Roswell Fanatics

Title: Remember November
Author: Amy
Rating: TEEN. I don’t think it should get past that. If it does, I’ll warn you.
Category: AU M/L
Summary: This is a bit different from the Roswell we know. Liz was shot, and Max did heal her, but that’s about all that’s the same. Beyond that, I guess you have to read to find out.
Author’s Note: Don’t read too much into the title... Me and my friend thought it sounded familiar, so... I’m not sure it has much bearing, but for now that’s what it is.
Disclaimer: Tristement, je ne possède rien. (Sadly, I own nothing... or at least that's what I think (hope) it says. French and I are having some difficulties right now. It has decided to flee my brain right before my final, and I've decided to only learn the bad words... it's a fantastic system.)


Prologue

Tears burned her eyes as the rain beat down on her, feeling like knives where they touched each piece of her already frozen shell of a body, only she couldn’t feel it. She could only stare, delaying a decision she should have made long ago.

The house loomed before her, so innocent now that she was beyond its grasp. The windows shed small pieces of light onto the front lawn, lighting the sleeping rose bush like the angels were lit on television. It looked so perfect, so normal. It was all part of the façade, part of the lure.

She wanted so badly to rush inside, to forget, to pretend. She couldn’t force her legs into movement though, at least not that movement. She couldn’t go back, not now that she was out, now that freedom was a mere breath away. But what about tomorrow? What would she do then? She would never really be free. She was hunted. She was different.

Headlights burned through the rain just blocks away, and she turned to the bushes behind her, blending as if leaves had suddenly sprung from her sides. She wouldn’t be able to hide long though. There was no time for second guesses or what ifs. Her decision had already been made, from the moment her hand closed around the handle. Her path was laid out, and there were only two options. She would run, or... She couldn’t even think of the other possible option.

It was in that moment that her mind was made up, and she placed her fate in the hands of the cosmos and ran for the horizon.

TBC... Tell me what ya think...

AN: Well, finals are over, thank god, and you would think that I would have more time because of that, but no. I'm trying to work on this. Really. But my muse is having some issues with Chapter Two. I thought I would get this out there though. Thanks for the feedback. Tell me what you think!


<center>Chapter One
Old Friends</center>

The air was thick and muggy, making her clothes stick to her as the rain water dried them in stiff, uncomfortable angles. Tears ran down her face, pulling her cheeks tight as they dried. The trees around her sagged unevenly as they tried to rid their leaves of the heavy drops that weighed them down. The leaves had turned to yellow weeks ago. The rain would only help to pull the down. The trees we ready to give in. They were ready to sleep. So was she.

The park bench was hard, and pressed the small buttons on the sides of her jeans into her thighs, leaving tiny imprints. She was glad for the light pain, though. It proved she was still there. It proved she could still feel.

A lone phone booth stood on the outskirts of the park, just at the edge of her vision. Rows of houses filled the scenery behind it, and a usually crowded play structure loomed before it. Absentmindedly, her hand found its way to her ankle, to the scar she still bore from falling from monkey bars years before. Things had been so much simpler then. Things are always simpler from a child’s eyes.

Tears once again blotted her vision as she stared at the forgotten play set. She wished to be forgotten too. She wanted to be left there—left to rust away with the old structure that had once marred her body. She wanted to be lost forever in the hidden depths of the dormant park.
That was when her eyes fell to the back drop—the rows upon rows of houses that stood guard over the park, watching its every breath and movement. The park was not forgotten; it was simply abandoned at the first wisp of a rain drop, and left to be reclaimed when the sun shone through again. No, the park was no haven. The park was simply a disguised prison, and she couldn’t handle any more of those.

The phone came into view again, looking like the only exit in the unending maze that covered her tracks. She could feel the soft weight of excess change in the cargo pocket of her pants. There was a quiet jingle when her ankle moved enough. It would be enough to make a call. But who was left to help her.

Biting her lip, and swallowing a good portion of her pride, she crossed the muddy grass, pausing for just a moment at the side of the bars that had once caused her so much pain. Ironic. Now she would give just about anything to have gravity be her biggest problem.

The phone booth loomed ahead, a sturdy reminiscence of a time almost forgotten—a time before cell phones and pagers and text messages. She stepped in, sliding the door closed as it creaked in protest.

The coins fell in, clanking as they were caught and deposited into their allotted slots. The dial tone flickered against her ear as each coin fell into place. She bit her lip once again as the last coin fell into place, and the dial tone returned, strong as when she first picked up the receiver. Now, all that was left was to dial. Easier said than done.

The number was etched into her memory. She had dialed it far too many times to recall, from the first tear filled break up in middle school to the trying study sessions that were not fully behind her. Before another thought could pass through her head, her fingers followed the familiar pattern, listening to the intruding beep as she pressed the cold metal buttons. Then the ringing began, and she leaned against the cold metal pane of glass, waiting for whatever was to come. She wouldn’t even allow herself to guess anymore. To guess would be to assume, and she had been wrong too much lately to trust an assumption.

“Hello?” the familiar voice said, sending waves of comfort even through the cold phone line.

“Alex?” The phone was clutched to her ear, picking up every quiver in her breath, ever hiccup in her voice. In her mind, she prayed he could forget, that he would forget, just for a moment... just for a night.

