Fortune Favors the Brave
Disclaimer: Neither Rachelle nor I own anything in Roswell and Smallville, although we wish we did! The title, Fortune Favors the Brave, belongs to Tim Rice and Elton John, from the Disney musical, Aida.
A/N This is fic is written by two authors, Alex (MagickFantasy86) and Rachelle(DarkSorceress). Rachelle has a tendency to lurk, but you'll see me a lot. Also, the two of us will be moving to opposite sides of the country in a few months, and thus we will have to correspond via e-mail. How this will affect the outcome of the story, I don't know, but it will keep going, even if we only talk to each other twice a year.
Synopsis: Roswell and Smallville, two small towns in the middle of nowhere with a lot of alien activity. What if the two towns had more connections than just at the surface? Especially considering our favorite human and nonhuman main teen-aged characters.
Now onwards we venture.
Prologue- The Beginning
1986
Nancy Parker rubbed her eyes tiredly before returning her gaze to the artificially lit road before her. She yawned slightly and flipped on the radio to try to stay alert. Her mind started wandering away from the monotony of the tiny road into Roswell, replaying the evening. It was definitely good to see her sister after so many years. The restaurant noise and conversation flowed through her mind. She glanced at the clock on her dashboard for a second before scanning the empty, flat expanse of the road ahead.
Some sort of debris twinkled softly on the road. She squinted ahead of her , then shrugged, dismissing it as a pile of beer bottles from a crashed teenage part. Nancy looked over to the passenger seat of her car for the phone to call her sister, make sure she was on her way home. Nancy gripped the phone in her hand and lifted her eyes to the road. A little girl stood frozen near the edge of the street, staring into the headlights. She seemed to sparkle in the moonlight. Nancy was mesmerized, unable to stop the car from speeding toward the child. "Oh God!" The spell broke as a phantom hand latched onto the girl's forearm, ripping her from the road.
Nancy swerved her car to the dirt on the opposite side of the road, pushing the car into park. She threw open her car door and knelt at the roadside, staring across the way. There were two of them now, a boy and a girl. 'They can't be more than three years old,' she thought. The boy stared intently at her with unrelenting distrust, as if he blamed her for nearly crashing into his... friend? sister? The girl smiled softly, slipping her hand into the boy's hand to pacify his anger.
"Hi, honey," Nancy said. "Where did you come from?" The girl laughed and scratched her head. She took a step onto the road. Laughing still, she smiled at Nancy and turned back to the little boy. The two stared at each other intently, seeming to communicate silently for a few moments before the little boy took the girl's hand and hesitantly stepped onto the road. The boy and girl looked once more up at Nancy. Working quickly, afraid the boy might convince the girl to run from her, Nancy wrapped the two in blankets from her car's trunk and ushered the children into the car. With the two little children safely buckled into the back seat, Nancy drove anxiously back to Roswell.
One week later:
Ring. Ring. Nancy picked up the phone in the back room of the diner she and her husband, Jeff, owned, known as the Crashdown.
"Hello?" Nancy asked hesitantly into the mouthpiece of the phone.
"Nancy?" Sheriff Jim Valenti's voice came through the phone. "About those children you brought in last week..." Nancy's heart began to race. "I need you to come over to the orphanage as soon as you have time. Nancy? Nancy?" Jim's voice echoed throughout the empty back room, as the phone swung, gently hitting the wall, hanging from its cord.
Jim met Nancy just inside the doors of the orphanage. Soft wailing could be heard echoing off the ceramic tile floors.
"What's wrong?" Nancy asked, her breath coming in short gasps.
"We don't know. She's been crying since we brought Kyle home."
"Kyle?" Nancy grabbed onto Jim, stopping him.
"The boy. Michelle and I adopted him." Nancy nodded reflectively before continuing forward.
"Has anyone asked her what's wrong?"
"We've tried. Neither she nor Kyle has spoken a word since you brought them in last week." Nancy and Jim pushed through the doors that led to the main children's room.
The moment Nancy stepped into the room, the wailing stopped. The small brown haired girl sitting in the middle of the floor turned around, her eyes shining. To the astonishment of everyone in the room, the girl opened her mouth and uttered the first word anyone had ever hear her say.
