Author: Katydidit/PolarEmeralds/Me! (tee hee!)
Email: NobodysFool2507yahoo.com
Rating: PG, for a bit of language and implied violence.
Genre:Drama/Angst (not so much angst...shrug Maybe)
Category: AU. Pre-shooting. Just a tad Polar, but absolutely nothing that would cause an uprising of Dreamer/Candy Fans. (heh...though maybe Dreamers are forming an alliance against me? Nah...that'd be too much to hope for. :P)
Disclaimer: They're mine! All mine! demented laughter Ooor not. They're Jason Katims and Co.'s. Evil demons. They should be vanquished. blissful grin Ahhh, if only.... cough Move along, folks. No evil plotting to see here. g
Summary: A not-so-short AU fic. Thirteen-year-old Michael is out one night, trying to escape Hank's fury for a while, when he stumbles across someone he hadn't expected to see and realizes that things aren't always what they seem.
Spoilers: Guys, the show's over. If you haven't seen an ep, you're not gonna. Lol. I don't think there's any, though.
A/N: By the time I post this, I'll be out of school. Good thing: I'll be out of school. Bad thing: One of the reasons I get up in the morning is so I can go to school to see this guy that I reallyreallyreally like. But no school=no guy. sigh I'll pour all my angst into this story, I guess. Bwahahahahahahaha! Lmao. Or...not. Also, I looked it up. The form of 'articulate' I should have used is 'articulateness', but 'articularity' just sounds so much better. And it fits better in the story. So deal with it. Also, can anyone help? I made an image I'd like to show in my signature thing, but it won't show up (hence the damn red x). Which set of code do you use-the HTML or...the other one we can use on here? There's this one scene where it seems like all the kids are on E or Speed or some combination of the two, but I just spent half an hour at this psycho website I've just found, and...well, it's psycho.
Credits: Okay. The song Liz sings is not Alex's, and it does not belong to Jason Katims, etc. It was performed (and written, I assume) by Something Corporate. Read on, lovely readers.
Things Aren't Always What They Seem Chapter Eight (OMG! does the eighth-chapter dance)
The two of them stood there for a while after the car had vanished around a corner, Liz carefully cradling her side. Michael turned to her.
"Why'd you stay?"
"What?"
"You could have gotten into that car with your mother and driven away from your father and been safe. Why did you stay?"
She looked at him in disbelief. "You've got to be kidding me. Didn't you see that guy? He was scary." She winced. "And none too gentle..."
"But she's your mother."
Liz's eyes lost their warmth. "She stopped being my mother the night she drove off." Her voice sounded hollow, with just enough of a tremor to betray her tears. Liz Parker wasn't supposed to sound like that. Michael put his arm around her. She stood stiffly under his touch for a second, but then he felt her half-collapse and wrap her arms around his waist, crying quietly into his chest. He didn't know how much solace she could find in him, but he gave her what he could, holding her tightly to his body, though careful not to hurt her. After a while, she stirred, and he reluctantly loosened his grip. He felt like he could have stood like that forever. She wiped her eyes on the bottom of her shirt, avoiding his eyes.
"I did it again," she said in self-derision. "That must make you pretty damn uncomfortable." She smiled apologetically. "Sorry."
He cleared his throat. "Ah, no... No problem. It-I... It's..." Speak, you fool! He shouted at himself. Before she thinks she's right. "I'm...not uncomfortable."
She smiled at him through her lashes-though because of what he'd said or at his stunning display of articularity, he didn't know. He reached up to tenderly rub at a teartrail she'd missed, and she dropped her eyes.
"So you're sure you're okay, then?"
She rolled her eyes and nodded. "Geez. You break down into hysterics two times and suddenly you're a china doll."
"I dunno. You've got the complexion down."
She made a face at him and tagged his arm, darting away. He rolled his eyes and gave chase, not even using his powers once.
Later in the afternoon, the two of them were still chasing each other around the park, though their game of tag had morphed into hide and seek. Just when Michael was sure he'd found Liz, Max ran up to him, panting, still wearing his suit.
"Michael, where's Liz?" he huffed, doubling over.
"That's what I'm trying to find out. Why?"
"Her mom's at my house."
Liz stumbled out of the bush, and Michael whooped triumphantly. "I knew you were in there! Wait. Her mom's at your house? Why?"
Max shrugged. "She wants to talk to Liz."
Liz was pale, but shrugged, and they all ran to the Evanses' house, where four people were standing on the porch. They slowed down, and poor Max looked about ready to drop. The adults headed down, and Liz stepped away from that Rob character, who was clenching the hand she'd bitten.
"How hard did you bite him?" Michael whispered. She shrugged, looking sick.
"I think I may have tasted blood."
"Your mother would like to talk to you in private," the guy said coldly. Liz looked at him like 'who in holy hell do you think you are' and turned to her mother.
"What you have to say to me, you can say in front of everyone here." She lowered her voice so that only her mother, Michael, and the guy could hear her. "Anyway, how do I know you won't try to shove me in the car?"
Nancy tsk-tsked. "Lizzie, you need to come with me," she pleaded, getting to her knees. "A little girl needs her mommy."
"I'm not a little girl."
"You're right. I'm sorry. But a girl needs her mother-another woman. Who are you going to go to when you get your period? Your father?" She laughed slightly, as though this were funny.
