Disclaimer - I own nothing, 'cept Cady and Michelle. It all belongs to Melinda Metz, Jason Katims, Fox etc. etc.
Rating - PG-13
Author's Note - Thanks to everyone who told me that this was a decent story and encouraged me to post it.
I always thought of Michael as a bit of a Heathcliff. A loner, a misfit. Then again I was Cathy, a wild little thing as a kid, Hurricane DeLuca, that was me. In elementary school I could beat up any boy, or girl, who challenged me. We were the terrors of our class, Michael and I, 5th grade. Our teacher feared us, he loathed us. It was only when I met him again at my mother's wedding that I realized that he knew from the start how much he had in common with Michael. The hurt of an abusive father. The loneliness of being unwanted. We were the ones who eventually caused his breakdown. Dorkbutt and Cheesehead. We were horrible. I loved him even then. We were Catherine and Heathcliff. We loved each other but all we could do was hurt each other. When Brody appeared on the scene, I couldn't help but go after him. I was suffering from the Catherine syndrome as much as he was to Heathcliff. After the end of fifth grade I pushed him to the back of my mind, I forgot him. It wasn't until the day that Liz was shot that I started to really think about our adventures then. I changed after that year, I was no longer Hurricane DeLuca, I was no longer Cheesecurl girl. I turned into a girly-girl in a lot of ways, I wanted to be like Isabel and Liz, and Gracie and Maggie in some ways. I wanted to be smart, I wanted to be beautiful, I wanted to be wanted. I never knew that I always was.
I loved him then, I love him now. It never would have lasted. Brody was my Edgar, my rebound guy who lasted forever. Sure he was older, but he was also rich. Michael was gone, not in the physical sense at first, but he had given up on me. He had decided that we couldn't be together, so I went for my second choice.
I never realized until the day that I agreed to marry Brody that Michael still loved me. I saw him walk away as I said yes. He didn't return for years. No one knew where he went, but he came back.
When he returned I was pregnant with our first child, mine, and Brody's, Sydney was his first. She died, just two weeks after our wedding, she was so happy that day. It was sudden, her death I mean, she collapsed not long after our wedding. I asked Max to help her, but he couldn't, maybe he wouldn't. She died, I did love her. She was my daughter in so many ways, not by birth, but I had adopted her before we got married. She was my daughter, she was so vibrant in the final couple of months, she had been in remission.
He came back; he kissed me like he had so many times in the past, before destiny, before Brody, before Isabel, before Courtney. When it was MichaelandMaria, we were one, we were whole. He kissed me and the whole world fell away. But then he was gone. Not from Roswell this time, but from my life. He left Roswell when we were 18. He left me when we were 21.
He did marry Isabel. They had been meant to be. He never loved her as anything other than a sister. She loved Alex. They stayed "together" even after Michael and Isabel's marriage. She had loved him from the very beginning. She never said so in so many words, but she loved him because he was the only person who loved her for being her, for being beautiful on the inside.
Liz and Max, they ended up together, as everyone always knew they would. They married straight after high school graduation. They went on to Harvard together. They were the archetypal high school sweethearts. Michael and I were the horror story. We loved each other, we hurt each other, we hurt other people. We ruined our lives.
He left me when he realized that I was staying with Brody. I couldn't leave Brody. I loved him, I had made a commitment, WE had made a child. He and Isabel married only weeks later in Las Vegas, they were both drunk. All I can remember saying when I was told about what happened was "Did they have things drawn on their faces in black marker pen?" Childish I know, but I was upset. They got married the day that Aradia was born. No one wanted to tell me, so I didn't know until they had been married for months. They did come back but I didn't see them, I was busy with my new baby. No one ever called Aradia by her full name, as a private joke we all called her Cady, not against her but about me and my obsession with Night World books back in my freshman year of high school, before Michael, before Max and Isabel, before destiny.
Now to why I'm writing this, and why I'm writing this now. I know I always loved him, and Brody always knew. Even when we were in the throws of being newlyweds he would occasionally ask me whether I still had issues with Michael. He never told me, I had to hear through Alex, I used to shiver and call out for him in my sleep. They all promised they would never tell. I drove myself near enough to a nervous breakdown trying to push all thoughts of him out of my mind. It didn't work. He was always there. So when Cady was three years old, when we were just about to move away, I sought him out. I went to him at work. I took him to my mom's house. I took her Jetta. I drove him to the nookie motel where we had spoken properly for the first time since fifth grade. I kissed him.
I put all the feelings that I had ever had for him into that kiss. Every emotion that I had ever bottled up. Everything I had in me.
Then I waited.
I waited for a response.
He kissed me back. He slid his arms around my waist and he pulled me to him. He kissed me like there was no tomorrow. I got the flashes that I had always wanted when we were in high school. The ones Liz got in sophomore year just before Tess arrived, before destiny, before Brody. I felt like I was flying. I saw stars, I saw the crash, I saw his life with Hank. I felt his hurt when Max and Isabel left him, I felt the sting of tears when no one wanted him. I saw myself in the Crashdown, waiting tables. I saw myself at ten years old, sticking my tongue out at him, him pulling my curls and chasing me. I knew he still loved me. I knew he cared. Then it happened.
We never slept together before "destiny", or BD as I ended up calling it. We never slept together after either, not before that night. We both knew that it was the last time we would ever be together. I had promised myself that I would let him go.
I can't explain it. It was better than anything that I had ever felt before. And more heartbreaking. Waking up in the morning we kissed slowly, got up, and went back to Roswell.
Brody, Cady and I left that day. We had packed up all our stuff and sent it away. I never saw Roswell again after that. I never saw him again.
Except in your eyes.
Brody always knew that you weren't his. He never said anything but he knew. You smiled up at him with the pout and the brown eyes and brown hair. You were very obviously Michael's child. This knowledge I leave to you. Use it as you will. He never knew, Michael. Be careful with your gifts.
I have to go now. The birth left me hanging on by a thread. The doctors say that it was only modern medicine that kept me alive this long. I have died as I lived my life, a Catherine. I am dying and will never see you grown, but never forget that I loved you. Brody will look after you, Cady will look after you when she is older. Go to Max if you need help. We all love you. Even your father loves you even if he doesn't know it.
Forever,
Maria DeLuca
********
"Maria DeLuca
1983-2008.
Beloved wife and mother of Aradia and Michelle.
You will always live on in our hearts."
The End
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