[b]Title:[/b] Mystification
[b]Author:[/b] Cath AKA Kitcat26
[b]E-mail:[/b] Kitcat3686@aol.com
[b]Summary:[/b] Post-[I]Convention[/I]. And that's all I really want to say for now.
[b]Disclaimer:[/b] Merely borrowing everything except the plot so I can squander away my time with my imagination. So, in other words, I own nada.
[b]Category:[/b] Uhm.PG-13? M/L and CC
[b]Author's Note:[/b] An idea I've had for a long, long while now. I tried to post it as a challenge way back when, but no one was interested. Well since the damn idea just escalates as it sits in my brain instead of dying out, here you are. I know some of you are wondering, "Why go so far back into the show's history?" Well let me put it this way. Maybe I can fix the whole "Destiny" mess before it starts. You with me? Fabulous. Let's go. [grin]
Oh, and did you know? Clicking the "New Thread" button is a disease. A poor, new disorder of which most cannot escape. Researchers are looking into it, but a cure looks a long way off. In the mean time, enjoy the stories I manage to churn out slowly yet surely. Special thanks goes out to Meagzie, my all around beta, friend, and center of the universe. [grin]
[I]In a haze, a stormy haze, I'll be round, I'll be loving you always, always. Here I am, and I'll take my time Here I am, and I'll wait in line, always. Always[/I]
[b]Parachutes - Coldplay[/b]
[b]- Prologue -[/b]
The figure crumpled to the ground after exploding white-hot pain smacked him square in the chest. The stench of freshly used gunpowder reeked in the air, blocking out the cool, crisp smell of the outdoors.
One thought blazed more blatant then the rest. How hauntingly poetic this was. To finally after all these years, perish, and to do so near the exact spot as his beloved.
Sound no longer held any meaning to him. All he could hear was the sound of the gun going off. Of all the guns, not specifically this one. The gun that had stolen away his one true reason for living, the one that had taken his never to be seen child. The gun that had wrongfully taken the drifter. And above all, the gun that should have went off to kill [I]HIM,[/I] the monster responsible for all this.
After all these years, his vindication would never be quenched. To think, that he had been, finally, so close. So near in having vengeance for everything that he had done to him and those he had held dear.
[I]Him,[/I] The one responsible. He was still so close in proximity. Really, only an arm's reach away. Had been for the entire night. WHY did he feel the need to wait to bring [I]him[/I] back to the scene of the crime? Why didn't he take his chance back in Roswell, regardless of the witnesses? For really, when he was finished with his revenge, what type of life waited for him after?
The answer was, irrevocably, nothing. There was no life without her, at least not one with meaning.
Her. That's what he wanting to be thinking about as he sent his final breaths to mix with the chilling night air. Nothing more, nothing less.just the untainted memories and the hope that death would be so kind as to let him join her.
A burning thought seared him in that instant. How could he even fantasize the ideal of being reunited with the one he loved when he had failed her? Failed because of [I]him[/I]?
Voices wafted from across the way as he felt his life start to slip away.
[I]Get out of here. The both of you. You were never here.[/I]
Suddenly, adrenaline shot through his veins. Pure determination fused through his soul once more. He could do the same. He could play it off, like he was never here either. He could, only if he could find the strength to heal himself, to find the will to stagger away from this mess he was currently in and regroup.
He could, and would. Because in the end, it really wasn't fair that he had been betrayed by [I]him[/I] twice.
[b]- Part One -[/b]
Michael Guerin stared into the Crashdown Café from the outside, blinking against the fiery sun. The diner itself was slowing down, the rush of business and out-of-towners dying out simultaneously with the insane festivities of the UFO Convention. He hesitated before entering through the doors, wavering ever so slightly as his heart lurched.
She was in there.
These days, she was everywhere. In his thoughts, in his brain, in front of him, working in the very place he, Max and Isabel were having a meeting.
It was like her very presence was one of which he could never escape. A swirling abyss of never-ending constancy.
