Title: Crash Part 12
Author: Marie a.k.a. Lovesbitch
Email: Lovesbitch84@yahoo.com
Rating: PG-13/Rish (might change later)
Summary: AU, Mi/L, Liz POV
Disclaimer: I do not own Rosewell, I have no money so there's no point suing.
Distrubtion: If you want to put this on your site then just send me a email with the link
Feedback: Listening to the voices in your head and send feedback like a good reader
Authors Note: This is my first attempt at writing a Rosewell fanfic and I would adore feedback.
What happened to me?
Back in New York I was stone-cold, nothing could hurt me. I don't even remember the last time I cried, I mean, really cried. I was untouchable.
And now look at me.
I'm hurting over what Maria said to me. I was in pain because I had hurt her. I should have told her to fuck off and that I didn't need her. That's what I would I have done if I was the same person I was just a week ago.
But the thing is I'm not.
*********
"Hey," Michael said, as he walked out onto the balcony.
"What are you doing here?" I asked, legs dangling over the railing, staring into the night sky.
"Checking on you. One of the guys working mentioned Maria's visit," Michael said, sitting next to me. "You been up here all day?"
"Yeah, except for the occasional trip for one of these," I said, motioning towards the empty beer bottle next to me.
"Trying to drink your problems away?" Michael asked.
"You know, I'm really not in the mood to fight with you, okay?" I snapped.
"Whatever," Michael said, turning his gaze to the sky. We stayed like that for several minutes, not speaking, not moving, just sitting. It was oddly reassuring, just having him there.
"Your parents not home from New York yet?" Michael finally asked.
"Nope," I said, pain lingering in my words.
"I thought they were coming back Friday night," Michael said.
"So did I," I said. "I got a message on the answering machine Friday night from my Mom. She said they were having problems with the apartment. Something about damages."
"You don't believe her?" Michael asked, as if he had read my thoughts.
"Not for a second," I said. "She said that they would call on Saturday."
"Did they?" Michael asked.
"No," I answered. "I mean, it's not like I actually believed her."
"But you wanted her to," Michael said.
"Not her. I gave up believing anything she said a long time ago but my dad..," I said, and Michael returned his gaze to me with a questioning look. "I may appear to be without emotions at times but my Dad and I get along really well."
"So you're a daddy's girl," Michael said.
"Shut up," I said, trying to smile. "So what if I am?"
"Nothing, you just don't come across as one," Michael said. "You never talk about him. Or any of your family."
"I told you I was adopted," I said, not looking at him.
"Yeah," Michael acknowledged. "But why won't you tell me about your family."
"Because you don't care," I said.
"I do," Michael said, and I finally looked at him.
"You remember how I told you that when I was younger my parents bought me whatever I wanted, anything to make me happy?" I asked, after several minutes of silence.
"Yeah," Michael answered.
"I lied. My Dad was the only one that ever gave a crap about me. My mom's a real bitch. Never really wanted me," I said. "When they originally found me they needed a place for me to stay for a couple of weeks. You know, while they looked for my family and searched for anyone that could be my mother. My dad fell in love with me and when no record of me was found he adopted me."
"And what about your mother?" Michael asked.
"She makes all the decisions and he's along for the ride," I said, bitterly. "She's keeping the two of them in New York as long as possible. Anything to stay away from me. She's counting the days to until I leave for college."
"That explains a lot," Michael said.
"Like what?" I asked, sharply.
"Like the way you cut yourself off from emotions and won't let anyone get close to you," Michael answered.
"Um, hello, I had a boyfriend I thought I was going to marry back in New York," I pointed out bitterly.
"Yeah, but you never were really close to him, he was possession to you," Michael answered.
"That's bullshit," I snapped, crossing my arms to prevent any bodily harm to Michael.
"That's what scars you so much about being here, about losing Maria's friendship" Michael said.
"Explain Mr. Know-it-all," I demanded.
"This was the first time you ever really opened yourself up to anyone," Michael answered.
"And I got hurt, hurrah for emotional attachments," I snapped.
More silence filled the air and finally Michael rose to leave.
"You know, this was where I met Maria," I said, and Michael stopped. "First day in Roswell. I thought my life was over."
"Because of the fight with your mom?" Michael asked.
"Because of everything," I said. "I was sitting here and debating whether or not to jump. I thought the fall wouldn't be high enough to actually kill me but it would get the message across. I thought if I did something drastic like that my father would finally take action and move me back to New York."
"Liz," Michael said, concern evident in his voice.
"I was wrong, about the fall," I said, standing up on the railing. "If you twisted just right, landed on your head, snap. It would all be over."
"Liz, shut up," Michael said, grabbing my wrist and pulling me off.
"What's the matter, did I scare you?" I asked, Michael still holding onto my wrist.
"I don't want to fight," Michael said.
"Don't worry," I said, trying to break away from him but he pulled me up against him. "I scare myself sometimes."
"I swear to God that you get off on this," Michael snapped, backing away from me.
"Yeah, this really floats my boat," I said, coldly, lighting a cigarette.
"You know that's bad for you," Michael said, motioning towards my cigarette.
"Thank you Mr. Obvious," I said, blowing smoke into his face. "Like you give a crap about me. But than again if I do die you would lose your key."
"You are so full of yourself!" Michael shouted.
"What the matter? Did I hit a nerve or something? I mean, that is what you called me," I asked, trying to meet his gaze.
"I don't want to fight with you," Michael whispered.
"You already said that," I pointed out. "And it's to late for that."
"I'm sorry," Michael said, barely above a whisper.
"What?" I asked.
"I said I was sorry and now I'm leaving," Michael said.
"You don't have to go," I said and Michael let a small smile shine through. "As long as you explain exactly what you meant when you said I was the key."
"Deal," Michael said.
"Ok, I'm waiting," I urged, impatiently.
"You know about the flashes and memories," Michael began. "A few weeks ago Iz had a flash."
"And what does that have to do with me?" I asked.
"In it she was talking to this guy, she said she was was talking to the head of space travel or something like that. It must have been only days before we left to come here. She was asking him about how we were going to get home if the spaceship crashed."
"Which it did," I added.
"Obviously," Michael agreed. "Anyway, he explained the whole flashes of memory thing to her and he said that when the four of us were together we would remember where and when to meet the ship."
"The one that would take you home," I asked.
"Yeah," Michael answered. "I started referring to you as the key because we needed you to get home, you joining us would..."
"Unlock the answer," I finished. "Never knew I was that important."
*********
I'd only had a few days to go over the whole alien thing in my head.
I mean, honestly it wasn't fair. Max, Michael and Isabelle had their entire life to deal with this, what they really were and going home.
The thing was, as much as I understood what they were saying, I never really accepted it until this moment.
The idea that I was really an alien and someday we were going home to a world that I couldn't even remember. It hadn't seemed real before, like it was some kind of dream.
And the honest truth is, it scares me to death.
TBC