Title: Twisted Fate

Disclaimer: I do not own Roswell. Also this is a re-write of a fiction I wrote in 2003 under the pen name polarchica77 that I never finished. * Indicates italics

Category: Romance, angst

Rating: M

Summary: My version of what happens during "Max to the Max". Michael gets captured instead...and things start to change

Chapter One: No One To Catch You When You Fall

Liz POV

It felt like we were falling forever. Bracing myself for the impact of the water colliding with my body, I held on to Michael's hand tighter and found that his grip was just as strong as mine. With a loud popping sound in my head, the water engulfed my body. It was a strange sensation to feel myself plunging deeper while the water around me was trying to push up.

With all my strength, I tried to push up.

When I finally got my head above water, I began to panic.

Where was Michael?

"Michael!" I yelled hysterically. "Michael! Where are you?"

Holding my nose, I dove underwater to search for him there. Upon seeing no one, I resurfaced and I felt my heart skip a beat. The water was red.

"Oh god! Michael! Michael!"

I began to swim to locate the missing alien. When I caught sight of a dark head of hair about ten feet away from me, I frantically swam towards him. When I finally reached him, I turned him over so that he was face up.

I placed my head on his chest to listen for a heartbeat and felt relieved when I found one. Positioning myself so that I could swim onto the land, I struggled with his large body mass.

I pulled him onto the land and took in his pale complexion, wet hair and clothes, and slightly blue tinted lips. "Michael! Can you hear me?"

No answer.

Suddenly I remembered the red water. Where was his wound? My eyes grazed over his body to find any evidence of the blood and found it seeping through the middle of this shirt. Lifting his shirt up, I noticed the jagged series of cuts across his torso. They looked fresh and were bleeding profusely. Repulsed, my hand flew to my mouth when I also saw the other scars on his bare chest.

Two circular burn marks were at the top of his chest and under them were scars from some obviously deep cuts. A large colorful bruise was on his right side and other little bruises marred his pale skin.

With tears in my eyes, I wrapped his shirt around the middle of his torso to put pressure on the wounds. The remaining blood showed through the shirt.

His breathing was becoming more strong now.

The pale moon light offset the bruise on his cheek. How come I hadn't noticed that before?

With a trembling hand, I gently pulled his wet hair away from his face.

"Michael, how could they do this to you?"

I didn't expect an answer.

After all, evil has no logic.

Michael

The water hit my face and on instinct, I tried to pull back but the men behind me pushed my face in further. The coldness ran through my veins like poison and the rough ice scraped against my skin.

Then I was abruptly pulled out and the comparative warmth of the air around me felt like a kick in the stomach.

Then HE looked at me with a smug look on his face.

The face of evil.

The face of pain.

The clicking of his shoes echoed in the small room. He balanced his weight on his knees and kneeled down next to me. The mere smell of him made me want to vomit-medical supplies and blood.

He always smelled like medical supplies and blood.

His black eyes locked on to mine and he made a 'tsk' noise. "Michael, Michael, Michael. You know how this goes. All you have to do is tell me where the other orb is. Just tell me, Michael. You can't possibly be enjoying this."

Do I look like I'm enjoying it?

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him give a small nod to a man behind me. He whispered in my ear with a sneer. "Tell me when you start to *enjoy* it, Michael. Please don't hold out just to make me happy."

Then I was roughly shoved back into the tub of ice cold water, the man's hand burning into my scalp as he held me in. I flailed my arms and kicked with all my might but my face stayed in the water. Next thing I knew I was being pulled out.

"Are you enjoying it, Michael?"

Back in.

Back out.

"Are you?"

Back in.

Back out.

"ARE YOU?"

Back in.

Back out.

"ARE YOU?"

Back in.

Back out.

No! I shouted in my mind.

No!

No!

"No! Get off of me! I'm not enjoying it! I'M NOT ENJOYING IT!" I yelped. My yelps turned into mumbles. My mumbles turned into whispers. My whispers turned into whimpers. My whimpers turned into tears.

...

Suddenly, I felt soft hand gently wipe away my tears from my face. "Shh," someone whispered. "It's alright, Michael. You're safe now."

My eyes flung open to see Liz sitting next to me, her hand still on my face. She pulled her hand away as if she was burnt and looked down at her feet. I was shocked that Liz had made such a gentle caring gesture towards me but I was comforted a bit too.

"Liz, where are we?"

Liz crossed her arms across her chest. "In a turned over car thing. When we jumped off the bridge you passed out. You were bleeding so I…uh…" and she gestured towards my chest.

Looking down, I saw that I was shirtless with my t-shirt wrapped around my middle. "Thanks, I guess. So how did we get here?"

"I basically had to carry you here. Those guys behind us were gone last time I checked but we should wait until morning to get out of here."