“Liz?” His voice was low, lacking the sarcasm, the anger that had been associated with her. In the moment, the terror of her voice had wiped his memory of the weeks before, of anything besides the friendship that had saved him more than once. “Is that you? Liz, say something!”

“I need you.” Her voice cracked as she felt her tears brush the back of her eyes.

“Where are you?”

“The park.” He made an illegible sound from the other end of the line and she slid the phone back onto the receiver and let herself slip down to the grimy floor of the tiny square compartment, preparing herself for a story she never intended to tell.
...
The rain began again shortly after she hung up the phone, surrounding her in the harsh echoes of each drop beating against the glass pains that encased her, demanding entrance into her last haven. With her knees pulled her chest, she huddled into a ball on the rusting, muddy floor letting her tears exist as the only rain inside of the booth. No cars passed by. The city was sleeping, just like the trees would be soon. She wondered if she would ever be able to sleep again. She knew she could never banish the nightmares.

A thick sheen of fog built up on the windows around her, letting her own breaths suffocate her as she tried to will herself to forget. Forget the cries in the night. Forget the pain that pulsed through the walls like the bass does from a stereo. Forget those who hadn’t escaped. Forget those who never could. Forget what she had abandoned.

Headlights washed over her, sending an irrational finger of fear down her spine. She wondered if she would ever believe in safety again, much less feel it.

A familiar silhouette shone as shadow between the beam of the headlights and her breath on the windows. Liz didn’t move. She couldn’t. She knew better than anyone of the tricks one could play on your mind. Just because you saw it didn’t mean it was real. Your eyes were no better guides than your heart, each blind to different deceptions.

The door folded in, and Liz gasped, unable to contain her fear, though she knew the face before her as well as her own.

“Oh, my God, Liz,” Alex gasped, reaching for her. She recoiled, and a whole new wave of uncertainty washed over him. Mistrust and lies lingered between them, making the air thick as they eyed each other cautiously, oblivious to the rain falling around them.

“What did you, me and Maria dress up as for Halloween in seventh grade?” she asked, testing him. She had seen her eyes lie to her. She had never seen heard her memories lie.

“I was Peter Pan,” Alex said, answering easily as he remembered the costume as vividly as a nightmare. It was the one and only time he had agreed to be part of a group costume. Of course Maria would choose tights. “You were Wendy, and Maria was Tinkerbelle.” He smiled despite himself.

Suddenly Liz was off the ground, nearly choking him in her embrace. “I’m so sorry, Alex,” she sobbed. “I’m so sorry.” Her tears mixed with the rain as he gently rubbed her back, not asking for explanation.

“Shh,” he whispered. “It’s okay.” Gently, he pulled her away. “Let’s go before we freeze to death,” he told her, leading her gently to his car. Where they were going, neither knew.

Alex helped Liz in and then walked back to his side of the car, starting it only for the heater. “Where am I taking you Liz?” he asked, voicing a question with more meanings that he could say.

“Anywhere but back there,” she whispered, her voice breaking. There was so much between them, so much hurt and anger on both sides. So many lies and half-truths. So many years of trust and friendship. All that mattered in that car at that moment though, was the latter, as Alex watched one of his strongest friends crumple before his eyes.

He nodded tightly, gently pulling the car into gear. “I won’t ask you what happened,” he promised. “Not yet. But I need to know Liz. I need to know soon, or I can’t do this anymore.”
...
He made her climb in through his window. No one could know she was there. Not his parents. Surely not hers. Probably not even Maria, not yet at least.

She nearly collapsed coming through his window, needing his help as she started a one way trip to the floor, head first. He wanted to ask her why, but he promised he wouldn’t. Looking at her, her hair matted and covered in twigs and leaves, hanging in wet bunches, her clothes thin and soaked through, shivering like a cartoon telephone, he couldn’t grill her about this. He couldn’t ask the questions. He couldn’t hurt her like she had him. He wouldn’t.

“Here are some pajamas,” he said, handing her one of his oversized tee shirts and a pair of flannel pants. “I’ll sleep on the floor; you take my bed.”

“No-” she started, before he cut her off.

“Yes, you’re shaking from cold, and I will be fine on the floor,” he told her. “I’m going to brush my teeth and grab a sleeping bag. I’ll knock before I come in to make sure you’re decent.” Then he left.

Liz tore out of her clothes quickly, wanting to be rid of the reminder. Quickly, she balled them up and set them on the desk chair before pushing that under the desk so she wouldn’t have to see them. Then, she quickly pulled Alex’s clothes over her head, comforted by just the smell of him. The mix of laundry detergent and mint, from the aroma balls that she knew his mother put in his drawers. It was homey. It was something she hadn’t felt in over a month. It was something <i>they</i> wanted her to forget.

There was a small tap on the door, and she whispered to Alex that she was dressed. She would have to tell him the truth now. There was no way around it. She only wished that there were some way to undo it once he knew. She only wished that he would be able to unlearn her story, because she knew he would want to.

“Do you want to know what happened?” she asked, knowing that there would be no better time. “The truth?” He nodded slowly, throwing his sleeping bag out on the floor so he could sit on it. She sat on his bed, the familiar twin bed that they had somehow managed to share with not only each other, but Maria too, at one time.

“You don’t have to tell me tonight,” he said. “You should rest tonight.”