"Mommy!"
Laura Lang searched the dark landscape for familiar neon lights. The desert stretched on for miles all around her. She sighed, glancing down at the gas gage in her car.
"Hallelujah," she whispered, speeding past a sign boasting a Route 66 in ten miles. She sped along the deserted road to the gas station breathing in the neon lights of civilization after the hour and a half of nothingness since she left Roswell. She connected the nozzle to her car and ran inside as the gas flooded into the tank. She waited until the pump snapped off and reached out to pay the clerk, grabbing a Baby Ruth as an after thought. She dropped her change into the Plexiglas box proclaiming support for children in Africa, the worn faces on the poster tugging on her heartstrings. She shred the wrapper on the candy, letting the chocolate coat her mouth as she pushed out the door.
"Oh my goodness!" She thrust her hands out to catch herself as she fell toward the ground. She flipped around to curse the object that tripped her; her tongue froze in her mouth. Two little girls sat on the curb staring at her with wide eyes. Laura pushed herself up onto her knees, still clutching the chocolate in her fist. the first girl shivered a little under the fluorescent lights, hiding her eyes under her sheet or brown hair. The second child, a blonde girl, studied Laura with a critical expression on her face, glancing longingly at the candy occasionally. "Here, take it..." Laura unfolded her fist, bearing the chocolate. The blonde girl snatched the candy from her hand, greedily pushing the candy toward her mouth. The other girl stopped her arm and the two of them locked eyes. Laura's eyes flicked between the two girls until, eventually, the blonde girl sighed. She glanced at the candy in her small hand. The candy shuddered and split itself down the center. When both girls had had their chocolate, they looked up and met Laura's shocked, wide eyes. "What are you?"
The girls exchanged a glance and looked back into Laura's eyes. "Where did you come from?" Laura struggled to keep her voice even. The dark haired girl stretched out her arm, her eyes expectant. Laura moved to touch the girl's hand. At the instant they touched, a jolt of power rocketed through her body, pushing flashes of images into Laura's head: an explosion... a feeling of fear and confusion... the moonlight on the sand... the girls scrambling on the Roswellian desert... a sense of infinite loss... faces of a boy and a girl smiling, emanating a feeling of love... the gas station lights... Laura's face. An intense wave of emotion passed through Laura, causing her pulse to race. Tears cut paths down her cheeks as she opened her eyes and looked down at the girl. The child squeezed her hand and stared up at Laura, silently pleading with her eyes. "Come on, honey. I'll take care of you." Her voice cracked as she glanced at the two girls. "Both of you, I promise."
"What do you mean I can't adopt them both?" Laura Lang sat, perched nervously on the edge of her chair, the phone clutched lightly to her ear.
"I'm sorry ma'am." The woman's voice was broken in the ear piece. "But you husband's income and yours combined are simply not enough to support both girls. Besides, the blonde girl has already been adopted."
"What?" Laura's heart began to race. What if someone found out the girls were different. They could be in danger.
"Could you at least tell me the family's name?"
"I'm sorry ma'am, but that's against our policy. Their records are supposed to be sealed until the child turns eighteen."
"But the girls are sisters." Laura could feel the despair rushing through her.
"Ma'am, we don't know that for sure." The woman's high nasal voice was really beginning to piss Laura off.
"They were found together in the middle of nowhere, naked! They were supporting each other! What else are we supposed to think? Please, a name, that's all I ask. Just so they can still see each other every once in a while." There were a few moments of silence.
"Gabe Sullivan."
"Excuse me?"
"His name is Gabe Sullivan."
Smallville, 1989
Thunder reverberated through the ground. Lightning, an eerie shade of green, flashed against the purple clouds. Great glowing rocks fell from the sky. Panic ran throughout the small town in the middle of Kansas. In the middle of town, a young girl with long, brown hair cried out in horror as she watched her parents destroyed by the strange glowing rocks. The intensity of the falling rocks until three large booms echoed through the air. The meteors stopped falling. In the following silence, three unknown pairs of eyes looked out with curiosity into the deepening darkness.
