

“But, I thought…you said…”

“I realized some things after that day. All day during my shift you had been looking at me like you really saw me. You gave me this look at one point…after you had yelled at me to get moving, the orders were getting cold, you didn’t cook for yourself, yada yada…you just gave me this look that said I know. I know what your doing. Stop fucking around you won’t get pity from me…”

“I didn’t mean… I just…”

“No, Michael I know! You see that look made me realize some things that I hadn’t wanted to realize before. You made me come to terms with some things that I needed to come to terms with. This (holding up her wrist) was just closure. Now (dropping her wrist back down) it’s time to heal. It’s time to live again.” And with that I walk past him to the stairs.

And for the second time that night he stops me. But this time it’s different. He whirls me around and brings me flush against him. He stares down at me and then brings his mouth down upon mine. And with that kiss…with the flashes he gave me…I realize he sees me. He knows me…he believes in me. He never doubted me…he knows I never slept with Kyle. He knew I was hurting myself. He’s pissed that he didn’t do anything. With that flash I have to pull away I have to reassure him.

“No Michael you did do something. It may not have been as direct as you would have liked…but it got to me better than the direct approach would have. I got my closure. I’m willing to try and live my life because of you. Don’t blame your self for a second. You gave me what I needed. You gave me the strength to try…you gave me the strength to move on.”

Tbc...

Part 5

Dear Journal,

When I wonder whether or not it’s worth it and whether or not we will make it all I can think of in answer are two things my grandma Claudia said to me before she died.

“Follow your heart”

And

“If its not complicated, he probably isn’t a soul mate”

For a long while I was lost. I thought Max was my soul mate but he’s not. He’s far from it. He was a stop in my journey to finding my true soul mate. I lost my way for a while but I found my way home. I found my soul mate.



“Hey” Michael says as he slips behind me in the lawn chair out on my balcony and pulls me against him.

“You don’t want to catch a cold.”

“No I guess I don’t” I respond as I snuggle into his embrace as he wraps the blanket he brought with him around us.

“You ok?” he asks

“Yeah I think I am. Actually I’m better than ok, I’m fabulous.” I say while I turn around and straddle his lap letting the journal fall to the ground.

“Yeah” he replies huskily.

“Yeah” I say while I descend to his awaiting lips.

After a sweet kiss he pushes me slightly away. And looks at me as he asks, “Are you sure? I got to know now Liz…I’ll walk away if that’s what you want.”

“Michael that’s not what I want.”

“What do you want?” he asks barely above a whisper.

“You!”

“You already got me. So you are sure about this? About you and me? Speak now or hold your peace cause I am not ever going to let you go.”

“You know I was wondering if it was worth it, whether or not we would make it…”

“And?”

“I remember what a wise old woman once said. She said to follow your heart. And Michael my heart has led me to you. And whether or not we make it well…I think we will…we may have some bumps in the road along the way but I think that as long as we remember what that old woman said we will make it. We just have to believe and we have to be willing to try. We have to work cause nothing worth while comes easy.”

“What’s the second thing your grandma said?”

“If its not complicated, he’s probably not a soul mate.”


The end!!!