Re: Snapshot (AU M/L MATURE)Chapter 49 July 11th p. 16
Posted: Tue Jul 21, 2009 6:32 am
Thank you
keepsmiling7
Eve
mezz
Kris
roswell3053
yayaliens
Destiny
Natalie
Laira
Coccy
kismet
Ms_BuffyAnneSummers
nitpick23
Tamashii
sunrise102
Sara
twilight
Dreamers_fan_believe
Alien_Friend
spacegirl23
Roswell Fan Forever
and special thanks to Elizabeth for editing and LairaBehr4 for making sure I continued writing yesterday.
This chapter is fairly short (by my standards anyway), but I felt like it needed to be told. We're now moving a long way back in time. And since this is fairly short, I have another update waiting which I'm gonna get up in the close future.
Updated Timeline
50. Hit by Reality
The Parkers’ Residence
(1995) Max is 10, Liz is 9
The frightening sound of brakes being hit too hard, of tires burning against the concrete, cut through the suburban summer day. Liz’s hand slipped at the sound, the red nail polish she had been aiming to put on her toe nail sliding down the side of the arch of her foot like a trail of fresh blood.
The awful sound ended abruptly, followed by an eerie silence when even the birds seemed too stunned to sing, until a boy’s desperate cry brought it to an end with his anguish.
A chill raced down her spine as the voice she knew so well broke in all the wrong places as he screamed at the top of his lungs and her breath got stuck in her throat as she listened. Her hand was trembling, still holding the forgotten brush covered in nail polish, having the dark red color touch against her skin.
Troooooper!
As if in trance, Liz replaced the brush into the jar with nail polish and screwed it tight. Getting to her feet, she walked up to the window and brushed the white curtain to the side.
Her large shiny eyes silently absorbed the scene on the street. A red-haired man, most likely the driver, stood next to his white Volvo, his hands on his head, his stance appearing tense even at this distance. Her gaze flickered to the front of the hood of the car, where a boy was kneeling, half of his body blocked by the large car. She caught movement in the corner of her eye and, willing herself to look away from the kneeling boy, she watched the familiar shape of her brother come running up to the car.
Max!
Michael’s voice was loud and clear as Max’s wailing had now dropped several octaves into a constant painful sound.
Like a wounded animal.
Liz swallowed, not wanting to give into any of her hypotheses. All of them entailing Max being hurt in some way.
But for some reason none of those theories were particularly high on her list.
Trooper
The name of Max’s black Labrador kept on ringing through the air as people came out from the safety of their houses to see what had happened.
And Liz knew that the dog had been hit. The realization hit her like a ton of bricks and she jumped in shocked surprise as a horrific hollow sob entered the silence of her bedroom. Her hand clamped over her mouth when she realized that the sound had come from her.
Stepping away from the window, tears running down her cheeks, she could still hear Max’s sorrow and she wanted to go down there and comfort him. But at the same time, the idea of seeing Max as upset as he sounded frightened her. He had always been this down-to-earth, solid entity in her life. He always managed to keep his cool and even though he usually spent most of his time trying to drive her nuts, she had always felt that she could turn to him in a crisis.
To hear him fall apart on the street outside her house was like a really bad dream.
Then she heard the front door slam downstairs and Michael’s agitated voice rushing through a thousand words a minute as he tried to explain to a puzzled Gabriela what had happened. Next she heard Gabriela on the phone, asking for a veterinarian.
Having the sense to pull a sweater over her tank top, Liz grabbed the closest one and pulled it over her head before heading downstairs.
Gabriela gave her a look that probably meant something along the lines of Don’t go outside, but as she was busy describing what had happened to the vet she couldn’t stop Liz as she opened the door and entered the war zone.
Or at least, that’s what it felt like.
Adults were running around trying to stop their curious kids from getting too close to the accident site, while they themselves couldn’t quite deny that they weren’t just as curious. The driver was trying to communicate with Max on the ground, throwing helpless glances around him. Trying to get some help from someone.