[I]Mud,[/I] he thought, as he mentally berated himself. Why the hell wasn't he controlling his thoughts today? It had become gradually routine after a while, distracting himself with various forms of muddled thoughts to coat her persistent residence in his mind. The name Maria form in his brain? Not a problem. Contemplate mud. Think about dirt. Ponder about some other inane, distracting substance and be done with it. It had been a habitual reaction. [I]Had[/I] been. But now, damn it, ever since she kissed him yesterday.
[I]Mud, damn it, mud![/I]
This was getting him nowhere. And he definitely had a place to be right now. He was supposed to be inside, ignoring Maria, and conversing with Max and Isabel about last night.
Last night.now there was a topic that could successfully lure his thoughts away from his tempting pixie. To think about how his best friend was almost murdered right in front of his eyes. About how Max's powers were almost exposed to the Sheriff last night. To think about the pure desperation and need for vindication that shone in Hubble's crazed eyes.
Yes, definitely a mood killer.
Michael raked his fingers roughly through his unruly hair, causing it to stand up taller. He had to go in there sometime. He might as well get it over with. Besides, going in there had nothing to do with her. It had to do with him, and finding the fourth alien. He wanted some decisions made and executed quickly.
He was sick and tired of Max's "lay low" mechanism. If they kept on sitting on their asses, their chance might pass them by. And Michael was in no way going to miss an opportunity to uncover more about his past, his roots. His ties that could possibly provide a chance for him to BELONG somewhere.
For he sure as hell didn't fit in here.
And in order for him, for all of them, to discover all the answers, all the whims and whys to their very existence, they had to find the fourth alien.
Nasedo was the key. He couldn't do all of the work. He had made the first step in contacting them through the sighting in Fraser Woods. Now it was their turn to establish some sort of contact back. The only thing standing in the way of that was Max and his damn responsible demeanor. His comment last night resonated in Michael's brain.
[I]I think the one we've been looking for has killed people. A lot of people.[/I]
Disbelief still coated his insides. There was no way. No way that that statement could be true, no way that Michael was going to convince Max to get their butts into gear after hearing it, and definitely no way Michael was even going to fathom giving up.
It was a lie. It had to be. Hubble was crazy. The events last night PROVED it. Plus, he was one of those Convention nuts. Who in their right mind would even believe that crock of shit? Isabel was right. It WAS psychologically damaging.
A little voice nagged in Michael's head, reminding him of how he had been pumping most of those so-called nuts for information just days prior. He immediately quashed down upon it and slammed open the door to the Café. The minute jingle of the bell alerted the entire room to his presence - or rather it alerted one particular person to his sudden arrival.
Michael scowled as Maria's blonde little head shot up at the ringing sound and when her eyes darkened considerably after brightening with recognition.
He forced himself not to look again in her direction and to beeline straight for Max and Isabel, both of which were seated at their usual booth. Plopping down across from Max next to Isabel, he grunted in his typical monosyllabic manner.
"Hey."
Isabel responded her salutation verbally, while Max met his gaze steadily and nodded. He seemed more composed than he did the night before, less shaken. Already, even in such a short amount of time, Max slide back into his ever-present role of Mr. Responsibility. Michael couldn't tell if he was relieved or irritated by this current improvement from last night.
Although, seeing Max flip out and direct his pent up frustrations upon the Sheriff had been extremely unnerving. Usually, it was HE, Michael, who was the one who let his words and emotions rashly spiral out of control. To see Max lose it.well, it wasn't an everyday occurrence that was for sure.
"So," He started. It was time to get this conversation off of the ground. A small stretch of silence followed his pronouncement, and after a round of impatient waiting, Michael noticed that Max's attention was not currently with them. Rather, it was jealously piercing Liz, who was obliviously taking some jock's order at a nearby booth. Rolling his eyes at this unsurprising occurrence, he went to share an exasperated look with Isabel, only to discover that her gaze was trailing towards the bar stools - where Alex was gesturing wildly with his hands, simultaneously making Maria's face shine with laughter.
Ignoring the way his heart skipped a beat at that particular sight, Michael sighed loudly, and rapped his hand smartly on the table. Both Evans's jumped slightly and abruptly met his gaze.
"Suddenly, I seem to be the only alien living up to my name," Michael quipped.
Isabel threw him a stupefied look. "What?" Her voice dripped with derision.
