This is the place where fics that have not been updated in the past three months will be moved until the author asks a mod to move them back to an active board.
**Edited (are we surprised?!) to add the fabulous coverart by TeddybehrJKT, YAY!!!
Hey all -
Since there's not much to this (yet) I'm just gonna repost the whole thing here. I've been splitting time between this and TH&TH so there should be pretty regular updates (for me, anyway ) from now on.
Thanks everyone who read this from the beginning, your fb was truly appreciated. I promise to smooth out some of the confusing details soon. This is gonna be something of a dark ride but I promise it'll be worth it. And SciFiNut111, frenchkiss70, maxandlizbeliever ya'll were great about bumping this on the old board, so thanks. Oh, and someone had a bit of concern about me neglecting TH&TH (I tried to save fb before the board moved but...a day late and a dollar short, that's me ) - no need to worry. I could never ignore Xan.
Anyhoo - Part 3 is the new one. Hope you like...
Pathos
Title: Demanding Heaven's Gate
Author: Pathos
Rating: ADULT
Disclaimer: I own nothing. Let's not talk about the morons that do...
Author's Note/Summary: So there I was working on TH&TH and listening to Def Leppard when this song (see below) comes on and suddenly all the little things that had been rattling around my head as possible fixes to S2 started to solidify. I know - Def Leppard?! What can I say? I'm an 80's girl at heart. But read the lyrics and I think you'll see where I'm coming from. This takes place post the M/T kiss in Heart of Mine but - before the fruit heads my way - here's the Dreamer Insurance. Max and Liz belong together. Need I say more? Hope you enjoy this latest offering.
I heard this line one time 'bout tryin' to save the world
But have you ever tried to save yourself
A wide eyed suicide drive, remains a fake
As if you'd ever, ever go and make that same mistake
Strung out as the night comes crawlin'
You're halo of thorns is fallin'
Blood runs cold
I feel it in my bones
But you don't know you're time is up
Blood runs cold
Somebody somewhere is screaming out the words
But do they ever really ease the pain
I guess what I'm trying to say
Is, whose life is it anyway
Because livin', living is the best revenge you can play
This fall from grace
I see your face
It's over
From you love was kind
Resolved, left scarred and blind
Wasted and naked in the wings
Denying twist of fate Demanding Heaven's Gate
Lying in wait above the wind
- Def Leppard, Slang
************Prologue*************
------Pittsburgh, PA-----------------
She shoved her hair back behind her ear and smoothed the map out on the hood of the El Dorado. Now. Where the hell would he have gone? West. She knew that much, but considering that most of the continental United States was west of their position, the knowledge did her little good. She swore impatiently as the wind once again grabbed at the tendrils of her long hair, throwing it in her face and obscuring her view of the map. Grabbing the unruly mass in one hand, she searched through the pocket of her jacket for a clip with the other. Nothing. Figures. Sighing a tired surrender, she gave the thick tresses over to the wind. She really ought to get her hair cut, it was always getting in the way, but she just couldn’t bring herself to do it. Not yet.
“Can’t change what happened.”
Her eyes narrowed on her companion through a veil of hair. “Not tryin’ to change what happened.” She countered. They’d had this conversation before. Odd, the things they’d found to talk about now that there was nothing standing between them.
Ice blue eyes narrowed. Liar. She nodded at the brunette anyway, her blonde hair bobbing a little with the movement.
“Where?”
The blonde looked away, pretending absorption in the rocky, mountainous landscape spread out before them. She was used to the question. And the uncompromising tone of voice. And the butterflies that invariably thundered through her stomach. But the angry demand that suddenly laced the words surprised her a little. She swallowed and shrugged, hoping the other girl would simply let it go.
“Try again.”
Her blue eyes closed briefly on her frustration before she opened them again and met that dark, unbending gaze. It wasn’t supposed to go like this. “Look…”
“Where?” The brunette demanded, she was getting sick of this game.
Ice blue eyes studied the clear sky overhead. How the hell had she found herself in this position? She snorted inwardly. The question was useless. Because the answer was obvious. He was dead. And he was dead because she’d betrayed him. Her fear aside, she had done nothing to stop them. And now she was oddly compelled not to compound her betrayal by allowing the brunette in front of her to get herself killed. Which, consciously or not, she was desperately trying to do. Eyes the color of midnight met her own and she sighed in defeat. “Roswell.” She muttered. What the fuck was she thinking? She didn’t believe in atonement, once you did something, it was done. That’s all there was to it. And yet, somehow…
The brunette shook her head in disbelief. Roswell. Just what she needed. “You’re kidding.”
“I wish.”
Shrugging a little, the brunette folded the map and headed around to get behind the wheel of the Eldo. She watched the blonde slink around the back of the car, barely containing her impatience to be moving again. “Finally!” She muttered under her breath, pulling onto the highway, tires screeching angrily, as soon as the other girl was settled in the passenger seat. “Roswell, here we come.”
“Great.”
The brunette glanced to her right at the sarcasm and studied her reticent traveling companion. For the millionth time she wondered how the hell the two of them had gotten here. Oh, she could chart the events that led them to this place. But the reason…she’d yet to figure out the other girls motivation. Fuck it, she thought tiredly. There were more important things to worry about. Her motives were all that mattered at the moment. And hers were clear, simple and unwavering.
------Roswell, Sunrise, The morning after Prom 2001-------------------
Liz Parker stared at the almost blank page in her journal. How ironic, she thought bitterly, she’d finally turned to the safety and solace of its pages and all she could do was simply record the last thing she’d ever need to say. She shivered a little, feeling no desire to fill the rest of the page, even though she was almost desperate to escape the emptiness that lay beyond her two small, handwritten lines. In an effort to avoid the mockery of those words and the continued blankness of the rest of the page, she lifted her gaze to take in the dawn. The glare from the newly risen sun brought fresh tears to her eyes. Stop. Please?
It didn’t. Not that she’d really expected it to. The sun rose every day without asking permission or taking requests. She watched it continue along its course, a mercilessly optimistic giant banishing the shadows and shedding a light so bright that she had no choice but to view her folly with aching clarity. Yet her heart still remained darkly shrouded in its wake.
Things are always darkest before the dawn.
There was a time when she’d believed that saying to be optimistic. As if moving into the light was a balm to the soul, the natural cure to anything that ailed you. It wasn’t. And the time for innocent belief in simple truths was long past. What they invariably failed to tell you was that once dawn hit, there was nowhere for you to hide. No convenient shadows, no embracing darkness to hide your tears and wrap around your shoulders as you wept. Nothing. Daylight simply isolated you within the incomprehension of the rest of the world. Everyone was the same in the dark. But standing in the unbearably bright light you were alone. Just like she’d told him she would be. Only now she wasn’t, exactly.
She wondered if this would qualify as the supreme irony of her life. The one person she needed, she couldn’t have. The one person that couldn’t know, did. And in the sharing of her burden she’d isolated herself even more.
True love conquers all.
And another one bites the dust. Liz closed her eyes against the pain. She’d actually believed that. Held onto that truth, as a beacon of hope within the darkness that had enshrouded her soul for so long now. And even though the truth had been staring her in the face, she’d never really believed that it would end like this. Until it had.
Yet even still, they remained lashed by the same bonds that had always held them fast to each others’ sides. Perhaps that was the supreme irony of her life. They were still together. And more lost to each other than they ever had been before. Because instead of being bound by love, as they should have been, it was a deeper, soul shattering responsibility that held them together now.
The truth shall set you free.
She wanted to laugh, she really did, but she ended up swallowing the sob that ached to be released instead. Set her free? She was even more securely imprisoned than she had been yesterday. At least then she’d had some hope to keep her company. The memory of Max’s strong, rich voice telling her that he missed their friendship. The comfort of his warm hand refusing to ease its grip on her own as they returned to their room after dancing that night in Vegas. She supposed that there was some comfort in the knowledge that they were doing the right thing. Search as she might, she could find no trace of it. And no freedom.
I believe in you.
He still did. Even more, now. Just as she believed in him. Which left them nowhere to go, except forward down this path that did nothing more than trace the same suffocating circle. They were locked together in a prison of well intentioned conspiracy and secret responsibility. And they couldn’t even take comfort in being together. Because, while necessity required their cooperation it also demanded their separation. She’d thought she was suffocating before. It was almost worse now. Because he knew. Her heart ached with every beat. He knew and he was just as helpless to ignore what he had been called to do as she was. They were together in purpose now and they would prevail. Just as they always did when they worked together.
Liz was suddenly afraid that their quest for victory was merely the precursor to a slow death.
Wiping ineffectually at the tears flowing silently down her cheeks, Liz wondered why they’d ever come back to Roswell after Max escaped from the FBI. They should have kept running. She should have run away with him the first night he’d asked her to, when he was drunk. Or maybe she should have listened when he told her that they weren’t meant to be. She definitely should have disappeared when Future Max had. She no longer belonged in this time, with this future stretching out before her.
She should have died that day at the Crashdown.
Liz supposed that that was what everything boiled down to, in the end. Her death would have left Max free. And herself, as well. It would have saved her the trouble, and the pain, of tonight. She closed her eyes against the tears that slipped silently from her eyes, and still the words from her journal mocked her. Her shoulders shook under her sobs as she realized that they were perhaps the truest words she’d ever written, even though they were counter to everything she wanted to be and believe.
I’m Liz Parker and I died again, tonight. Only this time there was nothing Max Evans could do to save me. Even though he was standing right there.[/img]
Last edited by Pathos on Thu Nov 04, 2004 12:17 pm, edited 24 times in total.
The fact that we are fools is duly noted...
But must that be our epitaph?
-SRC
I'd be an idiot if I weren't less than pleased about being doomed.
The lights of the city twinkled brightly at her, shining easily through the dark stillness of the night. The view reminded her of every cinematic panorama of New York she’d ever seen. But more beautiful because she was standing on their roof. Or, more accurately, the ledge surrounding their roof. The one he was forever yanking her off of. If she closed her eyes she could almost feel his frustration at both her continued fascination with the sheer drop, and his own fear of it. He could usually stretch the silence for a good five minutes before he lost patience and reached for her, pulling her from her perch into the safety of his arms. The scene had played itself out so many times that she could almost hear his voice when he said…
“She’s right ya know. This aint gonna change a thing.”
Not that. She swallowed hard against the lump in her throat, refusing to open her eyes as his warm, rich voice washed over her. Reminding her of everything she’d lost. And everything she had yet to accomplish. “Sidin’ with the blonde aint makin’ you any friends.” She said lightly, though she suspected that he caught the sharp edge in her tone.
Hard amber eyes narrowed further when her own eyes remained stubbornly closed. As if he weren’t really there. “Gettin’ killed aint makin’ you any.” He muttered darkly, stepping up next to her on the ledge. His expression softened slightly when she opened her eyes and he saw the pain swimming in their midnight blue depths. Along with the tears she refused to shed. “Baby…”
She shook her head, noting the easy way he stood next to her. Something he’d never done in life. “You’re just a dream.” She whispered angrily, turning away when his lips curled into that trademark smirk. The one that never failed to send her blood rushing hotly through her veins.
He reached out and caught a tendril of her hair, watching as the curl twined around his finger. “I’m anythin’ you want me ta be.” He responded, voice low.
“No.” She said softly, trying to ignore the aching familiarity of his obsession with her hair. “No, you’re not.”
“Whateva.” He shrugged, smoothing the curl into place and getting back to the business at hand. “Like I was sayin’, you’re gonna stop this. Now.”
“No.”
“Listen to me…”
“No.”
“Baby…”
“Fuck you!” She bit out angrily. How could he be standing here? So vital and warm and so…gone?
“Love to.” He shot back.. “But…” He shrugged again, gesturing vaguely at his slowly evaporating form. “Now aint the time. You gotta listen ta me, now. You’re gonna stop this...”
She shook her head. “Who the hell do you think you are? You aint got a say in this. You left me here, alone! So you can just shove your fuckin’ orders!”
He shook his head, amber eyes pained as she faced him angrily, itching for a fight he couldn’t give her. “Serena, you’re killin’ me.” He whispered gently before stepping easily off the ledge.
“ZAN!” Serena jerked awake, her breath catching painfully in her throat as she struggled to focus on her surroundings. Zan wasn’t there. It was the same painful reality that struck her every time she awoke. Zan wasn’t there. And he never would be again. Instead, there was only Ava’s uncomfortably avid scrutiny. Trembling a little, Serena reached for her bottle of water, chugging a good amount before she felt ready to face the questions she read in the other girls china blue eyes. “What?” she demanded tiredly.
“You ok?” Ava asked, trying to bring her own heartbeat under control. It was one thing to hear Serena scream out in the confines of a motel room but the shout from the backseat of the El Dorado had about given her a heart attack..
“Fine.” Serena replied shortly.
“Right. You eva plannin’ on gettin’ a full nights sleep?”
“When this is all ova.”
Ava met Serena’s hard, determined gaze in the mirror. She’d always hated those eyes, she mused. Even before she’d met Serena she’d hated that color blue. “Zan’s dead, Serena. Aint it already ova?” She asked coldly.
“You wanna bounce? There’s a rest stop in a mile and a half. Get out there.” Serena challenged, nodding back at the sign they’d just passed and ignoring the brief ripple of pain that shot through her body at Ava’s blunt assessment.
Ava shook her head, wondering briefly why it hurt Serena more to hear that Zan was dead than it did for her to say it. “Neva said that.” She said quietly, falling back into their truce. It really was better not to mention him at all.
Serena nodded tiredly. “You need me ta drive yet?” She took a deep breath as Ava shook her head. “Then watch the fuckin’ road and quit tryin’ to get in my head.” She ordered softly, her gentle tone lessening the sting of the words somewhat.
Ava swallowed the ‘fuck you’ that rose to her lips with some difficulty. Pissing Serena off more wasn’t gonna do anybody any good. Course, neither was letting her follow through on this half assed plan of hers. She only hoped Liz had a better idea of what to do with her. Because everything she’d tried, had failed. They were still headed to Roswell. Serena was still bound and determined to get herself killed. And Ava still had the uncomfortable feeling she’d be unable to avoid a front row seat.
**************Part 2*****************
---------Roswell, Sunrise, The morning after Prom, 2001--------------
Max Evans stared at the metal rung of the ladder. His hand hovered briefly, uncertainly in mid air before falling back to his side. He could hear Liz, softly weeping through the stillness of the dawn. Or maybe he could feel it in the stark numbness of his own soul. He opened his mouth, intending to call out to her as he hadn’t been able to bring himself to do in almost a year. But his voice caught in his throat. She didn’t want him here. His eyes closed against the truth that they’d danced around the entire night. He didn’t belong here. With her. He swallowed hard. The last ten hours had taught him so much. So much more than he ever wanted to know. So much that he wished he’d never heard. But the one implacable truth that was sure to haunt him for the rest of his life was that his wishes had no place in the grand scheme of a fickle universe.
Too much was at stake for fate to give one blessed damn about the wishes of one person.
Even if that person were a King who was now balancing the responsibility for two planets haphazardly in his hands. Max closed his eyes against the rising sun, unable to stop himself from making one final wish. But, no. The sun continued its steady advance across the sky. He nodded a little, knowing that Liz was watching the same sure movements he was. With the same soul wrenching despair. The dark night of their soul was over. Alien epiphany aside, he suddenly wished it had never begun.
In the absence of love, beauty must needs suffice.
Max felt a surge of excitement sweep through him along with the revelation, almost eclipsing the pain that had taken up residence after Liz’s declaration. It was so clear. Stronger even than his memories of Tess. The words whispered their way through his brain with a feeling of hard won understanding. And the intensity of lessons long since learned. They’d never felt like this, the memories…impressions, whatever they were, they’d never been this clear. This electrifying. They’d never resonated through his soul the way that one phrase did.
In the absence of love, beauty must needs suffice.
Max realized quite suddenly that the words had been hovering at the edge of his consciousness since he’d begun the memory retrieval with Tess. He wondered vaguely why they were so much more clear than the memories he’d found with her. But the brief thought was trampled by the knowledge that he’d…well, his former self…Zahn…whoever the hell he was! He’d been wrong. Or rather, he’d been shortsighted. Because beauty was no substitute for love.
He had to tell Liz.
Max pulled away from Tess gently, feeling the softness of her lips leaving his own with a certain amount of relief. And then he opened his eyes to the hope that flared helplessly in her cerulean eyes. He swallowed hard, lowering his gaze to study the floor in front of them as he cleared his throat. “We should, uh…”
“Max, you said it yourself.” Tess said softly, reaching out to rest her hand on his forearm.
Max cringed a little at the gentle uncertainty of her touch. And the vulnerability he heard in her voice. ‘I think it’s really over.’ He had said that, though he’d never intended to hurt her with it. Tess certainly didn’t deserve that after the way she’d simply been there for him over the last few months, offering her support without any pressure. He raised his eyes to hers, giving a brief smile as he nodded. “I know.” He sighed inwardly as her own smile widened. He’d never intended to get her thinking about their ‘destiny’ again. Taking a deep breath he stood up. All his intentions for the night had flown to hell anyway, he’d have to deal with this later. After he talked to Liz. After he explained… “I know, I know what I said. I just…it’ll look bad if we don’t, you know, if we don’t get back out there.”
Tess dropped her eyes even as she stood and nodded her understanding. “Right. Kyle’s probably looking for me.” She said, gesturing vaguely at the doors to the gym.
“Right.” Max had never been so relieved to join a crowd of people in his life. He quickly lost Tess to Kyle’s antics and the fun they always seemed to have in each others company, and went in search of Liz. His brows furrowed when he was unable to find her. An odd surge of panic sent the blood rushing through his ears while his worried gaze finally settled on Maria. Striding forward, Max reached out and caught her shoulder. “Hey.” He said, nodding a greeting at Michael. “Where’s Liz?” He asked Maria, his eyes still scanning the room in the hopes of catching sight of her himself.
Maria stopped dancing and whirled to glare at Max, her eyes narrowing even further when she saw that he wasn’t paying any attention to her. “As if you care!”
“Maria…” Max focused on Maria, blinking a little at the venom he heard in her voice.
“Go back and find Tess if you want to shove your tongue down someone’s throat. Liz left!”
“What?” Max’s astonishment that Liz had left without saying goodbye gave way to an almost choking apprehension as the rest of what Maria said permeated his brain. “Wait, she saw…?”
“That’s right, buddy. She saw.”
No, no, no! Max tuned out the rest of Maria’s diatribe while his brain sought frantically to figure out where Liz had gone. “Maria, where…” Not even a breath. Barely reining in his sudden frustration, Max reached out and grabbed Maria’s upper arms, ignoring both Michael’s sharp exclamation of ‘Maxwell!’ and Maria’s outraged gasp. “It’s not what you think.” He ground out. “Where did she go?”
Maria studied Max through narrowed eyes. There was a desperation in his eyes that she hadn’t seen in months. She wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing, but at the very least it might force those two to clear the air. “She said she was going home.” Maria said softly.
Max nodded, his apprehension letting up slightly now that he knew where to find her. He threw a harried ‘thank you’ over his shoulder and headed for the jeep. He raced from the parking lot, grateful that he was ahead of the rush to get to the after Prom parties. He had to find her. Tonight. Now. This second. It couldn’t wait til morning. The urge to find her, to explain, to make her understand…in that moment it was as immediate as his need to breathe. Almost as if a stopwatch were ticking off the finite number of seconds he had left to win this odd battle of wills that they’d been fighting for the last year.
He was so intent on getting to the Crashdown as quickly as possible that Max almost missed the small figure hunched over under the streetlight, taking off her high heeled shoes.
Liz’s head jerked up in surprise at the loud squeal of brakes. She knew somehow, before she even saw the jeep, that it was Max. She blinked a little and watched as he swung the vehicle in a tight U-turn, obviously intent on catching up with her. No. Not tonight. She just couldn’t do this tonight. With all the desperation of a cornered animal, Liz looked for an escape route. Glancing to her left she made the quick decision to take the old short cut behind the school.
“Liz!” Max saw her freeze and he knew that she was debating whether or not to run. He yanked the jeep over to the side of the road and threw it into park, sliding from the drivers seat almost before the vehicle was stopped. “Liz, wait!”
“What are you doing here, Max?”
Max ignored the defeat he heard in her voice and the pain that ripped through his brain as a question he’d fantasized about her asking again, took on an entirely different connotation. Glancing around for an answer, he was momentarily thrown to find himself on the elementary school playground. He shook his head to clear it of the image of the innocent little girl with the long, dark hair. He focused instead on the young woman standing before him. A vagrant Cinderella, fleeing the ball. “This is where my date is. I didn’t think I danced that badly, Liz.” He replied lightly, offering the joke in place of a thousand other things he wanted to say.
Liz shook her head. She couldn’t do this. They’d gone their separate ways. And he’d been fine with that just a few minutes ago, she thought bitterly, the picture of Max kissing Tess playing out behind her eyes and making her feel vaguely ill. “I’ve gotta go.” She muttered, turning to continue across the playground.
“No! Liz, wait. I need to talk to you.”
“No. No you don’t, Max. We’ve said everything that…” She broke off on a gasp when Max grabbed her arm and pulled her around to face him with none of the gentleness she’d come to expect from him. “Max, stop it. I’ve got to go…”
“No. Please, Liz just give me a few minutes. Just…just talk to me.” Max stared at her bowed head wondering how in the hell it had gotten so difficult for the two of them to do something as simple as speak to each other.
Liz shook her head, refusing to meet his gaze and refusing to acknowledge the desperation she could hear so clearly in his voice. “About what?” She whispered gently. “Max, please just let me go.”
Let her go? Max stared at her bowed head, frustrated at her stubborn refusal to look at him. Let her go? He couldn’t. He had to explain…he wouldn’t, damn it! Maybe it was his pouty inner king but he wasn’t letting go of her until he got some real answers. And if he had his way, not even after that. “No.” He whispered fiercely, satisfied when she finally raised her eyes to his in order to gape at him. He held her gaze firmly with his own. “No.”
The fact that we are fools is duly noted...
But must that be our epitaph?
-SRC
I'd be an idiot if I weren't less than pleased about being doomed.
Liz stared at Max’s determined features in mute surprise. He sounded so sure suddenly, as he hadn’t been since the night he’d announced that he was coming for her. And as desperate as the night he’d grabbed her from behind in Copper Summit and demanded the truth. “Excuse me?” Liz asked, crushing a bittersweet rush of hope under the force of surging indignation. He couldn’t be serious, she reminded herself, not after everything that had happened tonight. It was too late. Shaking her head, Liz silently damned herself for not heeding her original inclination and fleeing the first instant she’d heard the jeep.
Max studied Liz calmly, breathing more easily now that she was looking at him. “I said ‘no’.” He repeated, watching in silence as Liz’s reaction played out across her face. For a brief instant she looked hopeful. Vulnerable. As she had that night in Vegas when he’d been almost sure that they were moving towards the truth, and each other. But then her temper flared, raging against his disregard for her wishes. And an instant later he saw the same suffocating pain that had shone so clearly in her eyes during their brief dance earlier. With all the faithfulness of Benedict Arnold, Max’s conscience roared to life, reminding him that it was he who’d hurt her to begin with. And it was he who’d just reopened the wound. Swallowing hard, Max fought the urge to back down, to offer an apology and allow things to stand as they were. He couldn’t live with that anymore. And, if the brief flash of hope he’d just seen were any indication, neither could Liz. “Liz, please. We need to…”
“What do you want from me, Max?” Liz interrupted, lowering her gaze as if there were nothing in the world more interesting than the sand pooled in the grass around the sandbox. As if she hadn’t noticed the oddly gentle determination that had suddenly softened the harshness of Max’s deep voice. With studied determination Liz ignored the subtle gentling of Max’s fingers around her arm, focusing instead on the tiny granules of sand that fanned out onto the asphalt under the swings. “What do you want?” She asked again, taking a step back and ignoring the tingling across her skin as Max’s warm fingers slid from her arm.
Max’s eyes narrowed when Liz returned to her stubborn perusal of the ground. Ignoring her vain attempt to make him go away simply by wishing it, he answered. “I want to talk to you. I need to talk to you. It’s what I’ve wanted to do all night.”
“Well, not all night.” Liz said pointedly, raising her eyes to take in Max’s pained reaction. She refused to feel sorry for him. He was the one standing there demanding cards on the table and she was suddenly too tired to let this game between them play out any further. “I saw you with Tess.” She said quietly, lifting her chin a little and hoping the small quiver in her voice had only been her imagination. She sighed around the lump in her throat and returned to her original question “Why are you here?”
Why aren’t you with her? Max heard the words even more clearly than if Liz had spoken them aloud. “This is where I’m supposed to be.” He answered helplessly. It was the truth, but he saw from the bitterness twisting her features that it wasn’t enough. “Liz, Tess is just a friend…”
He didn’t just say that. Liz’s eyebrows almost hit her hairline in an exaggerated expression of disbelief. A friend? Did he think she was stupid? Blind? “A friend? Really? See, because, um, I’ve never seen you kiss any of your other friends like that!” Liz burst out. “Or do you and Michael have something you want to share with the group?” she asked sarcastically, crossing her arms over her chest. Quite suddenly she was spoiling for a fight.
Max shook his head miserably. Now that she was standing there, waiting for his explanation, he was suddenly unsure of what to say. “No. Liz, look, I…it’s not what you think.”
“Oh. So you weren’t kissing Tess?”
“No. Yes…but it’s not like…” Unable to adequately explain it to himself, Max was hard pressed to come up with an explanation that Liz would accept.
“Not like what? Not like your destiny, Max.” Liz whispered harshly, the word sounding like a death knell in her own ears. She saw her words strike home in the pained shadow that briefly hardened Max’s features, but Liz refused to be taken in. You’re obviously ok with it, she thought at him bitterly. “It’s your destiny.” Liz repeated firmly, as much for her benefit as for his.
“No. It’s not.” Max ground out in frustration, adding this conversation to his list of things that had gone completely wrong with this night. “I, it just….” He groped through his vocabulary for the right words but came up empty. “It just…happened.” He finished lamely
“It always ‘just happens’ with you two Max!” Liz cried out angrily. “What does that mean, it ‘just happened’?!” She bit her lip to keep herself from screaming at the unfairness of the twisted set of circumstances that had come to rule her life. Concentrating fiercely on her breathing, Liz fought to get a hold of herself. This is why she didn’t want to do this tonight, she simply couldn’t. She needed time. Time to accept everything that had just happened. Time to sit in her room alone, and cry her heart out until it didn’t hurt so much. Time to come to grips with the fact that her plan had…worked. “Just happened!” Liz muttered, her gaze sliding angrily away from Max as she stubbornly refused to be taken in by the lost expression on his face. “Was it a mindwarp?” She challenged, when he did nothing more than remain silent. “Well?”
