Enemy on the Inside

by

Princess McPhee


Disclaimer: Not mine. Jason Katims. The WB. UPN. All not me, so I guess they're not mine.

Author's Note: This is cliche. I admit it. Hurt/comfort stories are really done much too often. But a good H/C story is the only thing that can make me cry, and I like to write them, as well. Please give it a chance.

Author's Note 2: I don't know if I like this ending. But it's what you're going to get. So, please don't flame me about the ending.

Setting: AU-post 'Departure'. Alex is alive, Tess is gone, there is no kid. Michael and Maria as they were, Max and Liz together again, Alex and Isabel, too. Isabel and Kyle's (platonic!) relationship occurred as it did on the show.

Summary: Max's life is threatened by an illness that no one thought would claim the health of the King. What can a helpless group of teenagers do against an enemy that strikes from the inside?

Warning: Slight f/f this chapter.

Rating: By chapter


EPILOGUE--PG-13

The days after Max's death went by in a haze of numb for the nine people most involved in this tragedy. The little town of Roswell did their best to be supportive, but ultimately, those involved had no one to turn to besides others in the group. Even the most patient of those who hadn't really known Max eventually grew impatient with the mourners, and then whomever it was, would withdraw, and retreat to the safety of 'the group'.

Unsurprisingly, Michael and Maria comforted each other frequently. Sometimes, however, Michael could get even impatient with her, convinced that she couldn't possibly have known Max as well as he had. Then, he could be found with Isabel, or more commonly, alone.

Alex and Maria comforted each other, too. Amy Deluca got used to seeing her daughter bawling, wrapped in the arms of one or another male teen. Alex made her significantly less anxious than Michael, though. Even now, seeing as he wasn't deserting her daughter in a time of need, and acting more than decently, she couldn't quite get over her inherent distrust of him.

Alex did his best to be there for Isabel, and the alien girl certainly appreciated it, but sometimes, it was just hard for her to be around people. Alex seemed to recognize this, and was amazingly certain to have forgotten something that just had to be done at home, if Isabel wasn't up for visitors. In this way, there was less strain on their relationship, and things worked far better than they would have if Alex had pushed his company on the grieving sibling.

Kyle, too, tried to be available to Isabel, who rarely went to him, but nonetheless, appreciated his support. Though Kyle didn't miss Max nearly as much as Isabel, she recognized that he had indeed, lost somebody close to him, though close as an enemy, or close as a friend had never really been decided.

In this way, they all coped. Everything moved slower, everything seemed to take on a air of sadness, and everyone had occasional lapses into remembrances of Max that just wouldn't leave them, but it went on. Time didn't stop, only slowed for those involved in the tragedy of losing the alien king for the second time. All of them knew they would live on.

Except for Liz.

Her mind numb to everything around her, Liz had her parents so worried that she was regularly going to see a psychiatrist, and on medication. But it wasn't Liz's reaction so much that caused the upset about her 'condition'. It was, rather oddly enough, her lack of a reaction that drew attention.

As much as they were sure it was just 'puppy love', Liz's parents knew how much Max had impacted their daughter's life. And when Max died, and Liz showed no real signs of mourning, they began to wonder. And because of that wonder, they watched her much more carefully than they normally would have.

And by watching her, they noticed that life had turned into a rather dull monotone around Liz. It wasn't only that she was lacking the ability to grieve, it was that she was lacking in the ability to express any emotion, or so it seemed. She didn't cry, didn't scream, didn't hit things. She didn't raise her voice, didn't express interest in anything, didn't speak except for what was necessary. Nothing seemed to reach her, anymore.

This went on for a few long months, during which Liz and Isabel, who had grown so close during the time immediately before Max's death, didn't make contact with each other almost at all. Isabel would sometimes come to the Crashdown, looking for lunch, or perhaps Maria, to tell her if Michael needed comfort, but wouldn't admit it, but never did she come for Liz. And never, did she try to draw the dark-haired girl out of her self-imposed shell.

Liz, for her part, resented the attention people were paying to her, instead of to the fact that Max was gone. While she didn't display emotion externally, she felt it, all right. It was just that to get angry at somebody, lash out, would have taken more energy than she felt that she had. She was always too tired, too sleepy to care about anything, from the moment she awoke to the dark of night when she rested her head again.

In the beginning, Alex and Maria came by often. But when school started, they stopped visiting as much, and gradually, Liz saw them only in classes, or passing through the halls. They tried to spend time with her, but she was good for very little, in terms of company, so, unconsciously, they drifted away from her.