“It won’t be any easier tomorrow,” she told him, scaring him with the lifeless tone. “I don’t even know if I’ll even have time to explain now. They aren’t just going to let me go, Alex, and I can’t just leave.”

“Liz, I’ll help you however I can. I won’t let them hurt you. Is that what happened? Did they hurt you?”

She closed her eyes softly. If only she believed he could. It wasn’t that she thought he was lying. She knew he wasn’t. He just couldn’t stop them. She didn’t think anyone could.

“It’s more than that,” she whispered, pulling her knees up to her chest and resting her chin on them. “It’s so much more.”


~~~

A/N: Wow, it's been a while, right? Well, I haven't forgotten this story, and have actually come with a new part. Part of it is from the pilot, which I believe I have already established does not belong to me. Uh, and I think there was something else that I wanted to say here, but it's gone now. Oh well... It couldn't be that important, right? Well, happy early Easter!

Chapter Two
Six Weeks Earlier

The life of a waitress, I sighed, siding behind the counter. “Maria,” I said, shooing her from behind the counter. “You’re on break. Move.”

“I want my chair back when I come back,” she said. “I get to work behind the counter today. I called it.”

“We didn’t know that Agnes’s daughter was going to go into labor,” I said quietly, glad that no one ever sat at the counter, “leaving me with the whole restaurant.” Maria rolled her eyes.

“Listen Liz, if you would just grow the nerve to go against the power and tell your father that that lady doesn’t have any children, and that the picture she shows him came with the little wallet in her purse, we would never have this problem.”

“You could tell him,” I said, sinking into the seat that her friend had vacated.

“What, are you kidding me? That woman scares me.” I gave her a look and Maria shrugged. “Alright, give me fifteen minutes, and I’ll take the room for the next hour, okay?” I smiled, and Maria ducked behind the double employee doors.

Just as the door swung closed behind Maria, the bell over the front door rang, making me jump to my feet instinctually. The man walked straight for the counter, but I didn’t think twice of it. A lot of people came for to go orders. I didn’t even wonder when I heard the click of Jose turning off the burners, as he did when he took a quick break. We only had one chef per shift, so they had to either pick their breaks when the café was empty, or they had to find a time when everything on the grill could stand as is for about five minutes without burning, as long as my father wasn’t around. I was used to them doing the latter. Today there was another reason though, something that I saw all too late. The black handle emerging from his pocket.

The café seemed to go silent all at once, as all eyes found the gun. Then there was a scream, and the machine was out, trigger pulsing at my chest.

Some say time slows down when you’re staring down the barrel of a gun. I thought it stopped. Everything around me had, at least. I wasn’t breathing. I couldn’t move, even when he took the barrel and hit the side of my face—hard—I just stared at him.

“Open the register, bitch!” he snarled, aiming the gun back at my chest. “What the fuck is wrong with you! You hard of hearing or something?” Then everything was happened in a burst as I pulled bills from the register, gathering them as quickly as I could. It wasn’t fast enough though.

“Get down!” he told me. “All of you get down!” he yelled at the customers. “Close your eyes. If I see one open eyes, this one here’s gonna get it.” He signaled to where I was ducked behind the counter. “Sit down!” he told me, and I dropped off of my feet. I didn’t realize what he was doing until later. He wanted a clear shot. He never planned on letting me live.

Sirens started somewhere in the distance, and he took that as his cue. Jose must have called, I thought, letting the stray thought pass through as quickly as it had come. What did it matter, who had called? The police were coming. Somehow, I thought that would save me.

The gunshot came slowly. It was almost like, if I could just gather the courage to move, it wouldn’t hit me. It was wishful thinking, I knew. The laws of physics said that I couldn’t escape it. The laws of physics hadn’t counted on Max Evans though.

The blood came quickly, but instead of it warming me from the outside, it pulled out my heat from the inside. I could hear something, far away, but I wasn’t listening. I was waiting for the blissful silence. It never came though.

Next, there were hands, on my chest and stomach. Then heat, rushing back to my body. Then Max Evans’ face, intent on me. There was blood on his hands, the floor, me. But I was alive.

“I’ll explain,” he said, breaking a bottle of red liquid over me. Tabasco? No, ketchup. “I swear, I will. But don’t tell anyone. Please.” He ran his hand along the wall behind me, making a small hole. “Tell them you spilled the ketchup. You moved and he missed. Please, Liz. Please.” Then he was gone, leaving me with only questions and a single lie to pass to the room.

The employee doors burst open as I pinned just the top button on my uniform back together, revealing Maria, my father, and Jose.

“Oh my God,” Maria said, looking at the mess around me. “Oh my God, Liz!” She threw herself onto the floor into what I knew was a grotesque mixture of my blood and a cheap condiment. “Oh my God, you’re alive. It’s a miracle.”

“I moved at the last second,” I whispered, not trusting my own voice as I clung to her as much as she did to me. “I moved and he missed, and I spilled all this ketchup.” The fragments of the broken bottle were all around us, and my father pulled us up when he saw, drawing me into his own hug.

“I almost lost you,” was all he would say. If only he knew...
...
Wednesday came and went, just a mirage of me cornering Max, only to have him slip through my fingers. Maria had invited herself over for the weekend, and that night found us in The Crashdown’s back room, fumbling through our lockers as we got ready.

