The Dream Is Within
By: Allie (allie kiwi)
Rating: PG
Post finale. Michael Guerin reflects on life's little rituals one night.
Disclaimer: I wish I owned them, but sadly any claim I have is purely delusional.
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A minor earthquake, epi-centred at the other side of his bed, awoke Michael Guerin from slumber. To say he was peeved would be an understatement, as his favourite hockey team, The Winnipeg Spiders, had just signed him up to play, James from Metallica had phoned to congratulate him, and Miss June was going to be accompanying him to the after match party of his inaugural game. That Miss June somehow resembled a certain Roswellian blond named Maria Deluca was not surprising; the earthquake in question was actually Maria thrashing about in her sleep.
"Maria, wake up." He roughly shook her by the shoulder.
"No, no!" She moaned, pushing at him. "I believe!"
"Yeah, I believe too. But I try to do it more quietly."
He tried to pull her into his arms for a hug to calm her down, but Maria struggled against him. "They don't believe in us anymore!"
Michael sighed. It was obviously going to be a long night. Why had no one ever told him girls talked in their sleep? And that they made as little sense then as they did when they were awake?
Leaning back against his pillow, he linked his hands behind his head and stared at the ceiling where Maria had put some of those sticky star things, the moonlight making them glow in the V shaped constellation of the home he would never see in this lifetime. It had become a ritual. Every place they stopped, Maria put those stars up. Or rather, she directed operations as he put the stars up. He was tall for a reason, she said. And why make her stand precariously on a chair when he was there? It didn't matter if it was a hotel room they were bunking down in just for one night, the stars became resident above their bed, giving them a sense of consistency and homeliness.
Max and Liz had their ritual as well. Somewhere along the way Liz had found a candlestick, a pretty ugly one, but it had the perfect number of candles - one each for those who had been left behind. Isabel had cried when she saw how Max had changed it so each candle sat on a space etched with the face of the persona it represented. Her finger had caressed firstly the outlines of her mother and father, then Jesse, and lastly her finger lingered on Alex.
Each night they would light vanilla candles, keeping the memories with them of their family back in Roswell, and their friend Alex. And as Liz said - the vanilla also helped to stop them smelling the ever present stench of old cigarette smoke, in whatever dump they were currently living. Maria said only Liz could be so practical about something so emotional. But Liz insisted that the flames were not to represent sadness, but eternity, like the eternal flame in church. An eternity of conviction; an eternity of love. There was a line from a song she once heard "... a flame will burn in the secret hearts of man - an ever lasting light of love." So she and Max determinedly continued to light their candles, hands linked as their hearts were.
Turning over on his side, Michael glanced at Maria whose mutterings were now muted by the pillow she had pressed her face into. Her hands were wrenching at the pillowcase, and had torn it in one place. Reaching out a hand he touched the torn area, fixing it with an ease born of long hours of practice on the road. He then began to soothingly stroke her long hair, tangled from her restless movements. "Shhhh, it's ok." He murmured.
"Everyone needs to clap their hands... we'll be ok then."
Michael smirked. He recognised the theme of Maria's dream now. A video store about 3 towns ago had had a special deal on Disney movies. His ears still rung from the delighted shriek Maria had uttered when she discovered Peter Pan on the shelf. Not as good as the Muppet Movie perhaps, but still up there in the Maria Deluca top 10 children's movies of all time, apparently. He seemed to remember that she had even dressed as Stinkerbell, uh ... Tinkerbell... one halloween.
The girls had done some silly girly thing, giggling over ice cream as they watched movie after movie, discussing which was the best heroine, and which one they would be if it were real life.
Michael had just snorted in derision, and gone back to watching hockey, while Kyle and Max happily continued their month long discussion of the finer points of theology and philosophy. He managed to shut out the background noise and concentrate on the commentary until he realised the girls were now giggling over which hero he, Max, and Kyle would be. Max wouldn't have been so cheerful if he'd known Liz was discussing how he would look in tights. He might be Prince Charming come to life, but that didn't mean he wasn't a real man underneath, where it counted.
The room was briefly illuminated the by the headlights of the returning microbus, interrupting his train of thought. Isabel and Kyle had obviously returned from their late night stargazing. That was Isabel's ritual, with Kyle going along for company. Michael wasn't sure what she was seeing when she looked to the sky, and all Kyle would say was "What we see depends mainly on what we look for." Michael was quite sure Kyle quoted obscure sources purely to get on his nerves. And it worked.
"Michael?"
He turned to the bleary eyed girl lying beside him, awake finally from the night terror that had possessed her.
"I dreamed we were all sick, and you lost your powers, because no one believed in us anymore."
Michael lay silent for a moment, his mind dwelling on the fear that each one of them shared in a little. What was the cliché? 'Out of sight, out of mind?' "It'll never happen, cheesehead."
"How can you be so sure, you dorkbutt?" Michael winced a little as her elbow connected with his ribcage.
He pulled her close to him, and lay with her looking up at their stars. "Because everyone at home is keeping our light alive. Your mother, the sheriff, the Parkers and Evans'... they all believe in us, and are probably doing just what we are. Looking to the stars and thinking of us. Lighting candles, and dreaming of a future when we can all be back together."
He glanced down and found her asleep, a peaceful smile on her face.
Nothing is as real as a dream. The world can change around you, but your dream will not. Responsibilities need not erase it. Duties need not obscure it. Because the dream is within you, no one can take it away.
--Unknown
The end.