The Funeral (AU, Teen, M/L) 1/1 08/16/06

Finished stories that feature the characters from the show, but there are no aliens. All fics completed on the main AU without Aliens board will eventually be moved here.

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Tinkerbell_Luvs_Roswell
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The Funeral (AU, Teen, M/L) 1/1 08/16/06

Post by Tinkerbell_Luvs_Roswell » Wed Aug 16, 2006 10:50 am

<center>Image</center>
<center> Banner by Evelynn</center>

Title: The Funeral
Disclaimer: I do not own Roswell
Pairings/Couples/Category: M/L
Rating: Teen
Summary: I don't want to give anything away since it's only a one parter, but the title gives you an idea
A/N: Thank you to Laura aka Lairabehr4 for beta this for me and Evelynn for the beautiful banner!

<center>The Funeral</center>

The dark clouds follow the grief-stricken pallbearers as they take the heavy coffin to its resting place. The air is thick with sorrow, causing the funeral patrons to take a shaky breath, trying to keep their grief at bay. The black sea of heads and bodies make their way to the open grave claiming its newest victim. The pallbearers’ faces are expressionless as they make their way to the grave. Dressed in black, they look like bringers of death taking away the deceased. With much agony they lower the coffin to its new home, where it will forever lay. Stepping back they quietly take their place next to the other mourners. The minister begins his pastoral on the life that now lives in the dark mahogany coffin. He tells the weeping mourners about the life that taken too soon and what a marvelous soul she had. The family takes comfort in his words, living in memories of their own.

I close my eyes as I begin to remember every moment I had with her, and the regrets that I wish I could fix. I wish I had more time to be with her. I wish that I had been here when she took her final breath on this earth. She changed my life in so many ways and I never even got to say ‘thank you’ or ‘I love you’ one more time. She will always be a part of me and I am glad because I know I will always have a piece of her.

Although it’s been six months since I last saw her, I can still picture her to perfection. I can see her blonde wavy hair flowing over her shoulder making her look enchanting. I can still see her sparkling blue eyes dancing in merriment as we laugh and goof around like kids. I can hear her giggles as I do an impersonation of my overbearing boss and I can remember with absolute clarity the happiness that surrounded her. It’s hard to believe that was only six months ago. A few weeks before that day she discovered that she had cervical cancer and only had about nine months left to live.

I remember the day I got the phone call. I had just arrived home from work and was about to go out and celebrate with some friends. I had just gotten a promotion; I was the new editor of the Chicago Sun-Times. I only came home because I wanted to take a shower before I went out; otherwise I would have missed the call altogether. I was stepping out of the shower when my phone began to shrill to life. I answered the phone only to receive the most shocking news of my life. I didn’t celebrate that night, instead I cried myself to sleep. The next day I was on a flight to California to see her.

Even though she’d received the most horrendous news of her life, she was like always in high spirits. When the taxi arrived at her house, I just sat there watching her. She was outside playing with her nine-year-old son, laughing as they wrestled around in the warm green grass. The tears threatened to spill from my eyes and I couldn’t believe she was going to die.

The minister breaks my thoughts as he says a heartfelt goodbye to a truly amazing person. A man from the church slowly lowers her grave into the ground and my heart stops beating for a moment. This is it my final goodbye to her. I glance at her mother, who is wrapped in her husband’s arms. Her cries are earth-shattering and they hit me like a tidal wave, but I won’t cry in front of them. Her face is wet and she turns from the grave unable to look at the coffin. Her husband tries to soothe her, but is unable to. His face is ghostly white and I know his mind is questioning. Wondering why she had to die so young and wishing that his daughter was still alive. Asking God, why her?

I avert my eyes from them and glance at the man standing next to them, her husband. He is a tall lanky man with a heart of gold and an amazing sense of humor. I watch as his face clouds over in doubt and disbelieve. He lowers his head as the coffin hits the ground with a thump, desperately trying to fight the tears away. His attention is pulled from his wife’s grave to their son as his cries become loud and painful. Picking up the sad stricken child he tries to settle down his son, but he fails. Instead his angry tears begin to flow and he stands there holding his son on shaky legs.

