A/N: First of all I do not own the characters of Roswell, they were created by Jason Katims and his gang. I also do not own the lyrics which inspired the title. They are from a song called "Kelsey" by Metro Station. I hope to do as many chapters for this story as my muse allows me. Your input would be greatly appreciated.

P.S. This is staged three years after they leave Roswell.

Oh Maria, you…

The night crawled on, the world kept under the wraps of a dark velvet blanket that was vaguely punctured by pin pricks of light—the last hints of life from millions of dying stars. The heat of the day had ebbed and hid itself away, favoring instead the cool kiss of a dry wind from the west that ruffled the hair of a solitary figure on a hill.

Dark eyes drank in the wilderness that seemed to stretch forever, trees as tall as sky scrapers and flora that almost looked as though it had retained some semblance of its prehistoric origins. It was hard to see the stars through the canopy but their comfort was empty to him now, he was grounded here in more ways than one. Surviving in a world that wanted to analyze and annihilate him and his friends—no, not his friends, his family, he had no choice but to stand guard.

The infamous stone wall that served as a nigh impenetrable barrier was the only thing that had kept him from breaking and losing grip completely. And that was only if he was being dishonest with himself. If Michael Guerin was to be completely honest he would say that Maria, Isabel, Liz, Max, Valenti, and the lost friend Alex had all done their parts to push the pieces of him together. Most of them were there with him now in the Redwood National Park but they were back in the camp grounds making dinner.

SNAP!

The sound of a breaking twig came to the young man's attention and he turned so quickly he nearly knocked Maria down.

The blond woman stumbled backward with the back of her hand touching her mouth to stifle a mischievous giggle at his expense. A flare of irritation was briefly ignited and then extinguished as she placed a hand on his arm.

"Whoaaa there, Sparky! I was just comin' to tell you that dinner was ready," she paused and scanned his face when a witty repartee did not fly back at her, "Are you okay, Michael?"

The face of an angel: round, full lips, sandy blond hair, and the kind of eyes you could easily get lost in if you weren't careful. Michael was always careful but for some reason that was beyond him, all he could do was stare at her. Closing the distance between them he put a calloused hand to either side of his lover's face and allowed a small smile to escape onto his lips.

"I'm fine, just standing watch. What is dinner, anyway? Did Max try to cook again?" Even though they were technically aliens that were immensely gifted with the power of manipulating the structure of almost all things Max could not cook. Not even with a few adjustments from his powers could it even be called passable.

"No, no…Liz decided she would take the duty upon herself but there is something unfortunate that I have to tell y—" He cut her off, she almost expected that he would. If ever there were a hint of bad news Michael would jump all over it until someone managed to settle him down.

"What? What's going on? Has there been anyone sniffing around our campsite?" Over the years he had learned to never take anything too lightly, to never NOT consider all the options and outcomes of a certain decision.

Maria held up a hand, a vaguely impatient look gracing her pixie features, "Michael," her voice grave and somber, "we are out of Tobasco sauce."

And then the wrenching sound of screaming split the forest at its very seams.