"Mrs. Evans."
"Honey, Diane has enough on her hands without another little-I'm sorry- without another daughter in the house." She laughed.
"No, Mom. I went to Mrs. Evans."
Nancy's face fell. "When?"
"Last night. You just missed it." A sardonic smile flickered across Liz's darkened features.
"Oh. But you still need me-Girls need their mothers."
"I don't."
"Elizabeth, listen to me-" She reached out and took Liz's hand in her own, standing up.
"No, Mom. You listen to me!" Liz shouted, yanking her arm violently away. "The only things you've ever given me are band-aids and empty promises! What makes you think that I'm going to leave the people I love, just to go with you until you decide that you can't take this guy anymore and you run off again? What the hell gives you the right to ask me to do that?"
Nancy's face turned red with anger. "I am your mother, young lady."
"You're not my mother!" Liz screamed, rage distorting her sweet voice. "You're just some woman who happened to live with me for thirteen years and then ran off with some guy who isn't my father!"
Nancy's face went pale, and she reached out and slapped Liz. Liz just stood there, eyes glittering angrily. Nancy realized what she'd done and reached out to touch Liz's cheek, which was turning pink with her handprint. Liz stepped back, glaring silently at her.
"Lizzie, baby, I'm sorry. I don't know what came over me..." Nancy again tried to touch her daughter, but Liz knocked her hand away.
"Don't ever touch me again. Get in the car with your boyfriend, leave Roswell, and never come back. I will not come with you. I am not your daughter. Do not even try to speak to me," Liz said softly but menacingly. Even Michael was intimidated, but Nancy, eyes turned unreadable, nodded and turned. Rob tried to stare Liz down, but dropped his gaze first and got into the car. No one spoke, even after the car had once more disappeared. Michael noticed that Liz was trembling-probably from the adrenaline coursing through her body. He put his hands on her shoulders and tried his best to rub the tension out. She relaxed slightly and then stepped out of his grasp.
"Liz, honey..." Diane began. "What was that about?"
Liz shrugged and scuffed her shoe in the dirt.
"Where did your mother want to take you? And who was that man?"
"I don't know. I...don't know." She sighed helplessly. The remaining adults said nothing, but seemed to be having a conversation with their eyes. They then went inside, and Liz watched them nervously but resignedly, sinking into a sitting position in the grass. Michael sat on one side of her; Max on the other, and they sat there for a while, until Liz yawned squeakily, then laughed.
"Yelling at a former parental unit takes a lot out of you," she said with a smile. Michael laughed and rubbed her back. Max was still in his shocked silence, and Liz poked him in the leg.
"What's wrong, Evans?" She asked. He shook his head.
"Nothing. Just thinking."
"Well, don't strain yourself." She smiled kindly, so he'd know she was kidding, and he rolled his eyes and looked away. Michael snaked his arm up around Liz's neck in a sort of hug, then left it there. Mr. Parker's car drove up, parking where the other one had been just minutes ago, and Geoff stepped out. Liz immediately shrugged Michael's arm off her shoulder and stood up.
"Elizabeth, are you ready?" he asked, regarding the boys coldly.
"I just need to get my bag," Liz said quietly.
"Let's go get it. I need to talk to the Evanses."
"Yes sir."
They went into the house, Liz not even looking at the two of them. A few minutes later, they reappeared in the door, Geoff leading Liz to the car.
"Bye," Max called. Liz looked up, smiling worriedly, as she got into the passenger seat.
The next day, Michael didn't see Liz until lunch, where she was sitting with Alex. Even from across the courtyard, he could tell her father had done something to her last night. He headed over, Max in tow.
"What happened?" he asked. Alex had his arm around her protectively. "And don't lie to me."
Liz sighed, but then smiled wryly. "I don't want to tell you."
"Why?"
"Because I don't."
"You-"
"Michael, I'm fine. It was just the usual."
He glared at her, but let it go, and they ate their lunch.
When school was over, Liz quickly headed out of the room. Michael followed.
"Why don't you want to tell me?" he asked. She glared at her locker as she opened it and put her books inside.
"It doesn't matter."
"Yeah it does. Didn't we agree-no lies?"
"First off, this isn't a lie, Michael. I really don't want to tell you. Second, when did you become a control freak?"
"A what?"
"A control freak. I didn't stutter, did I? All these 'rules' for me?"
"For?—Liz, they're for both of us. We both agreed, no lies and no pity. That's not being controlling."
"Fine."
"So tell me."
Liz rolled her eyes and went to leave, but he grabbed her wrist and spun her back. She tried to yank away, glaring at him.
"Don't touch me like that," she said levelly. He let her go.
"Sorry. Just tell me."
Liz waited for the last few kids in the hallway to pass them, then turned towards him. "Last night, when Dad saw me sitting between you and Max, with your arm around me, he got the wrong idea."
"He thought-"
"Yeah. We got home and he made it quite clear that if I were ever to—whatever...well, I just wouldn't."
"What'd he do?"
"I'd rather forget about it." She shuddered, and went to leave again. Again, he grabbed her arm. She spun around and swung a fist at him, but he ducked it.
"Sorry. Liz, your dad didn't-he didn't..."
"Didn't what?" Her eyes were challenging.
"He didn't..." He cleared his throat. "...You know... Um... Touch you...in that way?"