Finally, Liz's doctor suggested to her parents that maybe there was someone very close to Liz who could trigger her to release some emotion. It didn't matter what, he explained, because once Liz was feeling again, it wasn't likely to go away. All they needed from her was a burst of anger, a few tears, something to break the dullness of Liz's current emotional state.

Not very hopefully, assuming that Alex and Maria had been their best bets, the Parkers' agreed, and sent for Michael, Kyle and Isabel. Michael and Kyle didn't even try very hard, but from the first moment, everyone could see that there was no hope, so it didn't really matter.

The first time that Isabel came, it didn't seem very different from the others' visits. But something, a spark of herself in Liz's eyes got Mr. Parker to call her back, again and again, and though Liz rarely showed any real interest, she participated in whatever Isabel asked. For her part, Isabel was frequently grateful to have something to do besides the monotonous work of school.

One day, Nancy Parker arrived home to find the door unlocked, though closed. She paused for a moment, but wasn't really worried, since she knew that Isabel was supposed to come over that afternoon. Dropping her purse on the stand by the door, she wandered inside, wondering if she'd see her daughter and the taller girl playing their usual board game at the kitchen table.

When she checked for them, however, there was no sign of the food or drinks they usually consumed while playing, nor of the girls themselves. Becoming slightly concerned, Nancy turned slowly in a circle, keeping her ears peeled for some sound within the house.

Surprisingly, she heard a faint sob from upstairs. Tiptoeing towards the sound, she quickly recognized Isabel's distinctive voice whispering quiet reassurances. When she reached her daughter's doorframe, she hesitated, then cracked the door just enough to peek inside.

Liz, crying her heart out, her small body heaving with sobs, was cradled in Isabel's arms.

Forty-five minutes earlier

Isabel knocked gently on the door to the apartment. She hadn't seen either of the elder Parkers' cars, and wasn't sure if she'd get an answer. Sometimes Liz just didn't seem to want to open the door, and some days, she was as close to eager as Isabel had seen her since Max's death.

After a few long moments, the bolt slid back, and Liz silently opened the door. She wasn't dressed to go out, so Isabel assumed they wouldn't be doing that. Her hair was tousled, so she obviously wasn't expecting anyone, except that now, Isabel wasn't sure she would care, even if she were.

Walking into the room, Isabel shut the door behind her. She quietly followed Liz back to her room, and wondered what they would spend the afternoon doing this particular day.

When she reached the dark-haired girl's doorway, Isabel stopped short. This was the first time she'd seen Liz's room since her brother had died, and it had undergone a radical change.

The small room was barren. There was nothing in it, except the usual clothing and alarm clock, backpack and a few schoolbooks. The desk was compulsively organized, and dustless-clean. The floor was freshly cleaned, the walls were free of any stains, patiently scrubbed out by Liz herself, Isabel was sure. The sheets were neat, and the comforter looked recently fluffed, as did the pillows.

And yet, in the middle of this incredible shrine to the organized person, was the one untidy area of the room. Well, maybe not really untidy, but certainly out of place. Next to Liz's bed was a spot on the wall where, so thick so that you couldn't actually make out the color of the wall underneath them, what must have been every single one of Liz's photos with Max in them, were posted.

Fifty or sixty pictures, Isabel was sure. Probably more. And none of them overlapping, just placed so perfectly that they made a little quilt of memories on Liz Parker's wall. There were school yearbook shots of Max, pictures of them from the school yearbook, where they'd ultimately been voted down as cutest couple, but had made the photo page anyway, and pictures of Max with Isabel and Michael, talking with one another, sharing a rare laugh at their lockers.

Isabel only stared for a few long moments. And then, tears in her eyes, suddenly weak-kneed, she sunk down beside Liz on the bed.

Both girls just sat there, looking at the shrine to Max's memory that his broken-hearted girlfriend had compiled, for several more long minutes. Then Isabel finally spoke, her eyes wet but her voice steady and sure. "It doesn't feel like anything else, does it, Liz? There's nothing in the world like losing Max."

Slowly, Liz nodded her head, and then shook it. "Nothing," She murmured under her breath, though she still moved with the zombie-like movements that scared her parents so badly.

"He's not coming back, Liz." Isabel only offered what Liz already knew, and didn't really expect a response. She wasn't disappointed.

"He loved you, you know." Again, no verbal response. Liz nodded her head a little, but nothing more came of Isabel's statement.