I nodded. Still a bit shaken from my dream, I ran my hand through my hair. Jumping in the water must of reminded me….

We stood in silence for a moment. "They looked fresh."

When I gave her a questioning look, she clarified. "The cuts. They looked fresh."

I looked down at the thin material covering my cuts and blushed shamefully at the fact that the rest of the marks were out for her to see. The feeling of being vulnerable to her upset me. I pushed the feeling away and I pinned her with a glare. "I don't want to talk about it."

Liz seemed to shrink back a bit and frowned deeply. "Michael, it's not like we didn't know where you were. Who you were with. I know it wasn't easy."

"You don't know anything, Parker."

"If you want to talk about it…"

"I don't," I growled, hoping she would stop now.

"Michael, I'm just trying to help."

"I don't need your help. Mind your own damn business," I said harshly.

Liz placed her hands on her hips and scowled at me. "The least you can do is be civil here, Michael."

"Why? Because you made me jump off a bridge? What do you want me to say? Thanks you, Liz Parker, for saving me from the hellhole you put me in."

Liz's eyes danced angrily.

Good. Anger I could deal with.

"Figures. I pull my ass all the way out here to *save* you and I even volunteer to drive you. I'm getting shot at my men with bazookas, I jump off a bridge, have to find your sorry drowning ass, and drag you all the way here to a turned over car. I'm sorry if I expect you to at least take your head out of your ass to be at least a bit grateful!"

Damn. The girl had spunk. And she wasn't finished either.

"All I do is help you guys! I don't even know why I do it anymore. I don't even…" and her mouth clammed shut. For a moment, her eyes flashed with pain.

"You don't what?" I asked softly.

Her eyes met mine. "I don't even belong anymore."

"Are you kidding me? You're Max's heart and soul-the reason for his existence," I chided with a sarcastic undertone.

Liz gave a stale laugh. "Do you think that I'm stupid, Michael? Max told me about the whole destiny thing. He and Tess were meant to be together."

The blank desolate look in her eyes had taken me two days in that hellhole to perfect. Her world had come crashing down. Maybe we did have something in common.

"I'm sorry, Liz. I know how much you love him."

Liz sighed and ran a hand through her hair. "This is stupid. I mean my love life issues seems trivial next to your.. y'know."

"It's not as bad as it looks," I lied.

Liz grimaced. "It still looks pretty bad. Can you heal them?"

I shook my head. "I'm still too weak."

"Oh. I'm sorry. I just…..do they hurt?" she asked carefully.

"No. Not the actual wounds," I slipped.

Liz was taken aback and stared at her feet. "Just how they got there."

I nodded and began to play with my hands. "What's your worst fear, Liz?"

"What?" she asked startled.

"That's what it feels like. Every single weakness and vulnerability you have is exposed to the one person who will use them against you. It was hell, Liz," I revealed to her.

Liz crossed over to me and hesitantly placed her hand on my shoulder. I closed my eyes tightly and felt a weird sensation in my head. Liz jerked her hand back and jumped back to her original spot. She wrapped her arms around her body protectively and refused to meet my gaze.

"You saw, didn't you?" I asked, dread lacing my face.

"I didn't mean to, Michael. I swear," she apologized profusely. "I've never seen you that…."

Vulnerable. Empty. Everything that I hid from the outside world.

I continued to pay with my hands and looked anywhere but her. She saw everything. Would she even look at me? Was I that repulsing?

The question briefly crossed my mind of why her opinion of me mattered of me that much.

I heard the sound of her walking over to me again but kept my eyes trained on my hands. She sat down next to me and placed her hands on mine. My head shot up and my eyes widened in surprise.

She smiled tenderly at me. "Max."

"What about him?" I asked slightly confused.

"That's my greatest fear. Losing him," she said as a distant look.

"Mine is going back," I confessed.

Liz took her hands off of mine and regarded me with a solemn expression. "They'll have to get through me first."

I couldn't decide whether or not to laugh at the pure insanity of little Liz Parker protecting me from the big bad or be touched and comforted by the underlying promise in her words.

I simply nodded my head and leaned into her small frame. I don't know why I began to seek comfort in the small slip of a woman next to me but it somehow felt right.

Liz leaned into me too, her small hand resting on my bicep.

I'll never understand what happened in that van at that moment. All I know is that two broken teenagers found peace within each other. That's how she fell asleep. With her hand still on my arm and her head resting near mine, I watched as her eyes closed and her breathing became shallow.

I suddenly had an overwhelming feeling of protectiveness for the girl. I knew that the worse was far from over.

I shifted my position and her eyes lazily opened again. I gave her a small smile. "Thank you."

"Good night, Michael."

"Good night, Liz."