Liz snorted. "Please, Michael." She shook her head in disbelief. "You're such a drama queen."
"Am not."
"Are so."
"Then what'd he do?"
"Just made it quite obvious that he doesn't like the idea that I'm growing up."
"Are you okay?"
"Yeah. It wasn't bad this time. I'm fine."
"You're sure?"
She looked at him blankly. "Would you prefer it if I fainted?"
"Sorry."
"Yeah, yeah. I gotta get home."
"Okay. See you."
That night, Michael went to bed far earlier that any sane person would. There was just nothing else to do, and, quickly growing irritated with the feeling of listlessness that was taking over, Michael sought the only escape-and was quickly snoring on his bed, his arms wrapped around his pillow.
But it wasn't to last. Around midnight, a loud banging sound woke him up. Hank. Michael tried to pretend he was asleep, but it just wasn't going to happen. Hank stumbled into Michael's bedroom and flipped the overhead light on.
"Get up, boy," he slurred, yanking the covers away. Michael obeyed, standing in front of the man.
"What?"
"You know 'what'."
"No I don't."
"Don't lie to me, boy." Hank took a swing at him, and, though he'd been able to duck Liz's fist, Hank's hit him right across the jawbone. Michael stumbled backwards, and the man advanced, pinning him against the edge of the bed. "I'm sick of all your lies!" the drunkard roared, hitting him with each word. Michael tried to cringe away, but he could only get so far, so after a while he had no other choice but to wait until his foster father grew bored or passed out, whichever came first.
Turns out the man had better things to do, because after a few minutes of wailing on the boy, he left the trailer with a bang. Michael forced himself to stand up and go into the kitchen. He filled a plastic baggie (the last one) with a few ice cubes (the last ones) and pressed it to his face, stumbling back into his room.
When he woke up the next morning, his face wasn't as bad as he'd expected it to be, but it still looked awful. He groaned and looked away from the mirror, stumbling into his room to get dressed for school.
Dammit. He was too late to make it to Max and Isabel's house. Great. Maybe he could catch him before class started. He headed out, grimacing as he caught one more sight of himself in a mirror.
At school, the hallways were empty. He was late. Yay. He snuck over to the door of the classroom that he knew Max was in, and peered in through the window. Liz was resting her chin in her hand and doodling boredly, but almost immediately, she looked up, and at Michael. Her eyes widened, and he gestured towards Max, who was sitting next to her, taking notes like a good little student. Liz kicked him, and he jerked his head up. She pointed towards the door, and Max looked up. It looked like he was then trying to get permission to...probably use the bathroom, and he was finally released.
"What happened?" Max asked incredulously. Duh, hi Max. Welcome to the world. Max smacked his forehead. "Nevermind. Come on."
They went into the bathroom, where Max fixed Michael's face. Michael really had no desire to class, so he leaned against the sink.
"Since when do you sit next to Liz?"
Max flushed scarlet. "We got new seats today."
"And of course you had no influence over the teacher's list?"
Max looked scandalized. "I don't-you-I-"
"Calm down, Maxwell, I was kidding."
"I should go back to class now."
"Because quadratic equations are so riveting?"
"No."
"Then because you're sitting next to Liz?"
More blushing. "No!"
Michael snorted. "I was kidding, man. Go on."
"You should go too."
"I've got English. I'll go, Dad."
Max made a face and left, and Michael reluctantly headed to class.
After classes, Liz and Michael were, once again, two of the only people left in the hallway. Isabel had some dance thing, so of course Max the devoted little brother went. Liz swung her backpack over her shoulder just as Michael slammed his locker shut, and she turned around.
"Hey, your face-" she began.
"Yeah, no photos please. Would you like an autograph, though?"
"Ha ha. No. What-it was..." She shook her head. "You heal faster than I do."
"Yeah."
Alex ran up to them. "Hey Liz, you ready?"
"Yeah."
"What're you two doing?"
"It's his band's third practice."
"Um. Congratulations?"
"Thanks. Come on, Liz. I can't be late."
"Yeah yeah yeah. Bye, Michael."
And Alex whisked them away down the hall.
The next day, a while after school, Max dragged Michael to the Crashdown. The restaurant was empty, and Liz was twirling around, singing once again.
"Maybe when the room is empty,
Maybe when the bottle's full,
Maybe when the door gets broke down love can break in.
Maybe when I'm done with thinking,
Maybe you can think me whole,
Maybe when I'm done with endings this can begin.
This can begin, this can begin...
If you could be my punk rock princess,
I would be your garage band king.
You could tell me why you just don't fit in,
And how you're going to be something.
Maybe when your hair gets darker,
Maybe when your eyes get wide,
Maybe when the walls are smaller there will be more... space,
Maybe when I'm not so tired,
Maybe you can step inside,
Maybe when the look for things that I cant replace.
I cant replace, I cant replace...
If you could be my punk rock princess,
I would be your garage band king.
You could tell me why you just don't fit in,
And how you're going to be something.
If I could be your first real heartache,
I would do it over again!
If you could be my punk rock princess,
I would be your heroine.
I never thought you'd last,
I never dreamed you would,
You watched your life go past,
You wonder if you should!
Now you should be my punk rock princess,
I would be your garage band king.
You could tell me why you just don't fit in,
And how you're gonna be something.
If I could be your first real heartache,
I would do it over again!