I once again avert my eyes. Their display of emotion strikes me with despair and I desperately fight off the salty tears that want to appear. When I lift my head my eyes collide with radiant amber eyes. I get lost in the amber pools that are shining into me. I forgot how beautiful they were. How I use to be able to get lost in them for hours. I blink slowly, forever imprinting them in my mind before I take the rest of him in.

His face is haggard with dark circles underlining his eyes. His dark brown hair is cropped short, making him look younger and more rugged. His suit fits him to perfection, showing off his toned body. He stands there looking like a model out of the newest edition of GQ. He looks haunted and tired, but still as beautiful as the first time I met him. I stare at him, drinking him in, mesmerized by his engulfing presence. Even though it’s been three years since I have seen him, I still love him. I wish now more than ever that he was here with me, that he was comforting me and I was comforting him, but my wishes fall on deaf ears. We no longer are apart of each other’s lives. We no longer know each other.

Three years before was one of the happiest times in my life. I was engaged to be married to the man of my dreams. I was planning my dream wedding and enjoying life to its fullest. I had never been so happy in my life, never loved someone the way that I loved the man standing in front of me. But that happiness came crashing down on me two weeks before I said I do. He came to me one night and said he was leaving. He told me that although he loved me he was not ready for marriage, to make that kind of commitment. I begged him to stay, told him we could postpone the wedding and wait until he was ready, but he would hear none of it. So he left me. Left me to tell everyone the wedding was off, left me with the humiliation of returning all of the wedding gifts we received, but most of all he left me sad and broken. Most women would become scornful and curse men and hate them for the rest of their lives, but not me. I loved him too much to let him go.

The funeral party begins to leave heading for the wake to give the family members their condolences. Glancing back at the man of my dreams, he gives me a small dreary smile before turning and heading for the church. I don’t move though I stand there looking at the grave, wondering why life has to be cruel. I watch in horror as three men begin to cover her grave with dirt. I watch as one of the men wearing coveralls wheels a wheelbarrow full of dirt over to her grave and pours it in. One by one the men wheel over dirt, dump it and then go back for more. I stand there watching in fascination as my best friend becomes nothing but a grave and memories. None of the men say anything to me and for that I am grateful. I just stand there for the next half hour just watching them work.

I remember the first day we met . It was the first day of third grade and her family had moved to Roswell over the summer. I had seen her once before our first meeting in the Crashdown eating lunch with her parents. Although I don’t remember in great detail what exactly happened that day in the Crashdown I do remember meeting her the first day of third grade at lunch time. She was in my class when she arrived she was shy and reserved. Unlike most of the students who knew the kids in the class because it was the same kids since kindergarten she was truly alone. It was later that I discover that her twin brother was placed in a fourth grade class because of his test scores. I remember I had just sat down with Stacey and Maria giggling over our new teacher Mr. Thompson and who was going to marry him when they get older.

“When I get older I am going to marry Mr. Thompson!” Maria said boldly before taking a bit out of her favorite sandwich mayo and peanut butter.

“Maria, you can’t marry Mr. Thompson.” Stacey informs her best friend.

“And why not?” Maria asks, crossing her arms over her pink jean jacket. I glance at Stacey with great interest. Although these two are best friends they bicker like Maria and her nemesis Michael Guerin.

“Because you are going to marry Michael.” she tells Maria matter. Oh no, here it comes. If there is one person Maria hates, it is Michael. I tone Maria out as she begins her fight with Stacey when I notice a blonde girl holding a blue plastic lunch tray in her hands she is looking around trying to decide where to sit. I glance to Maria and Stacey who are at the moment going back and forth with no I won’t and yes you will. Shaking my head I decide to go over and talk to the girl.

“Hi” I say as I walk over to her. Her head snaps up and she looks at me with piercing blue eyes.

“Hi” she says back quietly

“Did you want to eat with me and my friends for lunch?”

She must have seen where I was sitting earlier because she glances over at the table that Maria and Stacey are sitting at. Maria and Stacey of course are oblivious to this because their still fighting. I can tell because her face is really red.

“Ok,” she tells me. I nod my head ok not sure what to say to her and I begin leading her over to my table.


I shake my head that memory always making me feel light and giddy inside. Those were the days we had no worries and we could just hang out and have fun, but like everything else it came to an end. After that day in the cafeteria we became inseparable all the way through high school. Then I went away to school at Northwestern and her to the University of San Francisco. It was there that I fell in love with the man of my dreams. Another thing about that memory that always warms my heart was that Stacey was right, Maria did marry Michael and Mr. Thompson, well he married the cafeteria lady. She always thought it was fitting.