“I can’t believe your dad’s still making you work,” Maria said lightly. She wanted to make it all okay. She wanted things to go back to normal. She didn’t realize that it was too early to joke, but I was too out of it to care.

“Yeah,” I said softly, fastening the alien head apron around my waist. “I kind of asked him to let me come back.”

“Why?”

I shrugged. I couldn’t tell her that I wanted to come back because I wanted to catch Max if he came in. I couldn’t even tell her that the very thought of walking through the swinging doors was scarier than any nightmare I had ever had. “I guess I just couldn’t stand to be away.” I smiled tentatively, slamming my locker closed.

“Well, I’m glad to have you,” Maria said, throwing an arm over my shoulder. Together, we walked out into the restaurant, both instantly gravitating towards the counter. The place was near empty. The dinner rush wouldn’t start for another hour and a half. That was why, ten minutes later when the bell rang over the door, both Maria and I jumped.

“Little bouncy today, huh girls?” Jose teased from behind the cold grill, smiling as he looked over our shoulders. Maria rolled her eyes and gave him a tart response, but my eyes were locked on the door.

Max held my eyes for a moment, seemingly locked in place by my gaze. I opened my mouth and closed it slowly, stunned that he had actually come by here, even though he was trying so hard to avoid me. He, like everyone else, had probably assumed that I wouldn’t go to work so soon after the shooting.

“Okay, if you tell me that that is my imagination, I will haul your ass to the optometrist right now,” Maria said when she turned back. With a gentle nudge from her hip, she pushed me towards the end of the counter. Once in motion, it was like I couldn’t stop again, and Max didn’t seem able to uproot himself without the first push.

“We need to talk,” I told him: a blatant statement of the obvious. He nodded and looked around the room anxiously. “Not here,” I said unnecessarily. As much as I wanted to tie him to a chair and make him spew his secrets, there were too many people in The Crashdown. If I was going to get the truth, he was going to have to at least feel comfortable.

“When and where?” he asked. His voice was agitated and defeated, but also somehow hopeful. I couldn’t help the renewed wave of curiosity that it piqued. I was a scientist at heart, after all. Not now though. That dream died with the first white coat.

“Ashton Park,” I said quickly. “Ten-thirty.” He nodded and his eyes lingered on me for just a moment before he spun away, leaving me with only his promise for answers.
...
The hours seemed to crawl by as I waited for ten-thirty. By some stroke of coincidence, I had gotten the early bird parents, meaning that not only did they wake at the crack of dawn, but they fell asleep some time around dusk. Maria always said that it was wasted on me because I could never grow the courage to sneak out. She would have been proud. At a quarter after ten I slipped down the fire ladder on my balcony (another gift that Maria said I didn’t deserve) and walked the few blocks to the park.

Max was waiting on a bench when I got there, head down in thought. I gently kicked the falling leaves to draw attention without scaring him, and he looked up slowly as if he had already known it would be me.

“Hey,” he said. He was sitting at the top of one of the ladders to the play structure, and as soon as he saw me he jumped down.

“Hi.” Like a bolt of lightening, the situation hit me, and a rack of nervousness hit me. I didn’t know Max. Not well, at least. I knew he was good in science. He was quiet, kind of a loner. Not someone that I should have asked to meet me in a park in the middle of the night. Trying to be discreet, I tried to ease some space between us, and either he didn’t notice or he didn’t care. Neither thought was comforting considering that fact that I was pretty sure we both knew that Max could probably bend me in half with his pinky.

“You asked me to meet you, Liz,” he said, taking several steps back and dropping onto a little bench. “If you don’t want to be here then go home.” There’s a note of sadness in his voice that compels me to stay. I want to understand him. I was like Josie Foster in Silence of the Lambs. I wanted to see what was happening in his head, and, at the moment, my fears were pushed aside. I neglected to remember that Hannibal Lector had been behind bars.

“I want answers,” I told him. “I want to know what you did.”

“I betrayed my family,” he said, his voice dropping so low that I had to step forward to hear him. “I exposed them and they’re leaving. I’m going to tell you, and you’re going to run. And I’ll still be here.” His voice was so broken. I took another step forward.

“Who’s leaving?” I asked. “And why do you think I will run?”

“Because you will.” The statement is so matter-of-fact that I almost need to prove him wrong. But I won’t. Not this time at least.

“Why don’t you try me?” I asked defiantly. “What did you do to me?”

“I healed you,” he said. His words were simple and obvious and yet they don’t explain a thing.

“You what?”

“I healed you,” he told me. “I put my hand on your stomach and I looked into your eyes, and I made the bullet go away. I made the hole close. I healed you.”

“How?”

“I’m not like you Liz. I’m not from around here.”

The statement is so captivating, I can’t help but ask, “Where are you from?” His response takes a minute, as if he’s debating the answer. Finally, all he can do is raise a finger toward the sky.

“Up north?” I asked, fighting a lump in my throat. I knew where he was pointing. Even then, I knew. It’s not an easy thing to process though. It’s not something that I think anyone can accept easily.

Max’s answer came quickly then. He only raised the fingers further towards the darkened sky. Without another retort, I fell back inside myself, letting the scientist take control.

“You’re not an... an alien,” I told him, as if I would know more than he would. “I mean, are you?” He just shrugged to that, lifting his soul filled eyes to mine for the first time in minutes. A world of anguish lived there, and I didn’t know how to handle it any better then than I do now. I looked away.