“No.” Max answered softly, feeling the shock of pain that briefly shadowed Liz’s features, touch on his own soul. Without thinking he reached for her, wanting to ease some of her hurt. But she stepped farther away, tears in her eyes. He dropped his hand, wishing he could drown in the sudden guilt that was choking him. Even now, after everything, he still hated to see her tears. The cowardly part of himself wanted to take the words back, to comfort her with a lie that they could both accept. But as much as he might wish to take the easy way out…that kiss hadn’t been a mindwarp. Of course, it hadn’t fulfilled the promise of his destiny, either. “It was a mistake, Liz. It didn’t mean anything.” Max said softly. He wanted to kiss her, to pour the truth of his words into her consciousness, to make her see…but this conversation was already putting her under more pressure than he’d intended. And the last time she’d felt cornered by his feelings she’d gone to Kyle. Max swallowed hard, inhaling a harsh breath as his gut twisted with the image of them in bed. It was his own fault, he reminded himself. He should have given her the space she’d asked for, he should have had more patience. This time he wanted to show her that he was sincere without pushing her into something. Not that kissing Tess had been the best move in that regard, he acknowledged ruefully. It was just that the idea of taking Liz to the Prom had held such promise…and then they’d walked through the gym doors and his whole plan had been shot to hell. And Tess had been there for him…again. “It didn’t mean anything.”
Liz shook her head, willing herself to ignore the desperate sincerity so evident in Max’s soulful amber eyes. And the pain, her insidious conscience reminded her, don’t forget the pain. The pain that had shadowed his eyes ever since that night, always lurking just right below the surface. Right next to the yearning. And the promise she’d been clinging to for…too long, now. It was over, she reminded herself. He’d kissed Tess. Again. It didn’t mean anything. Closing her eyes briefly, Liz faced the truth. She wanted to believe him. She wanted to ignore the future, ignore his destiny and her responsibility. And she hated herself for it. What was wrong with her that she continued to forget how they’d come to this point to begin with?
You’re not allowing yourself to change.
Words from a man who didn’t belong in her time. Or with her. Liz could almost hate him for showing up at all. Except she could never hate Max. And, in all fairness…she wasn’t allowing herself to change. Even with all the mounting evidence she’d still allowed herself the luxury of hope. But not anymore. It may have taken the other Max 14 years to come to the conclusion that he belonged with Tess but in the end…he had. And if she continued to live like this, in the end, she’d be the one torn apart. Not that she hadn’t been already, Liz acknowledged bitterly. And she was sick of it! Sick of hurting, sick of crying. Sick of the emotional roller coaster she’d been clinging to and so completely sick of feeling out of control. This needed to be over.
As much as it would hurt to end it, Liz suddenly realized that it was hurting her ten times worse to hang on. It was time to do what Max’s future incarnation had demanded she do. It was time to let go. Steeling herself for the pain, Liz took refuge in the irrational anger which came with the knowledge that, once again, she had to he the strong one. “It did mean something, Max.” Liz contradicted tightly, a cold kind of finality clear in her voice. “There’s a reason it keeps happening. There’s a reason you’re drawn to…her.”
The last word was barely a whisper along the edge of the breeze that played gently through the loose tendrils of Liz’s hair. But Max heard it. Along with the pained sincerity which lay under the brittle calm of that one sentence. Max shook his head, refusing to acknowledge it. Because that would mean defeat. And fool that he was, he wasn’t willing to give up yet. “It was a mistake, Liz.” He repeated stubbornly. “As much of a mistake as you thinking that we should stop.”
“It wasn’t a mistake, Max. You were kissing her. It was her you wanted, not…not…” Liz was almost grateful when Max interrupted.
Max shook his head, he could feel her retreating, pulling even farther away from him. “That’s not true! It’s you that I want Liz. It’s always been you. You and me, we’re…”
Liz fought against angry tears. Why did he insist on doing this to her? Why did he still have the power to make her want to believe him? He’d told her all this before, convinced her it was true…right before he kissed Tess the first time. “Then why were you kissing her?” Liz demanded. The anger and frustration, held in check for so many months, was released in a torrent that swept both of them up and offered him no safe harbor. “Come on, Max! Why were you kissing her?”
Max blinked. Liz’s sudden, furious attack left him fumbling for an answer. “I don’t know.” He answered. And as ridiculous as that may be, he didn’t. Was it simply that she was…constant, supportive when no one else was? Or maybe because she was concerned. Even when Liz turned her back. “I really don’t.” Max averred, shrugging helplessly and knowing immediately from the way Liz’s eyes flashed that it was the wrong thing to do but…he didn’t have an answer. He honestly couldn’t explain what had prompted the kiss, only that he knew he wouldn’t be rejected.
“Yes. You do.” Liz replied, her throat closing around the word. Destiny. He had one. And she wasn’t part of it. If this night had taught her nothing else, it had taught her that. “Just say it, Max. Admit it!” Liz cried, needing suddenly to hear him say it.
“Liz, I, I don’t know what you want to hear…”
“I want the truth, Max. Tell me why!” Liz demanded, completely unaware of how completely she’d echoed his own demand for an explanation.
Max stared, forcing himself to ignore the sudden urge to shake her. His gut twisted with the realization that this conversation, not to mention his temper, was slipping quickly out of his control. “Liz, just calm down and…”
“Calm down?” Liz asked in disbelief. “Tell me, Max. Just say it! What’s so difficult about the truth?”
“You tell me!” Max roared, his temper finally slipping it’s tight leash. She wanted the truth. He might have found it funny, were he not too busy fuming. After all the lies she’d told, after…everything, she wanted the truth.
Liz gasped, finding the sudden realization that Max’s temper matched her own somewhat overwhelming. “Max…”
“You want the truth?” Max demanded, leaning slightly forward at Liz’s stiff nod. “She was there.”
“What?” What the hell was he talking about? Was he just looking for someone convenient to…to… Liz stared at Max as if she’d never seen him. “What kind of excuse is that, Max? ‘She was there’?” She asked, disgusted.
“It’s the truth. She’s always been there!” Max heard Liz’s gasp and he saw her recoil when she caught the full extent of his meaning, but the momentum of his anger carried his concern beyond reach. “The rest of you act as if I asked for this, like I’m enjoying it or something. At least she takes the time to listen to me.”
Liz snorted, Tess took the time, all right. And anything else she could get her hands on since she came to Roswell. “She’d take whatever you let her!” she bit out.
Max ignored the taunt. “She’s never run away from me!” he shouted, almost surprised to recognize the grain of truth in his hastily constructed argument.
Liz exhaled harshly, Max’s words striking her as if they were a physical blow. They doused her anger, leaving her wrung out and suddenly exhausted. She couldn’t take this any more. She didn’t even know why they were fighting. His own rationale made it clear that there was nothing left to argue about. They needed to let this go. “Max, this doesn’t change anything. We have to stop. Please, for both of us we…please, just stop.”
The hollow brittleness of Liz’s voice brought Max back to himself as nothing else could. “I can’t.” He whispered back, furious with himself for the sudden collapse of his temper. He was lost to the soul rending pain blurring the beauty of her eyes, unable to resist the need to soothe her tears. Sighing heavily, Max gently wrapped his fingers around her wrist, needing to touch her, to pull her towards him. Liz didn’t step forward, but she didn’t pull away, either. The impossible hope that she’d allow him to comfort her…
-FLASH-
You’re not allowing yourself to change!
Please, go to someone else. I, I just…I can’t do this anymore…
Max blinked, his hand falling to his side while his own voice echoed through his mind. Along with Liz’s heartbroken plea. “What was that?”
“What?” Liz asked warily, glancing around the playground to see what had caught his attention.
“That…me…that wasn’t me…what did he make you do?” Max’s confused eyes narrowed as Liz’s expression became distant. And guarded. “What happened?”
“I don’t know what you mean.”
Liar. The word hissed through his brain as he stared down into the shadowed depths of her chocolate brown eyes, noting the forced casualness of her expression. And the shadows that lay just underneath. It was the same expression she’d worn every time he’d asked her about Kyle. The same expression she wore every time she claimed to feel nothing, every time she looked him in the eye and lied. “Yes, Liz.” Max contradicted coldly. “You do.”
Max’s sudden coldness sparked Liz’s temper briefly back to life and she felt her resolve strengthen. “No. I don’t.” she said firmly. It was time. She needed to do what she should have done in the first place, let him go completely. The notion that they could be friends after they’d been…everything to each other was laughable, as she now understood. She opened her mouth, willing herself to find the words that would free both of them and instead found herself backing up as Max steadily advanced on her, his eyes hard and completely at odds with the casual grace of his stride.
Max watched Liz retreat, one step back for each one of his forward, maintaining the distance between them. With her just out of his reach. He stopped only when he realized the ridiculousness of stalking her across the playground. “Why won’t you tell me what happened?” Max asked, his voice intentionally hard.
Liz shook her head. That, she still couldn’t explain. “Max, I…I’m sorry. There’s nothing else I can say.” It was the truth, at least and cold comfort, considering the disgust that swept Max’s features.
“Nothing you can say…” Max repeated. He stared at Liz, noting the way she was still leaning as far away from him as possible, still keeping herself completely out of reach. She needn’t have bothered, he thought with bitter anguish.. He could see the distance in her eyes. Liz Parker may as well have been on the moon. “What happened to us?” he asked helplessly. That, at least, she had to give him. Didn’t she? Finally, wouldn’t she at least give him the truth? “What did I do, before tonight, to make you…” He gestured vaguely at the gulf standing between them.
Even knowing the danger, Liz wasn’t proof against the utterly lost expression on Max’s face, or the confused pain in his voice. “Nothing, Max. It wasn’t you. It…it was me.” She offered hesitantly, cringing at the Melrose Place-like idiocy of the response. But she could hardly tell him that it hadn’t been him, but rather a future version of him who…
Right! Max snorted gracelessly. “It’s not me, but suddenly you won’t talk to me. You can’t be around me. You can’t tell me the truth!” He finished, biting back against the pain and finding comfort in his anger at her continued prevarication.
“Look, it’s me, I just, I…” Liz rushed to get the words out. This conversation couldn’t go on much longer, not if she wanted to remain sane.
“You want to date normal boys. Right, you mentioned that.” Max finished with cruel casualness.
Liz bit her lip, nodding an assent to his observation. She needed to be strong, but she couldn’t quite make herself give voice to the lie again.
“What changed?” Max asked, growing more frustrated as her continued silence was his only answer. “Liz…what did I do?” He cursed himself for asking the question again, even as it left his mouth, hated himself for the plea even he heard in his voice. And still she remained silent. “Tell me!” Max snapped, having asked the question he now needed to know the answer
Liz shook her head. Her anger had been replaced with guilt and without the heat of her temper to insulate her from Max’s clear desperation, and no Future Max whispering prophecies of destruction in her ear, she was perilously close to giving in and telling him the truth. “I can’t.” she whispered, her eyes begging his understanding.
“You won’t.” Max corrected bitterly, ignoring the tearful thickness of her voice and the pleading look in her eyes.
“Max…” Liz shook her head. She had no idea what to say, no idea how to make him understand and still do the right thing.
You’re not allowing yourself to change!
It’s you I trust, it’s you I have faith in…
I am telling you what happened and we have to change that. We have to.
25 minutes before I came here, I held Michael in my arms…dead. Isabel died two weeks before that. Now, you have to do this! You have to find a way. All of our lives depend on it.
You have to do something…before it’s too late….
Liz trembled as Future Max’s words whispered his cold desperation from the grave, speaking of dire consequences for her thoughts of weakness.
I haven’t slept since I saw you with Kyle.
What I saw can’t be true because it means everything I felt in my heart for the last year is a lie! Now you owe me an explanation and I want it right now!
Did you…sleep with Kyle?
And…I’d like to start again…our friendship, that is. I mean…I miss it.
What changed?
Tell me!
I believe in you…
And then there was Max. Her Max. Liz could almost feel her soul breaking under the weight of the tears she wanted to shed, but couldn’t. She wanted so much to believe that he would still believe in her after this, but… God! Why wouldn’t he just go? Why couldn’t she?
“I just want to know.” Max continued, sensing her relenting as indecision played out across her face. “I just, I don’t understand.” He needed her to say it, suddenly. Maybe if she said it he’d finally get it through his damn thick skull. She wanted normal boys – oh, right. She had said it. Evidently once wasn’t enough, he realized bitterly.
“Max…” Liz had no idea what she was going to say but the need for words was lost when Max reached out and gripped her upper arms, pulling her towards him and capturing her gaze with his own. She hadn’t even seen him move, but Liz knew the instant that Max saw, the instant that he knew everything. She saw it in the confused widening of his eyes and the almost painful, convulsive tightening of his grip on her arms. “Max…” He stared, but Liz knew that he wasn’t seeing her. His vision was consumed by whatever was flashing behind his eyes. “Max, you’re hurting me!”
Max blinked Liz back into focus, dropping his hands to his sides as if he’d been burned. “I’m sorry…” He forced out vaguely. “I didn’t mean…what was that?”
“What?”
“You know what!” Max exclaimed, exhaling sharply against the tightness in his chest. “Me…not me! Long hair, leather…what did he make you…I make…what…”
“Let it go.” Liz pleaded weakly, rubbing her arms. She was almost desperate for some warmth to ward off the sudden chill, desperate to soothe the harsh imprint of his fingers on her skin.
“No!” Max’s brow furrowed as he concentrated on the flashes, desperate to arrange them in some sort of order that would make sense, something that would give him the answers he sought. But there were only questions. “Nothing came between us until the end of the world? What was that?”
“I don’t…”
“Damn it, stop lying to me! For once, just stop lying and tell me what the hell you did!” Max demanded furiously. Her betrayal he could have lived with, had lived with and maybe even accepted…sort of. But her continued lying…the loss of the honest connection that had always been at the heart of them, was killing him.
Liz gaped, utterly outraged. What she’d done? All reason and good intentions evaporated with the force of his accusation and Liz felt her temper flare. Her renewed ire was so intense that it overwhelmed the guilt she’d been feeling only moments ago. What she’d done? He had no idea what she’d done, what she’d been forced to do. For him. By him! He had no idea how it was destroying her. The sudden gusty force of her anger blew her past any rationalization about why that was necessary. “You really want to know?” Liz asked, her voice dangerously soft. If he was so interested in knowing, she was suddenly more than eager to tell him.
“Yes.” Max snapped out, his own anger blinding him to the clear warning in her eyes.
“You, Max. You happened.” Liz forced a deep breath into her lungs as the volatile mix of guilt and frustration, long focused on the ill defined but certainly malevolent being that had taken such pains to ruin her life, found purchase suddenly in the target standing before her. Martyrdom was lonely and she was suddenly sick of the isolation. “The night you sang to me, you weren’t the only one who showed up. The long hair and leather? That was you. You from 14 years in the future.”
Max shook his head, searching her flushed face for the lie that had to be hiding just behind her words. But her eyes were clear and he couldn’t seem to see past her anger. Which only added fuel to his own burning temper. “What are you talking about?” He bit out in confusion. “That makes…”
“You wanted the truth, Max. This is it.” Liz shot back, her voice easily rising over anything else he wished to say. “This future version of you showed up on my balcony and told me that in 14 years the world got overtaken by your enemies. He said that the only way to stop that from happening, the only way to stop the world from ending, was to keep us from getting back together.”
[Nothing comes between us ever again…un-until the end of the world. Max forced the echo from his brain, refusing to acknowledge the shiver that raced down his spine. Like someone had walked over his grave, his mother would say. “No, Liz. This is crazy! Listen…”
“No! You need to listen. You’re the one who’s been so eager to hear this so just…just don’t say anything and let me tell you…”
“Forget it..” Max replied flatly. “I know how that conversation ends.” I want to be in love with boys…normal boys…
“It has to end that way, Max. Your future self told me it has to!” Liz shouted, the words almost tumbling one over the other in her sudden race to get her explanation out. She wasn’t eve sure what she was going to say, but she couldn’t have stopped herself now if she wanted to. “The night that I went over to your house and, and said those things…he told me I had to. You said I had to make you stop loving me. You made me…”
“Liz! Listen to yourself. This is insane. Why would I ever tell you to make me, myself…how could I ever want you to make me…” Max stuttered to a furious halt, he had no idea how to even phrase the question considering this extra version of himself that had suddenly joined the conversation. “What reason could there possibly have been to justify something that…insane?” He finally snapped out.
“What isn’t insane about my life?” Liz shot back. “I didn’t ask for you to trust me or have faith in me…”
“What reason!” Max demanded, focusing on the question she’d refused to answer.
“Tess couldn’t handle us getting back together….”
“When did we get back together? And what the hell does Tess have to do with us?”
“Everything! Just like she always has! In the other timeline we got together but she couldn’t handle the way you treated her, so she left. And without her, your…unit…wasn’t strong enough to fight your enemies once they invaded. The only way to stop that was to make sure that you turned to Tess. You had to fall out of love with me and…”
Max shook his head, he wouldn’t have thought it possible but Liz’s explanation was leaving him more angry and confused than her actions had. “It wasn’t me, Liz” He stated.
Liz stared, her eyes wide and her entire being still in the wake of his assessment. “Not you?” she whispered, a harsh laugh grating from her throat. “Not you?! Do you think anyone else could have convinced me to say those things to you? To, to go to Kyle and…”
“I guarantee you I’d never try to convince you to do that!” Max interrupted sharply.
“You sure as hell didn’t try to stop me!” Liz shouted. “You had no problem letting me do any of it. You just sat there and let me break my own heart. And then you left me!” she accused.
“You broke my heart too!” Max flung back furiously. “And I’m right here!”
Liz blinked. She wasn’t sure what she’d expected but the indignant anger flashing in his eyes wasn’t it. “I know you’re here…I’m talking about the future you.”
Max nodded sardonically. “Right. The future me. Let me see if I’ve got this right…I came back in time to make you, make me, fall out of love with you.”
Liz nodded stiffly, her eyes narrowed as she tried to figure out where he was headed with this. She glanced around the playground uneasily, instinctively distrusting his sudden reasonableness.
“Well then he sustained brain damage at some point in the future because I know that’s not possible!” Max shouted. And the sad truth was, that it wasn’t possible. Even after he’d looked in that window and seen her with Kyle…hating her hadn’t been an option. As angry as he’d been, he’d found a way to hate himself, instead. It had to be his fault after all, because of the pressure he’d placed on her. He wanted to laugh suddenly. He hadn’t really been wrong. According to her, it was his fault.
Liz shook her head, her brows drawn together in sudden confusion. “Not possible? It happened. You, he disappeared after you turned to Tess. After you fell out…”
Max snorted. “Tess offered a shoulder, she didn’t change the way I felt about you.” He snapped out bitterly. He watched with distant curiosity as Liz’s confusion and an odd fear played out across her features. “What? Oh, wait, lemme guess…the world’s gonna end now that the truth is out, right? What happens now? How are you going to destroy me this time?” He asked with biting inquisitiveness.
Liz stared, unable to completely control the furious tears that filled her eyes at his callousness. “You think I enjoyed this?” she choked out, her fingers wiping the tears quickly from her cheeks. “You think this has been fun for me, watching you? With her. You think somehow I’m ok with the fact that you see your destiny looking better and better every day? You think these last few months have been easy? You want to hear how much it hurts, is that it? You want to know how miserable I’ve been? I can tell you about every single time it hurt to breathe, every moment I hated myself because of the way you looked at me…you want to hear about how it hurts to get out of bed in the morning and how sleep isn’t any better because all I do is see that look on your face! Do want to know how much I hurt, Max?! Because I can tell you!”
“So can I!” Max shouted. “Do you honestly think this has ended for me? That I just climbed off your balcony and forgot everything we were? Or that I forgot after you lied to me for the umpteenth time? Or maybe after I tried to walk away? You think I don’t wake up and hope that this whole thing was just some nightmare? Do you think this has ever really been over for me?!”
“You have Tess.” Liz spat out.
Max laughed. He knew there wasn’t one damn thing funny about it, but he couldn’t seem to help himself. “Nice. We get back together and the world ends but I do what you want and you hate me. So either way, I’m the asshole.” He shook his head, unable to stop the images spinning through his mind. Odd, disjointed images of himself, only not himself. Liz, weeping and desperate. And Kyle…laughing.
Liz shook her head, her anger thwarted by the bitter pain that echoed through the harshness of his laughter. He laughed so rarely that it seemed shameful to waste it. “Max…”
“How convenient for you.” Max finished softly, as if she hadn’t interrupted him. His anger was quickly becoming a thing of the past and somehow he was back to the burning pain of her earlier dismissal. Which may well be what she wanted, he acknowledged, he simply couldn’t be certain anymore. Because it had finally begun to sink in that she’d done it on purpose. She’d hurt him in ways the FBI would never be able to think of. And she’d done it on purpose.
Liz felt fresh tears. He thought this was convenient? “Do you think it’s convenient, crying myself to sleep? Or convenient to pray for someone to miraculously fix my life while I’m sleep, only to wake up in the morning and find that everything’s still the same?” she whispered hoarsely, her anger lost in the pain that had been threatening to drown her for months. And with her own pain so immediate, she was unable to ignore the sudden agony, so clear in Max’s dull, flat gaze. “I didn’t want…” Liz fell silent as echoes of her own explanation rang in her ears. She hadn’t wanted it to come out like that, hadn’t wanted to hurt him…exactly. “Max….” His complete and utter stillness simply accentuated her sudden understanding of what she’d done, and her heart plummeted even further. True, she’d been tired of carrying this burden alone, but somehow, without even meaning to, she’d shifted the blame and the responsibility completely onto Max’s shoulders. She’d used her understanding of him to cut the very heart of who he was. Again. And staring at the confused, searing pain, so suddenly apparent in his eyes, she finally understood that he wasn’t the Max she was furious with. “God, Max I didn’t mean…I never wanted to hurt you.”
“Coulda fooled me.” Max said tonelessly. “Oh, wait. That’s what you were trying to do.”
“Max, no! I, I hated myself after…” Liz explained desperately. She was suddenly terrified that telling Max the truth had accomplished what her machinations with his future self hadn’t. And momentary resolve aside, she could never truly wish him entirely from her life
“After you slept with Kyle.” Max finished with brittle bluntness when Liz couldn’t seem to bring herself to do it. He shook his head. “Don’t. Don’t bother.”
“I didn’t have a choice.” Liz whispered, stepping forward and hesitantly reaching for Max’s arm. If he would just give her a chance to…really explain… She bit her lip when he stepped back, placing himself out of her reach. Her throat constricted painfully and she couldn’t still the trembling in her heart as he stared at her. He’d never looked at her like that before, as if he didn’t know who she was. As if he suddenly realized that maybe, he never had. “Max, please…”
“Parker! You ok?”
Liz’s startled gaze jerked to the road. Sean was striding forward, looking from herself to Max, clearly unsure about exactly what was going on. Liz nodded, wiping at her eyes. “I’m fine.” She called, hoping he’d accept her tearful reassurance and completely unsurprised when he only quickened his step.
Max took in a deep breath, for the first time in his life he had to focus on not using his powers. On not breaking Sean DeLuca into a million pieces. On not…blaming him for what he was. I want to be in love with boys…normal boys. “There’s your normal boy.” He said quietly, with a nod in Sean’s direction. Max stared at Liz for a moment, his treacherous heart twisting at the tears which flowed more freely after his quiet barb. He shook his head, unable to think of anything more to say. Without breaking the lingering silence he simply turned, passing Sean as he headed for the jeep. At least he wouldn’t have to watch her walk away from him. Not that it mattered, he realized bitterly. It hurt just as much this way.
The fact that we are fools is duly noted...
But must that be our epitaph?
-SRC
I'd be an idiot if I weren't less than pleased about being doomed.
I'm back, with real honest to goodness parts. As some of you know, this was supposed to be a four part update buuuut, this is me. My 'final edit' of chapter 7 is taking way longer than it should so, since I didn't want to let these parts just sit there gathering dust, we're left with just the 3 part arc. Forgive me? Maybe I should ask after ya'll have read them...
Anyway, hope you enjoy and see ya soon! (Honestly - 7's almost done. )
Pathos
And now on with our story..........
*****************Part 4******************
Tess Harding stared across the road, the muted sign barely visible in the dark of the night. Peppers Café. This was where she’d been ordered to meet them. But there was no sign of Nicholas. No Rath…no Lonnie. Tess felt her breathing quicken with a sudden rush of anger, and her cerulean eyes narrowed. She was almost sorry that Lonnie wasn’t around. Let the bitch try to ‘remind’ her of her place now. Now that she was prepared. Now that she truly understood that no one was there to watch her back. Now that she realized Nasedo had been telling her the truth. About everything.
Searching the windows of the abandoned café, Tess finally saw signs of life. She suppressed a shiver as she watched a shadow disengage from the surrounding darkness to stand before the window. And then another. She blinked a little as she recognized Nicholas’ shorter figure standing toe to toe with the original shadow before backing hastily away, his form losing definition as he stepped from the window into the recesses of the café. Tess recognized retreat. And she didn’t like it. There was something off about this meeting, something that whispered a mocking reminder of her lost control. Assuming she’d ever really had the control to lose, she acknowledged bitterly. New York had been an eye opening experience and, even now it…frightened her. Enough to make her consider turning around. But with detached rationalism she realized that running would only force them to catch her. She could go to Max… Tess snorted, discarding the idea as ludicrous almost before it was fully formed in her mind. She wasn’t the Perfect Miss Parker. And while Max would forgive Liz anything, Tess knew he’d never cut her the same slack. No, the truth would only give him the excuse he’d been searching for since she arrived and he’d just exile her from the group. Leaving her alone and more vulnerable than she was now.
Tess sighed, drumming her fingers lightly on the steering wheel, drawing comfort from the easy cadence, just as she always had. Roswell had held such promise. She’d been so…well, made so many plans, she decided. She’d never really been foolish enough to allow herself to be hopeful. Hope was for dreamers. And she’d never been one of those. She was too practical. Too goal oriented. And at first anyway, her focus had served her well. She’d been pleased at how easily the other three fell into the categories she’d designated for them months before their actual meeting.
Hey! What the hell did you do to him? To all of us?
Michael. Stubborn, protective and questing. Headstrong, but loyal. He may as well have been a German Shepard.
Michael, stop it. She’s not Nasedo.
