*One thing, I don't know why

Irony

Chapter 8

Author: Margarita

Email: margarita782@hotmail.com

Category: Liz angst, slight M/L romance.

Rating: R

Disclaimer: Unfortunately, Roswell and all of the characters from the show do not belong to me. "In the End" is by Linkin Park, and all lyrics belong to them.

Author's Note: The first part of this is taken directly from the episode "Harvest." All lyrics are in italics. Parts of this piece take place in the future; note the dates at the beginning of the chapters.

Spoilers: "The End of the World," "Harvest," "Max in the City."

Summary: Liz deals with the aftershocks of her promise to future Max.

Warning: Character death.

*One thing, I don't know why
It doesn't even matter how hard you try.
Keep that in mind…*

June 2006, one week before the anniversary of Max's death

I had that dream again last night. Actually, I had it twice. I woke up short of breath around one o'clock, and fell asleep an hour later only to have the dream a second time. I think Max is haunting me. Maria thinks I'm crazy. I have a confession – sometimes I think the exact same thing.

I looked through my scrapbook this morning, when I woke up for the second time. I wanted to remember, something that I haven't wanted for five years. I looked through my old journals as well, recalling the time when I could say, "I'm Liz Parker" without wondering exactly what that sentence meant.

There was a picture of Maria and myself tucked within the pages and I took it out, remembering the summer heat that had beaten down on our skin that day. We were "helping out" with an alien crisis, and we looked so happy. Maria's eyes were bright and my head was thrown back in laughter. How was I to know that less than two weeks later my entire life would come crashing down around me? I wanted to go back into that moment, to feel the innocence that I was never fully conscious of until it disappeared. I wanted to remember what it was like to have never experienced a grief so complete that it haunted my every movement, threatening to engulf me within it.

Alex came over this afternoon. Maria has forbidden me to work for three days, so it was a nice break in the monotony of being home alone. He was all smiles, telling me jokes and stories about his job. I hadn't laughed that hard in a long time, and it felt good. It was also wonderful to see him so happy. Maria and I never really believed that Alex and Isabel would get together when we were younger, but they have been a couple for three years and are both so happy. They're perfect for each other – Isabel keeps Alex in line, and he makes sure that she doesn't overwork herself. Alex also had something else to tell me – he was planning on proposing to Isabel tonight. He showed me the ring and told me somewhat nervously that he wasn't sure how she would react. I told him that I was sure that she'd say yes, and I was right – I just got a phone call, and they're engaged.

Isabel wants me to be a bridesmaid, and I said yes, of course, but couldn't help but think about how Max wouldn't be at the wedding. He had always wanted to walk his sister down the aisle along with their father, and now he wouldn't be able to. I am sure that the wedding will be beautiful, but that part won't be the same.

I also thought about my own wedding, the one that future Max had shown me. It would never happen now. I would never know what it felt like to have him carry me over the threshold, or to kiss Max, knowing that he was my husband. I would never feel the weight of a wedding band on my finger or have my wedding dance. He was gone, and all of that had left with him. I cried silently, wishing that things could be different, wanting so badly to touch his face or feel his hand entwined with mine. I hated this. I hated grieving, I hated sorrow, and I hated the fact that I knew with certainty that he would never come back to me. It wasn't fair. I cursed the day future Max had come to see me. It seemed as if after that day nothing had ever been the same. I had done his bidding and had paid a price larger than I could ever have imagined.