His nostrils flared impatiently. "Aliens. Alienating." He paused, and when Max and Isabel continued to glance at him skeptically, he blew up. "Hello! You two are mooning over the humans while we should be discussing what the hell we're supposed to do next!"
Isabel shot a discomforted look about the near empty café, and then hissed disapprovingly at him. "God, Michael. Be a little louder why don't you. I don't think Valenti heard in his office across town."
"The place is empty, Isabel. Now could you two snap out of your yearning crap and pay a little attention to the more pressing matter at hand here? What are we going to do about this?"
"About what?" Max asked quietly, ripping the wrapper off of his straw and then slamming the plastic tube deep into his cherry cola beverage.
Michael took a silent deep breath and willed himself not to blow up the nearest glass. Gritting his teeth, he answered tersely. "About the sighting! The message from Nasedo! About our friggin existence! Our past! Why we're even [I]here,[/I]"
He broke off breathing hard, believing that Maxwell would get the gist.
Max took an agonizingly slow slurp of his drink, and swallowed pensively. Before Michael could give a growl of annoyance, Max spoke calmly.
"We don't do anything. We don't know for sure if the sighting was an establishment of contact. And if it was, I'm not so sure Nasedo is one we really want to be looking for anyways."
"He's the forth alien! Why wouldn't we want to look for him?"
Max pushed away his cola and leaned forward seriously. "Why wouldn't we want to look for a potential murderer? Gee, I don't know Michael. Does the idea that he could be dangerous have any repercussion in your mind at all? You weren't there last night. You didn't hear what Hubble said."
"Max, he was crazy! You know it, I know it."
Max shook his head and broke in. "Remember the pictures Liz saw in Valenti's office?" Max pushed on as he saw Michael open his mouth furiously to interject. "Listen to me! You weren't there. Hubble wasn't insane. He was prostrate with grief. What Nasedo did to him and his wife.It was awful. Awful enough for Hubble to pull a gun on me thinking I was him."
A soft, yet sharp intake of breath caused all three heads to snap upwards. Alarm resounded in Michael's head until he raised his eyes to come face to face with.
Liz Parker. And she looked horrified, her pen and order pad still suspended haphazardly in the air.
Great. This was just what they needed right now. More distractions and butting in from the humans. The next thing they knew, Maria would be coming up to rant angrily about some inanity.
Not bothering to suppress his scowl, Michael glanced over at Max. His face was coated with guilt.
What the hell? Did he miss something?
"Max," Liz asked, her voice wavering with uncertainty. "What happened?"
"Uhm, Hubble had a misunderstanding and he uhm," Suddenly, Max was finding the salt shaker and Tabasco sauce in front of him quite enthralling. "He tried to kill me."
Liz's face blanched and Max hastily added, "But Valenti was there, so nothing happened. It's over."
Michael snorted, but wisely chose not to say anything, heeding the warning look Isabel was shooting in his general direction. [I]Over. Maxwell, my friend, this is far from over.[/I]
Maria's laughter peeled across diner and suddenly Michael couldn't tell if that was a good thing or not anymore.
Liz's face smoothed from one of shock to one of unmistakable anger. Michael didn't blame Max at all for cringing.
"Oh. So you weren't even going to bother telling any of us about it? Since it's obviously [I]over[/I]." Liz's voice was coated with venom.
"No, Liz, it's just that."
"Can I speak with you in the back a minute? [I]Privately[/I]." She didn't even wait for Max's reply, just strode purposefully towards the break room. Max sighed, and moved to follow her.
"Max!" Michael stopped him. "What are you doing, we still have to."
Max rubbed his eyes. "Later Michael. Okay? Just cool it for a while."
Michael huffed with boiling frustration. [I]Cool it,[/I] Max said. An act easier said then done. Sometimes Michael had to wonder whether or not the burning desire to uncover their past was rooted in him alone. Regardless of the answer to that query, Michael knew one thing for sure. His steadfast tenacity would ring true, and they would NOT be giving up on finding out who, or what, they were.
Michael watched as Max scurried quickly to Liz's side, and the two entered through the swinging door, jumping slightly as their arms brushed tenderly against one another's.
No, not giving up. No matter how tempting the lure of their life here on earth proved to be.