Max. Who ordered as easily as he asked. And did both without even realizing it. The leader without a clue. Or one shred of ambition, she’d come to learn.
Then who is she?
Isabel. The way in. The high strung princess looking for family and security. Safety. And always too frightened to reach for any of it.
She’s one of us.
Max hadn’t needed much manipulation to come to the correct conclusion. He wasn’t a complete idiot, after all. Yet, while those words had been a beginning for her, they’d been the end for him. The answer he’d been looking for. Tess shook her head. She still couldn’t believe it. The simple answers to the story of their past, that was all he’d needed to know. The legend of their future…that, Max wanted no part of. Who she was, who they were supposed to be together wasn’t something he cared about.
Liz.
Tess took a deep breath, feeling her power surge with her fury. The pivotal moment of her life had been the instant Nasedo placed Max Evans’ picture in front of her on their dining room table. Destiny and purpose made flesh and blood. The pivotal moment of Max’s life had been the instant he’d touched his palm to Liz Parker’s bare skin and saved her life. Or maybe it was the moment Liz knew and didn’t turn away. Or the instant she shook her head and told him she didn’t care that it was dangerous. Or their first kiss, or… Tess slammed the heel of her hand against the steering wheel. She was so sick of looking through Max’s mind and seeing Liz Parker.
She’s one of us.
Tess wanted to scream. Me, Max. Me. Not that stupid human bitch. She’ll never be one of us! But even after Max had made his proclamation, he’d never forced them to accept her. Hell, he’d never really accepted her, himself.. Even now. Especially now. Tess’ eyes narrowed further as her fingers tightened around the steering wheel, her knuckles turning white as a picture of Max rushing from the prom after Liz flashed behind her eyes. He never really let go. She could have lived with that. Really. Hell, she had been. Except that destiny had other plans. No matter what she wanted, her life still revolved around Max Evans. And it would until she completed her mission. Only then would she have her freedom and her rightful place, one of worship not contempt. It was only what she deserved.
Her fear slipped, lending her an almost excited sense of purpose. Quite suddenly Tess couldn’t wait for this meeting. She was sick of playing this game with Max, sick of competing with someone who shouldn’t even matter. It was insulting! Stupid human bitch. No matter Tess’ own sacrifice, Liz always found a way to steal her glory. Taking a steady comfort from her anger, Tess cloaked herself in righteous indignation while she recalled each and every slight her destined husband had ever betrayed her with. Not the least of which was that flash in New York. She shook her head in disgust. Did he even know how easy he was to read? Did he even realize that she knew? Max may have pulled her to himself and offered the safety of his embrace – long after Lonnie could have killed her, had that been the plan - but it was Liz Parker who consumed his mind. All the way from New York to Roswell Tess had sat through Max’s vague attempt at comfort, all the while knowing that it was Liz’s impossible appearance that he dwelled on. Tess was hardly surprised. It was always like that. No matter what was orchestrated to make her part of the group, no matter how necessary she’d made her powers to their survival, her acceptance was never personal. She gave them answers, she held the enemy at bay but none of them cared about her. It was never who she was, only what she could do. Which was all that mattered, she reminded herself sharply. They needed to think of her as indispensable in order for this to work. And it would work. Max certainly wasn’t going to stop her.
Nasedo had been right all along, Tess realized. They weren’t her family. They were nothing. She and her progeny were made for far greater things. The sudden insight was almost a relief, leaving Tess settled more comfortably in the role she’d been born to. Shoving the door open, Tess stepped from her SUV and headed across the road, her angry, purposeful stride eating the distance between her past and her true destiny. She couldn’t stall any longer, the shadows moving in the window told her as much. But then, she no longer needed to. She was a queen and Max had tried to turn her into a pawn. Again. He deserved whatever he got. Throwing her head back, Tess headed for the abandoned restaurant. She’d do what she had to do, just like always. And Max Evans could go to hell.
*******************
Zeijahra Shi’Ligh stood at the window watching Nicholas’ reflection in the glass. She wondered vaguely if his bored spinning on the stool in front of the counter was an affectation, or if he had played the part of the adolescent punk for so long he could no longer dissemble. The latter, she decided, listening as he beat out an annoying rhythm against the warped countertop.
“I don’t think this is a good idea. Tess has assured me…”
“I don’t care what you think.” Zeijahra interrupted easily. “And Tess has been assuring you for months with no results.”
Nicholas’ eyes narrowed angrily. “Look, you can’t just come in here and start issuing orders!”
Zeijahra raised a brow, coolly wondering if Nicholas even heard the petulance so clear in his voice. “In fact, I can. That’s why I was sent. Grow up Nicholas. You had a chance to redeem yourself. And now, your window of opportunity is quickly coming to a close.” She turned back to her study of the parked SUV and then sighed tiredly when she noted the disturbance in the air current that told her Nicholas was sliding stealthily from the stool behind her. Zeijahra allowed her focus to shift to the glass, unsurprised at the reflection which showed Nicholas raising a threatening hand in her direction. Audacious fool. Without moving from her position at the window she forcefully restrained his destructive impulse, wrapping her power around him and slowly increasing the pressure until he began to pant, finding it more and more difficult to draw breath..
Nicholas struggled to draw breath as Zeihjara’s power wrapped around his torso like a steel band, all the while fighting panic as he recognized the very real possibility of his husk’s seal rupturing under the strain. He stared at the silent woman before him, wanting to plead for mercy but knowing suddenly that it would be a waste of breath. He hadn’t made a sound. And she hadn’t turned to look at him. But Zeijahra’s aim had been true, her power moving as an almost separate entity from herself to seek and neutralize the threat. Talora. The word whispered through his brain, and even so many years removed from Antar it left him with the shadow fear of one just awakened from a nightmare. Forcing himself to stop struggling, Nicholas was finally able to draw breath, the rumors whispered to him from the other members of her unit echoing loudly through his brain. “It’s true, isn’t it?” He choked out, staring at the unmistakably graceful form of someone descended from the Antarian ruling class. “It wasn’t enough to betray The Royalists…you chose to become Talora?” he spat out in disbelief.
“I chose not to become a relic.” Zeijahra corrected, lowering herself enough to turn and study her quarry. “And you would do well to remember that the Talora no longer exist, assuming they ever did. I am a loyal servant to Khivar. Can you say the same?”
Nicholas swallowed, the cold menace glittering in Zeijahra’s iridescent eyes reminding him starkly of his precarious position in this operation. He was alive because Khivar had not seen fit to order his death. Yet. Nicholas nodded. “Of course.” He affirmed quickly, trying to shift to a more comfortable position in the grip of her power and finding none. “I…apologize.” He was grateful when she turned around, granting him some privacy at least, to choke on his own humility.
“Yes. You are sorry.” Zeijahra said, dropping her hold on him and ignoring the angry huff of his breath. Dismissing Nicholas as a threat, she turned back to the window.
Nicholas quickly swallowed his fury. It had been years since he’d had to play this game, but he wasn’t too old or too senile to remember how to win it. “Zeia…” he said, offering the diminutive of her name in token friendship. Challenging her leadership hadn’t worked, it was time to adopt the human motto of ‘if you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em.’ “I understand the position you’re in…”
Zeijahra raised a brow. “Do you, Nicky?” She mocked lightly, noting Tess’ progress through the grime encrusted window. “I don’t think that’s true. Khivar has become…anxious. I believe that he was looking forward to a show of force.” She shook her head while she studied the shadowed plains of the desert. “Not that this planet would take much force, but…I think even you can see my quandary. Tess’ sudden belief that she could fulfill her end of the deal was not met with…rejoicing, shall we say? And her continued stalling has left us somewhat…frustrated.”
Nicholas nodded. “Of course, I understand that. But what you need to understand is that this is a delicate…a difficult operation.”
“Difficult? How difficult could it possibly be for a genetically engineered Barbie doll to seduce one horny teenaged boy?” Zeijahra asked coldly.
“If we were on Antar you wouldn’t be so disrespectful.”
Zeijahra turned from the window slowly, almost feeling Tess’ whole body stiffen with the evident tension in the room. Zeijahra studied her critically, letting the silence stretch out until her cool perusal made Tess nervous enough to shift uneasily from one foot to the other. Zeijahra had to give the girl credit though, as uncomfortable as she clearly was, her head was still raised in aristocratic defiance. And while she may have stopped just inside the door of the café, the bride had yet to retreat backward, even a step. “Were we on Antar, your mission would have been completed. And thus my respect for you, or lack thereof would not be an issue. Now, your status…please.”
Tess blinked. The tall woman standing before her was both wholly unsympathetic and oddly polite. Something about that combination was incredibly unsettling. And the stillness of her regard…Tess glanced at Nicholas but he was clearly going to be of no help. In fact, he was watching her as if he thought there might be a way she could yank his ass from the flames. Taking a deep breath, Tess turned back to the woman, studying her appearance while she bided her time. She was tall and thin, with long, dark red hair flowing down her back in a loose braid. And her eyes… those eyes weren’t human. Tess swallowed hard when the dark, alien iridescence of the other woman’s gaze captured her own. This woman wasn’t a skin, either. Not with the way her pupils blended seamlessly into her iris leaving her expression cold and unreadable though strangely open and curious. That this woman was an alien wasn’t surprising. What was surprising was the fact that she wasn’t a hybrid. “Who are you?” Tess demanded, hoping she sounded slightly more imperious then she felt.
“Zeijahra Shi’Ligh…majesty.” Zeijahra replied, sketching a mocking bow in Tess’ general direction. She glanced over at Nicholas. “But apparently my friends call me Zeia.”
Tess nodded, feeling slightly better now that the alien before her had a name. “And what are you doing here?”
“I’m your two minute warning. The terms of the treaty are clear. And you’re running out of time. So, for everyone’s sake I hope you have good things to report.”
“What are you talking about? Nasedo never said anything about a time limit.”
“That’s not fair!” Tess pointed out angrily. Damn it! Time limit?! What else didn’t she know about this deal?
“Neither your protector’s incompetence, nor your idea of fair is my concern. As for your assumptions…change them.” Zeijahra replied coldly, shaking her head in disgust. She would be dealing with children until this whole ridiculous matter was taken care of and it was leaving a bitter taste in her mouth. But she’d do what she had to do. For the cause, she reminded herself. For Antar. Zeijahra reached toward the counter, pulling her copy of the treaty to her palm with easy precision. She tossed it at Tess. “The terms are all there, if you need to refresh your memory. You may wish to note that you have a matter of months to present the promised heir to Khivar.”
Tess caught the metal book clumsily, one edge scraping lightly against her cheek. Terms? Time limit? Nasedo had never even mentioned them! She nodded though, bluffing to cover her ignorance as she flipped through the pages of a book that looked suspiciously like the Destiny book. She’d have to get Alex to work a little harder if she was going to continue this game with the woman before her. Turning back to Zeia she said. “It, it’s not that simple…it’s complicated.”
“But it is simple. If you cannot produce the heir then the terms are null and void. If that is the case, tell me now and we can find another way. After I see to the loose ends that you and yours have left us, of course.” Zeijahra explained calmly. She was not in the business of accepting excuses and Tess had better learn that. With some alacrity.
Tess shook her head quickly. “I didn’t say I couldn’t produce the heir.” She argued, coming quickly to the disturbing conclusion that ‘another way’ would leave her as a loose end. And Tess wasn’t particularly fond of the idea of being ‘seen to.’ “I just…my status is that we are moving forward but someone’s in the way. He, Max, has this…” Tess paused, struggling against her nervousness for a way to describe Liz Parker which wouldn’t leave herself looking useless while Liz looked like ‘another way’. “He has this friend who…well, she won’t get it out of her head that he’s not interested in her that way. And, and so, well, Max is just too sensitive for his own good. He doesn’t want to hurt her feelings so we’ve been taking things slow. Really slow.”
“Really?” Zeijahra paused, her eyes searching out Tess’ ice blue gaze. “You realize, do you not, that having given us your assurance, failure is not an option?”
Tess nodded, feeling the coolness of Zeijahra’s gaze all the way at the base of her skull. “Of course.” She whispered, swallowing hard.
“Good. If this friendship is in the way, I suggest you find a way to destroy it. Soon.” Zeijahra advised.
“Of course, but this friendship…it’s complicated. I don’t know exactly…”.
“Destroy it and achieve your objective.” Zeijahra ordered implacably.
Tess stared. Even Nasedo hadn’t been so coldly demanding, though he was certainly close, she acknowledged angrily. They all acted as if she had nothing better to do with her life than to make sure that their plan succeeded! How the hell was she supposed to destroy…and suddenly she knew. Max and Liz may still be hanging onto one another, but it was only by a thread. Tess’ eyes narrowed in thought and a small smile played about her full mouth as a plan began to solidify in her mind. Her nerves evaporated in the face of what she was beginning to realize was a foolproof plan. The more she thought about it, the more Tess realized that she had just the thing to snap those two friends in half. And then all she had to do was pick up the pieces. She met Zeijahra’s iridescent gaze with her own steady one. “Done.”
Zeijahra raised a brow at the calm malice which lent such fullness to the single word Tess had just uttered. She nodded, vaguely impressed with the rally. “We’ll see.” She amended quietly, though from the look on Tess’ face, she almost felt sorry for Max’s friend. Sighing internally, Zeijahra forced herself to acknowledge the very real possibility that this ploy was going to work.
The fact that we are fools is duly noted...
But must that be our epitaph?
-SRC
I'd be an idiot if I weren't less than pleased about being doomed.
Never. Not in a million years. It was never supposed to happen like that. It was never supposed to…end like that. Liz stared out the car window, watching the lights of Main St as they flashed past, seeing nothing. Nothing but the anguished defeat lighting Max’s eyes right before he walked away from her. Her battered soul cried out in disbelief against the reality. Cried out in mourning for the loss, then subsided. And simply cried. It was never supposed to end like that. Her heart, numb for so many months joined the chorus like a vengeful fury, every beat reminding her of the illusion she’d been clinging to with such foolish ferocity. It was never supposed to end.
“Parker?” Sean waved a hand in front of Liz’s face before turning his attention back to the road. “Hey, Parker, you in there?”
Liz blinked, mentally shaking herself back to the present. “What?” Oh, right. She was in a car. With Sean. Going home. After Max had walked away from her. “Sorry. It…it’s been a long night.” And, God, it wasn’t even over yet. And there was still tomorrow…
Sean’s eyes narrowed briefly on Liz Parker’s far away expression. She looked…lost. Like she always did after Evans was around. “What’d he do to you?”
Liz shrugged. “Nothing. Everything.” She replied softly, too exhausted to care how that sounded. Her entire being felt raw, like a thousand open wounds. Her heart thudded dully against her ribs, each beat a stark reminder that those wounds would never heal. Never heal. Never heal…
Sean shook his head and pulled the VW Bug into a parking space in front of the Crashdown and turned to Liz. If anything, she looked more fragile than she had when he had picked her up only a few minutes ago. The bastard in Prince Charming’s clothing really did have one smooth operation going. “He’s not worth it, Liz.”
“Worth what?” Liz asked, glancing from her blank perusal of the ship above the restaurant to Sean’s serious expression.
Sean reached over and gently wiped the moisture from Liz’s right cheek. “Your tears.” He said quietly.
Liz sat back out of Sean’s reach and lifted a hand to her face in mute surprise. She hadn’t even realized she was still crying. “I…it…it’s complicated, Sean, just…”
Sean shook his head, narrowing his eyes at her retreat. Not that it was the first time she’d pulled away from him. “Why are you doing this? Tying yourself up in knots over him?” What did Max Evans have that he didn’t? What made Liz go back for more, even when it meant getting hurt?
“Sean…”
“No, I’m serious. What is this hold he has on you? I mean, if you can’t even trust him to take you to a dance without making you cry…”
“Sean, just stop it, ok? Max is like the most trustworthy person on this planet.” Liz snapped tiredly. Sean had no right to judge Max. He wasn’t part of the group, and he had no basis to judge something he would never understand.
“You sure?”
Make sure he deserves your trust.
Liz pulled in a shuddering breath as River Dog’s words raced through her brain, making her heart pound painfully in her chest. Her instincts for self preservation roared to life and her pride rallied with the pointed reminder that she was the injured party. Max had been chasing her for months, openly or not, his love clear in his eyes. He was the one that chose to go to the prom with her, and not Tess. And he was the one who’d been kissing someone else. Did he deserve her trust? After all, how could you be in love with one person and then kiss someone else? She had trusted him with her heart and…
And he trusted you with his.
Her heart, isolated and alone for so long was merciless in pointing out her own culpability. Liz glanced at Sean, uncomfortably aware of the kiss they’d shared. Sliding inconspicuously closer to the door, Liz cursed the underlying fairness of her own conscience and the ache in her heart which cried out against the betrayal of her own actions. Max had trusted her with so much, both her Max and Future Max. And now she felt like she’d betrayed them both. And somehow destroyed herself in the process.
“Look Sean, thanks for the ride but…”
“You don’t deserve this.” Sean interrupted.
“Yeah?” Liz asked tiredly. “What do I deserve?”
Sean shrugged. “I don’t know…to be happy. Doesn’t everyone deserve that?”
Yes! Liz felt her soul cry out in the affirmative. Yes, of course. Everyone did deserve to be happy. She’d done what she had to, so why couldn’t she let go? Why couldn’t she be happy now? Or just…not half dead. Maybe peace was all she could hope for. But as she remembered the desperate agony lighting Max’s expressive eyes just before he walked away, Liz wondered if that were even possible anymore. The fiction she had convinced herself to believe over the last few months about Max, and his newfound contentment with Destiny had disappeared after their…conversation? Argument?…Knock down, drag out fight? Liz sighed, feeling tears begin to blur her vision yet again as her heart pounded heavily with the knowledge that Max wasn’t any more at peace than she was.
Sean watched Liz disappear even further into herself. “Hey!” He snapped his fingers in front of her face. “Ok, so if you can’t do the happy thing right now, let’s start with fun. Come with me to the lanes. It’ll be fun and…I won’t make you cry.” He tried to tempt, sounding more serious than he’d intended.
Liz smiled softly. “Sean, thank you…for the ride and…but…I can’t. Not tonight.”
Sean exhaled the breath he’d been holding as Liz opened the door and stepped from the car. “I’ll be down at the lanes if you need me. For anything.”
Liz nodded. “Thanks. But I think I’m just gonna…go to bed.”
“Good night, then.” Sean said. He’d let her go for tonight, but he wasn’t ready to admit defeat just yet.
“Good night.”
Liz entered the apartment quietly and headed for her bedroom, grateful that her parents were both still downstairs watching the restaurant. Sinking heavily onto her bed, Liz stared blankly around her room, feeling oddly disconnected from the things around her. Pictures, posters, books…they’d all meant something to her, once. They’d all been some reflection of her personality. Now they just seemed a reminder of a moment gone by, of a girl who was no longer there. A girl who hadn’t really been there for months.
Liz drew a deep, shuddering breath, torn between the desire to throw a world class temper tantrum and the urge to curl up into a little ball and cry until this all went away. How had she gotten to this point? It was a good thing she’d done. The right thing, saving the world…so why did her heart continue to cry out against her decision? Why did she feel like she’d betrayed herself as much as Max had just betrayed her with his reaction?
In the scattered few times that she’d allowed herself to dream of telling Max the truth…Liz had never imagined his reaction being what it had been, never even imagined him capable of such a reaction. Wrapping her in his arms…soothing her tears away…telling her it was ok, that he understood…she’d seen all those things so clearly. Max walking away as she cried, leaving her feeling more alone than she’d ever dreamed possible…never in a million years would she have imagined that. Maybe she should have.
Liz bit back her tears. It’s not like she hadn’t been warned, she acknowledged bitterly. Max’s future incarnation had been pretty clear about the fact that once they changed history, the man he was would cease to exist. Foolish, naïve child that she’d been, Liz hadn’t understood what that meant. She’d known that there was no future for them but the immediacy of losing her Max, the present Max…it was the white elephant in the room, the truth she’d studiously avoided. Until tonight. It had taken Max walking away for her to understand that the wished-for moment of gentle comfort wrapped in his arms…was never going to happen. He was gone. He’d disappeared from her life as surely as his future self had. Liz closed her eyes, her throat closing on the harsh sob that wanted to break free as the truth rushed headlong through her soul. It may have taken months, but Max had been slowly disappearing since the night he saw her with Kyle. Just as his future self had been disappearing, even before he’d ceased to exist.
Don’t leave me, Liz.
Future Max had been somewhere else even before he’d disappeared from her arms. He’d been reaching for Liz. And not her. His wife. His Liz. She’d felt it in the soul jarring flash right before he left her, right before he spun her straight into isolation and grief. He’d been able to do his part because his wife was waiting for him and they would be together, he simply knew it. He knew it the same way he knew his own name or his own heart. For one brief, stunning instant Liz had glimpsed a moment of the incredible soul completing depth that was the two of them together. Because the last part of Max’s future self to fade from existence had been his unbending faith. In her. It had been lost to time, maybe, but not sacrificed to necessity as her Max’s faith had been.
It wasn’t fair! Liz had no doubt that their future selves were clinging to each other in comfort. And Max…her Max had…Tess. Who did she have? Who was going to make Liz better? Who would comfort her? No one. She was alone, just as she’d predicted.
Liz cried silent tears as her heart ruthlessly beat out a chorus of I-told-you-so’s. And she had no argument against the point. Her heart had told her so. Selfish vessel that it was, it had cried out against the necessity of its breaking from the very beginning. But her conscience had overridden any and all second thoughts. What was one heart compared to millions of lives? Two hearts, her conscience reminded her softly, Max’s devastated expression playing out behind her tired eyes. Liz sighed around her tears, wishing desperately that her conscience would just pick a damn side, already. Preferably her own. She had little left, otherwise.
Maybe it’s for the best. For you, too.
How could being alone be for the best? How could losing Max…Oh, God. She’d really lost him. The stark knowledge whispered sharply through Liz’s soul and she wept harder, falling heavily against her pillows to muffle her harsh sobs. Without the surreal, dreamlike quality of her night with Future Max, she had no buffer to ease the pain which threatened to consume her. Tonight wasn’t a dream, it was real. And it wasn’t like the last time. Tonight…tonight the distance between them became permanent, somehow. The abyss, unbridgeable. Liz could feel it in the subtle rending of her soul, as if every ounce of love Max had ever given her were being torn from her desperate grip. Maybe she should just stop fighting and concede the battle to Destiny . No matter what her heart claimed, she had no right to Max’s love. Or even his friendship, if they had ever truly been friends. Polite acquaintances. Perhaps that was a better term. Two people ignoring everything they’d been in the vain attempt not to lose the last piece of who they were. But maybe who they were had been lost months ago, burned from their souls along with the future that they’d never share. Perhaps tonight was simply a scattering of the ashes. Liz cried harder, her chest heaving with her sobs, her heart feeling like it was about to burst. Future Max was right, she tried to convince herself. It was better this way. Now her life could go back to normal.
What’s so great about normal?
Nothing. Liz felt her heart still at the memory before crying out her answer. There was nothing great about normal, unless Max was there with her. Normalcy was a cold, ill defined comfort at this point in her life. What was normal without some life threatening alien crisis? What was her life without Max?
Five years from now I don’t want you to open your eyes and realize that…that you missed out. You’re part of the group. You always will be. But you need to be allowed to…to grow.
Why can’t you come with me?
Because I can’t. But, I’ll be watching you Liz Parker, wherever you go…and I’ll be here when you get back.
Liz wept harder as Max’s words echoed hollowly through her memory. Without his strong arms wrapped around her, they meant nothing. Less, since she knew his promise had to have been lost somewhere amidst the fallout of their argument. The moment burned behind her eyes, too bittersweet for tears. Max may have been light years away from the boy who had asked her to run away with him, but in the very heart of himself, he was still Max. That day…his feelings for her had been clear in his eyes and in the clinging strength of his embrace. It was killing him, letting her go. But he’d do it because it was right. And it was what he believed she wanted. As hurt as he’d been, he’d never truly failed to put her well being above his own. Why couldn’t she do the same? When had she started watching her life instead of participating in it? Liz exhaled a harsh breath. Maybe it wasn’t Max she’d lost, maybe she’d lost track of herself.
We create our own destiny.
Only, she couldn’t. Because the one she wanted had been created for someone else. Maybe dying that day in the Crashdown had been her real destiny, and now she was simply so much extra karmic baggage.
Not for the first time, Liz wondered about her future self. The Liz who had created a destiny with Max. Surely, she was as different from that Liz as Max was from the man who had dropped into her life and turned it upside down. Had Future Liz disappeared before Future Max had completed his mission? If circumstance was the key to who you were then the answer was yes, for Liz had begun to feel the changes within herself even before Max had turned away from her. She’d shifted into someone else the second she stopped lying for him and started lying to him. Like every lie she’s ever told, it had been necessary, but…how could she blame him for not understanding when, so many months later, Liz wasn’t so sure that she understood. All she knew was that her life had become a shadow, an empty reminder of things that would never be. Who was she, now that her future no longer belonged to her?
Sitting up Liz glanced over at the journal sitting idly on the table next to her bed. It had been months since she’d recorded even the date in its pages. There had been no reason to. The pain had been daily, she hadn’t needed to write about it in order to keep an accurate record. Liz picked up the leather bound book, wondering at the odd feeling of its weight in her palm. Flipping back through the pages, she wondered at God’s ironic, twisted sense of humor. Max had saved her life, filled her senses and her heart with the joy of so much possibility…
I’m coming for you, Liz.
I believe in you.
And then he’d taken it all away…
It’s you I trust.
It’s you I have faith in.
Liz flipped backward through the blank pages of her journal, ignoring the tears that fell and marred the smoothness of the paper. Michael had told her once that anyone reading her journal would know all about her. Flipping through the emptiness, she realized he was probably still right.
February 20th …these feelings are strong, dangerous…undeniable. It’s like I have no choice. It’s like…chemical.
Addictive. That was Max. The feel of his fingers against her skin, the power of his feelings wrapping around her heart, keeping her safe. The depth of his caring making her feel fragile and invincible all at once. His soul deep sincerity banishing her fears and leading to the inescapable conclusion that what they were doing was right. They were right. “Meant to be.” Liz whispered. Destined soulmates…or they had been, before destiny became a dirty word in her vocabulary.
Then tell me, Max…what’s my destiny?
I only know the part I’m hoping for.