Roswell
Nancy sat nervously in the back room couch, wringing her hands, staring intently at the television screen in the corner. She watched, holding her breath, as the glowing meteors fell on Smallville, Kansas. The young girl, now Liz Parker, was over at the Valenti residence with Kyle and Michelle Valenti. Sheriff Valenti stood hovering over Nancy.
"I don't understand," he said, glancing down at Nancy. "I've never seen anything like this. Maybe we should wait unti-"
"No." Nancy broke in, shaking her head. "If something this terrible is happening in Smallville, I want to know my family is safe." She looked up at him, trying not to cry.
"All right... I'll head out and call the Sheriff's office there and on the way back, I'll check on the kids."
"Oh! And Amy too!"
"What? Amy who?" Nancy raised her eyebrows.
"Amy DeLuca."
"What is she doing out there? Nevermind. I'll be back when I hear anything." Valenti picked his hat up from the vacant seat and pushed through the door to the main cafe floor. He walked across the floor and raised his hand to push open the door. Thunk! He froze as a hollow crash echoed behind him. He whirled around to see several chairs had fallen from their inverted positions on top of the tables. Nancy burst through the door.
"What happened?" Jim knelt down next to the nearest chair to him.
"I don't know. Something shook them off I guess. I need to go check on our kids and that meteor shower."
Traffic was terrible. People were running around frantically, confused as to what had just happened. Riots were breaking; people were threatening to loot. The police station was strained for personnel and as such, it was dark before Jim finally reached home. Walking in through the front door of his small ranch style home he called out "Michelle!" but no one answered.
"Michelle!" he called again. Silence remained in the household.
Jim found both Kyle and Liz staring intently through the back door window, which looked out into the desert.
"Hey Kyle, do you know where your mother is?" Neither child answered him. "Hey kids, what are you looking at?" Liz turned to glance at him with her large, brown eyes.
"They're coming," she said. Small creases formed on Jim's forehead as he frowned.
"Who's coming?" But both children were once again staring intently through the window.
At that moment the phone rang.
Jim rushed to pick up the phone.
"Hello?"
"Sheriff?" Deputy Hanson's voice came over the line, barely audible above the static. "We've got a situation down at the station. A kid was found naked, wandering around out in the desert." Jim sighed and pushed his hand through his hair.
"All right. I'll be there in twenty minutes."
Three hours later, two more children were brought in after being found wandering naked in the desert by Phillip and Diane Evans, two lawyers who were thinking of moving into the area.
Smallville, a few hours earlier.
"Gabe, she is the most adorable girl I've ever seen!" Amy DeLuca sat in the living room of the new home recently bought by Gabe Sullivan, an old college buddy of Amy's. Gabe's adopted daughter, Chloe, sat reading Dr. Suess on the floor.
"Yeah, she's a beauty, isn't she " He reached down to ruffle her hair, causing the girl to giggle.
"Daaaaaddyyy!" Chloe swatted at his hand and picked up her book. Amy laughed.
"Gabe?"
"Hmmm?"
"I have a sort of strange question." She paused, listening to the sounds beyond the window. "IS something going on outside?"
"What?" His eyes unfocused as he listened. Crashes muffled by distance echoed off of the walls. "I don't know. Probably just a distant hailstorm or someone working outside. Don't worry about it."
"Oh." Gave raised an eyebrow.
"Was that the question, Amy?" She glanced down at Chloe, a ghost of a sad smile playing across her lips.
"No..." She slid off the couch to the floor, sitting next to Chloe. the girl smiled up at Amy and offered her book to share. "Gabe, I want this."
"The book?"
"No," she laughed. "A little girl, a daughter. Do you think I could... I mean..."
"Amy, I have no doubt you'd raise a beautiful daughter." Chloe's small squeaking yawn broke into their conversation. Gave and Amy glanced down a the top of Chloe's blonde head and smiled. " I think it's time to put this little lady to bed. You can stay if..." Amy waved her hand in negation.
"I need to get going anyway. It was nice seeing you, though."
"Same here." Gabe and Amy stood up and hugged. " You look after yourself, now. And tell Brian I said hi."