If you could be my punk rock princess,
I would be your heroine.
Whoa oooh, you know,
You only burn my bridges
Whoa oooh, you know,
You just cant let it sink in...
You could be my heroine,
You could be my heroine!!!!" She gave a final twirl and tossed the rag she was using to wipe down the tables at the counter, then turned around to see the boys. She turned pink, but then bowed. "I should really know better by now, huh?" she asked sheepishly. Michael snorted.
"What song was that?" Max asked.
"Um. Punk Rock Princess. Alex's band was playing it last night. He wrote it." She twirled once more and gave a little curtsey. "For me, he said." She laughed. "But I think it's actually for a certain blonde-haired girl we know."
"Maria?" Michael asked, pretending to be confused. As if on cue, said blonde-haired girl came grumbling into the restaurant, pushing her bobber- antennae things up onto her head.
"Liz, I swear to every god who has ever walked this earth or has yet to walk this earth that I am going to kill your boyfriend!"
"What'd he do now, Maria? And he's not my boyfriend."
"He and his stupid friends were making fun of my uniform." She stomped behind the counter. Michael slid onto the counter and flicked at her antennae.
"Because there's nothing to make fun of, is there?" he taunted. She grabbed at his finger, but missed.
"Don't mess with me, Spikeboy." She growled. He held his hands up in surrender and slid off the counter.
"So Alex wrote a song for you?" Max asked, trying very hard not to sound jealous. Liz laughed and twirled again.
"Yeah. Or that's his story, anyway."
"Wait. Alex wrote a song for you, Liz?" Maria asked.
"He says he did. I think it's for Isabel."
"That's awesome! Which one?"
"Punk Rock Princess. Hand me that rag, please?"
"Cool. He never wrote one for me..." She pretended to pout. Michael grabbed Liz's hand and spun her, not that she needed any help.
"You're just not special, DePuke-uh." He said, making a face. Liz groaned, as did Maria.
"God, Michael. Be a little more unoriginal, 'kay?" Liz said, putting the towel on his head. He grimaced and pulled it off, placing it carefully on her head.
"Excuse you?"
"Oh, just that everyone and his pet iguana calls her that."
"Hey!" Maria exclaimed. "Not everyone!"
"Okay, Maria," Liz said, dancing out of Michael's grip. "Whatever you say."
"Shut up... Parking...Lot."
They stood silent for a few minutes, in awe of Maria's stunning display of her lack of the insult gene, until some customers came in and Liz had to get to work.
Finally the last customer left, and Liz seemingly collapsed onto a chair with a sigh. Michael once more slid onto the counter, after turning on the radio to a station playing Metallica. Maria, half-lying on a table, lifted her wrist in the direction of the radio.
"Find a good station, SpikeBoy."
"Just did, DePuke-uh."
Liz motioned for him to lean closer. He did, and she cuffed him one on the head.
"Hey!" He exclaimed indignantly. It hadn't hurt, but still.
"Find a good insult, 'SpikeBoy,'" Liz said, making a face at him. He rolled his eyes and rubbed the back of his head. "Oh, did the little Lizzy-wizzy hurt little Mikey-wikey?" Max cooed, standing next to the two of them. Liz snorted, and Michael glared at them.
"Just be glad you're a girl, Parker. I can't hit girls..."
"Didn't stop me," Liz shot back.
"Bite me, Parker."
"I've already eaten."
He smirked at her, and she giggled. Mr. Parker strode into the restaurant, and Liz was on her feet immediately.
"I'm going out for the night," Geoff told her brusquely. "You can close down?"
"Yes. Goodbye."
He nodded and was gone. As soon as his car left, Liz fell back onto the stool. Maria stood.
"Liz, can I go home? I'll be back for dinner, but I really really want to see my mom."
Something flashed across Liz's face, but she smiled and nodded. "Go on."
Maria leapt to her feet. "Thanks. You're my bestest friend." Liz grinned, and Maria disappeared, nearly running right into the Evanses, who entered, looking amused.
"I thought we might find you here, Max," Phillip said. Max flushed and shrugged, joining his family. "You up for an early dinner?"
"I could eat."
"There's no question as to whether you could eat, Max. You're a boy," Liz teased. He made a face at her, and she grinned.
"Michael, you want to eat with us?" "Nah. Not hungry."
"Okay. Then Liz, would you mind getting us four of the usuals?"
"Nope. Anything to drink?
"Same thing we usually get."
"Creatures of habit," Liz murmured with a smile, and then went into the kitchen to hand Jose (Michael had forgotten he was there) the order. Eventually, they had everything they'd ordered, and Liz went to sit at the counter. Michael, of course, followed. Neither of them felt compelled to speak (Michael liked that about Liz-she wasn't afraid of silence), and they just sort of sat side by side until the Evanses had finished their dinner and Liz had to get up to clear the table. Max kind of smiled at her as he left, and she smiled back, then went back to busying herself with the dishes. She turned towards the kitchen, and it quickly became obvious that she'd been a tad too ambitious. One of the plates she was carrying began teetering on top of the pile, and Michael leapt up to steady it. He was rewarded with one of her grins as she pushed into the kitchen.
Then it was closing time, and Liz gently ushered him into the night.
"See you tomorrow, Michael," she said, standing in the doorway and flipping the sign to 'Closed'.