But there was no more hope to be had. Only memories. Liz bit her lip against the sharp ache battering her soul, echoing the staccato beat of her lonely heart. Like an instinct long buried, her entire being railed angrily against her stubbornness. But what choice did she have? It didn’t have to be a memory, a small, damnably resilient piece of herself insisted. Liz shook her head, trying to crush that last odd bit of optimism with the fact that it was a memory. And the world needed it to remain a memory…didn’t it?
October 28th …
Liz smiled sadly. She remembered her own innocence all those months ago. Remembered the rush of excited energy that swirled through her body every time Max was near. He felt it too, the pull, even though they’d continued to dance around each other, saying more in a simple 5 minute conversation than she had to Kyle in the whole of their relationship.
That day that you saved me, I felt something that I just had to put into words…so years from now, if anyone ever…if anyone ever touches me the way that you did, I’ll know what it’s supposed to feel like.
Liz laughed bitterly. Who was she kidding? No one would ever touch her the way Max had. And looking back, knowing what his touch felt like…it left anyone else’s touch feeling cold. Doesn’t that mean something, her heart questioned doggedly. Doesn’t it mean something that Max hasn’t been able to let go, either?
Shaking her head and ignoring the warped 20-20 clarity of her second thoughts, Liz returned to what she’d written with the silent reminder that Max had certainly been able to let her go tonight.
October 28th…I realized one thing…that the bigger your world gets, the bigger your problems get too.
Well, that much was true at least.
October…19th ….sometimes your heart takes you to places that can never lead to a happy ending.
Liz hesitated. It was too much right now. Too much to know that Grandma Claudia would be so disappointed in her.
Promise me one thing, that you’ll follow your heart, wherever it takes you. Trust it. Will you do that?
I will.
The words echoed through her soul without the benefit of being read, her heart pounding a painful, angry reminder of its existence against her ribs. God! She’d lied to her grandmother…on her deathbed! But what choice did she really have? How could she be expected to follow her heart when it only ever led to the one person she needed to stay away from? And yet…what good had staying away really done?
Follow your heart, wherever it takes you…
Liz flung the journal away as if it had burned her. When had she become this…person? This girl who betrayed the people she cared the most about. Max, her grandmother…herself.
You’re not allowing yourself to change!
Liz shook her head, her heart pounding a denial at the accusation. God! How could he have expected her to change the truest part of herself? Did he really think she could just stop loving him? Maybe, Liz acknowledged. He’d expected it of himself. And maybe she had changed because suddenly, she was desperate to find a way back to who she was. Who she really was. She didn’t want to live as if she were half dead anymore. She wanted to be the girl who’d made her grandmother proud. She wanted to be the girl Max believed in. She wanted to stop feeling so out of control, and so caged all at the same time. She wanted to grow, but not in the direction she was headed, not into someone lonely and bitter. She didn’t want to be a shadow.
I’m not gonna be free to move on unless I get Max to move on.
Apparently, the truest words she’d spoken during that whole debacle had been to Tess, of all people. Forcing a deep breath into her lungs, Liz acknowledged that she wouldn’t be able to live unless she knew that Max was living, too. And maybe, somehow…with her. She needed to know that he didn’t simply know what she’d done, but understood why she’d done it. Her heart, so long unheeded, refused to remain silent, offering up the one truth that had been eating at her, at both of them really, since she’d pretended to sleep with Kyle. She couldn’t live with the idea that Max hated her. They were…connected, somehow and that wasn’t going away. The last six months had proven that fact. And even though that connection could never be everything it should be, her heart wouldn’t let her simply walk away and leave one of the best parts of herself behind.
Standing unsteadily on her feet and wiping absently at her tears, Liz made her decision. She needed to talk to Max, really talk to him. They needed to have the conversation they should have had the day after Future Max had disappeared. It was what her heart had battled her conscience to do. She’d ignored her heart and her whole existence had fallen apart. She wasn’t going to ignore it anymore. She would go and talk…to…Max…
Liz sank back down onto her bed. There wasn’t a chance in hell that Max was going to listen to her. Not after the way their last conversation had gone. Not after the way she’d hurt him.
I think I need a friend.
Liz felt her brief moment of panic still in the face of her memory. Maybe he would give her just one more chance to explain. After all, Max had still looked to her for help, even after he’d been hurt the last time. When he was at his most vulnerable…he’d still come to her. Just as she looked to him when it became undeniably clear that everything in her life had stopped making sense.
Watching Alex this week…I just realized that…it’s our right to see the world, to live our dreams…live life.
She hadn’t been asking for permission, she’d been seeking his understanding. His support. And he’d offered it selflessly.
Five years from now I don’t want you to open your eyes and realize that…that you missed out.
Liz already knew she’d missed out. She knew more than she’d ever wanted to know about the future and what couldn’t be. But Max’s gentle encouragement had made the present seem less a moment to survive, and more a time to begin. To live. She had to turn tonight around. She had to make it a time to begin.
Grow.
I’ll be watching you Liz Parker, wherever you go…and I’ll be here when you get back .
Liz raised her head and wiped at her eyes with sudden purpose. Until this moment she hadn’t understood the importance she’d placed on his gentle vow, hadn’t realized the oddly serene comfort of knowing that, even if they couldn’t be together they didn’t have to be completely divided. But now she did understand. Their connection went deeper than simply being in love. They understood each other. They found strength with each other, and comfort. It had to mean something. Even after all this time and all the pain, they still looked to each other to make the world make sense…it had to mean something. Max couldn’t be her boyfriend, and he’d never be her husband but…they could still be there for each other. Where was the rule that said soul mates had to be lovers? Liz could almost hear the skeptical snort from her common sense. Fine. If not soul mates, certainly kindred spirits, Liz reasoned, continuing doggedly down the path she’d only just now chosen. She could live with…kindred spirits. She could, she argued. Her relationship with Max didn’t need to be romantic. They knew how to be friends. They’d done it before, they could do it again. Her heart was finally beating normally, as if the weight constraining it had finally lifted. Rising quickly from the bed Liz grabbed her heels, then dumped them unceremoniously on the floor in favor of grabbing the sneakers that were sticking out from underneath her bed. Heels wouldn’t get her where she needed to be tonight.
Follow your heart, wherever it takes you…
Liz nodded, taking her first deep breath in what felt like forever. “I will.” She and Max both needed to grow. And they could do that without hating each other. Now she just had to convince him of that. Somehow. Because she couldn’t leave him behind without losing the heart of herself.
The fact that we are fools is duly noted...
But must that be our epitaph?
-SRC
I'd be an idiot if I weren't less than pleased about being doomed.
“It’s over. “ Max repeated aloud, for no one’s benefit but his own. “It’s over.” Perhaps it was his imagination but those two words came more easily, now. They seemed less personal somehow, compared to the first time he’d admitted the truth. Less cutting, even given the despair which lingered throughout his soul, replacing the fragile hope he’d clung to ever since he and Liz had decided to go to the prom together. Max shook his head in acidic amusement. Now, that was a colossal mistake, if ever there was one. The hope, that is. The prom…the prom had served its purpose. He’d left his house that evening with every intention of clarifying things with her, of making her see…it didn’t matter, anymore what he’d wanted her to see. He was quite clear on everything, now. It was over. Had been for months.
So why did his soul still ache for her? And why the hell couldn’t he let her go?
Max scrubbed tiredly at his eyes and then forced himself to focus on the cold drama of the night sky. But the concentrated attempt to turn his attention elsewhere did nothing to still the memories echoing harshly through his brain. Memories that didn’t belong to him. And memories that told him more than he’d ever wanted to know. He was so goddamn sick and tired of memories! Abruptly unable to ignore his temper, Max slammed the heel of his hand against the rough hewn drift of stone next to where he sat. He was only mildly surprised by the vicious surge of power that swelled under his palm at the impact, cushioning his hand and dissolving the rock into a loose pile of silt and sand. The granules fell away into the breeze, leaving behind no proof of their existence. Watching idly as the only evidence of his violence disappeared into the night, Max wondered why he couldn’t let Liz Parker’s memory go that easily. After all, that’s all she was now. A memory. And maybe not even that, he admitted dispassionately. Maybe all she’d ever been was a fantasy.
He’d take it.
Exhaling harshly, Max cursed himself for the collapse of his brief detachment. The truth giveth and the truth taketh away, he misquoted bitterly. Liz Parker wasn’t who he’d thought she was. True. And it didn’t matter, he longed for her anyway. Against the bounds of reason and pride, he continued to reach for her only to feel her slap his hand away. Again and again. Foolish and stupid, but also…true.
Truth. Max shook his head in frustration. He’d finally learned the truth, so why didn’t it make a difference? Why was he still left with a soul that continued to reach for something that had never been real? Why couldn’t he just let go, as Liz had so…resolutely asked him to do? Again and again. Why couldn’t he simply grant her the victory she’d worked so hard to achieve? Following his destiny…hadn’t that been his only option, all along?
He and Tess were made for each other, Max acknowledged reluctantly. Engineered for each other. There was nothing there to ponder, nothing to debate, or consider. Nothing to fear. Their compatibility wasn’t a matter of feeling, or fate. And it had nothing to do with a God he didn’t believe in. It was science. Hard and fast science. Liz could certainly appreciate that. Max swallowed hard. Genetic engineering. He shivered a little, vaguely repulsed, as he always was when he envisioned his own creation. Built. Like a house, or a car. Or was cloned a better word? Whatever you called it…he was made to be someone else. Someone who’d lived 50 years ago on a different planet, and then refused to die. And apparently ‘til death us do part’, wasn’t an Antarian wedding vow because Tess had been made for him. So what had gone wrong? Had the scientists tiptoeing so heavily through Fate’s territory shaken, when they should have stirred? Had they added too much human to his genetic mix? Or too much alien? It was so clear to everyone else. So, why was it that the truest part of himself continued to rebel against his ever touted destiny?
Unbidden, Liz’s hushed, gentle laughter floated though Max’s mind, granting him his answer and underscoring the idiocy of his question. Right. Incompetent scientists. They’d forgotten to take into account the perversity of a soul that didn’t believe in destiny or God, but found sanctity in the soulful gaze of one small girl.
Against his will, Max felt the despairing numbness of the evening give way to the illusory comfort of memory. He shook his head. No, not this time! Not…but the memory was too clear, too cherished to be shaken. That night…too much like this one for him to be left in peace. He’d been surrounded by darkness then, too…and so much more. Like tonight, it had been cool and breezy. And the stars were so clear and so close that he felt like he could reach out and touch them. He might have tried, had he not been more interested in touching Liz. And in feeling her hands on his own skin… Max closed his eyes, but darkness did nothing to diminish his vivid recollection. God, it was still so clear…if he thought about it too long, he’d feel her wrapped around his heart. As if her love were an immediate, tangible thing. The science could go to hell. Zahn could go to hell and his destiny could rot there, Max thought defiantly. His body may have been made for Tess, but his soul…his soul had been crafted for Liz alone.
That’s what’s really there, all the time. If we could only see it.
Liz had agreed with him, then. The awe and wonder lighting her eyes as she nodded at him had been unmistakable. The beauty of her excitement, her shy desire...everything about her had been breathtaking. She’d stolen his dreams, that night. And replaced them with promises of fulfillment when he suddenly realized that, while he’d been speaking of the night sky, she’d been looking at him. With wonder and awe and…desire. Love. That one instant had shifted his entire view of the cosmos. The stars were no longer the cold sentries who had cast him mercilessly from their midst. Instead they were…beautiful, magical. Sanctified guardians who watched over them from a universe away, witnesses to a moment that had become sacred. Sacred because what he was…in her eyes it, he wasn’t repulsive. He could still see it so clearly. In her eyes, he was beautiful.
I’m just gonna put myself in your hands…
And she had. Max took a deep breath. Liz had loved him then, with an abandon that astounded him to this day. She might not love him now, but then… hell, who’s to say what then had meant to her. Maybe it was all part of the…No! No. Max felt his common sense give ground in the face of his souls fierce, pleading onslaught. Please don’t take that memory away…please, give me that one, at least. And maybe…
I’ll just have an Alien Blast.
Me, too.
Throughout his entire meal, Max had tried to convince himself that the whisper which slid so softly from her lips had been his imagination. The blush that had stolen across her cheeks, merely a response to the heat. He’d saved her life but that didn’t mean that they were anything more than…friends. Just friends. And barely that. Even if it felt like so much more.
I’m just scared. Look, I don’t even know why I’m calling you. I guess I just wanted to hear your voice or something…
Max felt his heart pound painfully against his ribs, just as it had the first time he’d listened to her message. She’d needed him. Not Kyle. Not Maria. Him. Not his power or even the mystery that shadowed him and sparked her agile mind, but him. She’d wanted to hear his voice. It was heady and unnerving all at the same time. And, even then, he’d known it couldn’t lead to anything good.
I’m sorry.
Thank you.
He’d thought he failed her. But he’d been wrong. Max relaxed into the memory, still vaguely astonished that he’d been able to form any kind of connection with her grandmother, and even more shocked to realize that it wasn’t simply a last goodbye that Liz required. Only later, after she’d wrapped her arms around his neck and he’d pulled her close, did he understand that it wasn’t his power she’d needed, but him. It was his presence that brought her comfort. And his embrace which soothed her spirit and helped to heal her heart.
Max smiled sadly. It was pathetic, maybe, but so easy to get lost in his memories. His memories, he thought possessively. They didn’t require an alien jumpstart to surface. His memories of Liz were always simply a thought away, lingering just beyond the echo of his heartbeat. But there was an odd, surreal quality to them now, like the impression he’d glimpsed in Vegas. Or her form appearing to him in New York…real, and yet completely beyond his reach.
Max shook his head, sighing at the familiar, aching emptiness that was beginning to steal through his soul. He’d thought maybe that was over with. It had been over with…for a couple weeks, anyway. Days, maybe…moments. Didn’t matter. He had, however briefly, stepped past the pain and the emptiness. Past Liz Parker. He’d moved on, damn it!
I realized that I can’t be friends with you because…I’m still hanging on…to you. To what we had. So…I decided to make a clean break.
True to form, Liz had been more concerned by what he was going to do with the granolith than by his announcement. And true to form, Max reminded himself bitterly, he’d placed that memory at the back of his mind, ignoring it in favor of her dramatic appearance in the middle of downtown New York. Looking back…who could guess why she’d risked projecting to him. But at the time… Liz’s appearance had seemed like so much more than a simple illusion. When he looked up and saw her, when his eyes met hers…at that moment, Liz may as well have been living inside his skin. Max took in a deep, shuddering breath. If he concentrated he could still remember what she felt like. Vibrant, warm, alive with her love, and her desperate fear for him, which overwhelmed almost everything else. It had all faded to nothing as he stepped forward, half convinced that some new alien power had conjured her as he wished she was…still in love with him. But she’d been real. And the feel of her lodged so securely within him…a part of him, some base instinct had shouted a victory that she was finally where she belonged. Max could still feel the rush of relief that had almost brought him to his knees. But then she’d disappeared, and he was alone, left with only a shadow of that brief…communion? Completion? Trick of the light? He’d chased that shadow like a fool, rushing home, desperate to make sense of it all, needing to know if what he’d felt had been real. But Liz had been exactly as he’d left her, polite, but not honest. Even her obvious relief at his safe return had been…distant somehow, haunted by the same desperate plea which had been swimming in her eyes since…Kyle.
Max ran a frustrated hand through his hair. Liz Parker was like one of those Sirens in that stupid epic, calling to him, making him forget everything but her eyes. He wished she’d take pity on him, just get it over with and dash his head against the rocks. Instead she’d given him a brief glimpse of possibility. And he’d run with it, seeing every dream he’d cherished and thought lost begin to take shape again. He’d clung to his sudden hope. And she’d fought to take it away. Odd how, without ever stopping to consider the stakes, they’d entered into this never ending tug of war. Pushing each other away even as they struggled ever closer.
Why? Why did they struggle so hard? For what? A brief moment of contact, usually painful and almost always stolen…was that really worth his sanity?
How is it possible that I could be…I could be the happiest that I’ve ever been in my entire life, you know…and now the saddest all at…all at one time?
I think that’s what being in love is.
Happiness, sadness…those words were too mundane, too dull to describe the riot of color and feeling that infused a room every time he and Liz were together. Joy, bliss…anguish. He’d be willing to accept the anguish, if only they were granted a few moments of joy. Max shook his head at his own prevarication. Who was he kidding? He’d endure anything as long as Liz was in his arms. But lately, even when she was in his arms…Liz Parker was already gone. Could he really blame her?
Kyle was right.
That’s not true.
Everyone we touch gets hurt in some way or another.
The memory raced through Max’s body, the bittersweet agony of the way she’d clung to him in the eraser room still choking him, even so many weeks later. The feel of her against him…so different from the last time her arms had wrapped around his neck in that room. And still so right, the way their bodies fit together effortlessly. He wondered idly if she even realized the flash she’d sent.
Let’s just keep running, you and me, away from here, away from everything. I see everything so clearly now. We’ll go someplace where no one knows us. As long as we’re together, nothing else matters.
Max closed his eyes against the nausea that twisted his gut. He still couldn’t believe he’d said that. But her recollection held none of the embarrassment of his own. Instead, it was suffused with warmth and…longing. Even in his wildest dreams he couldn’t have imagined the depth of her longing, the aching desire to throw caution to the wind and run away with him. But she’d forced herself to do the right thing. Just as, months later in that eraser room, he’d followed suite and forced himself to do the same. He’d told her that she should live her dreams, reminded her that she deserved every happiness. He’d almost let her go. But he couldn’t stop himself from reminding her also that he would always be there, watching, and waiting for her.
I’ll be watching you Liz Parker, wherever you go…and I’ll be here when you get back.
Max snorted. Pushing and pulling. It seemed that was all they ever did. He wanted her to grow. He did, but…in the silence of the desert he could admit that he didn’t really want to let her go. He couldn’t. It was selfish perhaps, and definitely foolish, but he wanted her to choose to grow with him. Here. As she had once before. Was it too much to believe that maybe she could live her dreams and never want to leave here? Never want to leave him? Max sighed. Obviously. But the obvious had never stopped him. Or Liz
They’d pushed and pulled. And gotten nowhere but more deeply entrenched in this odd, ambiguous, in-between place where they were afraid to make a move for fear of leaving each other behind…or was it the fear of coming together? Max honestly didn’t know anymore. Maybe it was just fear. Or maybe it was just all they knew. Pushing and pulling. Loving and fighting. And finally, just fighting. Fighting themselves, fighting each other, and fighting the perfection of a memory. Max felt bitter tears welling in his eyes but he blinked them back. He was so sick of fighting for something that was already lost. But if he let go…what did that leave?
The truth.
Max laughed caustically, the sound echoing dully across the rock. Truth. He dropped his head into his hands. The god damn irony wasn’t lost on him. Truth. It was what he’d wanted from the moment he’d seen her with Kyle. And what she’d hidden from him every moment afterwards. Pushing and pulling. Fighting. All of it for one overrated principle that did nothing but destroy everything in its path.
You owe me an explanation and I want it right now!
For the last few months, all he’d wanted was to find out what was going on with her. He’d needed to understand why Liz was suddenly sheltering her soul away from him, killing him with her distance as much as her seeming betrayal. Be careful what you wish for, wasn’t that how the saying went? Liz Parker had learned to twist the truth in order to protect him. And then she’d used her new skills to destroy him.
What the hell is going on with you Liz? We never lied to each other, never kept a secret from each other.
Well, he’d never lied to her, anyway. With jarring precision Max’s memory turned biting, losing even the slightest hint of warmth and reminding him only of the cold premeditation of Liz’s actions.
What we do here has to be precise and surgical.
Great! Max thought, his mouth twisted in a mocking smile. And another version of Max Evans has now entered the building! This was just what he needed. As if his damn head weren’t full enough, with both Zahn and himself maneuvering for space, now there was ‘Future Max’. He was beginning to feel like one of Scrooge’s ghosts. But, as disturbing as it was, the fact that the memory and the command echoed from his own voice did nothing to lessen his vitriolic focus on Liz. Having been thrown from the bitter apathy of his earlier musings, Max found himself ignoring the familiar, searing heat of the pain that clutched at his heart. Instead, he sought out the cold fury that had brought him to the desert in the first place, desperately hoping that anger would mute his pain into something more bearable.
Liz, it’s not safe. I mean, for you and, and me to…it’s not safe.
I don’t care.
Liar.
The word echoed through Max’s consciousness like a virus, corrupting the dreamlike innocence of his reminiscence with nothing less than the truth. Feeling his power surge, Max glanced down in mild interest as more rock was brutally crushed to silt beneath his palm. And then his pride rallied with a memory that obliterated the already uncertain comfort of his previous recollections, sweeping his security out from under him yet again as if it were nothing more than dust.
I love you.
“Liar!” Max growled. You didn’t treat people you loved the way Liz had treated him. She’d woven herself into the tapestry of his soul and then yanked the thread, leaving him alone to unravel slowly…or, maybe not so slowly.
I hate this! I hate that we can’t even be around each other. Long before we kissed…we were friends…I don’t want you to hate me.
“Liar.” Max hissed, welcoming the buffer of his building fury.
Maybe it’s for the best. For you, too.
Maybe, Max acknowledged coldly, especially given Liz’s inability to have a conversation with him that didn’t include a lie. Or the odd attempt to rip his heart out, he reminded himself sardonically. Not possible. He ignored the treacherous echo of a denial which still raged through his soul, had been raging since he’d seen her with Kyle. Not possible. She’d never do that, never betray him like that. Never hurt him like that. Max snorted, his own ignorance both appalling him and fueling the cool anger that was finally beginning to overwhelm the pain. He’d been such a fool to believe that she’d never hurt him. A fool to believe that she could love him as much as he loved her. Years of secrecy and conspiracy with only Michael and Isabel, and it was that one fantasized illusion which had somehow become the bedrock of his existence. She loved him as much as he loved her. That knowledge had been thrilling, amazing, awe inspiring…and unbelievable. Because, Max reminded himself ruthlessly, it was a lie. The last year and a half of his life, his memories…they weren’t real. Because if Liz Parker had ever loved him, she wouldn’t have hurt him the way she had. She wouldn’t have broken his heart.
Don’t you know what you are to me? You’re the love of my life, everyone else will always be second best.
“Liar…” Max whispered hoarsely, the word fading to lost in the calm desert breeze. “Liar.” He repeated stubbornly, the word heavy against his lips.
Because she wasn’t.
Max closed his eyes against the flashes he’d been studiously ignoring since they’d poured into his consciousness. Flashes that were explanation and indictment, all at once. Liz had hurt him, she’d broken his heart, but…
She’d hurt herself, too. And broken her own heart, first.
I, I just…I can’t do this anymore.
… you have to do this! You have to find a way. All of our lives depend on it.
Max felt his entire defense surrender in the face of what he’d felt, what he could still feel in those flashes. The devastation he’d read so often in her eyes over the last months was nothing compared to the shadow of her anguish which now raged through his soul. Christ, and this was a mere recollection of what she’d been feeling. Max drew his knees to his chest and wrapped his arms around his legs, needing some small warmth to combat the sudden, biting chill of the night air. He could barely breathe. The image of Liz, weeping, her arms wrapped so tightly around herself that her grip was painful, hovered in his conscience with aching condemnation. He’d watched. His future self had simply watched. She’d been so desperate for something to keep her from falling apart, for him to…but instead, she’d held herself together…while he…his future self, watched. The flash burned behind Max’s eyes, colliding with a thousand other images. A thousand other pains.
You, Max. You happened.
It was the truth. Liz wasn’t lying anymore. And suddenly he wished that she was. That irony wasn’t lost on him, either. He didn’t want to believe it. But, beyond the horrible ring of truth that had echoed through her earlier words, beyond the fact that ‘Future Max’s’ visitation suddenly gave the events of the last few months a stinging, logical progression…he had seen it in her eyes tonight. And he saw it, God, he felt it in the flashes that now echoed ceaselessly through his brain. Christ! He’d screwed himself.
I need you to help me fall out of love with you.
Max wanted to ignore the reality, ignore his own warped culpability. He could never become a man who would do that to Liz. He’d never hurt her, hurt them like that. But the flashes continued to play out behind his eyes in agonizing detail, refusing to be ignored or denied.
The shadow of Liz’s anguish beat closely against Max’s own heart, blending into his own with seamless precision. Her pain echoed with such strength, even across a flash that he found it difficult to draw a deep breath. Every aching sob that she’d been unable to hold in battered at the wall of angry bitterness which wanted to hold his soul beyond the pain of the truth. But avoiding the truth was no longer an option. He couldn’t ignore what was right in front of his face, behind his eyes, and tearing at his heart. Even if he was suddenly certain that the truth he’d been seeking would hurt far more than the lie he’d dismissed.
Do you know how hard it was for me to tell him that I didn’t want to die for him? He’s the only reason that I’m alive right now. You…you’ve gotta come up with another plan. Please…go to someone else.
But he hadn’t gone to someone else. Max shook his head, unable to fathom how any version of himself could deny Liz when she was so obviously desperate. So obviously in pain. But he had denied her. He’d denied her comfort, denied her hope…denied her everything but the crushing responsibility for an entire planet. And so she’d done as he asked.. Because she couldn’t turn her back on the world…on him. She’d done it for him. Because she trusted him, trusted him more than anyone else on the planet. At least she had then. Now…
Liz, I am telling you what happened and we have to change that. We have to. And so far we’ve failed. Liz, it’s not just Max that’s the problem here. You are. You are not letting yourself to change. Now you have to do something…before it’s too late!
Max shook his head. The desperation of the order was perhaps understandable. The world was ending, after all, he reminded himself sardonically. But the coldness of it…the utter lack of concern for everything that Liz was going through…that he couldn’t understand. He’d never treat Liz with such callous disregard. It was unthinkable.
Max, please…
There’s your normal boy.
That was different…or maybe it wasn’t. Running a frustrated hand through his hair, Max acknowledged the truth. It had to have been easier to get angry with her, rather than dwell on his own helplessness. His failure. Which it obviously had been, if he’d gone to all the trouble of going back in time to destroy himself. Liz had never seen that, he knew. She’d never understood that his future self wasn’t oblivious to the consequences. But Max knew, because he understood ‘Future Max’ better than he’d ever understand Zahn. His future self had been fully aware of the tear that would rip through the fabric of his being as soon as he lost Liz. But he’d gone through with it anyway. Just as Liz had understood the pain she was going to inflict, known the agony that would tear into his soul once he saw her with…Kyle. And she’d gone through with it anyway. Max couldn’t control the flashes but he stubbornly ignored those that included Kyle. He’d seen enough of that already. But the aftermath…that he couldn’t ignore.