Could someone please get a hold of his mother?
Michael was standing behind Max’s crumbled figure, his body stiff and his face expressionless. Like a quiet solid support system; literally having Max’s back.
She noticed how her brother heard her approach, almost instinctively, and turned to watch her. She was semi-aware of him reaching out to stop her, but she just pushed his hands away. She felt his hands enclose around her upper arms, starting to pull her backwards, but not before she had seen the still body of the once so lively Labrador on the ground.
Trooper didn’t look hurt at all. Besides some blood visible in his nostrils, he almost looked asleep.
But the way Max was clutching the dog against him, his fingers buried in Trooper’s thick fur, told Liz magnitudes of what was really going on.
Trooper was dead.
Dead.
Dead.
Dead.
Liz took a deep breath.
Michael tugged on her still body and this time she gladly stepped back into her brother’s warm embrace. His arms enveloped her, encasing her in warmth as the heat of his body spread into her back.
Her eyes remained trained on the dog, but as the constant crying from Max softened, her attention drifted from the dead body to the one that was very much alive. The one that was still hurting.
Her hand reached out to touch Max’s shoulder and she felt Michael’s grip loosen around her body as she bent forward.
If Max had felt her touch, he didn’t acknowledge it. His crying resumed, his tears wetting the black fur as his hands convulsively held onto the fur.
So she sank down on her knees, moving up to him. Letting her hand slide down to rest on the ground behind Max’s back, she moved the weight of her body so that her head came down on his shoulder; her cheek pressed against his trembling shoulder.
She had no concept of how long they sat like that. It felt like a long time, waiting for the veterinarian or whoever would come and sort this out, but it was only about ten minutes. In that time, Max’s crying turned into sobs, which then turned into hiccups. In that time, Max straightened, red eyes looking away from Liz’s worried ones as he scanned his surroundings.
“He’s dead,” he whispered.
Liz bit her lip, almost surprised when he finally spoke. “I know.”
“We’re just playing and suddenly he just…took off.”
Liz swallowed and said softly, “Okay.”
“And I tried to get him to stop, but he wouldn’t listen.”
“Yeah,” Liz said quietly, not really knowing what to say.
“Hey sweetie, what’s your name?”
Liz and Max looked up in unison at the owner of the soft voice.
“This is Max,” Liz answered, when Max seemed to have lost his ability to speak.
“Is this your dog?” she wondered and Liz frowned at the woman.
Of course it was Max’s dog. Would he be clutching a strange dog like that?
But before she could open her mouth, Max nodded a reply.
“What’s his name?”
“Trooper,” Max whispered.
“Are you the vet?” Liz asked.
The woman nodded and answered quietly, as if to not disturb Max’s shocked feelings, “Yes, I’m Tracey.” Addressing the shocked boy, Tracey added, “Max, I need to take a look at Trooper.”
Max nodded again and the woman sat down next to the dog. Something told Liz that the vet already knew that Trooper was dead, but Liz could feel Max’s hope, his lingering trust in an adult’s capabilities.
Liz had a more realistic take on the world. As the vet started the search for a pulse and put the earpieces of a stethoscope in her ears, Liz attention was on Max. On how he would react when the optimism and hope would leave him.
It felt like forever while the vet ascertained if the dog was dead before she looked up with an apologetic face that had Max’s tears start anew even before she uttered the words.
“I’m sorry,” Tracey whispered.
Warm tears running down his cheeks, Max nodded his understanding as his eyes closed against the cruel reality.
“Max?!”
At the sound of his mother’s worried voice, his head snapped up, inadvertently pushing Liz away.
With a broken, “Mom,” he stumbled to his feet and buried himself into his mother’s consoling arms.
Liz watched them from her position on the ground, the emotions prickling her heart. Even though Max had just lost his dog, he had more than Liz would ever have. He had a loving mother, who cared about him.
Feeling the ugly sting of jealousy, Liz pushed off the ground and started to brush her shorts off.
