Title: Enigma
Author: Tzippy
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Summary: After her death, Maria writes to Tess. Part of the Letters from the Edge collection. The rest can be found at envy.nu/roswelldead.
Dear Tess,
You're a bitch.
You're a slut, you're a skank, you're a tramp, you're a whore, you're a vixen, you're a harlot, you're a wench, you're a shrew, you're a hellcat, you're a hussy. You're a goddess.
You walk into Liz Parker's life, steal her man and break her heart in the process, and when her/your man dies, you take her under your wing and put her back together.
You're so fucking amazing I don't kow what to do with you. Do I hate you or do I love you? Do I hold you in contempt or do I worship you? Do I pity you or do I envy you? Do I underappreciate you or do I overestimate you?
We never even had one conversation.
What is it about you, then? Why were you the most significant person in my life? You weren't my best friend, you weren't my lover, you weren't my idol. You weren't my leader, you weren't my savior, and you weren't my brother. You were my brother's lover and my leader's lover, and possibly my best friend's lover and my idol's lover. What did you do with Isabel when the rest of us weren't around, I always wondered. And why did everyone have some kind of special relationship with you except me?
Maybe it's because we're both so fucking stubborn. I hated you for being Max's whore, you hated me for being Liz's bitch. And then you and Liz and you and Michael bonded when Max died in battle. But an elephant never forgets, and neither does a DeLuca. So I stayed away from you.
Eventually, you took Michael's role as leader. And he went back to being a warrior. The idiot blockhead. I could have done so much better than him. I could have had you. If only I'd swallowed my pride.
You fascinated me. You were glow-in-the-dark stars at the top of my ceiling, you were the music in The Sixth Sense that scares you half to death, you were Michael in a leather thong.
Whoa. Image there.
And what was I? I was the wacky one. The one who made weird comments in class and made the whole class laugh. The one who made girls like Isabel Evans roll their eyes. And you, or so I thought.
But you didn't. You didn't roll your eyes. You laughed. Did anyone ever tell you what a captivating laugh you have?
When I fell today, you were the first to run over to me. You tried to heal me, but it was too late. Why did you do it? You were commanding the army, and Isabel's job was to heal people. Why did you cry when I died? You didn't even cry when Max died--not in front of the rest of us, anyway. But for me, you did. Was I as important to you as you were to me?
I just don't get it.
-Maria-
Author: Tzippy
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Summary: After her death, Maria writes to Tess. Part of the Letters from the Edge collection. The rest can be found at envy.nu/roswelldead.
Dear Tess,
You're a bitch.
You're a slut, you're a skank, you're a tramp, you're a whore, you're a vixen, you're a harlot, you're a wench, you're a shrew, you're a hellcat, you're a hussy. You're a goddess.
You walk into Liz Parker's life, steal her man and break her heart in the process, and when her/your man dies, you take her under your wing and put her back together.
You're so fucking amazing I don't kow what to do with you. Do I hate you or do I love you? Do I hold you in contempt or do I worship you? Do I pity you or do I envy you? Do I underappreciate you or do I overestimate you?
We never even had one conversation.
What is it about you, then? Why were you the most significant person in my life? You weren't my best friend, you weren't my lover, you weren't my idol. You weren't my leader, you weren't my savior, and you weren't my brother. You were my brother's lover and my leader's lover, and possibly my best friend's lover and my idol's lover. What did you do with Isabel when the rest of us weren't around, I always wondered. And why did everyone have some kind of special relationship with you except me?
Maybe it's because we're both so fucking stubborn. I hated you for being Max's whore, you hated me for being Liz's bitch. And then you and Liz and you and Michael bonded when Max died in battle. But an elephant never forgets, and neither does a DeLuca. So I stayed away from you.
Eventually, you took Michael's role as leader. And he went back to being a warrior. The idiot blockhead. I could have done so much better than him. I could have had you. If only I'd swallowed my pride.
You fascinated me. You were glow-in-the-dark stars at the top of my ceiling, you were the music in The Sixth Sense that scares you half to death, you were Michael in a leather thong.
Whoa. Image there.
And what was I? I was the wacky one. The one who made weird comments in class and made the whole class laugh. The one who made girls like Isabel Evans roll their eyes. And you, or so I thought.
But you didn't. You didn't roll your eyes. You laughed. Did anyone ever tell you what a captivating laugh you have?
When I fell today, you were the first to run over to me. You tried to heal me, but it was too late. Why did you do it? You were commanding the army, and Isabel's job was to heal people. Why did you cry when I died? You didn't even cry when Max died--not in front of the rest of us, anyway. But for me, you did. Was I as important to you as you were to me?
I just don't get it.
-Maria-