The look on his face…on your face…
Max could feel her tears. And the aching chasm marring her soul as it was shredded willfully in the name of sacrifice. Liz had hated doing what she did. Hated hurting him…and hated that her plan seemed to work. The depth of her feeling…he could feel it choking her more and more as he seemed to slip away. She died a little more as the days passed and he became more at ease with Tess. Max saw himself now, as Liz did. And she’d noticed everything. The smallest brush of his fingers against Tess’ arm which signaled a friendly ease and might lead to so much more. He saw himself smiling, laughing, even with…his destined bride. And he saw his pensive study of Tess as he explained about the memory retrieval…
Wow, so um, do you remember like actual people, you know, like Michael and Isabel?
Yeah. More like their energy than what anyone actually looks like.
Right, what about Tess?
Yeah, I remember her, too.
The memory retrieval… Sighing deeply, Max acknowledged that telling Liz about the memory retrieval was probably not the best idea. But it was almost like he’d had no choice. The experience was simply too important for him not to tell her. He hadn’t been thinking, he’d simply needed to share it with her. He’d needed to see her reaction, get her opinion, her…understanding, in order to make it real somehow. Or maybe he was looking for it to be acceptable. He didn’t know anymore. He didn’t know anything anymore. And the only person who had ever been able to help him make sense of his life wanted nothing to do with him.
Liz had claimed to miss him, but even after New York she’d held herself away from him. A polite acquaintance. But he’d taken her offer of friendship at face value. Because he’d missed her. Because as much as his heart cried out for the passion of her kiss, his soul cried out for the easy rapport that had always marked their relationship. After years of keeping secrets and guarding every word, he missed the freedom to say what he was thinking and know that she would accept it. And him. She might not agree, but she’d never turn him away. Until, of course, she had. And even after all the revelations of tonight, he couldn’t help thinking that if only there was a way to explain…
Explain what? The temptation to forego ‘Max Evans, Human Failure’ in favor of losing himself in ‘Zahn the Great, King of Antar’? How could he explain that Tess was safe? Zahn’s spectral memories of Ava were almost comforting, in that regard. They told him that there was no way that Tess would ever be able to hurt him, not the way Liz had. Because Tess had no real claim to his heart. She’d never make his soul come alive with joy or contentment, she’d never complete him the way Liz did. But she’d never shatter him either. There were moments when he was willing to accept that. And moments when his entire being cried out against the loneliness.
But that’s what he was left with. There was no more room for explanation. Liz didn’t want him to explain, she wanted him with…Tess.
Only she didn’t. Max had felt that too. Felt her almost overwhelming need for him to find out, to fix what his future self had broken. His pride pulled him back before hope or stupidity, whichever was on special tonight, could bloom fully in his breast. She may have wished for him to know, but Liz had been utterly dedicated to keeping him from finding out, utterly certain that her course and his ignorance was necessary. The right thing to do, Max acknowledged bitterly. Utterly content to let him live in agony.
Herself, too.
Pushing and pulling. Max shook his head angrily. Now he was doing it to himself, running in circles that led nowhere! And he was so tired suddenly. He almost hated Liz for the flashes she’d been unable to control, and for stealing his anger, for it left him without the comfort of a legitimate target. With no real argument left, Max allowed his battered pride to concede the battle to his broken heart. His rancor faded, leaving him nothing but a stark, empty bitterness.
And the truth.
Why had he ever thought that the truth could be kind? That it would fix anything? Any foolish hope Max may have cherished of happy endings and true love conquering all, had finished a slow death tonight. Along with his naïve belief that he’d found proof that he did belong here, on this planet. All he’d ever wanted was to belong. To find home. He hadn’t found it through the lens of a telescope or in the memories of someone he never chose to be. He hadn’t even found it in the arms of his mother. But he’d felt it. For one brief moment he’d felt it in Liz’s tight embrace as they clung to each other through the night on that bus. He’d seen it in the loving depths of her eyes. And even as she’d held stubbornly fast to her belief that he needed to follow his destiny, he’d seen that same promise of contentment lighting her eyes behind the omnipresent shadows. Liz was safety and warmth and love. Home. She was his future.
We eloped. We were 19…
Nothing comes between us ever again…
And she was lost to him. The truth roared coldly through Max’s soul, leaving him numb and unsurprised. Truth, he decided idly, was a bitch. He had been a fool to seek such an indiscriminate principle. There was no magic in the truth. It held no power to banish pain or to fix what had been broken. Max shook his head in hollow amusement. How ridiculous, to think that the truth would corroborate everything his heart had always whispered as gospel, instead of affirming every one of his darkest fears. The truth was, he and Liz didn’t belong together. They never had. He didn’t even belong on this planet.
Last edited by Pathos on Wed Apr 16, 2003 2:26 am, edited 1 time in total.
The fact that we are fools is duly noted...
But must that be our epitaph?
-SRC
I'd be an idiot if I weren't less than pleased about being doomed.
Serena sighed. With her head resting heavily on the rolled towel there was little for her to do, except stare up at the dirty ceiling tile above the tub in yet another nondescript motel bathroom. If she believed in God she’d have been on her knees thanking Him for the fact that they’d finally made it to Roswell. It was almost dawn and every muscle in her body ached, but at least she could take comfort in the fact that tomorrow wouldn’t bring another brain numbingly long stretch of highway to endure along with it. Not to mention that when she hit town tomorrow to do a little recon, she’d finally be able to leave her behind. Letting her head roll to the side, Serena studied the locked bathroom door as she wondered briefly what Ava was doing to keep herself occupied. She gave up the pursuit when she remembered that she didn’t care. Frankly, she’d had enough of the blonde to last the rest of her life. In fact, she was suddenly certain that Ava was the one who should be on her knees thanking God. Cause it was for damn sure the next thing to a fuckin’ miracle that her alien ass hadn’t been kicked out of the car somewhere around Ohio.
Sinking a little deeper into the bathwater, Serena closed her eyes and tried to let the heat ease some of the tension left over from the cross country road trip from hell. Yet, even as her body relaxed, Serena was hard pressed to say that she felt better. Hard pressed to say that she felt anything, really. Except, of course, the same desperate purpose that had been driving her for the last six months. Shaking her head a little, Serena tried to clear her mind as she reached over the side of the tub and sought blindly for one of the two bottles resting on the bathroom floor. It was her own nightly variation on the theme of Russian Roulette. Jack, Coke…Jack, Coke…and the winner is… She sighed heavily as her fingers brushed against the plastic bottle of soda, completely missing the cool, thick glass of the Jack Daniels bottle. Idly, she allowed a brief, internal debate about the difference between Murphy’s Law and Divine Intervention. Semantics, she decided. Like so many other fucking things in life, it all came down to semantics.
Taking a long swallow of the Coke, Serena wished there was a way to make the caffeine kick in more quickly. But then, mainlining soda had never really been her thing. She could feel the heavy promise of sleep lulling her tired soul even more than the hot water, but she fought the impulse. The problem with sleep was the inevitable dream. And the problem with dreaming was…that she invariably woke up. And she wasn’t ready for that. Probably never would be. As unwilling as ever to give in the weakness of tears, Serena waved her hand at the portable radio and pumped the volume.
Would you know my name?
If I saw you in heaven?
Fuck Eric Clapton. Waving her hand at the radio once again, Serena flipped the dial and ran through the local stations, stopping when she caught the sound of a thrumming bass line and deep, vengefully pragmatic voice that spoke to her soul. Kenny Wayne Shepard Band. Perfect. She could relax and still stay awake.
Night.
Falls.
I’m alone.
Skin
Yeah, chilled me to the bone
You, turned and you ran, oh yeah
Oh, slipped right from my hand
Hey
Blue on Black
Tears on a river
Push on a shove, it don’t mean much
Relaxing to the music, Serena found herself sliding more deeply into the tub, the weight of her wet hair coiling thickly around her throat. And then her hair wasn’t wet. And she wasn’t in the tub. So much for staying awake, she acknowledged ruefully.
Feeling an odd combination of nervousness and excitement fluttering through the pit of her stomach, Serena forced herself to open her eyes and check out this latest dreamscape. It wasn’t the same as the night before, it never was, but it only took her a second to place the current setting. The group home. The first one. Tilting her head a little, she studied the nine year old version of herself currently curled into a tight ball on the small cot pushed up against the far wall. Considering the fact that the little girl was facing the wall it was difficult to place the memory in time, hard to know why that particular moment was haunting her tonight.
More disturbing than the memory however was the fact that Zan had yet to show himself, even though he had to know that Serena could feel him, just as she always could. While he may not be with her, the shadow of his presence seemed lodged forever within her soul, a fact which offered the only comfort she would accept. And, in the dreams at least, she could forget that his continued presence was also the sharp, taunting reminder of everything she’d lost. But usually he joined her in the dreamscape much more quickly. What was he waiting for? Why tonight?
Serena’s attention was drawn once more to her dream self when the little girl rolled over slowly, moaning a little against the pain. Right. So it was that night. Serena took a deep breath as she studied herself critically. Lately, she’d begun to wonder exactly whose memory controlled the dreamscapes, hers…or Zan’s. Often the point of view seemed oddly skewed and she found herself seeing something as if for the first time, discovering something new in a memory that was years old. And sometimes she glimpsed a shared image the way Zan had always described it, instead of the way she remembered it. But there was no mistaking this memory. And no mistaking that it was hers.
Serena could remember curling herself into that little human ball huddling just across the dream. She could remember pulling the threadbare sheet up over her face, though she was too old to really believe that Lucas wouldn’t be able to see her, even if she couldn’t see him. And more than that, she remembered searching for a comfortable way to hide her battered face against the pillow. But there hadn’t been one to find, and the ache in her jaw continued unabated though it had been at least an hour since the last blow. Serena closed her eyes, remembering suddenly how she’d done just that on that long ago night eight years ago. Hadn’t helped then, either. Just made her dizzy.
What was it Zan had always said? That she had more attitude than sense? Shaking her head a little, Serena flashed back to the idiotic impulse that had led to her punishment. What had she been thinking, asking Lucas how he saw where he was going with his head stuck so far up his ass? Fucker hadn’t even stopped to admire the sophistication of the insult, as her father would have done, before he started wailing on her. But then, you reap what you sow, that’s what her father would have said.
“More add’tude ‘en sense…” Zan muttered darkly.
Serena shook her head, opening her eyes to Zan’s younger self joining the dreamscape as he snuck into the room. She saw herself roll back over to face the wall, a vain and desperate attempt to get him to leave her alone so she could bleed in peace. And then she saw Zan roll his eyes in reaction to her attempt to avoid him. She couldn’t remember ever seeing that, before. All she remembered was the burning humiliation of knowing that he knew what had just happened to her. He knew she’d been beaten, and she could only imagine what he now thought of her. Her shame eclipsed everything, even the warm thrill of accomplishment that came with his speaking to her for the first time.
They’d spent the last two weeks in the same group home. And from the moment Zan had laid eyes on her, Serena found herself locked in a strangely symbiotic battle of wills with him. A strangely symbiotic, silent battle of wills. Looking back, it was hard to believe that she’d put up with those two weeks of his heavy, soundless regard. It wasn’t like her to simply wait out an opponent. But she’d done just that, simply returning his gaze, stare for stare, almost daring him to actually speak to her. Most of the others ignored him, leaving him to the isolation he sought. But Serena had been unable to do that. And whenever she lost the weight of his stare, she was almost drawn to seek him out. Drawn to speak with him, or at him, considering that he continued to remain stubbornly quiet, though she had convinced herself that his occasional smirk might be a sign of his softening. Whatever the case, they’d spent two weeks giving and gaining ground in that oddly safe, if silent, battle. And then he’d gone and chosen that moment to open his mouth and let her win. Serena rolled her eyes. Zan always did have the most interesting sense of timing.
The nine year old version of Zan tugged impatiently at the sheet that was pulled up over the young Serena’s head. “Serena, come on. I aint gonna be able ta help ‘nless you lemme see.”
“I don’t want you ta see. It’s ugly.”
“I seen worse.”
“I felt worse. Go away!”
Serena watched her younger self lose the tug of war with Zan, then move to sit up on her knees so she could glare at him face to face. She remembered not wanting to look at him, afraid of the disgust for her weakness, which she was sure to see on his face. But she hadn’t been able to help herself. And she hadn’t seen disgust.
“More add’tude ‘en sense.” Zan muttered again as he reached out to trace his fingers lightly across Serena’s cheek and jaw.
Serena took a deep breath. She remembered that touch. The gentleness of his fingers had completely belied the gruffness of his voice and she remembered being completely taken aback by the knowledge that touches could feel like that, even against a bruise. And then it was she who had fallen silent.
“Still got more add’tude ‘en sense.”
For a second, the seeming echo confused her, and then Serena felt his arms wrap around her from behind, pulling her tightly against his body. She ignored the conspicuous lack of the spark which previously, when he was…previously had always hyped their connection in the midst of that initial moment of physical contact. It didn’t matter, she told herself. Didn’t matter that without that heightened awareness her blood didn’t fire the way it should, her nerve endings didn’t tingle the way they should. It didn’t matter that her soul didn’t feel alive the way it should. Because he was here now. And that was all that mattered. It was all she’d let matter.
The dreamscape was oddly still, hushed now as young Zan shifted closer on to the bed and cupped the young Serena’s cheek. There was nothing carnal in the caress, but it bespoke a tenderness that a nine year old Serena hadn’t known how to interpret. “I’ma fix it.” He explained, the statement almost a request, his movements so slow that she could easily have stopped him. But she didn’t. Even when a delicious heat infused her skin, numbing the pain. Especially when a delicious heat infused her skin, numbing the pain. Unconsciously, her face turned into his palm, her confused midnight blue eyes seeking his own gaze. She didn’t understand, but in the honeyed depths of his eyes she found an unfamiliar safety. And the first brush of a mind almost as curious as her own. She gasped softly, it was almost as if…as if she could feel him…see him. Amazed, she wondered if he could feel her too, see her…she jerked away almost before the thought had completely unfolded in her mind, suddenly afraid.
“Why di’nt you trust me?” Zan asked, nodding pointedly at the memory playing out before them. The physical healing hadn’t taken long, but he remembered why the younger version of himself was hesitating to remove his hand from her face. It was the opportunity to satisfy two weeks worth of curiosity. Zan smiled briefly with his younger self. He remembered the way his fingers had brushed back one of Serena’s loose curls, remembered the sudden thrill of knowledge that the dark satin of her hair was as soft as he’d imagined. Zan sighed, watching the two children shift slightly away from each other. Even as he’d acquiesced to her desire and dropped his hand, he’d yearned for so much more than that one glimpse of her.
“I did.” Serena corrected softly, even as she watched her dream self retreat slightly . “I’ve always trusted you, I just di’nt want you ta…see me.”
“I always seen you, baby.” Zan replied softly, dropping his chin to rest against the top of her head and inhaling the faint scent of lavender as the silence, her familiar response to his assertion, stretched out. He wished there was time to make her see, but there wasn’t. Not anymore. “You’re hangin’ onta things you should be lettin’ go of.” Zan observed gently.
“Don’t start wit me.” Serena warned, stiffening in his embrace, though she was unwilling to leave the comfort of his arms.
“Why you thinkin’ ‘bout that?” Zan asked, with a pointed nod at them memory, stilled, now that it had played out before them.
“Just remembrin’.” Serena replied softly.
“Why that?” Zan pressed. “Aint like you need me ta…”
“I do need you.” Serena interrupted quickly. She knew where this conversation was headed. He pulled this same shit every night. Swallowing hard, she realized it was almost time to wake up. But not yet. Glancing over her shoulder, Serena tried to tease him into changing the subject. “What should I be remembrin’? The day Ricky Gonzalez had a basketball followin’ his ass everywhere he went?”
Zan shook his head, smiling against his will at the memory. He could still see Ricky jettin’ through the fuckin’ house with that basketball chasin’ him down like a chihuaha on speed. Ricky’d shouted to the roof about how the thing was possessed and he was cursed. Idiot hadn’t even noticed Serena following him around that whole time as well, her palm slightly extended as she controlled the ball. “Pure, evil genius.” Zan admitted, still vaguely impressed. “Kid thought he was fuckin’ loopy afta that.”
“Kid was fuckin’ loopy before that.” Serena muttered. She turned in Zan’s embrace, allowing herself the weakness of wrapping her arms around a dream and holding on for dear life.
Zan grinned. “No shit.” He resettled his chin atop her head, sighing at the way she clung to him. And unable to stop himself from clinging to her. But she couldn’t go on like this. Stepping suddenly from her embrace, Zan looked down into Serena’s wounded, midnight blue eyes and steeled himself for what he should have done months ago. The problem, of course, was that he could get lost so easily in those eyes. They made him forget…everything. Always had. Against his better judgment he reached out and cupped her chin, tracing one delicate cheekbone with his thumb.
Serena closed her eyes. “I miss you so much.” she admitted, suddenly unable to ignore the same truth that stretched between them every night. He wasn’t really here. And she was alone.
Zan gently tucked her hair behind her ear. “This aint good for you, Serena.” He said firmly, shaking his head when she refused to open her eyes, refused suddenly to even acknowledge that he was there. Fuck that. Gripping her shoulders, Zan gave her a light shake, satisfied when she opened her eyes, and almost grateful for the indignation lurking in their blue depths. “Serena, listen ta me, it’s time. It’s past time.”
Serena shook her head emphatically, pulling from his grip. “No. You promised me, you promised!” She pointed out brokenly, around her sudden inability to take a deep breath.
Zan took a deep breath. He had promised. And that was part of the problem. He knew he should simply go, knew it would be better to just rip the scab and let the infection heal…but he couldn’t. Because he was clinging to the idea that he was still the only one who could heal her as much as she was. Maybe more. Steeling himself, he tried again. “Serena… this aint good for you. I aint good for you. You gotta let go.”
Serena shook her head stubbornly. “Not tonight…latah!” She bargained. “Tomorra.” This was her dream damn it! Why didn’t it ever play out the way she wanted it to?
“Tomorra don’t eva come. You know that.”
“Good!”
“Not good.” Zan corrected. “You got things, tons a things you was meant ta do. Great things, but you need ta start doin’ ‘em.”
“The only thing I need ta do is finish wit this mess.” Serena replied.
“Let it go.” Zan ordered, frustrated and angry over his continued inability to sway her. That was enough, but coupled with his ever-present fear for her safety…it pushed him suddenly closer to insanity…assuming dead people could suffer from insanity. He shook his head. Every damn night she was like this! “I swear ta God, you could drive a saint ta happ’ly commit murder.” He muttered
“You aint a saint.”
“Serena…”
“No.”
“Damn it, you can’t win!” Zan shouted in exasperation. “You can’t fuckin’ win.”
Serena shrugged. “Aint gotta win. I’ma settle for a draw.”
Zan’s eyes narrowed. “Serena…” he drew her name out in warning, his temper sparking further when she turned away from him.
“What?” Serena shook her head tiredly as she turned to walk away, her lungs constricting painfully in an effort to hold back her tears. What did he want from her? And why did they always have to end these dreams in the same fight?
“This aint you!” Zan growled, pulling Serena back around to face him. But she slipped through his fingers, already fading from the dream.
“I aint been me since the day you left.” Serena whispered.
Serena!
She sat up slowly, ignoring the haunting echo of her name and breaking the surface of the bathwater to slowly allow air back into her burning lungs. Note to self, she thought, feeling vaguely removed from herself, don’t fall asleep in the bathtub.
Blind, oh
Now I see
Truth, lies
And in between
Wrong
Can’t be undone
Oh, slipped
From the tip of your tongue
Hey
Blue on black
Tears on a river
Push or a shove
It don’t mean much
Joker on Jack
Match on a fire
Cold on ice
It’s a dead man’s touch
Whisper on a scream
Doesn’t change a thing
Doesn’t bring you back
Yeah
Blue on black
Serena shook her head. Fuckin’ semantics.
****************************
“Look, just drop whatever shit ya got goin’ on and get here!” Ava demanded, darting a furtive glance at the bathroom door. She exhaled a silent sigh of relief, grateful that Serena was still peacefully ignoring her.
“Drop the fuckin’ act , ho. You aint the Queen Bitch no more, an’ if ya think I’m gonna start obeyin’ your ass now…” Rath snorted.
Ava nodded a little as Rath did exactly as she’d hoped he would. Which was the exact opposite of what she’d said she wanted. Good. That would give her a little more time, at least. For what…she didn’t know. But one damn problem at a time. And for now…just to be on the safe side… “I, I’m sorry, Rath.” Ava said quickly, adding a tremor to her voice and letting him hear the fear. She knew he’d like that, she just wished she knew whether not she was pretending. “I just…I aint big on this no more. I think it’d be better if ya jus’ skipped whateva ya got in da works and got here.” She held her breath as the silence lengthened.
“Ya aint trying to pull none a that reverse psycho shit wit me, are ya?” Rath asked suspiciously.
Ava felt a cold shiver prick her spine at his sudden shrewdness. To say that she was surprised by Rath’s…thinking would have been the understatement of the century. Apparently having Lonnie be the brains of the operation was a sign of laziness, not stupidity.. “What’re you talking ‘bout?” she asked, playing dumb.
“Nuthin. Forget it. I’ll be there when I get there. Don’t fuck up.”
With trembling hands, Ava quickly replaced the receiver in the cradle, grateful that Rath had simply let go of his misgivings and then hung up. She wished it were as easy to get rid of her own. She had the uncomfortable feeling that Serena had underestimated him. And it was likely that they’d both pay for that.
*************************************
Squaring her shoulders, Liz continued up the rocky path that led to the pod chamber. She was grateful that she’d thought to change her shoes, though she wished she’d had the foresight to bring a flashlight. More than halfway up the path, she halted, wondering vaguely if she ought to go back and get one. Along with a pair of jeans. And maybe a sweater… “Quit stalling!” Liz muttered sternly to herself, taking a deep breath. But she couldn’t quite bring herself to move. Instead she stared up to the apex of the rock where Max sat, unmoving as he stared out into the darkness. She knew that he was aware of her presence, but he made no move to acknowledge her. And as the minutes ticked by under the weight of his considered disregard, Liz found herself questioning the intelligence of her decision to follow him. Steadying her quaking nerves, Liz forced herself to start moving again, proceeding slowly, one foot in front of the other as she fought the sudden impulse to run back to the car. And the sudden pressing belief that this was a mistake. There was no way Max was going to listen to her. He wouldn’t even look at her!
Staring intently at the cold brightness of the stars, Max struggled against the weight of Liz’s presence. He wanted to ignore her, half certain that if he did, she would just walk away. Which would be better for both of them because he had yet to move past the devastation that lingered from their earlier conversation, much less the bitterness of his own musings. And he wasn’t in the mood to be polite. Sighing inwardly, Max concentrated on the quiet sounds of the desert night while stubbornly ignoring the loud crunch of Liz’s footsteps as she made her way towards him. She was just a few feet away when he lost the battle to remain aloof. Shifting against the rock, Max turned to look up into her face. His breath caught painfully in his throat when he caught her expression, stark and luminous in the glow of the moonlight. Without a word his mouth closed on what he was about to say. None of the things he’d been thinking seemed appropriate now, in the face of her obvious vulnerability. And standing there in her gown and sneakers, gasping softly from the exertion of having just climbed a rock in the middle of the night to reach him…Max shook his head, feeling even more defeated. Why did she have to look so beautiful?
“Hi.” Liz began softly.
Max nodded curtly, the sound of her voice breaking his momentary restraint. “That’s something I never thought I’d see,” He observed sharply, bitterness stealing the victory of her presence. “You…walking back up the hill.”
Liz’s breath caught painfully in her throat at the taunt, but she met Max’s shuttered gaze defiantly. He was trying to look through her, to act as if he didn’t care that she was there. The optimism that had buoyed her resolve and carried her this far would have collapsed…had he not been failing miserably in the attempt. “Max…”
“Doesn’t you being here screw up time, or something?” Max interrupted, the question echoing snidely through his own conscience. Unable to ignore the aching regret he read in Liz’s eyes, Max turned back to his perusal of the night sky, feeling ashamed and wary all at once. He wished she’d waited. He wasn’t ready to see her, yet. But either she didn’t realize this, or she didn’t care, because she didn’t appear to be leaving. Sighing, Max turned back to Liz, waiting for her next move and biting back an apology. He wasn’t ready for that, either.
Liz rallied, relaxing slightly at the regret she read in Max’s eyes. She could almost feel the apology he was fighting. “Not tonight.” She answered, pausing to steel herself for what could be the biggest rejection of her life. “Tonight time doesn’t exist. Just…us. Tonight is ours…if, if you want it.” Biting her lip, Liz waited, wondering if Max would be willing to give them the next five minutes, much less the rest of the night. And the longer the silence stretched between them, the more convinced she became that he would simply tell her to go to hell.
Max stared at Liz. Against his will he felt the sudden weighted importance of this moment, and a dull lurch in the region of his heart at the mention of ‘us’. He wanted her to leave. And he wanted her to stay, if only her presence would stop hurting so much. And more than that, he wanted to shout at her. But that would have been churlish in the face of her stillness, so he remained silent. Because, he told himself, he didn’t want to frighten her. And because, if he were being completely honest…he could never send her away. Not even when he wanted to. But he wasn’t going to beg her to stay, either. “How’d you find me?”
Liz released the breath she’d been holding at his politely neutral question.. “I just knew.” She said softly, hesitating as she stared down at Max. It wasn’t the invitation she’d been hoping for, but he hadn’t told her to go to hell. Yet. “Can I sit down?”
Max shrugged, watching through hooded eyes as Liz sat down next to him. Graceful and silent. And close. So close. Her prom dress fell against his legs as it battled the easy night breeze. Though they had yet to touch.
“Hi.” Liz began again.
“Hi.” Max replied softly, his voice barely carrying the whisper to her ear.
It was a start.
Last edited by Pathos on Thu May 08, 2003 3:09 pm, edited 4 times in total.
The fact that we are fools is duly noted...
But must that be our epitaph?
-SRC
I'd be an idiot if I weren't less than pleased about being doomed.