To Be Continued.
[b]Author:[/b] Cath AKA Kitcat26
[b]E-mail:[/b] Kitcat3686@aol.com
[b]Summary:[/b] Post-[I]Convention[/I]. And that's all I really want to say for now.
[b]Disclaimer:[/b] Merely borrowing everything except the plot so I can squander away my time with my imagination. So, in other words, I own nada.
[b]Category:[/b] Uhm.PG-13? M/L and CC
[b]Author's Note:[/b] An idea I've had for a long, long while now. I tried to post it as a challenge way back when, but no one was interested. Well since the damn idea just escalates as it sits in my brain instead of dying out, here you are. I know some of you are wondering, "Why go so far back into the show's history?" Well let me put it this way. Maybe I can fix the whole "Destiny" mess before it starts. You with me? Fabulous. Let's go. [grin]
Oh, and did you know? Clicking the "New Thread" button is a disease. A poor, new disorder of which most cannot escape. Researchers are looking into it, but a cure looks a long way off. In the mean time, enjoy the stories I manage to churn out slowly yet surely. Special thanks goes out to Meagzie, my all around beta, friend, and center of the universe. [grin]
[I]In a haze, a stormy haze, I'll be round, I'll be loving you always, always. Here I am, and I'll take my time Here I am, and I'll wait in line, always. Always[/I]
[b]Parachutes - Coldplay[/b]
[b]- Prologue -[/b]
The figure crumpled to the ground after exploding white-hot pain smacked him square in the chest. The stench of freshly used gunpowder reeked in the air, blocking out the cool, crisp smell of the outdoors.
One thought blazed more blatant then the rest. How hauntingly poetic this was. To finally after all these years, perish, and to do so near the exact spot as his beloved.
Sound no longer held any meaning to him. All he could hear was the sound of the gun going off. Of all the guns, not specifically this one. The gun that had stolen away his one true reason for living, the one that had taken his never to be seen child. The gun that had wrongfully taken the drifter. And above all, the gun that should have went off to kill [I]HIM,[/I] the monster responsible for all this.
After all these years, his vindication would never be quenched. To think, that he had been, finally, so close. So near in having vengeance for everything that he had done to him and those he had held dear.
[I]Him,[/I] The one responsible. He was still so close in proximity. Really, only an arm's reach away. Had been for the entire night. WHY did he feel the need to wait to bring [I]him[/I] back to the scene of the crime? Why didn't he take his chance back in Roswell, regardless of the witnesses? For really, when he was finished with his revenge, what type of life waited for him after?
The answer was, irrevocably, nothing. There was no life without her, at least not one with meaning.
Her. That's what he wanting to be thinking about as he sent his final breaths to mix with the chilling night air. Nothing more, nothing less.just the untainted memories and the hope that death would be so kind as to let him join her.
A burning thought seared him in that instant. How could he even fantasize the ideal of being reunited with the one he loved when he had failed her? Failed because of [I]him[/I]?
Voices wafted from across the way as he felt his life start to slip away.
[I]Get out of here. The both of you. You were never here.[/I]
Suddenly, adrenaline shot through his veins. Pure determination fused through his soul once more. He could do the same. He could play it off, like he was never here either. He could, only if he could find the strength to heal himself, to find the will to stagger away from this mess he was currently in and regroup.
He could, and would. Because in the end, it really wasn't fair that he had been betrayed by [I]him[/I] twice.
[b]- Part One -[/b]
Michael Guerin stared into the Crashdown Café from the outside, blinking against the fiery sun. The diner itself was slowing down, the rush of business and out-of-towners dying out simultaneously with the insane festivities of the UFO Convention. He hesitated before entering through the doors, wavering ever so slightly as his heart lurched.
She was in there.
These days, she was everywhere. In his thoughts, in his brain, in front of him, working in the very place he, Max and Isabel were having a meeting.
It was like her very presence was one of which he could never escape. A swirling abyss of never-ending constancy.
[I]Mud,[/I] he thought, as he mentally berated himself. Why the hell wasn't he controlling his thoughts today? It had become gradually routine after a while, distracting himself with various forms of muddled thoughts to coat her persistent residence in his mind. The name Maria form in his brain? Not a problem. Contemplate mud. Think about dirt. Ponder about some other inane, distracting substance and be done with it. It had been a habitual reaction. [I]Had[/I] been. But now, damn it, ever since she kissed him yesterday.
