Not
By Tracy (biancaheart@yahoo.com)
Rating: PG
Category: Destiny Ficlet, Liz POV
Summary: During "Destiny", Liz comes to term with the meaning of a gunshot…
Disclaimer: I don't own Roswell. Not doing this for money. Don't sue. Leave feedback, though, please J.
Gunshots.
I shudder.
I hate the sounds of guns…if it wasn't for Max…I wouldn't be here today. I'd be…not…
Pierce runs away. A flash of light from Michael, and Pierce is not a problem for us anymore.
Valenti picks up the gun.
"It's one of mine." He says in a hushed voice.
His guns. I remember Kyle showing me the gun rack this summer, the first time I went over to his house. He thought they would impress me, I guess. But he was most proud of his trophy for winning the New Mexico Junior Rifle competition. Or how he took me outside and we got in a fight with Kyle's water gun collection.
How would one of Valenti's guns…
No…it can't be.
It's just not possible.
And then he's pushing, pushing through the displays and everything that fell down because of Pierce.
And there's Kyle.
Something flies towards me. I'm hit and I fall to the floor. I feel blood. My blood, hot and sticky. I feel heat. I am on the floor of the Crashdown. I'm shot. I can't breathe. I'm dying.
Maria reaches out and grips my hand.
I am Liz Parker, and I'm alive. I'm standing in the UFO center in Roswell, New Mexico.
I'm alive.
Kyle is not.
It still hurts to breathe.
Life without Kyle. I can't imagine it. I've known him forever, since we were toddlers and our mothers would go shopping while our dads played cards and drank beer. We haven't always been close, but he's always been around.
He was my first kiss. My first real boyfriend.
He taught me how to swim. I helped him escape remedial science.
I broke his heart.
He was just happy to be nominated.
He was my friend.
A world without Kyle…football players dressed in black, a funeral in the Roswell Cemetery. Saying goodbye to a friend and knowing that they'll never come back. Too young to die…not fair.
"Help my son.." The sheriff pleads. I've never seen him look so helpless. He's not an enemy or an imposing figure, making sure hands stay in right places while Kyle and I watch a movie. He's just a father, holding his son.
Max places his hand on Kyle's chest.
A gentle, warm feeling invades my chest.
I remember dying, staring up at the Crashdown ceiling. Max's eyes. And then a second of nothing. Full animation, the world going at a thousand times speed. Everyone crowding around me as if I was hurt.
I smell ketchup in the air.
My gaze meets Kyle's. I see fear, anger, and hurt in his eyes. I know my brown eyes mirror his blue ones.
I'm no longer alone.
When I woke up this morning, I was the only human to be resurrected by an alien. Now I'm not.
Kyle's world is no longer the same. He's been pushed into our elite little club. Things just got a lot more complicated for him.
He is not the same Kyle Valenti he was.
I am not the same Liz Parker.
I'd like to say that I'm ready for the future…but I'm not.