The Future's Overrated
Author: gij, aka Puzzlechild
Category: Uh, M/L. The dark variety. This is the sequel to Ending Our World, maybe a kind of carry-over, so if you haven't read it or don't want to walk the walk of the damned, bail now.
Summary: the morning after. I think you all know which night it's after. Some Dupes, some skanky alien ho, some Max-the-freaking-idiot being a fool. Not much humans. The dupes aren't exactly like our dupes, just because they pissed me off. So, think of them as AU dupes. They have similar names, that's deliberate. I'm sure you'll all work it out.
Disclaimer: So obviously not mine that I don't believe I actually have to write this. See, I can write, I can make a decent plot device, and I don't believe in the use of a skanky alien ho, unless she dies within two episodes. Sorry. The title is from Arkana's song, The Future's Overrated, which I really think should become the dreamer anthem. Listen to the song and tell me what you think.
Feedback:
Phone rings:
Ring, ring.
Ring, ring.
Answering machine picks up:
Hi, this is Zaraneha - I mean, gij. If you would like to join the interplanetary effort to invade and take over the Earth - I mean, leave feedback, please state your name, race, eye colour, names of all present and potential children, credit card number, social security number, the names of the people you personally know who take drugs or are communists, e- mail address and your message, after the story. Thank you!
Beep.
* * *
Max was gone. That was the first thing that registered.
The second was the pain that rocked through her abdomen and darted like a lightening bolt to split her head as well. Liz literally thought she was being ripped apart.
The third was that somehow, someway, she had to stop anyone knowing this had ever happened.
Future Max had never been exactly explicit in how the world had ended. She had seen, somehow, that a jealous Tess had had something to do with the whole thing. Not just leaving Roswell, but actively fighting against them. And she was jealous, not of what had existed between Future Max and Liz, but because Max was no longer hers.
And what if Tess found out about this? Max was still pushing her away, coming to Liz even for this reason proved that. She couldn't know. No one could know. The world would still end, and once again it would be Liz's fault.
Always her own fault. She couldn't blame it on anyone else. She had driven Max to a breaking point, where he couldn't be responsible for his own actions. And so this had happened. Always her own fault.
Always her own fault that people died. That people were in danger. That the group was pulled apart. Her own fault, her own shame. No one could know, please don't let anyone else know. Please. Liz curled around the pain inside her and closed her eyes.
* * *
Isabel walked into her brother's room, looking absent-mindedly for one of her shoes. She didn't expect to find her brother out of bed, or possible even awake.
Instead, she found him sitting against his bed, his legs curled to his chest, a look of horror in his eyes.
"Max? Max!" Isabel cried out involuntarily. "Max, what's wrong? What happened?"
"Is?" his voice was faint, his eyes unfocussed.
"Max, what happened? What's wrong?" she asked again. God, what could do this to her brother? Yesterday, yes he had been brooding, but it was like he had made a decision, was getting on with things. Now... Gods, what was his decision?
"I... happened. My fault." Max muttered, still not looking at her. "I did it all. My fault. But I love her. I loved her."
"Max, I know you love her. But it's over." Isabel was getting scared. Maybe the shock of what he had seen was only just getting to him. "You said Liz said it was a mistake. It wasn't your fault. Couldn't be."
"Not that." He muttered again. "That was my fault too. Just not here, not now."
"What do you mean, not here and now? Max you're not making sense." What was he on about? "Help me here Max. Tell me what's going on."
"Ask Liz." Those words were clear, at least. "She needs you. I can feel it, now. I know what she's feeling. Go to her."
"Max, why me? How can you feel her? What do you mean, she needs me?" Isabel was utterly lost.
"Liz needs you. I can't do it, it was me to begin with. Michael can't do it, neither can that stupid ho. Help her." Suddenly his eyes focussed, he looked up at her. "Please, Isabel. Don't ask more questions. Just go to Liz, in her room. She needs help, and I can't give it to her. Please."
