Not Time To Die
by
Princess McPhee
Disclaimer: Jason Katims= Not me. Jason Katims= owner of Roswell. Clear enough?
Author's Note: I know, I know. I haven't turned out a fic in forever. I'm sorry. It was written fast and is un-beta'd, but all my stories are, so you shouldn't go away just because of that!
Summary: Isabel and Michael POVs when Isabel is critically wounded and they think Max is dead.
Rating: PG-13 (Language)
Isabel
Awareness returns slowly. There's excruciating pain in my belly, broken skin that has never been like this before. Never has Max let things get this bad without stepping in.
Max...
My brother. My companion, my compatriot, my partner-in-crime. My best friend and one of the only people I would trust with my life. And he's gone. He's gone now because he's too trusting. Because when Sheriff Valenti was in danger, there was nothing he could do but choose which one of them survived.
I know. Michael told me when I was going in and out, before someone stuck a needle in my vein and everything went black.
There's a hole in my insides. Something isn't right. My powers are sluggish, probably by the effect of the drugs, but I know enough to tell something isn't right.
I don't want to die. My time isn't over yet. I'm not even twenty. I've been in love twice, but it doesn't feel like enough. God knows, I never want Jesse to go anywhere, but if that's my destiny, I want to meet it.
Odd, coming from a girl so opposed to destiny, I suppose.
But there's just so much left to do! So many things left to see, so many monumental moments to be a part of, so many historic things to touch, so many ways to get Jesse to moan my name that I know I haven't touched on yet... there's just so much life that I haven't experienced yet!
It isn't fair to ask me to give up my ties to this world. I won't.
Whoever was with me leaves, and I don't have the strength to call them back. Blackness reigns again.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Kyle's whispering at me. Something about it being worth a try. He's holding my hand tight and I can feel his focus. There are powers there, something hidden below the surface. He's not going to be happy. But he can't touch them yet, can't call them out before they're mature.
For Max, Michael and I, our powers were just there when we came out of the pods. Sure, they were weak and sickly and needed much tuning, but they were instantaneous. Maybe they'd matured when we were in the pods. Maybe the powers simply weakened when passed on.
Liz's powers are impressive, but nothing like what Max, Michael and I can do. It's more like the sheer fact that she has them at all is impressive. Her lack of ability to control is rather extraordinary, too. It suggests that maybe our ancestors had to do some work on our brains before they were ready to be so quickly tuned.
We had a lot of problems when we came out of the pods, but luckily, controlling our powers wasn't among them.
In the current moment, I can feel Kyle's psyche touch his powers, and the slightest burst of energy flow from his fingers. I clutch at it, trying to grasp enough to gather my strength, but he doesn't know that he's sending it, thinks it's futile, and stops. I would scream at him if I could.
He's dejected. "Well, it was worth a try," he tells me. "You know me, I'll try anything once."
He's right, on both counts, you know.
He will try anything once. And I do mean anything.
And I do know him.
I know what he's been trying to conceal for these long, stressful months. I don't know if he simply finds me physically attractive or if he's actually attracted to me, but I'm not going to try and find out. It's better this way, I don't have to deal with him, and he can keep his pride.
He leaves, and blackness again engulfs my world. I have only one coherent thought as his hand leaves mine.
I must be drawing power from the people talking to me and touching me, because I black out every time they stop.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A person's gentle whispers bring me back. It's Michael, telling the story of how we met. And I'm tired of this, damnit! I want back, I want control of my body again! I can feel it brushing my fingertips, but I can't quite get a hold of it.
Michael's powers are held in check too tightly. I could draw off them, pull energy from his inhuman powers, but he's holding them admirably. Of all the times for him to develop control!
Then, as his voice shakes with emotion, his hold on his powers shakes, too. Michael always has had trouble mixing emotion and powers. I use my own weakened strength to 'suck' on the flow of energy he's unconsciously exuding, and I feel a strange heat between our hands. Michael's power flows into me, and I suddenly feel ten times stronger.
My eyes open, and I take in the world again.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Michael
When Isabel fell, I didn't see, but I felt it. Just like I'd felt Max's death moments earlier. For me, it's a little feeling, just a tugging on the back of my head. I guess it's not as strong as Max and Isabel's connection, though, because I've seen them know when the other was scraped. And I know that Max and Liz are even closer. Probably has something to do with all of the freaking mind-sharing they do, but they like to think it's because they're soulmates.
Well, let me tell you that soulmates aren't all their cracked up to be. I thought me and Maria were meant to be, but right now, it's so incredibly complicated. I know she wants her own life, and I respect that, but I still love her, God damnit! It's not something I can turn on and off. But, I guess she can't either, if her insistence that we stay close but not together is any sign.
Losing Maria that night was like having my heart squeezed. Losing Max was not being able to breathe. I can't lose Isabel. If she dies, I'll suffocate.
Who knows, maybe I actually will. We never exactly got a manual with alien 'do's' and 'don'ts' in it.
Everything moved so fast after that. We got to Sheriff Valenti's, Jesse's friend came over. The surgery was traumatic. No one wants to see anyone's insides in that condition. Especially when said person is an honorary relative and best friend.
Not to mention, who actually ever wants to see their friend-slash-relative's insides? Something is really wrong if they do.
The doctor? if that was what he was, told us that Isabel should recover provided infection didn't set in. Everyone looked so grim, and I almost laughed because I knew my face mirrored it.
There had been gut reactions. The heart clenching, the suffocation complex, but I hadn't really thought about Max since Isabel had been shot. It hadn't sunk it. And the fact that I could lose Isabel, it hadn't gone through my head in real, clear thought yet. I couldn't have handled it.
I talked to Jesse, played cool while he insisted on seeing me perform the only alien trick I can about a million times. I just remember not being able to stop thinking that he'd be so much more impressed with Isabel or Max's powers. All I've ever been able to do is blow things up, and more recently, simple molecular change.
I sat by her side for a while then. I talked to her, about stupid little things, I didn't even remember until I was wracking my brain for pointless little moments she and I had shared together. Nobody, even doctor-guy was really sure if she could hear us or not, so I purposely kept Max out of it. I didn't want depression to keep her from coming back to us.
Coming back to me.
Who was I kidding? I couldn't care less at that moment in time for anyone else's feelings. All I knew was that I'd lose a best friend and a man I considered a brother that day, the girl who could quite possibly be the love of my life that year, and I wasn't going to admit to anyone, especially not myself, that I could lose my last tie to the world.
That I could lose my beloved Isabel.
I never thought of Isabel that way. You know, 'that' way. The sex way. Or, at least, the girlfriend way. Granted, I dreamed of her sometimes, but only when Tess was fucking with them were they steamy, sexy dreams. And I woke up mightily disturbed from those, let me tell you.
She's my sister. I grew up with her. I've touched her hair a thousand times, but it never felt like Maria's. I've looked into her eyes, seen her soul, a hundred times, but it's never touched me like Maria's. She's yelled at me for being stupid a million times, but it never gave me that warm feeling of being loved enough to be chastised that Maria's anger gives me.
I never could wrap my mind around the thought of Isabel that way.
But just the same, I love her with all my heart, and now she's all I have left.
And I think the biggest weight in the world just lifted off my shoulders, because her eyes just fluttered and opened.
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