“That’s how I healed you Liz,” he said, his eyes dropping back to the ground. A sick gush of bile rose in my throat, and I had to turn away. What had I gotten myself into? “Now you run away, Liz,” Max told me, and I complied easily, never hearing as his tears fell.
...
That night I dreamt of Max. It was a mosaic of memories superimposed over the scariest aliens of the horror movies. None of which reminded me even slightly of Max. I woke up crying. Little did I know that would be the best part of my day.



TBC... Feedback? You know you want to!

Chapter Three

Max didn’t come to school that day. I kicked myself a thousand times for my stupidity before I ever realized that he wasn’t the only person gone.

“Have you seen Isabel Evans today?” I asked Maria, dropping beside her onto the grass under the tree where we always eat.

“Isabel isn’t here today,” Alex told me with the confidence of a stalker. If she had not been in the habit of changing her clothes three times a day, Alex probably would have been putting tracers on them.

“Alex, I think you’ve crossing that line between healthy and unhealthy obsession,” Maria told him, rooting through her lunch bag.

“This from the woman who will inhale anything that can be wrought down into liquid form,” he threw back.

“What about Michael?” I asked again, cutting into their bickering. “Have either of you seen Michael?”

“I think he skipped again,” Maria said, distain obvious in her voice. “What’s with the twenty questions?”

“Just wondering,” I told them, pulling a flattened bag from my backpack. It would have been easy for me to just push the facts aside. Michael hardly ever came to school anyway, and Isabel and Max could have had a family thing to do. If it had been any other day, I wouldn’t have cared. It wasn’t any other day though, and Max’s voice was the only one that seemed to be taking any space in my head.

“Earth to Liz,” Alex said, snapping a finger in my face. I shook my head and turned my eyes to him. “I asked if you were up for a movie night this weekend at my house.” I nodded absentmindedly. “Good,” Alex continued. I tuned out the rest of the conversation. I toyed with my food until the bell rang, and then quickly threw it into a nearby garbage can before I heard Maria chasing after me.

“Did I piss you off?” she asked. She was smiling, so I knew that she thought the idea was ludicrous. It took a lot for Maria and me to fight, and it didn’t happen often.

“I’m just out of it today,” I told her, remembering too late that Maria and I had Spanish together after lunch, so obviously we walked together.

“I noticed,” she said, looping an arm through mine and casting a worried glance my way. “Are you getting sick?”

“I don’t think so,” I told her. “I just didn’t sleep well.”

Maria shook her head, smiling. “What, did you only get six hours?” she sighs. “Honestly, Liz, too much sleep can be bad for you too. It means that you don’t get the same immunities as the rest of us.” I smiled and tuned her out, knowing the familiar conversation well. At least some things never changed. Or so I thought.
...
After school I decided to go and see Max. I felt horrible for how I had acted, and something told me that I wouldn’t be able to concentrate on anything until I proved to myself that he was okay. Unfortunately, I didn’t realize that seeing him wasn’t going to make anything better.

A police car was parked in the Evans’ driveway, and the front door was slightly ajar when I pulled up across the street. My first thought was to keep driving and pretend that I had never been there, but I couldn’t do that. My body seemed to have a mind of its own, and before I could think about what I was doing, my hand was tapping gently on the front door as I held the knob to keep it from flying open. It was a long minute before Max stood before me. Dark circles rimmed his bloodshot eyes, and it didn’t take a genius to know he had been crying.

“Liz?” he question, his voice amazed. “What are you doing here?”

A wave of concern washed over me. “What’s going on, Max?”

“I can’t...” His voice trailed as he glanced over his shoulder, to where I could see his parents talking to Sheriff Valenti. “I can’t talk right now.”

“Max...” I paused. “I’m sorry about last night.” The words were so small. It seemed like such a meaningless offer, but it was all I had.

He nodded, but it almost seemed as if he wasn’t listening to me. I wrapped my slender fingers around his wrist, and his eyes seemed to gain a new clarity. “I don’t want to run away, Max,” I told him, surprising myself with the honesty in my voice. “Come by The Crashdown if you don’t want to be alone.” I didn’t know how much my words would mean to him when I said them, but it felt right. With nothing left to tell him, I retreated to my car, unsure of what I had done.
...
Kyle was waiting for me when I got home. I almost made it to my room before he saw me, but Agnes is an evil woman who felt the need to greet me by name and draw his attention. She walks a very fine line between stability and unemployment.

“Hi Kyle,” I said, trying not to sound unhappy to see him.

“Hey.” He left his booth and followed me into the back, where we both sat on the employee couch. “Listen, I’m sorry I didn’t come see you sooner.”

“Kyle, we need to talk.” There’s nothing like a near-death experience to throw your life into perspective, and mine had told me that I didn’t want to keep putting energy into the joke that was my relationship with Kyle. The fact that I had, as far as he knew, been inches from biting a bulled and he hadn’t come to check on me didn’t stand well in his defense. I probably wouldn’t have gone out of my way to find him, but I couldn’t just let this opportunity pass so I could keep stringing him along.

“Well that sounds morbid,” he told me, smiling and sliding a little closer to me.

“I don’t think we should see each other anymore.” His arm froze inches above falling over my shoulders, and he just stared at me for a moment.

“Is this because I didn’t come see you?” he asked. “Because I can explain that.”