"Will do." They walked to the door and Gabe opened it slightly for Amy. Amy peaked her head out. " Looks like your storm is almost over. See ya." And then Amy stepped out into the darkening evening. She cast a final glance up at the sky before and orange glow caught her eye. "Strange..." She looked at her watch for a moment before getting into her car and driving toward the light.
As she got closer, the headlights on her Jetta illuminated the edge of a cornfield. The fire brightened the night, consuming the crop. Amy drew a little closer, squinting her eyes, trying to see the source of the blaze.
"Oh my..." She breathed. Tongues of flame leapt around a bulky black shadow that from her vantage point looked surprisingly like a wrecked car. She threw open the car door and ran toward the shape. "I'm coming... I can help you!" She yelled toward the unseen victim of the crash. When she was close to fifty yards away, the car exploded, sending a shock wave through the field, lifting Amy off of her feet and slamming her onto her back several feet away. "Hold...on," she muttered before passing out, surrounded by scorched cornstalks.
Amy blinked her eyes several times, trying to focus them. She rolled her head to the side to try and ease the throbbing behind her eyes. A soft hand pushed the hair off of her face.
"Who?" She looked over and met a pair of green eyes. Amy sat up, wincing slightly, to stare at the naked little girl that seemed to be trying to take care of her. The two stared at each other for awhile before the girl glanced over her shoulder at the smoldering remains of the "car." "Is that where you came from?" Amy whispered. The girl looked back at Amy, seeming to ignore the question and held out her hand a with a smile. Amy's heart melted and a tear slid down her cheek. She scooped up the girl and ambled slowly to the Jetta. When she closed the driver door and brought the engine to life, she looked at the girl buckled into the back seat and smiled. Amy put her car in drive and drove on instinct rather than knowledge. As the anxiety mounted in her veins, she put more pressure on the accelerator, tearing out onto the nearly empty highway and past the sign "You are now leaving Smallville. 150 miles to Metropolis." Amy flicked her eyes to the child again, gripping the wheel harder. "150 miles..." she murmured, flicking the turn signal to merge into the fast lane. "Jetta don't fail me now."
Charles Whitman sighed heavily as he braced himself for the helicopter landing. He hated the bureaucratic bullshit that came with these things. He was an engineer, not a business man, but Lionel Luthor often seemed to care more about the earnings than the actual product. There was no point to coming with Lionel on these plant tours. Lionel didn't care if the plant operation was working perfectly or if the plant was spewing out dangerous chemicals: he only cared if a profit was being made, no matter how he had to get one. Smallville, Kansas was merely one step in a long, long list of plants to see.
Charles Whitman had just stepped out of the helicopter behind Lex and Lionel Luthor, when a heated blast at his back threw him into the air. He landed on a farmer's forgotten haystack twenty yards from the helicopter. Wincing as he moved, Charles turned to look at the helicopter. Black smoke bellowed up from the leaping flames coming from the ruins. Embedded in the hull of the helicopter was a large glowing green rock. Charles glanced around for other survivors. He found Lionel Luthor lying unconscious, but not seriously hurt, a few yards from him; Lex was nowhere to be found.
Charles stumbled dizzily into the neighboring cornfield, searching for the boy. He might not have like Lionel Luthor, but his son was still an innocent... for now. He stumbled dazedly into an open portion of the field. Lex Luthor lay in the center, all the hair gone from his head. A young, dark haired boy of about six stood peering over Lex. The boy had no clothes on. As Charles took another step forward, the boy turned his head sharply toward Charles. The man and boy stood there for a few moments, staring at each other until sirens could be heard faintly in the distance. The boy tensed and Charles feared the boy might run off.
"Wait, don't go anywhere. Just stay here and I'll be back really soon. Okay?" The boy just stared at him, making no motions that he understood. Charles gingerly picked up Lex Luthor and carried the boy out to the waiting ambulances. The Paramedics tried to examine Charles, but he waved them off, insisting that all he needed was a phone to call his wife, Gloria.
"Metropolis, please," he said to the operator over the phone. "Honey? Can you drive down to Smallville? I can't talk about it over the phone. I'll show you when you get here. Bye, honey."
