Authors note; This is my first Roswell fic so be kind to me! This story never went under the hands of a beta reader and English isn't my first language so you'll have to excuse my abuse on the English language.
O N E O F U S,
written by Whipper VI
I remember our second meeting much clearer than I do our first.
It wasn't that far from here, we were nine years old and Isabel had a blue dress with white hearts on it.
I didn't know their names but I knew that we had met before. I knew that there was a connection between the three of us.
It was Max who spoke first. It's first now, years later that I can appriciate the ironi. Max was, is and will always be the leader. I can defy him, I have defied him in the past and I will most certainly do it again, but it always feels like if I'm mutinying . Like if I should know better.
As I said, Max was the one who spoke first. He stood there in the playground, rather short with dark hair and calm eyes, and when he spoke he broke my heart.
'You're one of us.'
And I was. I was one of them. A part of a something. And for the first time in my human life I cried.
The knowledge made me stronger. And weaker. I cared for someone, I loved someone. I had never know love before I met Max and Isabel. But with love also comes hatred. When they tell you that love and hate is different sides of the same coin; believe them. It's true.
You can't hate unless you love. And since I loved; I could hate. And hate I did. Not Hank, or any of my other fosterparents either for that matter. They hurt me, they destroyed parts of me that can never be saved or repaired; but I don't hate them. It is as if I can't hate for myself, just for them.
And I hated. I hated the thought of someone trying to take them away for me; I had just found them! I hated the thought of someone hurting them; I swore to protect them... I hated it when anyone wouldd take their attention away from me, from us. I hated it when they fought; it broke my heart when they were angry with each other.
'You're one of us.'
This time it was Isabel who spoke, and she reached out for me and touched my cheek. And I realized that it was tears in her eyes and her tears made me want to cry as well.
'I'm Isabel Evans', she continued, her hand still on my cheek, 'and this is my brother; Max Evans.'
'Michael. I'm Michael.'
Not Mikey, or Mike, or kid, or creep. Just Michael. And I'm one of you now.
That summer they showed me all their favorite places, they took me to their home to meet their parents; Mr. and Mrs. Evans, Isabel told me all her favorite bedtime stories and Max teached me how to ride a bike.
That summer Hank beat the hell out of me for being a 'lazy good for nothing creep' and I slept on Max floor for the first time.
That summer I told them about the magic tabasco sacue.
That summer was the best summer in my entire life.