He didn't order her, as he probably had the right to do so. He pleaded for her help. Not for him, but for Liz. Her people had made a good choice; a leader so self effacing he asked help for someone who had betrayed him before himself. Someone he still loved.
Put like that, Isabel didn't know why she was still here.
* * *
The girl was still lying curled up on her bed. Well, after what had happened the night before, Rathe wasn't surprised. Anyway, it made things that much simpler.
He signalled to Lonia, who was just up the ladder. The girl seemed completely oblivious to them. He glanced back at Lonia, who was signalling to him. He moved back over to her quietly.
"What?" he breathed.
She leaned right into him to speak as quietly as possible. "The other girl's here. What's her name, Isabel."
Rathe sighed in irritation. The girl had to come now, and if Isabel turned up, things would get complicated. "Fine. We'll take them both. The little one first."
Lonia didn't reply, just moved away from him and towards the window. She crouched down beside it and waited for him.
He slipped inside, landing lightly on the floor. The girl on the bed had heard him, and was looking up with a kind of terror in her eyes.
He jumped forward and grabbed her wrists with one hand. With the other, he touched one of her temples, and she immediately passed out.
Rathe stood up, and looked over her. The girl was still naked, curled up into herself on her bed. With a sigh, he reached for one of her sheets and tugged it off the bed. He draped her form quickly and efficiently, then hoisted her over his shoulder.
"Loni," he hissed at the window. "Here, take her. I'll get Isabel, once she comes up."
Hands appeared, followed by Lonia. She took Liz's limp form and carried her towards the ladder.
Rathe looked around quickly and moved back towards the door. When the Lady Isabel paid a visit, he would be waiting.
* * *
Isabel stepped inside the Crashdown, looking around for Liz. She wasn't serving, neither was Maria. Maybe up the back, then. Max had said Liz was in her room, but she might as well check.
Isabel passed through the double doors. The back was empty, the lockers all neatly shut, the door into the kitchen shut. Maybe Liz was still upstairs. With what Max had said, that made more sense. She started to climb the stairs, wondering absently where Jeff and Nancy Parker were.
At the beginning of the hall, she looked around again. There were absolutely no signs of life from anywhere in the house. What the hell was going on? She moved down the hall to Liz's room, the last door on the left.
She knocked softly, then cracked the door open. Liz wasn't inside, so she opened it all the way.
"Isabel. Hi, how's it going?" a male voice, suddenly, from behind her. Liz's bathroom. She spun on the spot to see a guy about Michael's size and height, dark hair, dark eyes, mocking smile.
"Who are you? And what are you doing here?" she demanded. Why was this guy wandering around in Liz's home?
"Me? My name's Rathe. And I'm waiting around for you. See, Isabel, you're about to go on a trip with your good friend Liz. Alrighty?" he lunged forward and grabbed her wrist. An instant later, his hand was over her mouth. "Now come along and be a good girl, Isabel."
Helpless, Isabel let herself be guided out of Liz's room and into a van waiting in the alley beside her balcony.
* * *
The Queen was waiting when Rathe and Loni got back to the cave. Leaving Liz and Isabel in the van, they came forward to report to her.
"Queen," Rathe said, bowing his head with just the faintest trace of a sneer. Lonia copied his motions, her face perfectly blank.
"Rathe." The Queen answered. "Report. Do you have the girl?"
"Yes, Lady." He replied, keeping his voice clear of the derision he felt. "We found her where you said she would be, after playing games with the King last night."
"Excellent. Were there any complications?"
"Just one, your honour." Rathe answered. "The girl Isabel turned up just as we were leaving. We took her as well."
"Isabel?" The Queen asked, more statement than question.
"Yes, Lady. We didn't have a lot of choice."
"Inconvenient. Well, eventually we would have needed to take her too. Put them together somewhere."
"Yes, Lady." Rathe bowed his head again, Lonia followed his lead. They both left the room.
The girl who had insisted upon being called Queen sat back on her chair. She stared through the small patch of daylight she could see through a hole in the roof, fingers absently toying with a blonde curl.