Making sure that no one saw him, Charles slipped back into the cornfield. He found the boy sitting patiently, exactly where Charles had left him.
The boy's eyes lit up excitedly when he saw Charles enter the clearing. The boy jumped up and tugged on Charles' hand- HARD, urging him further into the cornfield. Charles stumbled after the boy, wheezing in exhaustion , and blinked a few times when the two reached their destination.
Charles had to shake his head a few times to make sure that he wasn't imagining things. Standing in the middle of the field, barely hidden by the stalks, was a ship. It looked like on of the model space ships from an old fifties TV show. The boy touched the hull of the ship and it glowed slightly, seeming to recognize his touch.
"We're going to need a truck," Charles said to the surrounding cornfield.
Two weeks later, Charles Whitman was waiting nervously in Lionel Luthor's office in Metropolis. He and Gloria had been forced to hand the boy over to the authorities, but they had managed to get the ship out of the cornfield without anyone noticing, or so Charles hoped. The ship was now stored in a privately owned garage on the outskirts of Metropolis and only he and Gloria had the keys to the garage. But now, here he was, in Luthor's office. He sincerely hoped Lionel hadn't seen anything.
Lionel entered briskly through a side door and sat down with little ceremony, simply staring at Charles. Charles gulped slightly.
"Uh- how's you son, Lex, doing, Mr. Luthor?" He folded his hands neatly in his lap, trying to hide his anxiety. Lionel smiled slightly.
"Oh, he's doing fine. He seems to be perfectly healthy. I wanted to thank you, by the way, for helping him."
"Oh, it was nothi-"
"But that's not why I asked you in here."
"It's not?" Charles' voice shook slightly.
"No. I wanted to know if you saw anything... unusual that day." Charles' legs were shaking under the desk.
"Um- besides the glowing meteors... no." Charles hoped he hadn't sounded too scared. Lionel's smile grew smaller, if that was possible. He sighed slightly.
"Very well. That's all; you may go." Charles started to stand up, but then sat back down.
"Mr. Luthor, about that boy that I found." Luthor's eyebrows went up. "I was wondering if it was possible for Gloria and I to adopt him?" Luthor's smile grew wider than Charles had ever seen.
Later that day, Charles turned in his two weeks notice.
Back on the day of the meteor shower, a young married couple were driving on the dust country road in their brand new, red truck. They had almost reached their farm house when a car, wrecked by the meteors, blocked the road. Turning sharply, the man tried to avoid the flaming car, but only succeeded in flipping the truck off the road. The couple sat upside-down in silence. The heavy base of the truck started to crush the roof of the cabin. The couple grabbed each others hands, sure that this was the end.
The truck shuddered slightly as it began to rise. A small face peaked in through the window. The young boy with black hair smiled broadly as he continued to lift the truck. The couple spoke amazedly at the same time.
"Martha-"
"Jonathan!"
Roswell: September 19th, 1999
Liz Parker put the old faded photograph back into the pocket of her alien head shaped apron and smiled as she turned around. She glanced slightly at another table in her section where Max Evans and Michael Guerin sat as she wove her way between tables, heading toward the waitress station . Her best friend, Maria, who was waiting for her there, bumped Liz with her hip.
"You are so bad, girl!" They smiled at each other knowingly.
Plates clattered to the floor; the sound echoed through the busy cafe. All conversation stopped save for tow men sitting next to the wall.
"I want my money now!"
Liz froze in place as the gunshot rang throughout the cafe. She shuddered against the sharp pain in her stomach, falling to the floor. Thoughts ran frantically through her mind. This is it. I'll never learn why I'm here. They'll find something different with me and I'll get dissected and then they'll suspect that Kyle is- She felt her uniform rip apart. A strong warm hand touched her stomach, sending shocks coursing through her blood. A deep voice that sent shivers down her back sounded over her fallen form. The voice sounded so desperate and familiar and loving-
"Liz! You have to look at me!"
A/N: Yes! We know Valenti wasn't the sheriff when Max, Isabel, and Michael were found. And we know that Max and Isabel were found first, but just work with us here! Hope you liked it!