"Tomorrow," he agreed, and headed back to the trailer park.
Email: NobodysFool2507yahoo.com
Rating: PG, for a bit of language and implied violence.
Genre:Drama/Angst (not so much angst...shrug Maybe)
Category: AU. Pre-shooting. Just a tad Polar, but absolutely nothing that would cause an uprising of Dreamer/Candy Fans. (heh...though maybe Dreamers are forming an alliance against me? Nah...that'd be too much to hope for. :P)
Disclaimer: They're mine! All mine! demented laughter Ooor not. They're Jason Katims and Co.'s. Evil demons. They should be vanquished. blissful grin Ahhh, if only.... cough Move along, folks. No evil plotting to see here. g
Summary: A not-so-short AU fic. Thirteen-year-old Michael is out one night, trying to escape Hank's fury for a while, when he stumbles across someone he hadn't expected to see and realizes that things aren't always what they seem.
Spoilers: Guys, the show's over. If you haven't seen an ep, you're not gonna. Lol. I don't think there's any, though.
A/N: By the time I post this, I'll be out of school. Good thing: I'll be out of school. Bad thing: One of the reasons I get up in the morning is so I can go to school to see this guy that I reallyreallyreally like. But no school=no guy. sigh I'll pour all my angst into this story, I guess. Bwahahahahahahaha! Lmao. Or...not. Also, I looked it up. The form of 'articulate' I should have used is 'articulateness', but 'articularity' just sounds so much better. And it fits better in the story. So deal with it. Also, can anyone help? I made an image I'd like to show in my signature thing, but it won't show up (hence the damn red x). Which set of code do you use-the HTML or...the other one we can use on here? There's this one scene where it seems like all the kids are on E or Speed or some combination of the two, but I just spent half an hour at this psycho website I've just found, and...well, it's psycho.
Credits: Okay. The song Liz sings is not Alex's, and it does not belong to Jason Katims, etc. It was performed (and written, I assume) by Something Corporate. Read on, lovely readers.
Things Aren't Always What They Seem Chapter Eight (OMG! does the eighth-chapter dance)
The two of them stood there for a while after the car had vanished around a corner, Liz carefully cradling her side. Michael turned to her.
"Why'd you stay?"
"What?"
"You could have gotten into that car with your mother and driven away from your father and been safe. Why did you stay?"
She looked at him in disbelief. "You've got to be kidding me. Didn't you see that guy? He was scary." She winced. "And none too gentle..."
"But she's your mother."
Liz's eyes lost their warmth. "She stopped being my mother the night she drove off." Her voice sounded hollow, with just enough of a tremor to betray her tears. Liz Parker wasn't supposed to sound like that. Michael put his arm around her. She stood stiffly under his touch for a second, but then he felt her half-collapse and wrap her arms around his waist, crying quietly into his chest. He didn't know how much solace she could find in him, but he gave her what he could, holding her tightly to his body, though careful not to hurt her. After a while, she stirred, and he reluctantly loosened his grip. He felt like he could have stood like that forever. She wiped her eyes on the bottom of her shirt, avoiding his eyes.
"I did it again," she said in self-derision. "That must make you pretty damn uncomfortable." She smiled apologetically. "Sorry."
He cleared his throat. "Ah, no... No problem. It-I... It's..." Speak, you fool! He shouted at himself. Before she thinks she's right. "I'm...not uncomfortable."
She smiled at him through her lashes-though because of what he'd said or at his stunning display of articularity, he didn't know. He reached up to tenderly rub at a teartrail she'd missed, and she dropped her eyes.
"So you're sure you're okay, then?"
She rolled her eyes and nodded. "Geez. You break down into hysterics two times and suddenly you're a china doll."
"I dunno. You've got the complexion down."
She made a face at him and tagged his arm, darting away. He rolled his eyes and gave chase, not even using his powers once.
Later in the afternoon, the two of them were still chasing each other around the park, though their game of tag had morphed into hide and seek. Just when Michael was sure he'd found Liz, Max ran up to him, panting, still wearing his suit.
"Michael, where's Liz?" he huffed, doubling over.
"That's what I'm trying to find out. Why?"
"Her mom's at my house."
Liz stumbled out of the bush, and Michael whooped triumphantly. "I knew you were in there! Wait. Her mom's at your house? Why?"
Max shrugged. "She wants to talk to Liz."
Liz was pale, but shrugged, and they all ran to the Evanses' house, where four people were standing on the porch. They slowed down, and poor Max looked about ready to drop. The adults headed down, and Liz stepped away from that Rob character, who was clenching the hand she'd bitten.
"How hard did you bite him?" Michael whispered. She shrugged, looking sick.
"I think I may have tasted blood."
"Your mother would like to talk to you in private," the guy said coldly. Liz looked at him like 'who in holy hell do you think you are' and turned to her mother.
"What you have to say to me, you can say in front of everyone here." She lowered her voice so that only her mother, Michael, and the guy could hear her. "Anyway, how do I know you won't try to shove me in the car?"
Nancy tsk-tsked. "Lizzie, you need to come with me," she pleaded, getting to her knees. "A little girl needs her mommy."
"I'm not a little girl."
"You're right. I'm sorry. But a girl needs her mother-another woman. Who are you going to go to when you get your period? Your father?" She laughed slightly, as though this were funny.
"Mrs. Evans."
