Author: Liz
E-mail: CAGirl0042@aol.com
Summary: Future fic. The aliens never came to Roswell, and Liz was never shot. Her life is very different, and she's trying to deal.
Category: Max/Liz
Rating: R for language.
Part 8 Her eyes opened to the steely darkness of the room, the darkness the enveloped her, frightened her. She was terrified of the dark.
She almost cried out, but choked back the sound when he shifted against her. His strong arm wrapped around her waist, chiseled face buried in her neck.
She was safe. Finally.
She remembered being a little girl, when her dad had tucked her in at night. She'd always been so afraid for him to leave, for the light to leave with him. But too proud to tell him.
So she'd lie there, hours on end, just shivering in fright and repeating to herself that nothing bad was in her room.
It was something she'd never outgrown. A feeling she'd always had, until now.
She felt as if nothing could touch her while she was in his arms, like she could do anything. She could welcome the darkness.
She wondered if she would still be able to once he was gone.
She was thinking again of the change, as she half-comically referred to it in her mind. Her life after everything had gone so suddenly downhill. The bad-girl version of Liz Parker, the uncensored copy.
She sort of reminded herself of that girl again now, the girl she'd sworn off that day in the hospital waiting for the news that Maria was dead. Knowing that it was completely her fault. Praying to God and promising that if Maria could only live, she would never go back to that girl again.
And here she was, wrapped up in Max Evans' arms, a doctor she'd met not a week ago. Naked in his bed.
Still wanting him, even then. Yet another promise she'd broken. She tried to tell herself that it didn't matter. Or that it wasn't true. That what she was doing wasn't wrong.
The things that she felt for this man-the feelings he had stirred inside of her, even from that first simple glance, those words he'd said to her…they were overwhelming. She truly felt that she might possibly love him. But it still felt wrong.
She wondered if she could handle doing it all over again. Of course, it wouldn't be the same. In a way, yes. But wasn't it worth it…the risk, if it meant maybe finding true love?
She could not answer her own question. If only she knew that answer had already been decided.
His eyes darted open suddenly. He was panting slightly, a hangover from some dream he'd been having.
The phone rang again, shrilly breaking the silence of the room, hurting his ears.
Carefully reaching across the sleeping beauty in his arms, he grabbed the cordless that sat on the bedside table.
"Hello?"
There was a pause at the other end of the line, and a string of curses lie in wait on his tongue.
"Max?"
They disappeared slowly, and he was left with nothing but sheer exasperation.
"What is it, Izzy?"
He knew she understood what that tone meant, and he certainly hoped that she would take a hint.
"Max, what's going on?"
He sighed heavily, shifting a little against Liz.
"What are you talking about?"
"With you, Max? Who are you with?"
His eyes drifted involuntarily to her. A smile tugged at his lips. She was breathtaking.
"A woman."
It was Isabel's turn to sigh.
"Let's hope so. Who?"
"Liz Parker."
There was no use lying to his sister. They both knew the abilities they had, as aliens. To sense each other's feelings…strong emotions. He was pretty sure he'd been giving some off earlier. Very strong.
"Who in the hell is Liz Parker?"
He rolled his eyes at her outburst.
"A woman I met awhile ago."
"Oh, so you just decided that since you met her 'awhile' ago, it was fine to go ahead and fuck her?"
His hand was drawn to his throbbing temple. He wondered how she managed to give him a headache to quickly.
"Isabel.."
"I will not calm down, Max."
"Pl.."
"You cannot do this."
He sighed in resignation.
"I know."
He could tell he had shocked his sister.
"Huh?"
"I know. I've known all along, Izzy. Do you think I've forgotten? You, Micheal…everything? Never. I just…had to find out."
"Find out what?"
Her voice was softer now. He wanted to hate her for the sympathy he could tell she felt.
"If I loved her."
"And?"
"I do."
He hung up then, softly placing the phone back onto its base. As he pulled his arm back across the bed, his arm brushed across her bare breast. A tingle ran up the length of his arm, and he closed his eyes.
Wondering how he would ever let her go.
Liz listened to his conversation, never opening her eyes. Even though she heard only Max, she knew what was going on. She'd known the moment she started this. That it had to end.
He was talking to someone, apparently someone close to him. She wondered momentarily if it was his girlfriend. 'Izzy' he called her. She felt sick.
And she wondered at her jealousy. She didn't have the right. It was just sex. Nothing more.
She thought for the first time of earlier that night, and recalled Maria in the car.
No…it wasn't sex. It was coffee. Just coffee.
The next thing she remembered was waking up, for the 3rd time that morning.
The bright afternoon sunlight was streaming through the thin curtains, streaming through her closed lids and reminding her of what today would hold.