Taking a deep breath as the silence settled around them, Liz let her legs dangle over the edge of the rock next to Max’s. She wished she could say that it was a comfortable silence but guessed she’d have to settle for describing it as a tense stillness. And sitting there, seemingly suspended above the world with only Max’s presence to convince her that she hadn’t been lost to the surrounding darkness of the night, she wondered vaguely if they’d ever find their way to tomorrow. Or if this lingering isolation was all that was left for them. Biting her lip, Liz studied the stars, mapping the constellations absently as she tried to think of a way to start the conversation she’d driven twenty minutes, and climbed a small mountain to have. Nothing. Liz studied Max covertly, her eyes safely masked by her lowered lashes as she wondered what he was using to occupy his mind. The look on his face gave nothing away, and minutes later she was still uncertain how to begin. And the silence was still uncomfortable. And she couldn’t bear it anymore. “Do you believe me?” Liz asked abruptly, turning to study Max as she pulled her legs up and folded them under her. She figured that there was no harm in skipping the small talk and jumping right in. It’s not like there was any more damage that could be done.
Max shrugged listlessly, staring out into the night and refusing to meet her expectant gaze. He simply couldn’t. “I’m an alien living in Roswell, why not time travel?”
Liz shook her head. “No, not about that. About, about not having a choice when I did…what I did. Max, do you believe that I didn’t want to hurt you?” She swallowed hard as Max paused, glancing at her briefly before taking another moment to consider his answer. And as he considered, Liz found herself struggling against tears. The answer was clear, though he’d yet to utter a word. I believe in you. Only he didn’t, not anymore. Even that one quick glance had been enough to show her the desolation lurking in his eyes. And she knew. His faith had been as battered as her own and now…now he couldn’t believe her. And he didn’t understand anything, except that the most important decision he’d ever made in his life suddenly seemed…wrong.
“I want to believe you. “ Max said finally, lifting his gaze to Liz’s face. He shrugged helplessly, steeling himself against the regret swimming in her tear filled eyes. Why did he feel like he’d just betrayed them? What was he supposed to have said?
I believe in you.
Liz closed her eyes, but that did nothing to ease the sight of the soul deep confusion that lit Max’s eyes. She realized suddenly that his sense of self had been as mutilated as her own. She may have saved the world, but they were still dangerously close to destroying each other. Liz opened her eyes, biting her lip a little as Max’s lost expression cut to the very heart of herself. She refused to believe that it was too late. She could fix this, for both of them, but only…only if there were no more secrets. No more lies. But she knew that words would never convince him. Their truth lay where it always had, beyond words, captured in the speaking hearts of two souls. And because she had no earthly way of making him see what he needed to see, or understand everything that had happened, Liz took the only route left open to her.
“Max…” Leaning forward, Liz gripped his shoulder, finding her balance as she tried to capture his gaze. “Max, you have to look at me…” she whispered.
Max shook his head, closing his eyes in an attempt to still the images that he knew awaited him below the surface of her gaze, lingering like land mines within the beautiful depths of her eyes. He’d seen enough. He couldn’t see any more, not tonight. “Liz, I can’t, just…” His protest stilled and his eyes flew open at the shock of her lips colliding roughly with his own.
Liz felt her heart sink as her fingers moved to grip the lapels of Max’s tuxedo jacket. Everything she wanted to show him roiled just below the surface of her kiss, but he remained deliberately oblivious. Pressing her lips more fiercely against his own, Liz desperately willed them to soften under hers, desperately willed his participation in the kiss. But he may as well have been cast in marble, for there was neither the warm yielding of a response nor even the willingness to grant her the favor of his cooperation. She’d never dreamed a kiss could be so lonely. Her stubborn belief that she could make him see, somehow make this right between them, began to cool under the unyielding chill of his lips.
Lifting her head, Liz let her lips hover a scant inch above Max’s own, finally gaining the upper hand in their silent tug of war when he raised his eyes to hers. She wasn’t sure if it was the shadowed darkness of the desert or the desolation written so clearly across his face which cast his handsome features so harshly…and she didn’t care. Faded hope aside, their last kiss couldn’t be like this. Couldn’t be a mere gesture between two strangers. She wouldn’t let it be, damn it! “Max, please…”
Reaching backward, Max braced one strong arm against the rocky soil, steadying them both as Liz’s slight weight remained pressed firmly against him. An agony he couldn’t bear and wouldn’t refuse. He reached for her, cursing himself as he struggled against the siren call of her whisper and the temptation to give in. Nothing good could come of this. She’d made her feelings clear and the kiss she offered was a mere a fable, a dream he’d eventually have no choice but to awaken from. So why couldn’t he let her go? Why did the fingers clutching her arm not push her away, as he’d intended? He allowed his gaze to stay locked with her own, hoping she’d acknowledge his plea for mercy. For peace. “Liz, don’t do this. I can’t.” Max said in a hoarse attempt to clarify what he was feeling. But it seemed Liz Parker had long ago become cold to mercy. And his feelings.
Liz hesitated, her soul constricting painfully at the bitter conflict raging in Max’s eyes. She almost pulled away, almost left him to the night, as he so clearly wished she would. But the strong fingers gripping her upper arm held her motionless, poised on the brink of…disaster? Or was it redemption? She recognized the desolation shadowing Max’s beautiful amber eyes and understood the isolation that threatened to keep him from everything, everyone that mattered. It was the same thing she saw when she looked in the mirror, the same familiar pain. And it had haunted them both for too long now. Liz was suddenly swimming in the immediacy of her memory, drowning in the pain of every moment that had scarred them both. If only Max could see…he needed to see, she thought desperately. And so did she. Unable to stop herself, Liz pressed her lips once more to his.
Max gasped into the sudden crushing weight of her kiss. He’d thought she was about to pull away. And the odd despair that had swept his soul instead of the expected relief left him vulnerable to the sudden, commanding presence of Liz Parker raging through his soul. His fingers tightened convulsively around her arm, the impulse to push her away lost in the movement that pulled her to him. It was already too late to let go.
Stunned, Max struggled to grasp the fullness of the live connection that was suddenly flowing between them. It was like nothing he’d ever felt before. This onslaught was neither passion, nor desire, but raw, fragile, aching need. Liz’s need for him to see…everything. Her frantic need for him to understand, accept, know… all of her. She was as open to him as she’d ever been, Max realized, his entire being shocked to stillness with the revelation. She was more than open, for it wasn’t simply that she no longer held herself away from him. The door to her soul had been flung wide, hiding nothing and consciously offering every part of herself , if only he wished to accept it. The sheer breadth of this new connection defied comparison. Even the flashes that always accompanied the easy breach of their normal barriers couldn’t explain it. This was so much more. This was Liz Parker actively luring him in to the very heart of herself. This wasn’t simply a glimpse of her soul…this was her, so immediate that she may as well have been him, or he, her. He wasn’t certain, all he knew were the deep, roiling emotions that tore through him, touching every fiber of his being. Lighting him from the inside out with the naked portrait of who she was.
Liz…
The memory of his future self’s arrival at her window ripped through Max, leaving him reeling with the sudden tense fear that had risen to the surface as soon as she saw him. She’d thought at first that their enemies were trying to lure her away using his face. And then, after he’d convinced her of who he was…she’d been even more terrified. And with an odd prescience, she’d begun to say goodbye, even before she’d understood the need to let go.
You’re the love of my life…
I’m going to be alone…
Why can’t you come with me…
Her memory, her being rolled through him and Max found himself falling, surrendering himself to the weight of her boundless strength and agonizing fragility. The cowardly part of himself wanted to break the contact, to hide behind the bitterness that earlier, had offered an illusory safety. But that was simply…impossible in the face of her offering. This was the truth he’d craved since he’d seen her with Kyle. Her stark honesty and the open rapport that had always marked the two of them together…it was what he’d needed since she’d run from him the day his destiny had been announced almost a lifetime ago. The truth. Painful and shattering, but real. Honest.
Liz.
And so Max held on, all thought of retreat lost in the sheer drop to the veracious depths of her soul. He couldn’t retreat, not when he felt the…love that continued to thread her memories of him together. He couldn’t stay furious in the face of her own crushing anger, her own anguished regret over the things she’d done to protect the world. The things she’d done for him. Pulled so deeply inside her, Max felt his own heart lurch with the shadow of her fear. He wanted to reassure her, suddenly. Wanted to let her know that he wouldn’t leave her alone, never again. She wouldn’t have to be alone with the weight of this responsibility, which she’d never asked for. And didn’t want.
Maybe this is for the best…
Max felt his own heart echo her wrenching denial, never voiced to his future self because she believed in him. And, God…she still did. Through the pain she’d endured, through his silence and his coldness…she still did. And the feel of her spirit, hovering just beyond his own, almost holding its breath to see if it would be accepted, obliterated the distance he’d traveled from her over the course of the night. Unable to stop himself, Max let his hand slide from her upper arm to the slope of her shoulder, and then to the warm, soft skin of her back. He felt her delicate shiver as his fingers moved tentatively to the small of her back, his arm curving around her, pulling her steadily closer until she was flush against his body.
Max moaned against her lips, needing more from the kiss…needing…his brows furrowed in vague confusion as he realized that something was missing. And then he felt her calling to him…reaching for him in a way she never had before. And with an intuition untapped before that moment, he understood. He knew why the kiss was oddly incomplete, knew what was missing…himself. It was an odd relief, to know that this kiss wasn’t merely a surrender, but rather a soul deep plea for …what, exactly? Simple contact? Or was it deeper, the promise of the communion he’d almost forgotten? Or was it the completion he’d only begun to imagine? Whatever it was…was so very much more than the half life they’d been existing in. Liz had shown him everything and now she needed to see. He needed her to see. And so he did as she asked, and his own soul demanded. Instinctively, Max opened himself to her, letting loose the torrent of emotion he’d been fighting all night and feeling an odd, cleansing relief as his soul rushed to meet hers, head on, without restraint.
Liz’s gasp was lost in the sudden fullness of their kiss. Tears of relief flooded her eyes at the stunning intensity of his response. It had been so long since she’d felt…him. So long since she’d felt whole. And the well remembered feel of his soul captivated her, just as it always had. And yet, this was so much more. She was vaguely shocked by the unfamiliar complexity of the image roaring through her mind, enthralling her very being with its presence. Unfamiliar, but never frightening. This was Max. Her mind marveled at the odd, all encompassing scope of their shared connection. She’d never been this close to him, never seen this much of him. Even that early glimpse he’d offered of himself was merely a shadowed sketch of who he was compared to the whispering mural of his soul, now displayed before her.
The sudden rush of Max’s presence was overwhelming, the rush of bitter pain which detailed it, even more so. And threaded amongst the gentle strength of his character and the loving protectiveness of his nature was the harsh fear of the unknown, of the future, the past…himself. Lost, adrift almost at the very heart of who Max was, Liz felt the unresolved fear which had shaped him in ways she’d never even imagined. Her own heart trembled with the stark unveiling of his soul, understanding instinctively that Max offered her an extraordinary gift, an extraordinary trust. And in the face of the almost crippling uncertainty she could also sense, Liz found herself unable to do anything but offer the complete safety of her embrace. Her lips trembled under his as he took command of their kiss, her emotions tumbling against his in an inexplicable give and take which left her dazed and tasting the dusty tears from a lifetime ago.
But…you mean everything to me…
Liz, wait…
Liz felt her heart thud painfully against her ribs…she’d never let herself see beyond her own heartbreak. But now her remembrance of that day was obscured by the searing pain of Max’s perspective. Her lips parted against his and Liz gasped in a quick breath as she felt the pressure of his horrified fear constricting her lungs. She’d run from him that day, as if he were a monster, confirming with her desertion the opinion of Hubble, the FBI…himself. He hadn’t followed her down that hill, but he felt like he’d been chasing her ever since, small pieces of his heart falling away as she continued to turn and run from him. And then it shattered, leaving his sense of self lost somewhere in the debris, the night he thought he’d convinced her to stop running.
Tears coursed down Liz’s cheeks as she relived that night with him. For her, it had begun and ended as painfully as she’d expected. But for him…her heart ached for the oddly weightless sense of optimism that had buoyed his spirit that night. He’d been so sure, so certain that it was the night that everything was going to go back to the way it should be. She was relenting. He’d known it, felt it, even in that last kiss in Whitacker’s office. He’d stepped from the jeep, slapping the Gomez tickets lightly against his thigh as he walked, his mood so hopeful, oddly innocent even in the face of all they’d endured. Until the moment he looked in her window.
Their shared memories of all that had led to that night, and everything that had happened since, rose to the forefront of their minds, clashing with pained discord. And the promised symmetry of their deepening connection was thrown against the reality of too many months of misunderstanding…all stemming from a moment that was never meant to be. Max could feel the crushing pain of that moment, knew once again the burning pressure in his lungs as he’d forgotten to breathe. The moment had stretched on into every moment of tomorrow, and tomorrow as she’d continued to lie to him. It was unbearable. Only it wasn’t.
Because he hadn’t ever really been alone.
Burrowing more closely into Max’s embrace, Liz slid her fingers from his jacket to the heat of his body underneath. With one arm draped around his neck, she brushed her other hand over the warm skin bared at his throat, where the first few buttons of his shirt had come apart when he’d torn the bow tie from his neck. She was suddenly aware of the fact that she was straddling his thighs, nestled against him, holding on through the tumult of his soul’s remembrance as her own memory surfaced, offering a bitter understanding in place of the security that seemed suddenly out of their reach. And yet they remained somehow connected, their souls twined torturously around one another, giving and receiving within the stream of memory that they both wished to forget.
And suddenly, Liz knew what it was to be transported back in time. The night was reborn in the haunted expectation that lingered in the air, seeping into her skin. It fired the smoldering embers of Max’s jealousy with the picture of her betrayal. It chilled Liz’s blood with the snapshot of a dying planet. For a long moment her agonized guilt tripped the steady beat of his heart and his shattered understanding caught her breath in her throat. That night had begun to define them. For such very different reasons. For her, the agony of success. For him, the desolation of failure. And then their confused purposes merged, existing suddenly within an unfamiliar comprehension
Oddly, Liz remembered picking up the Gomez tickets later that night, and putting them carefully with the photo strip of the two of them. It was strange to realize now that he didn’t even remember dropping them. In fact, his memory was oddly devoid of anything but tinkling laughter and the sight of bare flesh. For a moment he hadn’t even recognized Kyle, only that she was in bed. With someone who wasn’t him.
Liz had never doubted the fact that there was no greater burden than knowledge…until now. Until she felt the crushing weight of not knowing. Max’s desperate search for some reason in the midst of the unreasonable tore at her conscience and...God! The things he’d thought of and then discarded to explain her actions, the blame and responsibility he’d placed on his own shoulders, long before he learned of his future self. Without a conscious command, Liz felt something deep inside reach out to him, pulling him to her in uncertain comfort as she’d been helpless to do that night. Her heart beat faster as she felt him respond in kind. She needed him with her, as she’d needed him then. As he’d needed her. Together they relived the heart stopping instant that their eyes met, that briefest of moments when each of them had hovered on the edge of the nightmare, praying to be awakened before the reality could consume them. And when that failed, praying to survive, whole and unharmed. It hadn’t been a nightmare. And though they’d survived, they’d been neither whole nor unharmed. Together they relived the burning intake of air into lungs that suddenly needed to be forced into service, as the very fabric of who they were was rent somewhere down the middle.
And then their memory rediscovered tonight, relived the haunting fear that had shadowed every move they’d made from the moment their eyes first met. Max struggled against Liz’s choking belief that he was drawn to Tess, that he was beginning to believe that they were meant to be. He wrapped his arms more tightly around her, willing the fear from their connection, willing her to see that Destiny held no temptation with her in his arms. Liz sighed into their kiss. She would have been all too happy to accept the comfort Max offered had she not been fighting the dark fear still secreted away within his own soul. The fear that had almost brought him to his knees earlier tonight when she had unknowingly affirmed its truth. He was a monster. It was the only thing that explained it. She was suffocating. And it was his fault. His greatest fear, elevated to a numbing certainty with the knowledge that her soul was slowly dying simply because of who he was, what he was. She was suffocating because…he loved her and couldn’t let go..
Liz felt her heart scream out a denial, attempt an explanation and then subside. There was no changing the way he’d felt, no forcing it away with logic or a hearts debate. It was a part of him, just as her own pain was a part of her. And without right or wrong, without a side to take, all Liz could do was accept. Accept his feelings, accept the truth of his soul. Accept him. And with her acceptance came the familiar warmth of Max’s trust, the heady feeling of his lost control as his soul threaded more fully through hers, carrying with it a raging torrent of emotion.
I haven’t slept since I saw you with Kyle…
We never lied to each other, never kept a secret from each other…
The conclusions he’d drawn…the desolation that had yet to remove its clawing grip from his soul, Liz felt it all, shared it all. Wished for the cowardice to retreat from him in the face of it all. But she couldn’t. His response, so long in coming deserved no less respect than he’d given to her feelings. Even now, he was bearing the weight of her heartbreak, and only now, as she accepted his own did she feel him finding some balance, shifting away from the position teetering at the brink of oblivion. He’d almost been lost to her. Almost been lost! Liz whimpered against her hearts dull ache. She couldn’t lose him. Her fingers splayed wide over the beat of his heart, needing to verify that he was real, needing to know that this was real. And then she relaxed as Max’s heart responded in kind, tightening around hers as the accusation of the past gave way to forgiveness. And the future. The roar of their connection shifted to become lighter, deeper. It seemed part of some natural progression, a steady movement to each other which they were both helpless to deny.
I think I need a friend…
Finally, breathing heavily and panting for air, finally they reached the truest part of themselves. Beyond the pain, beyond the secrets they’d harbored, and beyond even the truths they’d learned tonight…it was a simplicity glimpsed only once, and all too briefly that one night in an abandoned van. They hadn’t been able to be there for each other before, but now…now Liz couldn’t even imagine a time when they wouldn’t be somehow tangled in each other. As they were in that instant. Knowing, being, existing…together.
I love you
Max let himself get lost in the feeling, in the unwavering love and acceptance that was streaming across their connection. Forgiveness came suddenly, and as easily as…letting go of the past, as simply as looking to the future. Threading his fingers through the dark silk of Liz’s hair, Max felt the weight of her palm steadying the rapid beat of his heart. This was what mattered. Everything else could go to hell. There was only the two of them. Giddily, he gave a passing thought to the possibility that there was no separating them now…good.
There was no distinction between them anymore, nothing but the truth that echoed across the gossamer steel of the connection they both felt so tangibly all of a sudden, though it had been a part of them for minutes now…or had it been a lifetime? And they both understood, however long since it’s inception…that it was unfinished. Incomplete.
Without conscious thought, they reached for completion, reached for the hope. And the promise of more to come. Awed, they took the step that promised more even, than this all encompassing communion. Shuddering deeply against the heat of the spark that electrified them both Max and Liz clung even more tightly to one another. The sudden, instinctive drive towards…towards whole offering an odd sort of blessing.
It was the permission that Max had been waiting for.
It was the promise that Liz had been dreading.
Shaking suddenly, with the effort of convincing him…convincing herself to slow down, Liz fought for the self control to pull away. Oddly though, it was Max who broke the kiss. “Max?” Liz breathed, panicked as their connection faded to a low hum with all the subtlety of a slamming door. After having been so deeply entwined with him, the sudden cold isolation of being alone in her own skin was simply more than she could bear, more than she wanted to bear. Even the air between them was a hindrance. Gripping his tuxedo shirtfront Liz pulled him to her, lips a breath away from touching as she captured his gaze. Her reward was the immediate flare of their connection, the feel of him wrapped around her even without the intimacy of the kiss. As if it were a part of them, drawing them together, binding them, cementing…Oh, God. The striking realization was enough to return her to sanity. She blinked, knowing he could read her shattered wonder in the depths of her eyes…just as she felt it in the very depths of his soul.
For the first time in months, Max felt vaguely like himself. Panting for air, he clung to the security of Liz, held tightly in his arms, her soul still wrapped around his heart though they’d broken their kiss a moment ago. It was incredible and confusing and…too immediate to be spoken of, just yet. For now, it was enough just to feel , thought he realized suddenly that she was shivering. Glancing down, he was almost surprised to see that she still wore her prom dress. It was beautiful, but no protection against the desert at night.
Liz shrugged, reading the question in Max’s eyes and in the incredible feeling of his soul, still anchored somewhere deep inside herself. “I wasn’t thinking about how cold I’d be. I needed to see you.” She said softly.
Max nodded his understanding before quickly shucking his coat. He pulled away only long enough to wrap it securely around Liz’s shoulders, adding a little power to his touch in order to warm the material, before he pulled her back into his embrace.
Liz gasped as she felt the tingling, electric signature of Max’s power whisper across her skin. She trembled some at the contact, the cold forgotten in the face of his added warmth. It was so achingly familiar, this feeling of being safe and warm in his arms. Cherished. Complete. Liz swallowed hard against the tears that burned her eyes at his thoughtfulness. This was the most settled her soul had been since that night. It was simple relief, she told herself as he wiped gently at her tears. But while she may have been adamantly unwilling to acknowledge the lingering ache in her soul, the sudden remembrance that this was only fleeting refused to be silent. When this night was over…shaking her head, Liz forcibly reminded herself that their night wasn’t over. Not yet. She’d deal with everything else…tomorrow.
Max lowered his head to rest against Liz’s soft, fragrant hair, stroking soothingly through her thick tresses. “I’m sorry.” He whispered, not entirely certain why. “I only wanted to keep you warm.” He offered helplessly when his apology did nothing to stop the rush of emotion still tumbling across their connection.
“You did, Max.” Liz whispered brokenly. “God, you’ve always kept me so warm.”
Max shook his head, unable to stop the tears from welling in his own eyes. He wasn’t sure anymore if they belonged to her or to him. “I’ll have to stop if it sets us both off like this.” He tried to joke.
Liz choked out a giggle, rallying in the face of Max’s need to comfort her. “Sorry.” She bit her lip a little before saying what neither one of them wanted to hear. “We should probably…”
“You said we had tonight. Tonight’s over yet.” Max pointed out swiftly, desperately. There were things he wasn’t ready to recognize, though he’d already seen them. They were unavoidable, simmering just below the heat of their connection…but he couldn’t look at them too closely. Not tonight. He wasn’t ready to give her up.
“But it’ll be warmer at my house. There’s still so much we need to say before…before tomorrow.” Liz replied softly. And there was still so much to say. Their feelings were only half of their story. Swallowing hard, Liz forced herself to remember the responsibility that was the other half. But still, she refused to consider leaving his side. She was planning to steal every minute of this night for herself. Damn time, and damn the future. And damn whatever else saw fit to question her intentions…she couldn’t face tomorrow. Not yet. “A couple blankets, my balcony…” Liz tempted lightly.
Max nodded. Tomorrow. Right. He was distracted from the oddly melancholy thought by the realization that they were hanging off a rock “Let’s get you home.” At any other time his imagination would have taken wing at the idea of being wrapped in a blanket with her, but he understood the limits to what she was offering. Or so he told himself.. Max steadied Liz as she climbed slowly to her feet, then stood himself, easing them both away from the danger of the sheer drop. The world seemed to reappear around him as they moved back toward the rocky path that led home. And while a piece of himself mourned the loss of isolation, the rest of him wondered what that would mean. Max sighed and continued down the steep incline, picking his way through the loose soil and rock. Some of his newfound trepidation was lost when he realized that he could still sense Liz, still feel the dull thrum of her heartbeat across their startlingly resilient connection as she moved to follow him. She stumbled suddenly, her arms flailing lightly as she caught her balance and Max halted, reaching back to make sure she was ok. And pausing to recover from the odd lurch in his own equilibrium as she regained her balance.
“I’m fine, Max.” Liz assured him, her brows drawing together in confusion when he continued to hesitate.
Taking a deep breath, and wondering at his own indecision, Max slowly extended his hand.
Liz’s stared at Max’s proffered hand before searching through the shadows of the night to catch hold of his somber gaze. Swallowing hard, she hesitated. There was so much significance attached to that one simple gesture, it hurt.
For an instant, Max struggled to keep his balance under the sheer breadth of Liz’s heartbreak. He couldn’t help the involuntary shiver that wracked his soul as a fission of her own agony tightened around his heart. He wanted to apologize for the gesture, which had seemed so right only a moment ago. Or take it back. But he couldn’t. And then, right before his eyes, Liz steadied herself, pushing past the pain to remain firmly with him, in the midst of their night. Her expression softened and then it was only about them, this moment, their love. Max let out the breath he hadn’t realized he was holding at the first tentative brush of her fingers against his own. He brought her hand to rest more firmly within his own before kissing her knuckles lightly.
“Thank you.” Liz whispered, settling easily against Max as he tucked her safely next to him and started back down the incline, steadying her as they walked.
Max shook his head, unable to express his sudden gratitude for the comforting presence of her soul threading through his own. How did you thank someone for making you whole? “Thank you.” He replied. Sometimes, like saying ‘I love you,’ those words were enough. He refused to acknowledge the voice inside himself which offered the haunting reminder that sometimes, like ‘I love you,’ they weren’t nearly enough.
The fact that we are fools is duly noted...
But must that be our epitaph?
-SRC
I'd be an idiot if I weren't less than pleased about being doomed.
Staring over the edge of Liz’s balcony and past the deserted length of Main Street, Max continued his perusal of the stars hanging brightly in the eastern sky. At least he thought he was looking to the East. He’d never had Michael’s internal compass, and now that he thought about it, he wasn’t entirely sure that the sun actually rose in the East anyway. The only thing he was sure of, was acutely aware of in fact, was that while he was studiously ignoring Liz’s open window, she was in her room taking off her prom dress. Well, changing out of her prom dress. Which actually, by definition, did involve taking it off… with only one wall separating them. Ok, two since she was in the bathroom and he was outside staring at the stars and silently lamenting that X-Ray vision wasn’t one of his powers. While simultaneously cursing the distance that now existed between the two of them. Normal though it may have been, the conspicuous cooling of their connection both confirmed their metaphysical separation and left him feeling strangely desolate. As if something vital had been taken from him. Or was about to be. He was worried, Max finally admitted to himself. Ever since he’d been forced to let go of Liz’s hand so she could drive her own car back to Roswell, he’d been worried.
Giving the low brick wall a frustrated shove, Max stepped away from the edge and settled himself on Liz’s lawn chair, absently studying the dim outline of the city as he waited for Liz to finish changing. It was impressive, he decided idly, how far you could see from her roof. Or maybe Roswell was just…small. Really, really small. Claustrophobic. And suddenly pressing in on him with the same vague sense of unease that had haunted him all the way back from the desert. Rolling his shoulders against the tension, Max tried to shrug off what he had to believe was a ridiculous sense of foreboding. Which only seemed to increase the longer the night wore on.