"Honey, Diane has enough on her hands without another little-I'm sorry- without another daughter in the house." She laughed.
"No, Mom. I went to Mrs. Evans."
Nancy's face fell. "When?"
"Last night. You just missed it." A sardonic smile flickered across Liz's darkened features.
"Oh. But you still need me-Girls need their mothers."
"I don't."
"Elizabeth, listen to me-" She reached out and took Liz's hand in her own, standing up.
"No, Mom. You listen to me!" Liz shouted, yanking her arm violently away. "The only things you've ever given me are band-aids and empty promises! What makes you think that I'm going to leave the people I love, just to go with you until you decide that you can't take this guy anymore and you run off again? What the hell gives you the right to ask me to do that?"
Nancy's face turned red with anger. "I am your mother, young lady."
"You're not my mother!" Liz screamed, rage distorting her sweet voice. "You're just some woman who happened to live with me for thirteen years and then ran off with some guy who isn't my father!"
Nancy's face went pale, and she reached out and slapped Liz. Liz just stood there, eyes glittering angrily. Nancy realized what she'd done and reached out to touch Liz's cheek, which was turning pink with her handprint. Liz stepped back, glaring silently at her.
"Lizzie, baby, I'm sorry. I don't know what came over me..." Nancy again tried to touch her daughter, but Liz knocked her hand away.
"Don't ever touch me again. Get in the car with your boyfriend, leave Roswell, and never come back. I will not come with you. I am not your daughter. Do not even try to speak to me," Liz said softly but menacingly. Even Michael was intimidated, but Nancy, eyes turned unreadable, nodded and turned. Rob tried to stare Liz down, but dropped his gaze first and got into the car. No one spoke, even after the car had once more disappeared. Michael noticed that Liz was trembling-probably from the adrenaline coursing through her body. He put his hands on her shoulders and tried his best to rub the tension out. She relaxed slightly and then stepped out of his grasp.
"Liz, honey..." Diane began. "What was that about?"
Liz shrugged and scuffed her shoe in the dirt.
"Where did your mother want to take you? And who was that man?"
"I don't know. I...don't know." She sighed helplessly. The remaining adults said nothing, but seemed to be having a conversation with their eyes. They then went inside, and Liz watched them nervously but resignedly, sinking into a sitting position in the grass. Michael sat on one side of her; Max on the other, and they sat there for a while, until Liz yawned squeakily, then laughed.
"Yelling at a former parental unit takes a lot out of you," she said with a smile. Michael laughed and rubbed her back. Max was still in his shocked silence, and Liz poked him in the leg.
"What's wrong, Evans?" She asked. He shook his head.
"Nothing. Just thinking."
"Well, don't strain yourself." She smiled kindly, so he'd know she was kidding, and he rolled his eyes and looked away. Michael snaked his arm up around Liz's neck in a sort of hug, then left it there. Mr. Parker's car drove up, parking where the other one had been just minutes ago, and Geoff stepped out. Liz immediately shrugged Michael's arm off her shoulder and stood up.
"Elizabeth, are you ready?" he asked, regarding the boys coldly.
"I just need to get my bag," Liz said quietly.
"Let's go get it. I need to talk to the Evanses."
"Yes sir."
They went into the house, Liz not even looking at the two of them. A few minutes later, they reappeared in the door, Geoff leading Liz to the car.
"Bye," Max called. Liz looked up, smiling worriedly, as she got into the passenger seat.
The next day, Michael didn't see Liz until lunch, where she was sitting with Alex. Even from across the courtyard, he could tell her father had done something to her last night. He headed over, Max in tow.
"What happened?" he asked. Alex had his arm around her protectively. "And don't lie to me."
Liz sighed, but then smiled wryly. "I don't want to tell you."
"Why?"
"Because I don't."
"You-"
"Michael, I'm fine. It was just the usual."
He glared at her, but let it go, and they ate their lunch.
When school was over, Liz quickly headed out of the room. Michael followed.
"Why don't you want to tell me?" he asked. She glared at her locker as she opened it and put her books inside.
"It doesn't matter."
"Yeah it does. Didn't we agree-no lies?"
"First off, this isn't a lie, Michael. I really don't want to tell you. Second, when did you become a control freak?"
"A what?"
"A control freak. I didn't stutter, did I? All these 'rules' for me?"
"For?—Liz, they're for both of us. We both agreed, no lies and no pity. That's not being controlling."
"Fine."
"So tell me."
Liz rolled her eyes and went to leave, but he grabbed her wrist and spun her back. She tried to yank away, glaring at him.
"Don't touch me like that," she said levelly. He let her go.
"Sorry. Just tell me."
Liz waited for the last few kids in the hallway to pass them, then turned towards him. "Last night, when Dad saw me sitting between you and Max, with your arm around me, he got the wrong idea."
"He thought-"
"Yeah. We got home and he made it quite clear that if I were ever to—whatever...well, I just wouldn't."
"What'd he do?"
"I'd rather forget about it." She shuddered, and went to leave again. Again, he grabbed her arm. She spun around and swung a fist at him, but he ducked it.
"Sorry. Liz, your dad didn't-he didn't..."
"Didn't what?" Her eyes were challenging.
"He didn't..." He cleared his throat. "...You know... Um... Touch you...in that way?"
Liz snorted. "Please, Michael." She shook her head in disbelief. "You're such a drama queen."