“It’s not that Kyle,” I told him. Not entirely, I added in my head. “I just don’t have the time for this right now.” I gesture between us. “It’s not about you. I’m just going to be really busy, and I don’t want to keep you in this when I won’t have the time to really be in a relationship.” I think he knew that it was crap, but his ego kept him from calling me on it.

“I understand,” he told me, standing and taking several steps towards the door. I knew Kyle wouldn’t make a scene. It would be easier for him to twist my words to make it look like he had dumped me if he didn’t fight over it. “I’ll see you around.” Then he slipped out the employee doors.


TBC... I know it's short, but things have been really busy lately since school's almost out. I'll try to get the next part out soon.

AN: Another short part. I'm sorry. Finals are next week though, and this was all I could manage. Summer starts in a week, though, and I should have some more free time. You know, if I don't get locked in the office again. But that's another story.

Anyway, here's the one you're looking for...

Chapter Four

“It’s September 20, and I’m Liz Parker.” My pen paused over the crisp pages of the new journal. The whole encounter with Max seemed too surreal to put into words. What was I supposed to say? “Two days ago, I died.” The words flow out on their own, making me see the harsh reality. I would have died. Max saved me. All through my shift I had spun towards the door whenever the bell rang, hoping to see him. Hoping in vain. “Then, things got really twisted.” I gently closed the book at the sound of footsteps on the wrings of my ladder. The footsteps rose to about the middle of the ladder before I heard them start to go back down, and I jumped up at the sound, letting my journal clatter to the balcony without a second glance. The footsteps paused for a moment, and then continued at a faster pace at the sound of my footsteps.

“Max?” I questioned as I reached the edge of my balcony. He froze at the bottom of the latter, looking up at me from the darkness where he was barely illuminated by a streetlight.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered back. “I don’t know what I was... I’m just leaving.”

“Don’t!” I whispered frantically, hoping that my parents wouldn’t hear us. “I’m so sorry about last night, Max. Don’t run away.”

“You did,” he told me.

“Max, I’m so sorry. I was stupid. You didn’t deserve that.”

“Why does it matter so much to you?” he asked. “What do you lose if I leave?”

“What do you gain?” He paused at my words, and seemed to consider them. After a moment, he started back up the ladder. I watched him until he was almost to the top and then went back to my lawn chair, kicking my journal beneath it discreetly as I went.

“I don’t know what to say now,” Max told me when he got climbed over the edge of my balcony.

“Why did you come here?” I had to ask him.

“Have you seen Michael or Isabel today?” I shook my head, remembering their absence from school. Max’s shoulders slumped and he leaned back on the wall of the balcony. “They left last night. I don’t know where they are.”

“Why?” He looked up at me, and he didn’t have to answer. They had left because of me. They left because of what Max did to me. And they left him behind.

“They told me that they were going to,” he said, “if I went to meet you.”

“Max...” I stopped myself, knowing that nothing I said was going to make him feel better. If I told him that he shouldn’t have come and seen me, it would have only made him feel worse. If I said anything about Isabel and Michael—his family—I would have ruined any chance of being in his life. And something inside me said that it wasn’t a chance I wanted to lose.

Instead, I got up and walked over to him, unsure of what I was doing as I wrapped my arms around his shoulders and pulled him towards me. He tensed for a moment before I felt his arms come around my middle, pulling me closer as he lowered his head onto my shoulder.

I’m still not quite sure what happened next. A flush of heat rushed through my body, like a little bolt of electricity had shot through me. I blinked, and I wasn’t seeing as myself anymore. I saw through Max’s eyes, and I felt Max’s feelings. I could feel how he felt to have me in his arms. I could feel his happiness at my acceptance, and his fear and sadness at the loss of his sister and best friend. At the thought of Michael and Isabel, memories flooded my mind. I could see Max, Michael, and Isabel in the woods, covered in slime as they froze like deer before coming headlights. I could see Michael melt into the shadows as Max gestured for him to come back. I could feel Isabel’s hand as she grabbed Max’s, silently comforting him as Michael slipped away into the darkness. Then the memory changed. I saw Max’s first day of school. I saw through his eyes as he stepped off the bus, clutching Isabel’s hand for comfort. I saw me through his eyes. I felt his joy at the sound of my laughter, and I felt him try to step towards me, only to have Isabel’s grip hold true, showing her own fear and weakness for a single moment.

The image flashed to me in high school, laughing with Maria and Alex behind the counter in The Crashdown as Max watched. I saw his glorified image of me. Through his eyes, I was beautiful

The next image was one I knew all too well. I watched the shooting play out through Max’s eyes. I felt his fear as he saw the blood pooling around me. I felt the adrenaline as he pressed his hand against my skin, willing me to open my eyes for him. A rush of heat ran through his hands and the blood stopped flowing. Then I felt the rush of fear in the acknowledgement of what he had done.

Then I saw the park. I felt myself approaching Max, just as he had felt me approaching him. I felt his heart sink as I looked at him, my eyes filled with terror and disgust. I felt his tears fall once he thought I couldn’t hear him. They felt as if they were rolling down my own cheeks.

Then, light a light switch had been turned off inside of one of us, it was gone, and I was Liz again, and he was Max. My arms tightened around his neck as his loosened around my waist. He was giving me the option of leaving. I wouldn’t offer him the same.

A moment later, Max’s hands grasped my hips, gently pushing me back. “You saw it.” I don’t know if he was asking me or telling me, but I nodded.