[I]Mud, damn it, mud![/I]
This was getting him nowhere. And he definitely had a place to be right now. He was supposed to be inside, ignoring Maria, and conversing with Max and Isabel about last night.
Last night.now there was a topic that could successfully lure his thoughts away from his tempting pixie. To think about how his best friend was almost murdered right in front of his eyes. About how Max's powers were almost exposed to the Sheriff last night. To think about the pure desperation and need for vindication that shone in Hubble's crazed eyes.
Yes, definitely a mood killer.
Michael raked his fingers roughly through his unruly hair, causing it to stand up taller. He had to go in there sometime. He might as well get it over with. Besides, going in there had nothing to do with her. It had to do with him, and finding the fourth alien. He wanted some decisions made and executed quickly.
He was sick and tired of Max's "lay low" mechanism. If they kept on sitting on their asses, their chance might pass them by. And Michael was in no way going to miss an opportunity to uncover more about his past, his roots. His ties that could possibly provide a chance for him to BELONG somewhere.
For he sure as hell didn't fit in here.
And in order for him, for all of them, to discover all the answers, all the whims and whys to their very existence, they had to find the fourth alien.
Nasedo was the key. He couldn't do all of the work. He had made the first step in contacting them through the sighting in Fraser Woods. Now it was their turn to establish some sort of contact back. The only thing standing in the way of that was Max and his damn responsible demeanor. His comment last night resonated in Michael's brain.
[I]I think the one we've been looking for has killed people. A lot of people.[/I]
Disbelief still coated his insides. There was no way. No way that that statement could be true, no way that Michael was going to convince Max to get their butts into gear after hearing it, and definitely no way Michael was even going to fathom giving up.
It was a lie. It had to be. Hubble was crazy. The events last night PROVED it. Plus, he was one of those Convention nuts. Who in their right mind would even believe that crock of shit? Isabel was right. It WAS psychologically damaging.
A little voice nagged in Michael's head, reminding him of how he had been pumping most of those so-called nuts for information just days prior. He immediately quashed down upon it and slammed open the door to the Café. The minute jingle of the bell alerted the entire room to his presence - or rather it alerted one particular person to his sudden arrival.
Michael scowled as Maria's blonde little head shot up at the ringing sound and when her eyes darkened considerably after brightening with recognition.
He forced himself not to look again in her direction and to beeline straight for Max and Isabel, both of which were seated at their usual booth. Plopping down across from Max next to Isabel, he grunted in his typical monosyllabic manner.
"Hey."
Isabel responded her salutation verbally, while Max met his gaze steadily and nodded. He seemed more composed than he did the night before, less shaken. Already, even in such a short amount of time, Max slide back into his ever-present role of Mr. Responsibility. Michael couldn't tell if he was relieved or irritated by this current improvement from last night.
Although, seeing Max flip out and direct his pent up frustrations upon the Sheriff had been extremely unnerving. Usually, it was HE, Michael, who was the one who let his words and emotions rashly spiral out of control. To see Max lose it.well, it wasn't an everyday occurrence that was for sure.
"So," He started. It was time to get this conversation off of the ground. A small stretch of silence followed his pronouncement, and after a round of impatient waiting, Michael noticed that Max's attention was not currently with them. Rather, it was jealously piercing Liz, who was obliviously taking some jock's order at a nearby booth. Rolling his eyes at this unsurprising occurrence, he went to share an exasperated look with Isabel, only to discover that her gaze was trailing towards the bar stools - where Alex was gesturing wildly with his hands, simultaneously making Maria's face shine with laughter.
Ignoring the way his heart skipped a beat at that particular sight, Michael sighed loudly, and rapped his hand smartly on the table. Both Evans's jumped slightly and abruptly met his gaze.
"Suddenly, I seem to be the only alien living up to my name," Michael quipped.
Isabel threw him a stupefied look. "What?" Her voice dripped with derision.