Her heartbreak.
She finally opened her eyes to the sunlight. She didn't want the sun to be shining. She wanted it to rain, she needed the rain. The rain could wash away everything, give her a new beginning. She could forget everything that had happened all of these horrible years, and start again. Nothing would have to be the same ever again.
She didn't even have to turn around to know that he was gone. She'd known even as she slept, somehow.
And even before she moved, or stood, she knew there was a note on the pillow. His pillow, the one he had rested his head upon only the night before. The pillow that would now be empty, save that note.
His goodbye note, words from a coward too afraid to face her with the truth. Did he think that she wouldn't know? That she wouldn't understand?
She understood better than anyone. It couldn't work. It could never work. Something in both of them would hold it back, forever, until both of them broke. It was better this way. It was he who did not understand.
She waited just one more minute before she finally stood, soaked in the feeling of his bed and the soft sheets, of lying there for just that short time and knowing how it felt.
Then she did stand, swinging her legs over the edge of the bed and pulling herself up, willing her legs to hold her up even though she felt as if she could fall. She wasn't weak. She wouldn't allow herself to be weak.
She dressed quickly, brushing her hair and putting it back into a messy bun. She wore no makeup.
Slipped on her shoes, grabbed her purse from the table by the front door and quietly slipped out.
She never read the note that he had left.
She never looked back.
Part 9 He waited until she was gone before he came back. He'd been watching, parked in his car behind the bushes at the end of the road.
He felt weak, and sad, and empty. Like a coward.
He'd let her go…let her go without a word. There was no goodbye, no last kiss, nothing. Just a note. He hoped that she could understand. He wasn't sure that he did.
When she finally passed, driving slowly by in her car, her expression blank and her face pale, he drove out from behind the bushes. He headed for his home.
When he walked into the bedroom, his eye fell upon it immediately. Still in the same position as he had left it, lying upon the pillow this morning. Untouched.
Unexpected tears welled up in his eyes. She had not even read his note.
She would never know.
Small, measured steps and then he was beside the bed, trembling hand reaching out to delicately seize the small sheet of paper. Sparse words, but so much said. Words she would never read.
'Dearest Liz,
Please, try to understand why I must do this. Know that you do mean something to me, and it wasn't just a one night stand. There was so much more. But nothing else can ever happen between us. I can't exactly explain why, but I hope that in time, you can forgive me. Maybe we'll run into each other again.
I love you.
Max.'
The only sound to be heard in the room was the ripping of paper.
The steps seemed to go on forever as she climbed them, looming above her. Her legs were aching already. She longed for rest.
Maria appeared in the doorway, her face concerned, rushing down to meet her.
"Liz?"
She didn't answer her, just kept on walking. She just wanted to get upstairs. She wanted to sleep. She wanted to never wake up again. The door was before her, a giant welcome. The bed was just a little ahead, and she began to walk faster as she approached it.
"Liz?"
Maria's voice was louder this time, but she barely heard it. It was drowned out by the thoughts in her head, so loud that they overpowered everything else. Rolling and tumbling around and around each other, like a spin cycle inside her brain. She wished she could turn them off.
She dropped onto the bed, pulling her legs closely to her, breathing in and closing her eyes to the delicious sleep that was already overcoming her.
"Liz?"
She didn't even open her eyes to look at Maria. She could see her in her mind, standing in the doorway of the room, staring down at her worriedly. It was almost irritating.
"What?"
She heard her sigh of relief, and the soft sound of carpet as she stepped closer.
"What happened?"
"It was coffee. Just coffee."
She knew at that moment that she would never be able to keep her promise. As hard as she wanted to take it back, the change had happened in her. It had been something that had taken her over so completely, that she would never be able to reverse it. Even though it hurt her, and hurt those around her. Those she had once loved so dearly.
She could never be the old Liz Parker. There was no more rain, nothing more that could cleanse it all away. She was left with the aftermath. She was left with the new Liz Parker.
And she couldn't help but think that the new Liz Parker was the Liz that Max had known. She didn't want to let that go, either.
When she said nothing else, she could hear Maria moving away from her. She had figured it out, too.
The truth about everything. About life, perhaps.
Maybe she had figured it out long before Liz had. Maybe that was why she'd said goodbye last night in the car. Maybe it was why she'd said it was 'just coffee.' Because it was anything but.
It wasn't just coffee.
It was the rest of her life.
She heard Maria walk through the door, pulling it shoftly shut behind her. Gently clicking off the overhead light as she left.
And when the light had gone, and Liz was left alone in the dark with only her thoughts, she thougth again of her fear.
Standing up, she turned the light back on.
Now she had the answer to her question.