"Am not."
"Are so."
"Then what'd he do?"
"Just made it quite obvious that he doesn't like the idea that I'm growing up."
"Are you okay?"
"Yeah. It wasn't bad this time. I'm fine."
"You're sure?"
She looked at him blankly. "Would you prefer it if I fainted?"
"Sorry."
"Yeah, yeah. I gotta get home."
"Okay. See you."
That night, Michael went to bed far earlier that any sane person would. There was just nothing else to do, and, quickly growing irritated with the feeling of listlessness that was taking over, Michael sought the only escape-and was quickly snoring on his bed, his arms wrapped around his pillow.
But it wasn't to last. Around midnight, a loud banging sound woke him up. Hank. Michael tried to pretend he was asleep, but it just wasn't going to happen. Hank stumbled into Michael's bedroom and flipped the overhead light on.
"Get up, boy," he slurred, yanking the covers away. Michael obeyed, standing in front of the man.
"What?"
"You know 'what'."
"No I don't."
"Don't lie to me, boy." Hank took a swing at him, and, though he'd been able to duck Liz's fist, Hank's hit him right across the jawbone. Michael stumbled backwards, and the man advanced, pinning him against the edge of the bed. "I'm sick of all your lies!" the drunkard roared, hitting him with each word. Michael tried to cringe away, but he could only get so far, so after a while he had no other choice but to wait until his foster father grew bored or passed out, whichever came first.
Turns out the man had better things to do, because after a few minutes of wailing on the boy, he left the trailer with a bang. Michael forced himself to stand up and go into the kitchen. He filled a plastic baggie (the last one) with a few ice cubes (the last ones) and pressed it to his face, stumbling back into his room.
When he woke up the next morning, his face wasn't as bad as he'd expected it to be, but it still looked awful. He groaned and looked away from the mirror, stumbling into his room to get dressed for school.
Dammit. He was too late to make it to Max and Isabel's house. Great. Maybe he could catch him before class started. He headed out, grimacing as he caught one more sight of himself in a mirror.
At school, the hallways were empty. He was late. Yay. He snuck over to the door of the classroom that he knew Max was in, and peered in through the window. Liz was resting her chin in her hand and doodling boredly, but almost immediately, she looked up, and at Michael. Her eyes widened, and he gestured towards Max, who was sitting next to her, taking notes like a good little student. Liz kicked him, and he jerked his head up. She pointed towards the door, and Max looked up. It looked like he was then trying to get permission to...probably use the bathroom, and he was finally released.
"What happened?" Max asked incredulously. Duh, hi Max. Welcome to the world. Max smacked his forehead. "Nevermind. Come on."
They went into the bathroom, where Max fixed Michael's face. Michael really had no desire to class, so he leaned against the sink.
"Since when do you sit next to Liz?"
Max flushed scarlet. "We got new seats today."
"And of course you had no influence over the teacher's list?"
Max looked scandalized. "I don't-you-I-"
"Calm down, Maxwell, I was kidding."
"I should go back to class now."
"Because quadratic equations are so riveting?"
"No."
"Then because you're sitting next to Liz?"
More blushing. "No!"
Michael snorted. "I was kidding, man. Go on."
"You should go too."
"I've got English. I'll go, Dad."
Max made a face and left, and Michael reluctantly headed to class.
After classes, Liz and Michael were, once again, two of the only people left in the hallway. Isabel had some dance thing, so of course Max the devoted little brother went. Liz swung her backpack over her shoulder just as Michael slammed his locker shut, and she turned around.
"Hey, your face-" she began.
"Yeah, no photos please. Would you like an autograph, though?"
"Ha ha. No. What-it was..." She shook her head. "You heal faster than I do."
"Yeah."
Alex ran up to them. "Hey Liz, you ready?"
"Yeah."
"What're you two doing?"
"It's his band's third practice."
"Um. Congratulations?"
"Thanks. Come on, Liz. I can't be late."
"Yeah yeah yeah. Bye, Michael."
And Alex whisked them away down the hall.
The next day, a while after school, Max dragged Michael to the Crashdown. The restaurant was empty, and Liz was twirling around, singing once again.
"Maybe when the room is empty,
Maybe when the bottle's full,
Maybe when the door gets broke down love can break in.
Maybe when I'm done with thinking,
Maybe you can think me whole,
Maybe when I'm done with endings this can begin.
This can begin, this can begin...
If you could be my punk rock princess,
I would be your garage band king.
You could tell me why you just don't fit in,
And how you're going to be something.
Maybe when your hair gets darker,
Maybe when your eyes get wide,
Maybe when the walls are smaller there will be more... space,
Maybe when I'm not so tired,
Maybe you can step inside,
Maybe when the look for things that I cant replace.
I cant replace, I cant replace...
If you could be my punk rock princess,
I would be your garage band king.
You could tell me why you just don't fit in,
And how you're going to be something.
If I could be your first real heartache,
I would do it over again!
If you could be my punk rock princess,
I would be your heroine.
I never thought you'd last,
I never dreamed you would,
You watched your life go past,
You wonder if you should!
Now you should be my punk rock princess,
I would be your garage band king.
You could tell me why you just don't fit in,
And how you're gonna be something.
If I could be your first real heartache,
I would do it over again!
If you could be my punk rock princess,
I would be your heroine.