Running a hand through his already disheveled hair, Max tried to ignore the onslaught of disquieting vulnerability that seemed to come out of nowhere. But he couldn’t. And as if he were a bystander to his own emotions, he could feel that strangely unfamiliar desperation hunt out his plummeting sense of optimism to create the weight now sitting heavily in the pit of his stomach. More than a little disturbed, Max wondered what the hell was wrong with him. This was a good night, damn it! A night that promised to set the tone for the rest of his life… his life with Liz. Focus on Liz, he reminded himself forcefully, not the fact that he could almost see the wonder of their night slipping fluidly from his grasp with all the lingering reality of a dream. Max shook his head angrily. That wasn’t going to happen. He wouldn’t let it. Just think about Liz, he counseled himself. Think about Liz and everything that you learned tonight and…
Liz.
Max sat straight up under the sudden force of his epiphany. It wasn’t just his own trepidation he was fighting, he realized. Their connection may not have had the immediate intimacy of earlier, but now that he was looking, he recognized that he still retained the smallest sense of her. And the longer he focused on it, the more clearly defined it became until it was an almost tangible presence stealing through his soul. Aside from the oddity of having to sort through several filmy layers of emotion before he could say for sure which belonged to him and which belonged to Liz, it was an incredible relief to know that they hadn’t really separated. There was no distinction, really, between them and Max clung to that as the only real assurance he’d been granted all night. Forcing his own fear to the back of his mind, Max focused on Liz’s sudden desperation, needing to know what had caused it so that he could fix it. But all he could really sense was that…she didn’t want to be apart from him. God, she wanted exactly the same thing he did. She wanted them to stay wrapped around each other forever. His shoulders slumped under the force of his relief and his head fell heavily into his hands. His relaxation was short lived, however, considering the nagging confusion that followed immediately afterward. She wanted them to be together. They were meant to be together. So why couldn’t she accept that?
Staring sightlessly into the night, Max felt his confusion morph into a deep, nagging concern. Why did she still feel like she was going to be lonely for the rest of her life? And why couldn’t he reassure her, he wondered in frustration as his souls attempt to reach for her was met with...nothing. There was no resistance, but no response either. It seemed that, as enmeshed as they were within the echoes of this newfound connection, they’d somehow lost the fluidity of their earlier communion. The steady ebb and flow that had allowed an easy soul discourse had disappeared, leaving him with an odd sense of failure and a familiar foreboding. The memory of that earlier connection taunted him, shifting from the heady promise of his souls desire, to a whispering lament of moments passed and opportunities missed. Shaking his head and taking a deep breath Max forced the desolation to the back of his mind. He wasn’t giving in to her fear this time. Or his own. It was all just a matter of focus, he told himself and he had the rest of the night to convince her that whatever she was afraid of, they’d face together. To convince her that this was right, they were right, and he’d never let her be alone again. If only she’d come out of the bathroom...
Staring through her open window, Liz hesitated, still unsure how to proceed. Or even if she should. A moment ago, standing in front of the bathroom mirror and searching her reflection in vain for any hint of a plan, she’d found herself completely overwhelmed by the looming weight of everything she and Max still needed to discuss. Her trepidation hadn’t been helped by the surreal sense of Max’s own anxiety threading through her own. In fact, their combined uncertainty had almost been enough to keep her hiding in the bathroom. Except, just beyond the immediate sense of fear there was such… promise. A serenity and contentment that she knew in her heart could so easily belong to her. If only she would reach for it. And beyond even that promise, she could sense in Max the same wonder, the same tempered joy that she felt at their sudden, unwieldy connection. Which only seemed to become more a part of herself the longer she lived in it, which she couldn’t seem to stop herself from doing. She wondered idly if it would always be like this, if she’d always carry a faint shadow of who he was within her heart. And then she wondered if that would ever be enough, if she’d ever stop yearning for the completion they’d known in the desert.
With a sigh, Liz admitted the truth. She didn’t want their connection to fade, was grateful even now that they were ... cemented. The word struck her conscience with the force of an explosion. Cemented.
It was more amazing than she’d ever imagined. And more terrifying.
Biting her lip against a sudden rush of guilt, Liz glanced up at the night sky, feeling suddenly exposed as she wondered if Future Max were looking down on her in disappointment…or had he known all along that this was going to happen. She wasn’t sure. And staring up into the beauty of the night, she didn’t really care. The stars were twinkling over Roswell and while they weren’t as bright or as close as those in the desert, there was an odd congruence to their presence. As if they linked the varied moments of this evening together, lending her their simple blessing and reminding her of all the ground she and Max had already covered. She was safe with Max. And this was right.
Letting out a relieved sigh, Max turned his head to see Liz climb gracefully back through the open window. And then she was standing before him, biting her lip shyly. The tortuous fear of the last few minutes was lost somewhere in the velvet softness of her eyes. Beautiful. God, she was beautiful in the moonlight. And against all sense and his own best intentions, Max found his eyes straying to her mouth, remembering the fullness of her lips against his own. His fingers tightened around the edge of the lawn chair as he fought the impulse to reach for her. Instead, he took a steadying breath as the reason for her sudden shyness became apparent. His true sense of her hadn’t increased, even with her nearness, and he guessed it was the same for her sense of him.
Staring into her eyes and recognizing the lingering uncertainty lurking beneath her shyness, Max knew that whatever else needed to be said tonight, needed to be said with complete understanding. His hand was gently wrapping around her fingers before he’d even decided to reach for her. There wasn’t even a moment to fear that their earlier completion was a one-time-only experience. With an immediacy that should have been startling, their connection, stilled to a whisper with the separation of their bodies, flared gently. And then roared back to life, leaving their anxiety lost somewhere in the maelstrom of emotion sparked by their shared relief. Max smiled gently, his eyes lifting to meet Liz’s gaze as he felt the fullness of her answering smile. It was almost enough to make him giddy, and he was unwilling to risk losing the intense feeling of her spirit lodged securely within his heart. Tugging gently on Liz’s hand, Max pulled her down to sit next to him. He sighed happily as the warmth of her body molded against his side, touching him wherever she could and somehow framing the whole experience, lending an intense physicality to the simple act of sitting next to one another. Wanting her even closer, Max shifted more fully onto the lounge chair so that he could pull Liz into his arms.
Liz exhaled slowly, reveling in the warm relief and the startling ebb and flow of their full connection as it flooded her body. So much time had been wasted on fear, she saw that now, felt it in the open emotion flowing easily between them. There was nothing but safety and the burning edge of contentment in Max’s arms.
A subtle dissatisfaction ached softly within Liz’s heart as she acknowledged that this new contentment wasn’t hers to keep, though she knew she’d crave it for as long as she lived. She almost fell into the trap of thinking about tomorrow, but she forced the impulse aside. There would be time for bitterness later, Liz told herself firmly. Tonight was for nothing less than her wonder at the depth of Max’s feelings, and her gratitude for his own recognition of the depth of hers. "Thanks." She whispered, settling her back more comfortably against Max’s chest.
Max nodded, pressing a light kiss to Liz’s temple before resting his head lightly against her own. "Anytime." Anytime, he repeated silently, meaning it more than any promise he’d ever made in his life. The intimacy of their position, her body relaxing easily against his own, was subtly addictive. While it wasn’t the passion of a kiss, the feel of Liz in his arms held such promise. Tightening his arms around her, Max ignored the odd thread of discontent he could still sense, forcing it to the back of his mind in the vague hope that if he didn’t acknowledge it, it wouldn’t exist. There was no room in his heart for that sort of possibility. They simply needed to get past this. And they would. "So…" he encouraged clumsily, wishing there was a way to make her understand that everything was going to be ok.
"Yeah, so… I don’t know where to start." Liz whispered nervously, reluctant to break the peace of their communion.
I don’t want to start at all, Max admitted silently, still vaguely worried. The last ‘conversation' they’d had hadn’t exactly gone well and he was more than content to let the world spin around them in silence as long as he could continue to hold Liz in his arms and feel her wrapped around his heart.
"I mean, you probably know about everything from the psychic to…to now, I guess. I mean…"
"Psychic?" Max interrupted, latching onto a seemingly harmless detail. "Why would you need a psychic?" he asked, vaguely disgusted by the idea.
Liz shook her head, amused in spite of herself by the fact that an alien with super powers had trouble believing in a woman with tarot cards. "Max…"
"That was Maria’s idea, wasn’t it?" Max asked, rolling his eyes at the small shrug Liz offered in response. "So, what was this psychic gonna do? Read your palm and tell you your future?
"No…"
"Crystal ball?" Without even waiting for an answer, Max continued. "No, wait….it was tea leaves. She made you drink something really rank and then gave you some crap about…"
Swallowing her giggle, Liz glanced up at him. "Max." She rebuked softly.
"Sorry." Max apologized unrepentantly. He could feel the last of Liz’s trepidation disappear in the face of his teasing, though her seriousness hadn’t faded. Tightening his arms once again around her petite body, Max nodded. "Ok. No more jokes." He promised, noting the unfamiliar feel of her pulling strength from his easy acceptance, just as he was steadying his own nerves with her resolve. "So this psychic, did she see…this?" he asked.
Liz bit her lip. "No." she whispered. "She saw…us. Together." She saw you choose love, just like you tried to do. Liz took a deep breath as she felt Max’s understanding whisper across their connection. Even without the words he knew what she meant by ‘together’. But now came the hard part. Now she had to help him understand everything that their being together had heralded for that last timeline.
Ignoring the heavy weight of their connection, Max focused on his burgeoning belief in psychics. "Together." He repeated softly. Maybe Maria wasn’t completely goofy, after all. Shaking his head, Max forced his thoughts from what should have happened then, to what was going to happen now. It was the future he’d always hoped for. "I know what happened Liz,” Max whispered. “I just need to know…" What? What was it he needed to know? Why do we have to talk about anything, and why didn’t you tell me sooner? Why did you trust him and not me? Why does it still matter?
"What?" Liz asked nervously, becoming even more so as their all too brief peace gave way to…the reality of their feelings, she realized. There was no being polite now, not with the naked emotion that was currently binding them together. She should have felt exposed, but as vulnerable as she was there seemed nothing to fear with the steady, unchanging truth of their love filtering through to every part of herself. Just as she knew it was echoing with the same strength through Max’s very being. "What?" Liz asked again, stroking gentle fingers along Max’s forearm.
Max shrugged. "I just…I feel like I’ve been so stupid. This whole time, I could see you begging me to figure something out… but then, then you’d lie to me… and I just didn’t know what to think. And then tonight… when you said you were suffocating it just seemed like…we were really…"
"Over." Liz finished, nodding her understanding. "I’m sorry… But Max…"
Max shook his head. "You don’t have to be sorry. I always thought I was so good at reading you, at figuring out what was going on inside that beautiful head of yours, you know? But… even though I could see it in your eyes… Liz, I could see this huge secret that you needed me to know, to… fix somehow..." Max gave a snort of un-amused laughter, thoroughly disgusted by his own ignorance. "But for the life of me, I just couldn’t see what it was," he admitted.
Liz shook her head, making a clumsy attempt at teasing him in an effort to combat his disgust over his own shortsightedness. "Yeah, I can’t imagine why you’d never consider that your future self had come back in time to break us up so that the world didn’t end." Shifting around, Liz leaned up and caught his gaze. "Max, Maria doesn’t have that kind of imagination. No one could have seen that." She finished softly, beginning to feel like the joke had been on her the whole time. No one could have seen it coming but there it was. And the truth wasn’t going away. "And anyway, you knowing…I thought for so long that if you just knew that somehow it would make everything right… maybe. I don’t know. But, Max real life doesn’t work that way."
"Yeah." Max shrugged, still struggling to take it all in. It was wrong. The idea that he and Liz, together as they should be could mean the end of the world… it was just wrong. He knew he had to find a way to make her see that. But he understood now that she’d had too much time on her own to rationalize it. And he was still playing catch up. One night suddenly seemed nowhere near enough time. "Well, speaking of a lack of imagination… how’d he come up with this plan anyway?" Max asked, stalling in the hope that things would simply turn out as they should.
"I don’t know. He couldn’t really explain…"
"Figures. How’d he manage to get back in time in the first place?" Max asked sharply, finding a strange comfort in clinging to the details as he rose from the lawn chair and began to pace. There was a mistake here… somewhere. And if he could just find it, just make Liz see it, if she saw that the mechanics of the plan was wrong then she’d have no choice but to accept that the outcome was wrong.
Liz shook her head slowly, watching as Max paced, and searching through her memory for an answer that would mollify his sudden restlessness. "Max, he really didn’t tell me much, he couldn’t, but…all he said was that Serena had modified the granolith and…
"Serena? Who’s Serena?"
Liz blinked, taken completely by surprise at the burning indignation she could sense venting across their connection. "He didn’t really say…just that she would be a friend of mine in…in the future." Her brows furrowed with the sudden fullness of his dislike for someone he’d never even met. "Max?"
Max’s eyes narrowed as he tried to link together the strange chain of events that had led to his future self trying to ruin his life. "So she sent him back in time…"
"That was the plan, Max." Liz reminded him gently, uncertainly. "I… it didn’t seem like he was forced."
Max snorted softly. "Whatever." He muttered. "It doesn’t matter. Forced or not this just doesn’t make any sense. I mean, this… we aren’t wrong." He continued before she could say anything. "Liz, this plan sucks."
"Max, I…it’s what he told me needed to be done." Liz repeated, feeling helpless. "He told me that Serena rigged the granolith to send him back in time so that I could…he told me I had to…"
"Make me fall out of love with you," Max finished quietly, his interest in this ‘Serena’s’ part in trying to destroy his life suddenly forgotten.
Liz swallowed hard and nodded. The truth really wasn’t going away, no matter how much she wanted it to. "So I went to Kyle and…"
"Did what you had to do." Max acknowledged, unable to completely quell the searing animosity that raged through his heart at the remembrance of Kyle lounging so comfortably in Liz’s bed. And then Kyle was forgotten in the wake of the rending hollowness of Liz’s sudden fragility.
Liz closed her eyes dejectedly. Even after everything they’d discovered about each other tonight, he still thought…God! He still believed she’d slept with Kyle.
Max blinked, his pacing stilled to a halt as the sudden resigned desolation currently darkening Liz’s spirit sent an aftershock of despair through his own soul. Their connection was live, but not as immediate or as tangible as he needed it to be. He didn’t know if…she wasn’t still clinging to that…was she? She couldn’t be. Not after tonight, not after everything that they’d already been through. Two strides brought Max back to the lawn chair and he squatted in front of Liz, taking her hands within his own and immediately feeling their connection spark to a deeper level as she laced their fingers together. "You didn’t sleep with Kyle, I know you didn’t." Max whispered fiercely, holding her gaze. He could feel it, just as he always had. Liz was everything he’d always believed her to be. She was honest and good, loyal and kind. She was gentle and beautiful, sensitive and strong. He stubbornly ignored the voice inside himself that warned of those very qualities being what would forever keep her from him. "Liz, please…" Don’t lie to me again. Don’t turn this night into an illusion, he pleaded silently, unwilling to give voice to his desperation. She needed to decide on her own. She’d set the tone for this whole evening and the next two minutes would set the tone for…the rest of their lives.
Liz shook her head, vaguely awed by what she was feeling. Max’s understanding, his unqualified acceptance was right there, waiting for her…waiting simply to hear the truth. Leaning forward slightly, her breath caught in her throat, Liz met Max’s gaze squarely. Her uncertainty dissipated as quickly as it had erupted, banished to the shadowed depths of her soul as she allowed herself to really see the earnest encouragement so clear in Max’s amber eyes. She held his gaze steadily, needing them to be wrapped around each other when she said the words, words she now knew they’d both been waiting to hear. "I didn’t sleep with Kyle." Liz admitted solemnly, her relief blazing through the last of their misunderstanding to blend with his own. "I just needed you to think I had, so that you’d fall out of love with me." Taking a deep breath, Liz wondered at the possibility that there was some validity to the idea that the truth could set you free. Even Max seemed to be breathing more easily as everything he’d ever believed was confirmed with her admission. And suddenly, it was the burgeoning force of possibility which defined them, instead of the somber melancholy that had previously delineated their connection. Liz shook her head, amazed at his acceptance, amazed that after months of questioning her honesty and her motives, he questioned not one word of her story. He simply accepted it as the truth. "Max, how…"
"It’s you, Liz. I know you. I always have." Max replied helplessly, shrugging a little in the face of her relieved wonder. Standing up, he pulled Liz to her feet and into his arms, his eyes closing in deep contentment when her arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him closer, holding her against his heart as if she never planned to leave. He’d waited months to hear the lilting beauty of those five words, months to feel her soul unencumbered by secrets and lies as it rested against his own. And he’d been wrong, he realized, about the truth. It wasn’t unkind, not when it renewed the simple purity of the trust that had always been at the very heart of who they were together. "I thought we’d lost this." Max sighed, his arms tightening around her. They’d come so close, too close, to losing one another. And they were never going to come that close again. "Every time you looked at me and lied I just felt us slipping farther and farther apart. I understand why you did it, I do, but…you should have told me Liz."
Liz nodded, feeling his resolve wrap around her heart. There was no rancor in his observation and no qualification to his understanding, he was simply stating a fact. And he was right. She should have told him. And now that she had, she could feel his spirit settle more fully into itself, into her. Whole. Her whole being sighed with the understanding. Both of them. Whole. She closed her eyes. No more secrets, she reminded herself. But how could she tell him what she, herself wanted to forget?
"I know, I know he didn’t give you a choice." Max acknowledged quickly, misinterpreting the brief brush of her hurt feelings. "But, I mean… things could have been so different, Liz. We would have found another way… together." Max continued, his eyes narrowing thoughtfully. "I mean, we definitely would have come up with a better plan. One that didn’t involve Kyle…" he muttered, trying to joke. And failing miserably.
Liz blinked, her attention shifting with the sudden force of his clear animosity. "Max, he was only being a friend. I’m the one that recruited him. I needed help...," she tried to explain.
Max snorted. "How very helpful."
"Max, really…"
Max glanced down at Liz. "Uh-huh, and it had nothing to do with the fact that he can’t stand me, right?"
Liz shook her head slowly as understanding dawned. Max wanted someone to blame, he needed someone to be angry with. She understood the feeling. And she knew how futile it was. "He’s a Buddhist." She said, trying to tease him from his purpose. "I don’t think they believe in the whole revenge, evil thing."
"Buddhist?” Max’s rolled his eyes. “What a load of crap!" He muttered.
Liz shook her head again, staring up into his indignant features. "Max, that won’t help. It’s not Kyle’s fault. It had to happen like that." The words slipped out almost against her will. And in the face of Max’s disbelieving stillness Liz immediately wished she could take them back. "I’m sorry, but…"
Max shook his head. "Forget it." he demanded flatly. "That’s not true. It doesn’t have to be like this. I mean, how can us being together cause the end of the world? And how does us being apart stop it? Wouldn’t it have been better to…to, I don’t know, give us advanced weapons or, or something? The invasion date, maybe? I just…I can’t believe that I would ever come up with something so… so…" He stuttered to a halt as he felt her patient understanding stretching through their connection. As if she knew the circles his mind was running and was just waiting for him to catch up with her. "It’s a suck plan," he repeated stubbornly.
"I guess we can be grateful that narcissism isn’t one of your failings." Liz teased lightly. Then she sobered. "It’s Chaos Theory, Max. I…I looked it up." She rolled her eyes at Max’s raised brows. "Ok, so I am a dork. I had some time on my hands." She defended. "It’s like the butterfly thing… only on a universal scale."
"What? What butterfly?” Max asked. Liz’s resigned acceptance was disturbing enough, but the fact that she had a scientific theory to back it up was enough to send his anxiety rushing back through his system.
“A butterfly flaps its wings in Japan and there’s a hurricane in Florida,” Liz said, as if that explained everything.
Huh? “O-K…” Max replied. “What does a butterfly in Japan have to do with us?”
"Chaos Theory. It says that one little thing going off-kilter affects everything else. Something that shouldn’t happen in the present, happening…it screws up the future. You… you’re supposed to be with Tess."
Max shook his head in disbelief. "How can you even say that?" he whispered. But the answer hit him before the words were even completely out of his mouth. He could feel her uncertainty… Her sad understanding that Tess was like him. They had a responsibility together, a destiny which Liz was still unable, unwilling to stand in the way of. Max felt his breath catch painfully in his throat at the realization. He shook his head, needing to sway her from her course, but completely at a loss as to how to do it.
"Liz, listen to me, if anything went off-kilter it was you and me not being together." Holding her gaze, Max traced a gentle knuckle across her cheek, his optimism and confidence bolstered when he actually felt her response before he saw it. "You can’t tell me you think this is wrong," he pointed out.
"It doesn’t matter what I think. Max, we can’t just play with this like it doesn’t mean anything! We’re not talking about… crop circles or something. We’re talking about the end of the world. And it happens because we’re together. Your future self traveled back in time to stop that…" Liz could feel the renewed rush of Max’s indignation, the disbelieving anger that anyone, particularly himself, would ever do something so destructive. "Max, listen. Doesn’t it mean anything to you that 12 years from now you realize there’s no other way?"
"It means I’m an idiot!" Max snapped, wishing his future self hadn’t disappeared, simply so he could wring his neck. "What kind of plan is that? Going back in time just to break your heart, and mine! It’s ridiculous. And ineffective." He added as an afterthought.
Liz blinked. Max’s sudden animosity was disconcerting, especially considering that it was, essentially, directed toward himself. "Max, he was desperate. He said that Michael and Isabel were dead. His world was… it was gone. I don’t think he even realized…"
"Well, he should have."
Liz shook her head, wondering how she’d suddenly come to be defending Future Max. "Max, it’s over." She soothed gently, for the first time, allowing those words to comfort her own soul. "He’s not coming back." There had always been a choking desolation in the knowledge that the Max who loved her had disappeared from time altogether. But now sitting within the protective strength of his embrace, Liz comforted herself with the knowledge that they’d never truly be lost to each other. She ignored the voice inside herself which cried out against the agony that they could never truly be together, either. What they were to each other was enough, she told herself stubbornly. It had to be. She simply had to accept that. And she would. Tomorrow. Sighing, Liz laced her fingers through Max’s. "You need to let it go, Max. We both do."
Max nodded, swallowing his ire quickly in the face of her acceptance. She was right, but not the way she thought. She was so set on this course, but he knew if he could just come up with a viable alternative, she’d change her mind. It was what she, herself wanted, he was sure of it. He could feel it in the oddly suspended expectation so clear within their connection. Of course, now he needed a viable alternative.
"I’m sorry,” Max sighed, forcing himself to let go of his temper tantrum before it could really get started. They couldn’t change the past… all evidence to the contrary. And maybe that was the lesson in all of this. "You’re right. We can’t go back, just forward. The future isn’t written, Liz. Not yet," he pointed out softly. His brows drew together in surprise at the sudden yearning he could feel from Liz. Needing every advantage he could get, he opened himself fully, feeling her soul respond almost against her will.
Liz shook her head, knowing she should say something. But staring into the solemn heat of Max’s steady amber gaze, she found she was completely unable to do so. Her sense of responsibility had been shanghaied by the sudden irresistible hold he had on her soul. It was beyond freeing, the warmth of his love as it wrapped gently around her soul. And she was so sick of fighting. She deserved this moment, this night. They both did. "Max…"
Glancing down into the beauty of Liz’s moonlit features, Max smiled reveling in the feel of her relaxing once again in his arms. He could feel her relenting and his heart soared in response. "This is how I dreamed tonight would end." Max whispered, an odd wonder at the vagaries of fate floating through his consciousness. "Like that night in Vegas. You know, that was the first time I’d felt you, really felt you in so long, Liz. I wanted that night to last forever. I thought…" he took a deep breath, feeling her encouragement through the softness of their connection. "I wish Valenti had never shown up. I was so sure you were going to tell me what was really going on that night. And then we’d finally be together again." Max stared down into Liz’s eyes, feeling her regret and…God, so much more. His entire being stilled in the face of a dearly remembered anticipation. As if all the energy of a forest fire was swirling harmlessly between them, simply waiting for that first spark to ignite it. It was intoxicating, the strangely familiar yearning and excitement. As if sheer promise hung tangibly within the moment. As if he were finally going to touch everything he’d been reaching for since the first moment he’d seen her. Max could feel his heart racing in time with the intensity of the moment. He dropped his gaze, letting his forehead rest lightly against her own as he stole a moment to breathe.
“I was going to tell you,” Liz admitted. Biting her lip against a brief stab of guilt, she reached for Max, instinctively opening her heart as she closed her eyes, allowing her whole being to be soothed by the familiar weight of his forehead against her own, a physical assurance that this wasn’t a dream.
“It was real, wasn’t it? When I saw our wedding...” Max whispered, wishing she could have seen how beautiful they were .
Liz nodded. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you before,” she whispered, feeling his odd disappointment that they hadn’t shared the vision that night.
"Don’t be. I understand. Really, Liz, I do." Max lifted his forehead from hers to take in his own soft yearning mirrored in her dark eyes. He smiled at her, willing them both to reach past the weight of an explanation long since accepted to the promise of what lay beyond. "Just…from now on, promise me that you’ll tell me when things like this happen."
Liz nodded, feeling the mantle of guilt and responsibility, which she’d worn for too long now, being lifted from her shoulders with his understanding. It made her oddly giddy. Pulling back enough to cross her heart, she said playfully. "I promise, next time you visit me from the future, you’re the first one I’m gonna call…and the second one I’m gonna bitch out."
"Liz, I’m serious." Max warned, unable to hide the beginning of a grin. Her sudden excitement was contagious. And God, it felt so good to be able to smile with her again!
"Sorry. Bad time to joke?" Liz inquired innocently.
Max shook his head, his grin shaking loose as her good humor wrapped around his own, infusing his mood with a happiness he’d thought lost forever. "God, I don’t know what I’d do if we ever really lost this." He wanted to ignore the pounding memory of his earlier, desperate fear. But it hit so suddenly that he couldn’t quite manage it.
Liz paused, her good humor fading with the odd desolation that shadowed his smile. "What?"
"I can’t lose this." Max whispered, stroking a lock of hair gently from Liz’s face, compelled to feel their connection spark yet again and unsurprised when it urged him closer. "We’re not going to lose this," he promised.
Swept along on Max’s wave of longing, Liz could do nothing save nod her agreement.