“Were done, ma’am” the man with the coveralls tells me breaking the silence that has blanketed us for the past half hour. I nod my head in understanding, but I don’t make a sound or a move. He gives me a heart-felt smile before heading off to wherever it is he must go now. I wait until he is out of sight before I make my way in front of her grave. I sit down, afraid my wobbly legs might give out any second. I sit and stare, wishing that none of this was real, that it was all a dream. My fingers begin to trace the letters carved into the headstone.

<center>Isabel Whitman
Loving wife and mother
August 19, 1976 – January 05, 2006
</center>

Unable to hold my tears back anymore, my bone-crushing sobs begin to pour from me like a river breaking free of a dam. The loss that is digging into my chest is unbearable and my body begins to shake from the emotions that are coursing through my body. I feel strong arms engulf me in a tight embrace and I know it is him. It’s always him. He holds me as I cry for Isabel, cry for my loss and cry for the loss of my happily ever after. I let it all out and he comforts me. I feel his large warm hands caress my back in hopes to calm me, but I can’t stop the tears. I am afraid if I don’t let them out now they will forever stay locked up inside of me. They will forever become apart of me and cause the rest of my life to be full of misery. I don’t understand any of it why her? Why now? She had the purest heart I knew she didn’t deserve to have her life taken from her this soon. Why? Why? Why?

When I finally cry my final tear I take a long deep breath and try to calm my nerves. I pull away from him and look at him. I notice the tears that stain his face and the tight frown that lies upon his lips. I know he’s hurting, but I also know he won’t shed his tears in front of anyone else besides me. So I pull him close and begin to soothe him as he begins to cry. I comfort him like he comforted me and just hold him and he cries for the sister he has just lost. Whenever he needed her, he would call and she would be there for him the way a twin sister should. He lost just as much as I did if not more. Like Isabel and I, they were also inseparable and always knew each other’s secrets. He would protect his sister when need and Isabel would teach him that loving someone is the most beautiful thing in the world. I know he was scared and probably blaming himself. As her brother he should have been able to prevent this, stop this just do something to save her, but nothing could be done.

He pulls away wiping at his angry tears before looking at me. I stare back at him, unsure of what to say to him. I haven’t seen him in three years, but none of that seems to matter. Even on this sad day we know how to comfort each other the way no one else can. We know each other’s hearts and soul inside and out. Our arms wrapped around each other is all we need at this moment. I get lost in him letting go of my sorrow for just a moment and taking comfort in his presence and letting the peace that he brings wash over me. Tears begin to fall from my eyes once more as I think of how I could have possibly lived without this man for three years. How did I function? How did I go from one day to the next living my life? The answer of course was that I didn’t. After he left I was a shell of my former life I began taking on as much as I could, but I was never living never alive. The only time I am ever alive is when I am with him because he holds my very essence in the palm of his callous hands. He slowly reaches up his hand and wipes away my tears. All the time his eyes never leave me. His stare is so overwhelming that I have to look away from his soul bearing eyes.

“Liz?” he says in a quiet whisper.

“Hmm” I say looking back at him

“I…I...love you.” he tells me. His face warms in embarrassment and it’s the cutest thing I have ever seen.

I look at him unable to say anything; I am stunned into silence. Realizing that he is scared that I might brush him off, I lean in slowly and give him a small gentle kiss on the lips. Sealing a promise and telling him I love him with that small gesture. I know he knew what I was telling him, he always knows. I glance around the graveyard, which is completely empty with the exception of us. Glancing at the sky I realize it’s almost dark as the sun is in its final moment of setting in the New Mexico horizon. I know it’s time. It’s time to leave and say goodbye to final let go, but not to forget. I slowly rise holding out my hand for him take. When he takes my hand sparks shoot up my arm carrying warmth to my heart. Turning we begin to make our descent to the church and the life ahead of us. As we make our way I am unable to go without one more chance to say goodbye to Isabel, I stop to give her my final farewell. With a sad smile I tell her I love her always and thank her for giving him back to me.

“I’ll never forget you.” I whisper goodbye to her before following the man of my dreams to my happily ever after.
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