Again they sat, in the silence of the smaller girl's room. Desperate to do something, Isabel pondered what had not been tried, to bring Liz out of her emotionless shell.

Something wild and crazy hit upon her. Something that which, while she would never have even thought about it six months earlier, wasn't entirely unappealing now. Something that was sure to evoke a reaction from Liz, not matter what it was.

Reaching over, Isabel gently tucked Liz's dark hair behind her ears, the way she'd seen Max do sometimes. Feeling the greasy strands of the other girl's neglected hair, she nonetheless knew that they had been shiny and silky-smooth and thicker than a blanket once upon a time.

And could be again, Isabel knew.

Leaning over, the taller girl planted a soft kiss affectionately on Liz's forehead. "I love you too, Lizzie," She whispered.

Still no reaction.

Isabel pulled back, and stared Liz in the eyes. There was a faint spark of interest, and Isabel knew she could kindle that spark, keep it alive, and make it grow. Make Liz want something again, make Liz see that life was still going on, even though she wasn't participating. Make Liz realize that she could participate again.

Closing her eyes and leaning in close, Isabel kissed the younger girl.

Gentle at first, and then growing with intensity, Isabel worked with Liz's inattentive lips until she began to respond, began to answer back.

Then, pulling away, Isabel saw that she was right. That she could awaken Liz, because she just had.

Wanting to jump for joy at having the other girl back with her, Isabel nonetheless contained herself, and brushed Liz's wayward hair back again. "I know it's awful, Liz, and you know that I know what I'm talking about, but it won't go away until you let it out. I promise."

When Liz's eyes began to shine, Isabel knew she was on the right track. "I miss him," the younger girl spoke softly, tentatively. "I'm not always sure how to live without him."

Pulling Liz into her arms, feeling only an incredible protectiveness towards to smaller figure now, Isabel rocked her slowly, like a small child with an injury. "You don't live without him, Liz. It isn't forever. You'll spend some time apart from him. Then you'll be with him again, I promise. We both will."

Looking up at Isabel, Liz's tearstained face beseeched her. Without words, Isabel knew what the human girl was thinking, and not through any special otherworldly power, either. Just plain old human intuition.

"I'll always be here for you, Liz."

**********

Days later, Isabel ran into Liz at the local park, which had been Max's favorite place to think. Because of this, she often found others of the group here, too, but it was still her favorite place to be alone and remember her brother.

Liz was crouched on the ground, her face upturned to the cloudy sky, but she wasn't speaking. She seemed to just be enjoying the life around her, and indeed, Isabel knew that she was. Though she missed Max terribly, Isabel now realized how much life was around her, had definitely learned something from the disappearance of her near-twin.

Walking slowly up, but making no secret of her presence, Isabel waited until Liz turned around to face her. Slowly, the smaller girl stood, then faced the alien uncomfortably, apparently unsure what to say.

"Hello," Isabel greeted her.

"Hello."

"Mind if I walk with you?"

Head shake.

Isabel started down the dirt path, glad that it was actually more gravel than dirt, or else she'd be up to her knees in muck. It just simply could not seem to stop raining for the past week or so, and everything outdoors was simply one great, huge mud puddle.

For long moments, they walked in silence beside one another, Isabel waiting for Liz to say something, and Liz waiting until she had the courage to. Finally, shifting her weight uncomfortably, Liz managed to ask that one, all-important question.

"Did you mean it?"

Isabel thought about that for a long moment. Yes, she had been trying to get Liz out of her emotional slump, but had that been all it was? Meaningless trickery? No, she decided, she couldn't have done something like that if she'd wanted to. And the attraction, her body's refusal to stop kissing Liz when she'd told it to, that was her imagination, either.

"Yes."

The walk went on a bit longer. Then Liz spoke again. "How?"

Without further definition, Isabel understood what she was talking about. How had she meant her statement? Did she love Liz like a sister, like a friend, like a girlfriend? Had the kiss been merely for shock, but the statement for real?

Isabel thought about it for a long moment, and shook her head, more to herself than to Liz. Her intention at the time, had been to shock Liz out of her trance. She had, indeed, meant it when she'd told Liz she loved her, but now that Liz was asking how, she couldn't really be sure how to respond. Attraction was one thing, but did she truly, romantically, love Liz?

"I don't know."


Write me, or leave feedback if you want to see a sequel. I haven't decided if I'm going to write one, or not.


[Prologue] [1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [Epilogue]


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