Disclaimer: Everything belongs to Jason Katims and Melinda Metz. I am only humbly borrowing their characters.
Author's Note: Inspiration for this story comes from a couple of sources. First, from my renewed interest in Sean ever since he made a cameo in my Roswell/Charmed crossover fic, Aliens and Demons. Second, from watching my Roswell season three DVDs and being reminded of how annoyed I was when Sean disappeared without a trace from the Deluca house. For the purposes of this story, I've assumed that Sean wasn't required by law to stay in Roswell, because that's another fic altogether.
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At some point when Sean Deluca was a child, it must have struck him that if people started to expect things of him, he ran a good chance of letting them down. Only that would explain how the quiet kid who everyone had pegged as the family's first real success sprouted into a surly, fearless teenager.
In some of Sean's more reflective moments, the fact that nobody had any hopes for him made him kind of sad. To think that he had rejected becoming the Deluca family golden child in order to become a perennial screw up made him wonder idly if he was really as stupid as his parents thought. Still, this didn't mean that Sean accepted his parents' criticisms. There was no doubt that Sean had made some bad choices, but privately, he felt that his reputation was a little unfair. He liked to think that he was generally an okay guy. He wasn't a coward, as evidenced by the bullet wound to the chest he had taken earlier in the year trying to save his aunt, his cousin, and a couple of his cousin's friends when the UFO center owner went a little crazy and kidnapped them all. He was easygoing. He was generally pretty willing to help people out. He had his faults, but Sean was pretty sure he wasn't all bad.
But as soon as it became clear that Sean would become a typical guy rather than a great future doctor or lawyer, it had all been over for him. Things escalated. Arguments became more and vicious and more frequent. Sean stayed away from home as much as possible. After a while, Sean had begun to feel his world spiraling out of control, but he had embraced it. And it had cost him. Arrests, juvie, probation. He took it better than a lot of guys would, though. He had long before become used to being an outsider.
Sean could still remember when he had first felt it, at about ten years old. He had gone over to his Aunt Amy's house, just to get away for a while. His fall from grace at home had just started, and he preferred the cheery eccentricities of his aunt's house to his own home. Aunt Amy had always been warm and always acted delighted to see him, although she had seemed tired at times, the result (as Sean would later learn) of her conflicts with cousin Maria's dad.
On this particular day, he had walked into the house and been greeted by his aunt, who had almost immediately handed him a piece of pie. He had gone to sit on the porch and while away the time when he saw Maria and her best friend Liz lying on the ground, talking softly. Every couple of minutes, he would hear the girls break into giggles. He had wondered what they were chattering about as they lay in the grass, purposely ignoring Sean's presence. A feeling, a faint mixture of annoyance and sadness, trooped through his stomach. It was the first time in his life that Sean was wholly aware of being an outsider, and it bugged him more than he would have liked to admit.
He still recalled how he had begun pulling up grass and throwing it in their direction, eliciting surprised squeals from the girls. Liz had sat up in the grass, blinking her eyes in the uneasy manner of someone not sure how to react to an unexpected insult. Maria, however, had immediately risen from her spot on the ground and tromped over to Sean, oversized boots making clomping noises as she struggled to keep them on her feet while she walked.
"What was that for?" she had asked in a voice so filled with indignation that Sean almost laughed.
"Being annoying," he had replied easily. "What's with the boots, M?"
"They're my dad's, dogboy, and in you have something to say about it, then I'll hit you over the head with one of 'em."
"Maria!" Aunt Amy's voice had cried from the door. Sean had smirked. Busted, little cuz.
What had happened next was blurred in Sean's head. All he remembered was that Aunt Amy had given Maria a warning and then, some time later, let the girls come in and have pie. On his way home, Sean remembered thinking that Aunt Amy's house would be the perfect place to live. All indiscretions forgotten at the end of the day, put to rest over a slice of pie.
Now, in the present, Sean had been living with Aunt Amy for the past year. She was still one of Sean's favorite people, although he now fully understood something he had only suspected as a kid – that she was not someone to cross. Maria still wanted to smack him over the head with her boot, so to speak. And Liz . . . well, Liz had finally become more than that wide-eyed little girl in the grass. To be fair about it, she had actually used him and stomped on his heart multiple times. But somehow, he couldn't bring himself to feel much more than a passing disappointment. Maybe it was because his whole return to Roswell had been so weird. He was sort of beyond disappointment now.
Sighing, Sean lifted the last of his boxes. It was a trial to fit even his small amount of stuff into his tiny car.
"Hey, I'm heading out," Sean called, craning his neck inside the house, then turning and heading back toward the car.
"Don't even think of escaping here without saying goodbye," Aunt Amy's voice called. He turned and saw his aunt hurrying out of the house carrying a box under one arm, followed closely by Maria. A small smile traced across his face
"Now how am I going to fit that in?" Sean asked, pointing to the box under Aunt Amy's arm.
"Oh, you'll make room," she insisted, waving an arm dismissively as she handed him the box. He took a peek inside. Pie. Of course. He raised an eyebrow and shoved the box in the passenger seat of the car on top of a box of clothes.
"Have a good time in LA, and don't do anything I would do," Aunt Amy said, smiling. Maria snorted. "Aunt Amy wrapped him into a hug, and Sean awkwardly followed suit. He wasn't sure what to say, so he stuck with something simple.
"Thanks Aunt Amy. For everything." They broke apart, and Aunt Amy pinched his cheek affectionately before backing away completely. Sean tolerated the indignity, but only because he was leaving.
Maria stepped forward, arms crossed. "So . . ." she said.
"So . . ." he countered.
"You know, I'm not really gonna miss you," Maria said.
"Ditto," he replied, smirking.
She gave a resigned sigh, then pulled her arms around him into a hug. He returned it, his smirk turning momentarily into a genuine smile, then switching back again when they separated.
"Goodbye Sean. Come back and visit sometime," she chirped. Then, almost as an afterthought, "Just not, you know, anytime soon." He rolled his eyes, then shot her one final smile before turning back to the car. He got into the front seat, making himself comfortable.
"Los Angeles, here I come," he muttered, revving the engine. He caught Aunt Amy's eye one last time before pulling out, and was gratified to see real affection in her gaze. Then, he hit the gas, and he was on the road.
As he drove, Sean looked at the houses and other buildings he passed. The mechanic, the UFO Center, the Crashdown. All were indifferent to his departure, sure to go on just as well, perhaps even better, without him. Sean was still on the outside. Maybe he always would be. But with somewhere to go other than back, with a home finally behind him and a future in front of him, Sean Deluca felt just fine.