Author: gij, aka Puzzlechild
Category: Uh, M/L. The dark variety. This is the sequel to Ending Our World, maybe a kind of carry-over, so if you haven't read it or don't want to walk the walk of the damned, bail now.
Summary: the morning after. I think you all know which night it's after. Some Dupes, some skanky alien ho, some Max-the-freaking-idiot being a fool. Not much humans. The dupes aren't exactly like our dupes, just because they pissed me off. So, think of them as AU dupes. They have similar names, that's deliberate. I'm sure you'll all work it out.
Disclaimer: So obviously not mine that I don't believe I actually have to write this. See, I can write, I can make a decent plot device, and I don't believe in the use of a skanky alien ho, unless she dies within two episodes. Sorry. The title is from Arkana's song, The Future's Overrated, which I really think should become the dreamer anthem. Listen to the song and tell me what you think.
Feedback:
Phone rings:
Ring, ring.
Ring, ring.
Answering machine picks up:
Hi, this is Zaraneha - I mean, gij. If you would like to join the interplanetary effort to invade and take over the Earth - I mean, leave feedback, please state your name, race, eye colour, names of all present and potential children, credit card number, social security number, the names of the people you personally know who take drugs or are communists, e- mail address and your message, after the story. Thank you!
Beep.
* * *
Max was gone. That was the first thing that registered.
The second was the pain that rocked through her abdomen and darted like a lightening bolt to split her head as well. Liz literally thought she was being ripped apart.
The third was that somehow, someway, she had to stop anyone knowing this had ever happened.
Future Max had never been exactly explicit in how the world had ended. She had seen, somehow, that a jealous Tess had had something to do with the whole thing. Not just leaving Roswell, but actively fighting against them. And she was jealous, not of what had existed between Future Max and Liz, but because Max was no longer hers.
And what if Tess found out about this? Max was still pushing her away, coming to Liz even for this reason proved that. She couldn't know. No one could know. The world would still end, and once again it would be Liz's fault.
Always her own fault. She couldn't blame it on anyone else. She had driven Max to a breaking point, where he couldn't be responsible for his own actions. And so this had happened. Always her own fault.
Always her own fault that people died. That people were in danger. That the group was pulled apart. Her own fault, her own shame. No one could know, please don't let anyone else know. Please. Liz curled around the pain inside her and closed her eyes.
* * *
Isabel walked into her brother's room, looking absent-mindedly for one of her shoes. She didn't expect to find her brother out of bed, or possible even awake.
Instead, she found him sitting against his bed, his legs curled to his chest, a look of horror in his eyes.
"Max? Max!" Isabel cried out involuntarily. "Max, what's wrong? What happened?"
"Is?" his voice was faint, his eyes unfocussed.
"Max, what happened? What's wrong?" she asked again. God, what could do this to her brother? Yesterday, yes he had been brooding, but it was like he had made a decision, was getting on with things. Now... Gods, what was his decision?
"I... happened. My fault." Max muttered, still not looking at her. "I did it all. My fault. But I love her. I loved her."
"Max, I know you love her. But it's over." Isabel was getting scared. Maybe the shock of what he had seen was only just getting to him. "You said Liz said it was a mistake. It wasn't your fault. Couldn't be."
"Not that." He muttered again. "That was my fault too. Just not here, not now."
"What do you mean, not here and now? Max you're not making sense." What was he on about? "Help me here Max. Tell me what's going on."
"Ask Liz." Those words were clear, at least. "She needs you. I can feel it, now. I know what she's feeling. Go to her."
"Max, why me? How can you feel her? What do you mean, she needs me?" Isabel was utterly lost.
"Liz needs you. I can't do it, it was me to begin with. Michael can't do it, neither can that stupid ho. Help her." Suddenly his eyes focussed, he looked up at her. "Please, Isabel. Don't ask more questions. Just go to Liz, in her room. She needs help, and I can't give it to her. Please."