Whoa oooh, you know,
You only burn my bridges
Whoa oooh, you know,
You just cant let it sink in...
You could be my heroine,
You could be my heroine!!!!" She gave a final twirl and tossed the rag she was using to wipe down the tables at the counter, then turned around to see the boys. She turned pink, but then bowed. "I should really know better by now, huh?" she asked sheepishly. Michael snorted.
"What song was that?" Max asked.
"Um. Punk Rock Princess. Alex's band was playing it last night. He wrote it." She twirled once more and gave a little curtsey. "For me, he said." She laughed. "But I think it's actually for a certain blonde-haired girl we know."
"Maria?" Michael asked, pretending to be confused. As if on cue, said blonde-haired girl came grumbling into the restaurant, pushing her bobber- antennae things up onto her head.
"Liz, I swear to every god who has ever walked this earth or has yet to walk this earth that I am going to kill your boyfriend!"
"What'd he do now, Maria? And he's not my boyfriend."
"He and his stupid friends were making fun of my uniform." She stomped behind the counter. Michael slid onto the counter and flicked at her antennae.
"Because there's nothing to make fun of, is there?" he taunted. She grabbed at his finger, but missed.
"Don't mess with me, Spikeboy." She growled. He held his hands up in surrender and slid off the counter.
"So Alex wrote a song for you?" Max asked, trying very hard not to sound jealous. Liz laughed and twirled again.
"Yeah. Or that's his story, anyway."
"Wait. Alex wrote a song for you, Liz?" Maria asked.
"He says he did. I think it's for Isabel."
"That's awesome! Which one?"
"Punk Rock Princess. Hand me that rag, please?"
"Cool. He never wrote one for me..." She pretended to pout. Michael grabbed Liz's hand and spun her, not that she needed any help.
"You're just not special, DePuke-uh." He said, making a face. Liz groaned, as did Maria.
"God, Michael. Be a little more unoriginal, 'kay?" Liz said, putting the towel on his head. He grimaced and pulled it off, placing it carefully on her head.
"Excuse you?"
"Oh, just that everyone and his pet iguana calls her that."
"Hey!" Maria exclaimed. "Not everyone!"
"Okay, Maria," Liz said, dancing out of Michael's grip. "Whatever you say."
"Shut up... Parking...Lot."
They stood silent for a few minutes, in awe of Maria's stunning display of her lack of the insult gene, until some customers came in and Liz had to get to work.
Finally the last customer left, and Liz seemingly collapsed onto a chair with a sigh. Michael once more slid onto the counter, after turning on the radio to a station playing Metallica. Maria, half-lying on a table, lifted her wrist in the direction of the radio.
"Find a good station, SpikeBoy."
"Just did, DePuke-uh."
Liz motioned for him to lean closer. He did, and she cuffed him one on the head.
"Hey!" He exclaimed indignantly. It hadn't hurt, but still.
"Find a good insult, 'SpikeBoy,'" Liz said, making a face at him. He rolled his eyes and rubbed the back of his head. "Oh, did the little Lizzy-wizzy hurt little Mikey-wikey?" Max cooed, standing next to the two of them. Liz snorted, and Michael glared at them.
"Just be glad you're a girl, Parker. I can't hit girls..."
"Didn't stop me," Liz shot back.
"Bite me, Parker."
"I've already eaten."
He smirked at her, and she giggled. Mr. Parker strode into the restaurant, and Liz was on her feet immediately.
"I'm going out for the night," Geoff told her brusquely. "You can close down?"
"Yes. Goodbye."
He nodded and was gone. As soon as his car left, Liz fell back onto the stool. Maria stood.
"Liz, can I go home? I'll be back for dinner, but I really really want to see my mom."
Something flashed across Liz's face, but she smiled and nodded. "Go on."
Maria leapt to her feet. "Thanks. You're my bestest friend." Liz grinned, and Maria disappeared, nearly running right into the Evanses, who entered, looking amused.
"I thought we might find you here, Max," Phillip said. Max flushed and shrugged, joining his family. "You up for an early dinner?"
"I could eat."
"There's no question as to whether you could eat, Max. You're a boy," Liz teased. He made a face at her, and she grinned.
"Michael, you want to eat with us?" "Nah. Not hungry."
"Okay. Then Liz, would you mind getting us four of the usuals?"
"Nope. Anything to drink?
"Same thing we usually get."
"Creatures of habit," Liz murmured with a smile, and then went into the kitchen to hand Jose (Michael had forgotten he was there) the order. Eventually, they had everything they'd ordered, and Liz went to sit at the counter. Michael, of course, followed. Neither of them felt compelled to speak (Michael liked that about Liz-she wasn't afraid of silence), and they just sort of sat side by side until the Evanses had finished their dinner and Liz had to get up to clear the table. Max kind of smiled at her as he left, and she smiled back, then went back to busying herself with the dishes. She turned towards the kitchen, and it quickly became obvious that she'd been a tad too ambitious. One of the plates she was carrying began teetering on top of the pile, and Michael leapt up to steady it. He was rewarded with one of her grins as she pushed into the kitchen.
Then it was closing time, and Liz gently ushered him into the night.
"See you tomorrow, Michael," she said, standing in the doorway and flipping the sign to 'Closed'.
"Tomorrow," he agreed, and headed back to the trailer park.