Mending Pieces  

A Roswell Alternate Universe Story  

By Andrea Sinisterra    

Romance/Drama  

Standard Disclaimers Apply

* * *

You know that silence is loud when all you hear is your heart

And I wanted so badly just to be a part of something strong and true

But I was scared and left it all behind

"Here With Me"

- Michelle Branch

* * *

Part 8

Isabel glanced down at Aaron, uneasy. The kid was scaring her. Ever since they got in the car, Aaron's hopped on a silent cloud, drifting away with the passing scenes as she drove. She desperately wanted to say something, anything to break the silence, but she just didn't know what to say. Certainly, she couldn't mention or even ask him what had happened inside the house, back there with Tess and Max, she really didn't want to scare him or make him talk if he wasn't ready.

She decided to step onto neutral territory; "I heard Maria invited you and Paige to the fair."

Long moments passed as Aaron stared out the window, when he finally turned to look at her, Isabel let out a breath, "yeah... She's very nice. And pretty, too. No wonder Uncle Michael is nuts about her."

Isabel smiled, "yeah, she's a very good person. Wait till you get to know her."

After that, everything went back to silence.

 * * *

Max parked his car behind the blue Benz, swiftly looking at the large dark house.

"Thank you for the ride." Liz told Max, once he'd opened her door.

"Yeah," Max began, glancing around as Paige rushed into the house, "sorry for the little spectacle back there."

Liz smiled softly, "it's okay." She fell silent, nibbling on her lower lip nervously, "do you want to come in for a while?"

"I..." Max hesitated, "I don't think that's a good idea..." He trailed off, regretting his words.

"Please?" She begged, smiling, "I'm particularly famous for my liquor coffees."

Max stood there looking at her, as if still contemplating her proposition, although, in his mind, the decision had been made the moment she smiled. "Well," he began, taking her arm in his, "why don't we go inside, you do your thing, and I'll tell you what I think."

 * * *

Clarisse Evans pressed the linen napkin to the corner of her lips, putting her teacup down. Her beautiful blue eyes roamed her treasured garden, as if trying to imprint the perfection of each rosebud in her mind. She motioned for the woman behind her to push her through the pathway along the garden. She rested her head back as the woman behind her slowly pushed the wheelchair.

"It's a beautiful day, is it not, Mrs. Evans?"

"Indeed." The old lady replied, smiling. "Sally, how many times have I told you to call me Clarisse?"

Sally stopped for a moment, thinking, "about a hundred times. You know, after the tenth attempt I lost count."

Clarisse laughed softly, "You know, Sal... I've always wanted to die surrounded by these flowers..."

The nurse remained silent.

"Promise me you will not let my garden die."

"I promise." Robert Evans said, as he kneeled down in front of his wife, "I will not let you die." He vowed fiercely.

Sally quietly left them alone, surrounded by masses of deep colored red roses.

 * * *

As it turned out, her coffee went beyond amazing, the faintest hint of rum still lingered on his tongue. They had vacated the kitchen, mugs in hand, to lounge on the back terrace, the last traces of the sun fading and merging into the blazing horizon. Silence hung around their heads, but it was neither uncomfortable nor unsettling. Max watched her, intent on her face, her hair... her lips as she sipped the caffeine mixed in with liquor.

Max shifted on his chair.

Her eyes darted to his face, unsure of what to say. She had the weird feeling that he was expecting her to say something. She knew he was watching her, she could feel his gaze down to the marrow of her bones. The weird thing was, that she didn't feel uncomfortable under his intense eyes.

"It must have been hard for Aaron to see his mother after so long..." Liz started, her voice trailing off, uncertainly, "I mean, he's just a kid, it must have thrown him off base to finally be able to talk to her..."

Max set his mug down, exhaling a tired breath, "he didn't want to go home with me. I guess... I guess he felt he couldn't deal with Tess and then with me..."

"Max," Liz gasped, reaching for his hand, "don't say that! It doesn't matter that this woman is back; to Aaron you have always and will always be his father. He's just a little boy, you have to give him time." Liz hugged him, feeling his muscles relax under her embrace. "It's going to be okay. You just have to have faith."

"I'm just afraid that I'll loose him. I don't want to loose him, Liz. He's... he's everything." He whispered hoarsely, his arms holding her tight.

Liz was surprised at the intimacy of their hug, but she didn't pull back. One hand on his shoulder, kept her from falling completely into his arms, the other, had snaked unnoticeable into his hair, her fingers caressing the short silky strands. She stopped her body from stiffening at the new sensation the feel of his lips pressed against her neck created. But he wasn't kissing her, she thought, almost disappointed.

His head buried in her shoulder, his nose nuzzled against her neck. Somewhere along the way, he had stopped worrying about Aaron and Tess, suddenly sure that everything was going to work out just fine. But the soft pressure of her body against his, even though they had the armchair of their seats between them, was pure bliss, almost making him forget completely what he was so strung about. She was so small; her body melded completely into his, as if her sole existence was to be spent in his arms, meshed to him for eternity.

And he was completely unaware of his hands running up her back, tangling them in her long dark hair, the liquid strands flowed over his hands in thousands of silky waves.

His eyes went wide in their surprise as he felt her lips brush over his, not quite kissing. Her head pulled back, and all he could do was gaze into the dark depths of her eyes, reflecting an unquenched passion, a passion he was eager to fulfill. Her eyes were glazed, and he briefly wondered if she was thinking the same things he was.

Somehow, they were back on their feet, their bodies pressed together. Liz smiled when she felt his lips kiss her forehead, her breath growing more difficult as they descended down the side of her face and stopped with a kiss on the corner of her mouth. The broken whisper of his name escaped her lips in a final plea seconds before his lips sealed hers in what was meant to be.

Time was irrelevant; the world was reduced to the two of them. Everything grew dim as they continued to kiss. But there was no haste, no pressure; instead, they danced in their minds, savoring the peace and the underlying passion held within their bodies; a wall of gentleness holding them back from going too far.

The insistent beeping of his pager intruded into their little world. Max's lips seemed to hold on to hers, as if trying to stay there for eternity...

 * * *

There were lights everywhere. Flashing lights of red, blue, and white. The lights were haunting her, driving her crazy with their interval flashes. The voices where everywhere, also. Over her, two people dressed in white yelled things at each other, ordering, their voices incomprehensible. She could hear the loud siren in the distance, and even more people crowding over her.

She raised her hand, trying to sit up, but her body was numb, it didn't react, didn't compute. She couldn't even move her legs. It was then that she became aware of the sticky wetness on her face and her arms, the dull ache in her chest, the bruises in her body. Her head fell to the side, tears flowing down to the hard cement.

A little boy lay beside her, in a white stretcher, covered in blood. She wanted to scream at the people that lifted up the stretcher, taking him from her side.

But just then, that pain caught up with her, with eyes rolling to the back of her head, Isabel Evans drifted to the darkness that summoned her.

To be continued...

Chapter 9: Broken