He didn't order her, as he probably had the right to do so. He pleaded for her help. Not for him, but for Liz. Her people had made a good choice; a leader so self effacing he asked help for someone who had betrayed him before himself. Someone he still loved.
Put like that, Isabel didn't know why she was still here.
* * *
The girl was still lying curled up on her bed. Well, after what had happened the night before, Rathe wasn't surprised. Anyway, it made things that much simpler.
He signalled to Lonia, who was just up the ladder. The girl seemed completely oblivious to them. He glanced back at Lonia, who was signalling to him. He moved back over to her quietly.
"What?" he breathed.
She leaned right into him to speak as quietly as possible. "The other girl's here. What's her name, Isabel."
Rathe sighed in irritation. The girl had to come now, and if Isabel turned up, things would get complicated. "Fine. We'll take them both. The little one first."
Lonia didn't reply, just moved away from him and towards the window. She crouched down beside it and waited for him.
He slipped inside, landing lightly on the floor. The girl on the bed had heard him, and was looking up with a kind of terror in her eyes.
He jumped forward and grabbed her wrists with one hand. With the other, he touched one of her temples, and she immediately passed out.
Rathe stood up, and looked over her. The girl was still naked, curled up into herself on her bed. With a sigh, he reached for one of her sheets and tugged it off the bed. He draped her form quickly and efficiently, then hoisted her over his shoulder.
"Loni," he hissed at the window. "Here, take her. I'll get Isabel, once she comes up."
Hands appeared, followed by Lonia. She took Liz's limp form and carried her towards the ladder.
Rathe looked around quickly and moved back towards the door. When the Lady Isabel paid a visit, he would be waiting.
* * *
Isabel stepped inside the Crashdown, looking around for Liz. She wasn't serving, neither was Maria. Maybe up the back, then. Max had said Liz was in her room, but she might as well check.
Isabel passed through the double doors. The back was empty, the lockers all neatly shut, the door into the kitchen shut. Maybe Liz was still upstairs. With what Max had said, that made more sense. She started to climb the stairs, wondering absently where Jeff and Nancy Parker were.
At the beginning of the hall, she looked around again. There were absolutely no signs of life from anywhere in the house. What the hell was going on? She moved down the hall to Liz's room, the last door on the left.
She knocked softly, then cracked the door open. Liz wasn't inside, so she opened it all the way.
"Isabel. Hi, how's it going?" a male voice, suddenly, from behind her. Liz's bathroom. She spun on the spot to see a guy about Michael's size and height, dark hair, dark eyes, mocking smile.
"Who are you? And what are you doing here?" she demanded. Why was this guy wandering around in Liz's home?
"Me? My name's Rathe. And I'm waiting around for you. See, Isabel, you're about to go on a trip with your good friend Liz. Alrighty?" he lunged forward and grabbed her wrist. An instant later, his hand was over her mouth. "Now come along and be a good girl, Isabel."
Helpless, Isabel let herself be guided out of Liz's room and into a van waiting in the alley beside her balcony.
* * *
The Queen was waiting when Rathe and Loni got back to the cave. Leaving Liz and Isabel in the van, they came forward to report to her.
"Queen," Rathe said, bowing his head with just the faintest trace of a sneer. Lonia copied his motions, her face perfectly blank.
"Rathe." The Queen answered. "Report. Do you have the girl?"
"Yes, Lady." He replied, keeping his voice clear of the derision he felt. "We found her where you said she would be, after playing games with the King last night."
"Excellent. Were there any complications?"
"Just one, your honour." Rathe answered. "The girl Isabel turned up just as we were leaving. We took her as well."
"Isabel?" The Queen asked, more statement than question.
"Yes, Lady. We didn't have a lot of choice."
"Inconvenient. Well, eventually we would have needed to take her too. Put them together somewhere."
"Yes, Lady." Rathe bowed his head again, Lonia followed his lead. They both left the room.
The girl who had insisted upon being called Queen sat back on her chair. She stared through the small patch of daylight she could see through a hole in the roof, fingers absently toying with a blonde curl.