His nostrils flared impatiently. "Aliens. Alienating." He paused, and when Max and Isabel continued to glance at him skeptically, he blew up. "Hello! You two are mooning over the humans while we should be discussing what the hell we're supposed to do next!"
Isabel shot a discomforted look about the near empty café, and then hissed disapprovingly at him. "God, Michael. Be a little louder why don't you. I don't think Valenti heard in his office across town."
"The place is empty, Isabel. Now could you two snap out of your yearning crap and pay a little attention to the more pressing matter at hand here? What are we going to do about this?"
"About what?" Max asked quietly, ripping the wrapper off of his straw and then slamming the plastic tube deep into his cherry cola beverage.
Michael took a silent deep breath and willed himself not to blow up the nearest glass. Gritting his teeth, he answered tersely. "About the sighting! The message from Nasedo! About our friggin existence! Our past! Why we're even [I]here,[/I]"
He broke off breathing hard, believing that Maxwell would get the gist.
Max took an agonizingly slow slurp of his drink, and swallowed pensively. Before Michael could give a growl of annoyance, Max spoke calmly.
"We don't do anything. We don't know for sure if the sighting was an establishment of contact. And if it was, I'm not so sure Nasedo is one we really want to be looking for anyways."
"He's the forth alien! Why wouldn't we want to look for him?"
Max pushed away his cola and leaned forward seriously. "Why wouldn't we want to look for a potential murderer? Gee, I don't know Michael. Does the idea that he could be dangerous have any repercussion in your mind at all? You weren't there last night. You didn't hear what Hubble said."
"Max, he was crazy! You know it, I know it."
Max shook his head and broke in. "Remember the pictures Liz saw in Valenti's office?" Max pushed on as he saw Michael open his mouth furiously to interject. "Listen to me! You weren't there. Hubble wasn't insane. He was prostrate with grief. What Nasedo did to him and his wife.It was awful. Awful enough for Hubble to pull a gun on me thinking I was him."
A soft, yet sharp intake of breath caused all three heads to snap upwards. Alarm resounded in Michael's head until he raised his eyes to come face to face with.
Liz Parker. And she looked horrified, her pen and order pad still suspended haphazardly in the air.
Great. This was just what they needed right now. More distractions and butting in from the humans. The next thing they knew, Maria would be coming up to rant angrily about some inanity.
Not bothering to suppress his scowl, Michael glanced over at Max. His face was coated with guilt.
What the hell? Did he miss something?
"Max," Liz asked, her voice wavering with uncertainty. "What happened?"
"Uhm, Hubble had a misunderstanding and he uhm," Suddenly, Max was finding the salt shaker and Tabasco sauce in front of him quite enthralling. "He tried to kill me."
Liz's face blanched and Max hastily added, "But Valenti was there, so nothing happened. It's over."
Michael snorted, but wisely chose not to say anything, heeding the warning look Isabel was shooting in his general direction. [I]Over. Maxwell, my friend, this is far from over.[/I]
Maria's laughter peeled across diner and suddenly Michael couldn't tell if that was a good thing or not anymore.
Liz's face smoothed from one of shock to one of unmistakable anger. Michael didn't blame Max at all for cringing.
"Oh. So you weren't even going to bother telling any of us about it? Since it's obviously [I]over[/I]." Liz's voice was coated with venom.
"No, Liz, it's just that."
"Can I speak with you in the back a minute? [I]Privately[/I]." She didn't even wait for Max's reply, just strode purposefully towards the break room. Max sighed, and moved to follow her.
"Max!" Michael stopped him. "What are you doing, we still have to."
Max rubbed his eyes. "Later Michael. Okay? Just cool it for a while."
Michael huffed with boiling frustration. [I]Cool it,[/I] Max said. An act easier said then done. Sometimes Michael had to wonder whether or not the burning desire to uncover their past was rooted in him alone. Regardless of the answer to that query, Michael knew one thing for sure. His steadfast tenacity would ring true, and they would NOT be giving up on finding out who, or what, they were.
Michael watched as Max scurried quickly to Liz's side, and the two entered through the swinging door, jumping slightly as their arms brushed tenderly against one another's.
No, not giving up. No matter how tempting the lure of their life here on earth proved to be.
To Be Continued.