Completely unused to the feel of her desire burning right alongside his own, Max had no way to counter the heady effect of what they both wanted. And God! He’d never imagined, never could have imagined that her need for him had always been simmering just below the surface of her skin. Never could have imagined that it matched his own. And he’d never, not in a million years have dreamed that, once given free rein, it would set his soul alight. The intense blaze of passion that erupted between them sent the pent up desire and frustration of the last few months raging through his blood, leaving the memories of the past a pile of ashes in the wake of this reality. "Liz…"
Even the desert wasn’t this hot, Liz thought. She whimpered, shifting restlessly closer to Max as the roaring heat of his desire raced across their connection and ignited her soul. They couldn’t, well, shouldn’t… She shook her head, but she was unable to fight the combined strength of his desire and the throbbing ache of her own body. And God forgive her, she didn’t want to. Then Max captured her lips in a kiss that stole her breath and the last of her resolve. Unable, unwilling to resist, Liz clutched at his abused tuxedo shirtfront and kissed him back.
Max slanted his mouth over Liz’s, reveling in the beauty of her response, and the feel of her body clinging to his. He shuddered under her soul’s command, as overwhelmed as she was by her need. And his own. But even as their swirling desire threatened to sweep him away, he could sense Liz hesitating. "What?" he asked, pausing too briefly for her to answer, before capturing her lips for another tongue dueling kiss.
Desperately, Liz tore her mouth from Max’s, breathing deeply with heady relief. "We were…we were talking." She panted, love and desire winning the battle for dominance of her soul.
Max nodded, catching her lips in a hard kiss before pulling back and taking a deep breath. "Right, we were talking." He breathed out. "What were you saying?" he asked absently, his eyes darkening as they lit on lips swollen from his kisses, and then moved to her eyes, hazy with their passion. Unable to resist, Max leaned in and began gently kissing along the column of her throat.
"Max…" Liz gasped, forgetting her thought as his tongue swirled along the delicate shell of her ear before moving to tug gently on the sensitive lobe. "I… I, oh, God… I was done talking."
"Me, too."
Liz inhaled sharply, closing her eyes and letting her head fall back as Max continued to plunder the sensitive skin along her pulse. She clutched at his shoulders, steadying herself as she tangled one hand in his dark hair. She’d forgotten why this was wrong, or maybe she just didn’t care. God, she’d missed him! "Max…you…you don’t have any more questions?” she asked, almost by rote.
Max raised his head and captured Liz’s lips in a desperate, bruising kiss as he cupped her face gently. The glory of her remembered response was nothing compared to the reality of her in his arms. He pulled away for an instant, brushing his nose teasingly along the bridge of her own. "Why didn’t you tell me sooner?" he asked, breathing raggedly. "God, we’ve wasted so much time!" He whispered, only caring that they wouldn’t be wasting any more time in the future and studiously ignoring the shadow of doubt which still lingered across their connection.
Liz moaned against Max’s lips. The question was without bitterness and told her that he really didn’t care about the answer. "Your future self said I had to." She whispered, answering anyway. Ignoring the demand of her puritan conscience to finish their conversation as they should, Liz captured Max’s lips, losing all sense of purpose as he took control of the kiss and slid his tongue into her mouth to stroke her own..
"Bastard," Max muttered, pulling away only long enough to catch a quick breath before capturing her lips once again. And then, with hazy cognizance he realized that Liz was trying to block something from him. After the freedom to feel all of her, he couldn’t accept the limit. "Liz?"
"Huh?"
Max stepped back, putting inches between them and ignoring both the thrill of masculine pride at the sight of her passion dazed eyes and his own urge to continue. Sighing a little, he realized that apparently they weren’t done talking. "Why didn’t you tell me sooner?" Max asked quietly. He shook his head as he felt another small retreat, and an odd fear…though it wasn’t of his reaction. "Liz?"
Liz’s brows drew together. "I told you…"
Max nodded, kissing her nose lightly. "What aren’t you telling me?" he prodded gently, willing her to know that there was nothing she needed to hide from him, nothing she couldn’t tell him.
"I… was scared. I mean, I can barely stay away from you when you’re angry with me. If I told you…"
"We’d end up wrapped in each others arms and making up for lost time?" Max finished huskily.
Liz nodded, grateful that he was apparently accepting her simple explanation. And technically it was the truth. At least part of it.
Max shook his head. "And…" he prodded gently.
"And?" Liz paused, swallowing hard before raising her eyes to meet Max’s steady gaze. Right. He wasn’t going to let this go. Her heart pounding with the fear she’d been ignoring since he pulled her into his arms, Liz took a deep breath and continued. "I was scared. Not just of, of your reaction but… I was just so afraid that, that it wouldn’t matter. I mean, you were married to her. I just, I figured… It hurt so much to let you go, I just didn’t know if I could handle you choosing…"
Max placed a gentle finger against Liz’s trembling lips as he shook his head. He couldn’t believe that she’d actually think that he’d want Tess over her. But her emotions were clear, her fear and insecurity heartbreaking. And such a waste of energy. "Liz, I could never choose Tess over you. Never. Tess is… it’s not what you think."
Liz nodded unconvincingly. Fate, or destiny she amended bitterly, may as well have just thrown a bucket of ice water at them. "Max, maybe… you need to let yourself… I mean, you’re drawn to her. You have been from the beginning. Maybe… You said yourself that you remembered her.” she finished miserably.
Max shook his head quickly. "I do remember her, sort of, but… what I remember is that Zahn cared for her. He trusted her, but what he felt… it’s nothing compared to what I feel for you. Nothing," he said fiercely, needing Liz to believe him, to feel the truth of his words.
“Yeah, but Max, you do feel something for her. God, you were kissing her! And maybe you need to …”
“Liz, listen to me, Tess is…”
“Beautiful?”
Max blinked. Tess was beautiful, but that was hardly what he was going to say.
“Safe,” he corrected.
Liz stared. Out of all the words in the English language, she’d never use ‘safe’ to describe Tess Harding. “What?”
“She’s ... It’s hard to explain,” Max muttered, feeling vaguely ashamed. “I just know she’d never …”
“Try to hurt you. Like I did.” Liz finished, the implication feeling like a knife in her heart.
“No, see that’s just it, Liz. It wouldn’t matter if she did. Because she could never hurt me like that.” Max shook his head, he was saying this all wrong and Liz was retreating further away. “She could never hurt me, because I don’t feel anything for her like I feel for you. I don’t love her. You’re all I’ve ever wanted. All I’ll ever want," Max said, his voice soft and solemn as he prayed that she’d see past the awkwardness of his explanation to the truth of his words. He traced a finger lightly across her cheekbone, feeling her spirit lighten, even as her eyes filled with tears. "Don’t you know what you are to me?" he echoed pointedly, willing the emotion across their connection, willing her to feel the soul deep honesty of his words. "You’re the love of my life, Liz. Everyone else… you’re the love of my life," he whispered brokenly, her own fraying emotions tugging at his heart.
Liz gasped sharply. She could feel herself getting lost in the heated depths of Max’s eyes. It was so tempting to forget the world and simply exist in the full, rolling emotion that tumbled so easily across their connection. His sincerity steamrolled any lingering doubt about his feelings and lent a haunting weight to his words. God, this was so much… more than the first time he’d let her see him. More stark, more raw, more real, more… Max. And in his eyes… in his eyes, she was beauty. She was everything. Liz couldn’t stop the single tear that rolled down her cheek as she turned her face into Max’s palm. Pulling in a deep breath she shook her head softly, unable to ignore the thread of desolation lurking just behind his honesty. "Max, Tess is…"
Max shook his head, stilling her lips with a brief, gentle kiss. He pulled away before their passion could ignite but he could feel her spirit tremble against him, longing for more, and he knew he’d made his point. "Tess is not you. She’ll never be you." He said, willing his sudden fear to the back of his mind. They belonged together. But he still needed to convince her of that fact. “Liz, we’ll think of another way. Together.”
“Max, we had twelve years and we couldn’t think of anything else!” Liz pointed out, anguished.
“They weren’t …”
“What, Max? They weren’t what?” Taking a deep breath, Liz gentled her tone. “They weren’t us? They didn’t know what they were giving up?” Meeting his horrified gaze with her own she said, “They knew. And they still did it because they had to, so that the world wouldn’t end, remember?”
Max opened his mouth and then closed it. He had no argument for that. And no time to think of one. But he couldn’t simply give up. “Liz …”
"Max, listen to me…" Liz shook her head again, suddenly realizing that they’d gone too far in their explanations, exposed too many truths. And she’d allowed herself to forget the most important one. She’d needed to explain everything, but she hadn’t wanted this. Hadn’t wanted to hurt him or steal happiness from his future. They should both… God! She didn’t know what they should do anymore. Only what they needed to do. "You could be happy with… you’ll love…"
Max shook his head in swift denial. Foregoing the imprecision of words, he took a deep breath and stared down into Liz’s eyes, instinctively reaching for an even more immediate intimacy. Their connection jumped, doubling in intensity as if they’d tuned in to a higher frequency. It was no longer a simple blending of emotion but a continuous, raging stream of existence which roared through them both and left him wondering where she ended and he began.
Liz blinked, the naïve belief that he would ever replace her lost in the raw knowledge of who he was. Tess was his responsibility, his friend. He cared for her, but his heart, his soul…Liz saw now that the deepest, truest part of himself would always belong to her. "Max…"
Max took a deep, shuddering breath. "I’ll never love her. Not like I love you," he whispered, knowing he’d made his point. "Never like I love you." He blinked, breaking the flaring intensity of their connection before it got out of control and feeling a deep yearning replace its waning strength. "Liz, you can’t ask me to just… let go. I can’t. You can’t. We’ll find another way."
"Max, please, please don’t make me regret telling you this. Don’t make me do this alone… I… this, it doesn’t change anything," Liz choked out, the emotion closing her throat and making it difficult to breathe. It wasn’t fair. He understood everything, saw everything… except the main point of the evening.
"You’re not alone, I’m right here with you, I promise. Always," Max whispered, stroking a soothing hand through Liz’s hair. He felt like an utter bastard for upsetting her, but he had to make her see. "But Liz, please… this changes everything. You know it does. Say it changes everything," he whispered, kissing her forehead gently, almost holding his breath as he waited for her to agree.
Liz took a deep breath, smiling sadly in the face of Max’s desperate hope. "Tell me… tell me that Tess will accept this. Promise me that she won’t leave. And that the world won’t end. Promise me all that and I’ll agree." With gentle fingers Liz stroked the hair back from Max’s brow before laying her palm against his cheek. "Promise me, and you know my answer."
Max nodded, opening his mouth to do just that. It was an easy promise to make. An easy… lie to give voice to. Max closed his mouth as reality chose that moment to bring his dreams once again crashing down around him. Tess hadn’t pushed, but the sudden memory of the relieved hope in her eyes earlier tonight muted his voice and killed his intentions. For so long he’d ignored what his friendship with Tess was leading to. And ignored the intimacy of the memory retrieval in a foolish attempt to avoid dealing with it. But now he had no choice but to deal with it, to see it from Tess’ perspective. She still wanted her Destiny. And he couldn’t let the world end. Max had avoided that truth all night, but now it hit him square in the gut. He may be selfish, but not even he could justify destroying a planet simply to save… the most precious thing in the world. He stared at Liz, feeling the cold ache of loss already haunting their connection. He’d give her anything she asked for, if he could. But he wouldn’t be able to grant either of them peace if he lied to her about this.
Liz nodded, and lay her head against his shoulder, clinging to him even as their passion faded, finally, with his understanding of what they had to do. "That’s what I thought."
Max shook his head helplessly. "No… I… we just need to explain. Tess isn’t heartless she won’t want to destroy the world any more than we do," he said stubbornly, his heart unwilling to acknowledge what his head was telling him was right.
"Explain what, Max? That we can’t stay away from each other but we need her to stick around and watch. That she needs to sacrifice her future for ours and we don’t really want her to stay, but if she doesn't the world ends."
"I wouldn’t say that, no…"
"But that’s what she’ll hear, Max," Liz said softly. "It’s what I’d hear."
"Liz, I… I just, I can’t believe that after everything… this really doesn’t change anything, does it?" Max asked in soft disbelief, knowing the answer but unable to stop asking the question. How had he ended up back at the truth? Truth, which existed without mercy, or kindness. How could he have forgotten?
"It can’t," Liz whispered. "Tonight belongs to us, Max but tomorrow..."
Max nodded and his arms tightened convulsively around Liz, catching her deep, shuddering breath. And her sudden aching pain. It didn’t change anything, he acknowledged dejectedly. He’d hoped so desperately that he was going to feel the beginnings of that soft smile. The one she only ever offered to him. Hoped that she’d look up at him and shake her head. And her eyes would glow in the moonlight while she softly whispered that this night of shared revelation changed everything. He could see the fantasy in his minds eye almost as clearly as he could feel the tears she was fighting. "I’m sorry." He soothed. "I’m sorry I brought it up. It’s ok, just, please don’t cry anymore." He placed soft kisses against her temple, ignoring his own tears as he tried to force his understanding across their oddly resilient connection. "Please, Liz. We don’t have much time left, let’s not waste it on tears. That’s what tomorrow’s for," he joked raggedly.
Liz offered a watery smile. "Right. Tomorrow."
Max hid his face against her neck, trying to bring his own emotions under control even as his tears slipped into the soft silk of her dark hair. He wished so desperately that the old adage about tomorrow never coming were true. The future held nothing for him but obligation shadowed by the bitter memory of a dream he never got to live. He would give anything to stay like this forever, suspended in time and wrapped safely around each other because hovering just a moment away from that yawning emptiness had to be better than stepping into it. Max took a deep breath, wondering vaguely if this moment would haunt the next version of himself. Or was his soul done after this life? "In the absence of love, beauty must needs suffice." He whispered, unable to keep a hint of bitterness from the words. How was it possible that nothing was different, even though everything had changed?
Liz’s brows drew together in confusion as she tried to place the phrase. It was oddly lyrical, like something they might have studied in English, something heavy with meaning, and mysterious sadness all at the same time. "What’s that from?"
Max shook his head. "Nothing. Nowhere. It’s what… it’s why Zahn married her. I remember how he felt. He cared for Ava but… there was something else there too. And then I, I heard… remembered that phrase. It was so clear, Liz. Tonight I finally… I saw it. I knew. Duty. He married her because…"
"Because it was the right thing to do for his people," Liz finished, burrowing further into Max’s embrace, her heart shattering all over again. Destiny.
"Fuck."
Liz glanced up, shifting in Max’s arms so that she could look at him without losing the heat of his embrace. The curse didn’t startle her as much as the soft despondency of his tone. "Max?"
"It’s not fair!" Max burst out angrily. Those who don’t learn history are doomed to repeat it. He couldn’t remember who’d said it, but hell, if it wasn’t true! He was doomed, though to what exactly, he couldn’t say. "I, I’ve done this. He’s done this. What’s the point of going through all the trouble of living again if it’s just to do the same thing over and over? This is a second chance, so how did I end up with someone else’s obligations? Wasn’t the first time enough?" he demanded unable to meet Liz’s heartbroken gaze. Instead he searched the night sky as if the answer lay hidden by the gods amongst the stars, just waiting to be found. How could he be bound by promises made by someone else? In another life? Zahn had no right to make a promise on his behalf. No right to make him beholden to a war he didn’t remember, or a planet that may as well be a dream. Please, he begged silently, for the first time willing to believe that there was a God. If He were merciful. Or even in Fate, if it were kind. If they’d just let him off the hook. If they’d just acknowledge that whatever sacrifices had been made in his last life had paid for his happiness in this one. Wasn’t that fair? Didn’t he deserve that? Didn’t Liz?
But the stars, or whatever ordered the cosmos were characteristically silent, keeping their secrets behind the beauty of a cold façade and offering him nothing but loss. "I don’t want to do this. I don’t want to live his life over again," Max whispered despondently. "I don’t know that he wanted to the first time." Which had never really mattered, he realized with a piercing sense of déjà vu. Duty had always been his only choice. And now it wasn’t simply to a planet he’d never heard of, but to his home.
Max shook his head, stealing Liz’s calm and her confidence in him as it slipped across their connection. He stared at her, desperately needing her to understand. "Liz. But… I’m not Zahn." He whispered. It felt so good to say it out loud without fear of being contradicted and he felt the weight of his confusion ease a little at her serious nod.
"I know, Max. I know who you are," Liz whispered back. She caught his conflicted gaze, holding it seriously. "I know you." She bit her lip a little before making her decision. Their night wasn’t over yet, and she was unable to ignore the lonely desperation now falling through their connection. Leaning up, Liz brushed his lips gently with her own, offering the only comfort she knew that would ease his heart.
Max relaxed into her kiss and while it held none of their earlier passion, it was profoundly moving nonetheless. The beauty of Liz’s soul as it wrapped around his was a miracle of communion. She eased his tension, his very spirit and left him warm. She made him… whole.
Liz pulled away and Max couldn’t stop the small moan at the loss of her lips against his own. Keeping his eyes shut in a vain attempt to miss the first rays of dawn which he could already feel streaking through the night sky, Max whispered helplessly. "How am I supposed to give this up? How can I let you go?"
"You have to Max. There’s no other choice, not one that won’t… destroy the world, anyway."
Right. The end of the world. How could he forget? He wondered suddenly if he’d always be jealous of himself. That other self. The him who got to spend 14 years with Liz by his side. With Liz as his wife. Fourteen years with Liz… while he got one night. He hated that other Max. Long-haired-leather-wearing- freak…
*Continued in next post*
The fact that we are fools is duly noted...
But must that be our epitaph?
-SRC
I'd be an idiot if I weren't less than pleased about being doomed.
Too soon, Max felt his future reaching for him when Liz began to move reluctantly from his arms. Swallowing hard, he opened his eyes to the early morning dawn, which signaled the end of their night. Suddenly aware of the radio which Liz had left playing in her room, Max stilled her movement, nodding vaguely at the open window as an excuse. "Dance with me." He saw her hesitate and placed his finger gently against her lips to still the possibility of her denial. "Please, we never finished our dance, and… I want to dance like we did in Vegas," he pleaded softly, paying little heed to the song, only noting that it fit this aching, solemn moment. The music was soft and slow and it meant holding Liz close against his heart, feeling the beauty of her soul against his own. Max held out his hand. "Please?" The gentle sound of the guitar echoed along the roof, somehow both yearning and mournful. Beautiful. And as Liz took his hand, that was all he needed to know.
Tears filled her eyes but Liz blinked them back and offered a small smile as she took Max’s hand and allowed herself to be pulled back into his embrace. For the last time. She stepped closer, taking this one last moment to revel in the scent of his skin. And the heat of his body… the steady, beating rhythm of his breaking heart while the words of the song they were dancing to rang sharply in her ears, obliterating the contentment she’d been so close to feeling. And leaving a steeled purpose and another shattered heart in its wake.
Would you hold my hand
If I saw you in Heaven?
Would you help me stand
If I saw you in Heaven?
Max felt his breath catch painfully in his throat. He tightened his arms around Liz, holding her closer as she trembled against him. Before this long, dark night of their soul had begun he’d dreamed about dancing with her, dreamed about holding her in his arms with nothing between them but the truth. But, God! He’d never dreamed it would feel like this.
I’ll find my way
Through night and day
‘Cause I know, I just can’t stay
Here in Heaven
Liz slowly raised her eyes to Max’s haunted amber gaze. The tears she’d been fighting coursed silently down her cheeks, the only evidence of a bleeding soul.
Time can bring you down
Time can bend your knees
Time can break your heart
Have you beggin’ please, beggin’ please
Max exhaled a rough breath. He knew the futility of trying to comfort her. There was no comfort for either of them. So instead he tucked Liz’s head in under his chin and rested his temple lightly against the top of her head. Please don’t let this night end, he begged silently to anyone who’d bother to listen. Please.
Beyond the door
There’s peace I’m sure
And I know there’ll be no more
Tears in Heaven
Liz closed her eyes, but dawn was no longer glimmering faintly at the edge of the horizon, shining with the first hint of future possibility. Instead it raged across the sky, banishing their night to the past. She could feel the light even behind her closed lids. Oh, God… please, she begged silently. Please, make it stop.
Would you know my name
If I saw you in Heaven?
Would it be the same
If I saw you in Heaven?
Max closed his eyes against the sight of the moon disappearing from view. But the loss of sight only allowed the passage of time to tick even more loudly through his consciousness. He cursed a fickle Destiny which had perversely granted him every dream he’d ever held dear, only to wrap them in a nightmare of violence and destruction. Yet, even in the midst of his bitterness he couldn’t help but thank Fate for the connection that still bound him to Liz. It wrapped around them both, threading through the naked emotion of their souls so that even with the pain, it was the sharing he’d always remember. It was the completion he’d fall back on during the cold, lonely nights that stretched out before him, masquerading as a future.
I must be strong
And carry on
‘Cause I know I don’t belong
Here in Heaven
Barely breathing by the time the song ended, Max and Liz simply clung to each other in the hopes that time would miraculously stop, that the moment would stretch on into forever. But the reality of the situation was clear in the warm rays of the sun. Opening her eyes, Liz saw that even the moon had deserted her. Their night was no longer fading. It was gone. Liz stared up at Max helplessly. "Max, you should… you need to…"
"I should go," Max said softly.
"Max…"
Max closed his eyes against the teary thickness of her voice, his heart breaking along with her own. He nodded, resting his forehead against hers. "Is it horrible of me… to want those 14 years with you?" he whispered, vaguely ashamed.
"No," Liz whispered back. She caught his anguished gaze with her own. "I want them too. But it would be horrible to take them and…"
"And let the world end just so we could be…"
"Complete," Liz finished as Max’s voice broke. They stepped apart, each of them deciding that a clean break would be easiest on the other. Liz forced her fingers to unclench and allow the bunched fabric of Max’s shirt to fall from her grasp, forced herself to step back and put cold distance between them. And then she turned, moving slowly to the edge of her balcony while the isolation of the past months closed in on her. He was going to leave and she’d be… alone.
Max climbed heavily over the railing and then stopped, hesitating to move beyond the rung that kept him staring into Liz’s anguished chocolate brown eyes. "You’re not alone, Liz. We’re in this together," he assured her.
But they weren’t really together. And previous understanding aside, Max found that he was unable to truly walk away. Once he did, the instant he stepped from the safety of this balcony, and their night, into the dawn… something irreparable would separate them. For the moment, at least there was still… time.
"We don’t get any more time, Max," Liz corrected softly. "We need to let go." She nodded once, to show her sincerity and prayed he’d ignore the tears that clogged her voice.
"So… what? This is… it? We don’t ever see each other or, or talk to each other again or…" Max stuttered, almost grateful for the desperate shaking of her head which cut off his ramblings. He couldn’t help himself. They wouldn’t be together, but the thought of truly being separate from her was beyond disconcerting. After tonight, it was impossible. He needed her in his life… somehow.
Never talk to each other again? "No. Max, no!" Liz said denied swiftly. She couldn’t even imagine what it would be like to lose him completely after tonight. "We just…it’ll be like, like with Alex. We’ll just… we’ll be…"
"Friends," Max finished softly, grimacing over the moniker.
Liz nodded. "Friends," she repeated dubiously.
"Just…"
"Just friends," Liz repeated firmly. "We’ve done that before."
Max shook his head. "We were never just friends, Liz. We’ve been more than friends since the first moment I touched you. Maybe before," he contradicted softly.
Liz took a deep breath, her eyes welling with more tears at his words. He was right. And it didn’t matter. "You’re right. But now… now friends is all we can be. I wish things could be different," Liz whispered brokenly. "I wish that so much."
Max nodded, resting his forehead against her own. "Me too." He stared into her eyes, awed by the ease with which they fell into each other, as their souls urged them closer. Even the surging desolation rocketing through both of them couldn’t diminish the promise of safe harbor which would always exist... just beyond reach. Unable, unwilling to stop himself, Max tilted his head and tangled his free hand in the silk of Liz’s hair coaxing her lips to his for a delicate, profound kiss. It would have to be enough to see them through the rest of their lives. He drew away slowly, his soul trembling along with hers at the impending loss. "I just wanted…."
Liz nodded. "To remember," she whispered, swallowing hard as she finished his thought. "Good-bye Max."
"Good-bye Liz." Max whispered, ignoring the ragged tear that would forever mar his soul as he headed down the ladder.
---------Roswell, Sunrise, The morning after Prom, 2001--------------
Max hit the ground more quickly than he’d ever intended and hesitated, staring at the metal rung of the ladder. His hand hovered briefly, uncertainly in mid air before falling back to his side. He could hear Liz, softly weeping through the stillness of the dawn. Or maybe he could feel it in the stark numbness of his own soul. Unable to withstand the pain he could feel falling off of Liz in waves, Max reached up and grasped the rung that hung just over his head, intending to pull himself back up to her balcony and then… what? They’d been over this. They each knew what they had to do. And now it was dawn. Tomorrow had come and the last night they would ever spend wrapped in each other’s arms was… over. His heart cried out against the truth and the understanding of a responsibility, which offered neither solace, nor solution. Only purpose.
Max took a deep breath, unsurprised when it did nothing to stop the pain, though it did grant him a moment of focus. He stared despairingly at the metal rung in his hand. He no longer had the right to climb to her balcony… to knock on her window… to comfort her as she wept. The metal rung slowly disappeared, melting into the brick. Flattening his palm against the wall, Max watched the other rungs fade from sight, leaving no evidence of their existence against the smoothness of the brick. Someday, someone would have the right to hold Liz as she wept. But that guy would just have to use the door like a… normal boy.
Lifting his head Max turned toward the jeep, feeling the gossamer thread of their connection pull taut. He could feel it, feel what they’d begun on the rocks outside the pod chamber begin to fall apart with every step that added to their distance. The sudden magnitude of the loss roared through him, the ache almost unbearable. He cursed the dawn as even the connection they’d forged gave way to its reality. Reaching the jeep, he fell heavily into the drivers seat, feeling like the truest part of himself was dead. And everything that he’d clung to just moments ago was… gone. Unable to move, unable to breathe, Max dropped his head against the hand clinging to the steering wheel. And wept.
****Mini A/N - I'm gonna beat ya'll to it. Yep, I'm evil. But I wanted to reassure you all that Dreamer Insurance is still in effect. There's just a little (a lot? :evil: ) more that has to be dealt with before we can get to our happy dreamer ending. And after all, just think about what happened the last time they were 'just friends'...
see ya'll later
Pathos
The fact that we are fools is duly noted...
But must that be our epitaph?
-SRC
I'd be an idiot if I weren't less than pleased about being doomed.
) from now on.
) - no need to worry. I could never ignore Xan.
) 
But I wanted to reassure you all that Dreamer Insurance is still in effect. There's just a little (a lot? :evil: ) more that has to be dealt with before we can get to our happy dreamer ending. And after all, just think about what happened the last time they were 'just friends'...