“Did you see things too?” A surge of insecurity rushed through me at the thought of him seeing me so intimately, but I push it down.

“I didn’t know I could do that until I healed you. I saw all these little pieces of your life.” He paused, and then quickly added. “I didn’t mean to. Now I just thought you should be able to see me too.”

“Thank you.” He nodded.

“I should go.” He looked over his shoulder as he spoke. “I don’t know what my parents would do if they woke up and I wasn’t there.”

He lifted himself off of the wall as I placed my hand on his arm. His eyes flashed to mine. “I won’t run away again,” I promised him. “If you need me, I’ll be here.”

The next moment was a blur of movement as his lips lowered to mine for the briefest moment before he jumped over the railing and back into the darkness.
...
Two days ago I died. Then my world took a dive and flipped upside down. Two days ago, if you would have told me that Max Evans would be climbing up my balcony, I would have laughed in your face. If you would have told me he was going to kiss me, I would have told you to take a trip to the councilor’s office. If you would have told me that he loved me, I would have called the white coats myself.

The scariest thing, though, is how willing I am to fall, to follow. It’s like the first dive on a roller coaster—terrifying, but thrilling and beautiful too. Your head tells you that it’s not right, that it’s not natural, but your heart laughs along, clapping frantically for the falls and breathing deeply on the rises. Your heart tells you that it will all be okay.

I want to jump headfirst into the emotion that Max let me feel. I want to just drop everything and say that we can follow our hearts and it will all be okay. But I can’t. He’s already given too much for me. He’s given his family. I can’t give that back.

Two days ago, I died. Max Evans flipped both of our worlds when he replaced my blood with ketchup and lied to the world to give me life. Apparently he can't keep the world from spinning, though...

AN: Again, this part is kind of short, but, honestly, I forgot about this story. My computer has been kind of angry and it hasn't let me on the site for a while. (Someone's idea of a cruel joke was making this page a restricted page. When I find out who it was, they will suffer severelly. ) Anyway, I'll try to keep up on this story now. I promise. And now I'll shut up.

Oh, and thanks for the great feedback. It caught my eye as soon as I logged in.

Chapter Five

The rumors were already flying by the time I got to school the next day. News of Michael and Isabel’s disappearance left people whispering about everything from an illegitimate baby to late night drug raids, but everyone seemed to have forgotten about Max in the mess of things.

After my connection to Max, it seemed as if I was seeing him everywhere. No matter what class I was going to, I would see him in the hall, head down, lost in the darkness of the world that he had allowed me a glimpse of. He met my eyes only once as we passed, and the emptiness I saw in them struck me harder than the bullet that had nearly taken my life.

“So, have you heard the news?” Maria asked as she dropped herself on the ground that Alex and I had claimed for our lunch table. “Apparently Miss Perfect Isabel Evans has a thing for trailer trash.” She rolled her eyes as she said it, mocking the stupidity of the rumors.

“Can we not talk about them?” I asked, staring at my zip locked sandwich.

“God, Liz, the whole school is talking about them!” I looked up at her, not sure of what I was going to say, but before I can fill in my response I see Max drifting towards the parking lot. I dropped my lunch in front of Alex and jumped up.

“Liz, where are you going?”

I looked at Maria. “Look, there’s just something I have to do, okay? I’ll call you tonight.” She opened her mouth to object by I was already halfway out of the quad.

“Max!” He froze at the sound of my voice, turning slowly to face me. “Where are you going?”

“Don’t worry about it, Liz,” he told me in a way that only made me worry more. “Just go back to your friends.”

“Max?”

“I can’t do this, Liz. I can’t listen to all of this.” He looked over my shoulder towards the group that had gathered on the front steps, not bothering to be discreet about watching us. “I have to go.”

“Let me come with you.” I don’t know where the words came from, but as I followed Max’s eyes back to the school, I knew that I couldn’t go back inside. They would talk about us whether I went or stayed, and I didn’t want to stay to listen to it.

“No, Liz.” He turned and kept walking towards his jeep, and my legs followed by their own command. When Max turned to jump into the jeep and saw me climbing in beside him, the shock on his face almost made me laugh. “Liz...”

“Don’t make me go back in there now,” I pleaded. “If you kick me out, they’ll only talk more.” It took him a moment, a long moment where his eyes seemed to bore holes into me, before he shoved the key into the ignition and we sped away from the school.
...
“What is this place?” I asked, my voice soft and reverent as I leaned back against a tree trunk. After nearly a half an hour of driving straight into the desert, with a sudden turn, Max brought us to a little piece of paradise. Thick, old trees guarded a little lake, no more than ten feet deep in the middle. The heavy September heat didn’t even seem able to break all the way into the little hide out, and the soft breeze that came every few minutes only made it more perfect.

“My dad used to bring us down here when we were kids, back before Isabel decided that riding in the jeep was the closest to “roughing it” that she could handle. We would bring those little inner tube things, and mom would freak out if we went in any farther than our feet could reach, but dad would just float out towards the middle, coaxing us in deeper and deeper.” Max smiled at the memory. “He was always so undefeatable. Even though Isabel was terrified of drowning, as long as she could hold his arm, she’d go to the very center. She wouldn’t do that for anyone else.” He paused, wiggling his toes lightly from where the water is lapping against them. “Last night, I heard him crying. I’ve never heard my father cry.” He lowered his head in shame. “I did this to my family. I broke them.”

“Max, no,” I told him, pulling my knees under me so that I could scurry across the few feet that separated us. “This isn’t your fault.”

“They told me that they were going to leave. They told me not to tell you, but I did it anyway. I betrayed them, and they left me here.”

“Max...” I didn’t want him to hurt, but I didn’t know how to lie to him either. I couldn’t tell him that he was right, or even that they were right. I couldn’t make it make sense to him.

Max didn’t wait for me to find the words, though. He wasn’t finished. “Liz, I don’t think that they got away.”
...
After Max’s broken confession we didn’t talk much. He couldn’t really explain his feelings as anything more than a feeling, and I didn’t know how to make the emptiness inside of him go away. We spent a good portion of the day at the lake, and then we drove out to a little town between Roswell and Albuquerque and got something to eat.

“What are you thinking right now?” I asked, finding myself staring at Max for what seemed like the thousandth time in a matter of hours. The desert flew past us, drifting lazily through the open roof and taking pieces of my hair along for the ride. I lifted my hand and flattened it carefully.

Max sighed, his eyes glancing at me through the darkness that swam between us. The stark reality of his situation hit me full force as his eyes met mine. Even through the darkness, I could see that they looked almost black with pain. “You don’t want to know,” he answered gruffly, his attention turning back to the empty road.

And then my heart took control, pushing my mind to the back seat so that all I can do is watch as I reach out to him, laying my hand over his on the gear shift. “I do,” I whispered. “I can’t do much, Max, but I can listen. Please let me help.”

His eyes focus on our hands as if he isn’t quite sure that it’s real. Slowly, he dragged his eyes back to mine, and he carefully regarded my expression, as if gauging my sincerity. His eyes narrowed, and we both seemed to be caught in the moment.

The shrill cry of a car horn drew us apart, and Max pulled the car back into our lane, slowing down considerably before pulling off of the road altogether.

“What...?” I trailed off as Max threw the jeep into park, ignoring the soft jerk that ran through the vehicle as he did.

“Liz...” An inner struggle was fighting in his eyes. To confide in me, or to hold it all in. I hoped for the former, but I doubted that Max was ready to lay himself on the line for me again. He’d done it once, and not only had it cost him the only family that he had ever known, but I had run from him too. I don’t think that I would have been strong enough to try again. I never got to learn Max’s decision, thought, because just as he opened his mouth to speak a horrible shudder rippled through his body. Instantly, he fell limp, his weight falling towards the door at an alarming pace. I scrambled up, fighting the restraints of the seat belt as I clawed at his collar. Somehow I managed to pull him back against the seat, but he still looked deathly pale, his lips moving as if he was speaking mutely. I unclasped the seatbelt and knelt before him, placing two fingers over his lips to feel his breaths coming in shallow pants. I lowered my hand to his chest, feeling his heart thud heavy behind the hard muscles. Then, with a shuddering gasp, he bolted forward, grasping my hand with a fierceness that left me quivering long after he released me.

“Oh God,” he gasped, his hand dropping my wrist and moving to my stomach. He looked like he might throw up. “Oh God, Isabel.”

“Max,” I said very near the verge of tears. “What happened?” He looked down at me, as if just then realizing that I was there, and then I saw the tears in his own eyes.

“They didn’t get away,” he told me, and the choking sadness in his voice felt like a shoe to my gut. “God, I saw it. He hit her. He hit my sister.” His voice swelled with anger.

“Who, Max?”

My words seemed to deflate him. “I... I don’t know. I couldn’t see.” It took only another moment for the bravado to return. “I have to save them.” His hands went back to the wheel, fingers fumbling for the key, before I reached out and stopped him.

“Max, you don’t even know who you’re saving them from. All you’re going to do is get yourself taken too. You have to be smart about this.” My words met deaf ears as he pushed my hand away. “Listen to me Max! If you get caught too, who will save them then?” He paused, seeming to think that over.

“I can’t just let them be.” His words sounded like a defeat.

“You won’t,” I promised. “Just think first, Max. It’s the only way to save them.” I took his hand, trying to give him any support that I could. “And if you need help—anything—I’ll do it.”

“No, Liz,” he argued. “I can’t bring you into this. It’s dangerous.”

“It’s too late to take me out. I’m a part of this whether you want me to be or not. So you can be smart and let me help you, or you can let whoever has Michael and Isabel find us first.”

“Liz...”

“We have to be fast, Max,” I say, the scientist in me rearing its head. “If they have Michael and Isabel, it’s only a matter of time before they come looking for you. When they do, you won’t be able to keep looking for them.”

“We have to find them.”

That night feels like a lifetime ago now. We didn’t know that we were already too late. We didn’t know that we were only stepping into a carefully laid trap, taking the bait like nothing more than hungry field mice. That night, we had something that I haven’t felt in a long time: hope. We thought we could take down an enemy that knew our every step and breath before ever seeing its face. We were stupid.

Now, more than anything, I want to be stupid. I want to be fearless and hopeful and I want to believe that I can make things right again. That kind of ignorance was the first thing that they killed. Now, I don’t know if I can be the person that I need to be to save the ones I love.

TBC...