In the midst of her tidying herself up, someone took her hand. She looked up at her big brother who was looking at her sadly. “You okay?”
Liz nodded. “Yeah.”
Michael followed Liz’s glance as she looked to her left at the dead dog. She watched the vet put her stethoscope across the back of her neck. Liz’s eyes followed the vet as she went to speak to the driver about the incident and by the time Liz looked back in Max’s direction, he was taken to the car by his mother.
And just like that, Max lost his dog.
“What do you need the money for?” Jeff asked.
“It’s a gift,” Liz answered.
“That’s a lot of money, Elizabeth.”
“I can pay you back later,” Liz said, her lips turning into a tight line of impatience and annoyance.
How come they could always buy her lots of expensive dresses (that she didn’t even like to wear) but when she really asked for something, they wouldn’t let her have it.
“With what?”
“My allowance.”
Her father sighed. “Who’s this gift for?”
Looking down at the floor, Liz answered evasively, “A friend.”
Mr. Parker’s eyebrows rose in mild amusement. “Does this friend of yours have a name?”
Sighing, Liz looked up. “Why can’t you just lend me the money?”
“Because with money comes responsibility. You have to learn how to save your own money and then buy what you want with that money.”
Liz pouted. “But that’s gonna take foooorever.”
“That’s the way it is.”
Liz stomped her feet. “But I need the money now!”
“What’s it for, Elizabeth?”
“Aaargh,” Liz exploded. “Fine! Keep your freaking money.”
Jeff frowned. “Elizabeth. Language.”
Groaning dramatically, Liz stormed off. No way she was telling her father where the money was going. It was not like he was more likely to give her the money if he knew and if he knew he would just be asking even more questions.
Running up the stairs to her room, Liz Parker wished that she was a grown-up and that she was allowed to make her own decisions. That she had her own money and could spend them however she wanted.
If she wanted to buy a dog for Max, she should be able to.
Slamming the door to her room she fell on her bed and screamed into her pillow.
Punching her fists into the soft mattress, she eventually cooled off and spun around. Staring up at the ceiling she vowed to herself that one day she would get Max Evans a dog.
If that was what it took to get the strong, stable, teasing Max back, that was what she would do.
She missed the annoying Max Evans with his drooling, barking dog. The one he’d insisted on taking with him everywhere, even into her bedroom when Gabriela wasn’t watching, so that there was dog saliva and black hair all over her white bedding.
She never wanted to see Max that sad again and she figured the solution was to get him another dog so that things could go back to normal as soon as possible.
Getting up from her bed she pulled out her “To Do”-pad and her favorite red pen. In neat block letters, she wrote;
1. GET NEW DOG FOR JERKFACE
Feeling satisfied that she at least had written it down she found a punch pin and pinned the paper on the notice board over her desk next to the photo of Michael, Max and her posing in front of the Evans’ house. Max was only partly visible (which is why she originally had liked that photo) due to a thick blurred black line coming from the side. Trooper, coming in from left field.
“Bye, Trooper,” Liz whispered.
TBC...
keepsmiling7
Eve
mezz
Kris
roswell3053
yayaliens
Destiny
Natalie
Laira
Coccy
kismet
Ms_BuffyAnneSummers
nitpick23
Tamashii
sunrise102
Sara
twilight
Dreamers_fan_believe
Alien_Friend
spacegirl23
Roswell Fan Forever
and special thanks to Elizabeth for editing and LairaBehr4 for making sure I continued writing yesterday.
This chapter is fairly short (by my standards anyway), but I felt like it needed to be told. We're now moving a long way back in time. And since this is fairly short, I have another update waiting which I'm gonna get up in the close future.
Updated Timeline
50. Hit by Reality
The Parkers’ Residence
(1995) Max is 10, Liz is 9
The frightening sound of brakes being hit too hard, of tires burning against the concrete, cut through the suburban summer day. Liz’s hand slipped at the sound, the red nail polish she had been aiming to put on her toe nail sliding down the side of the arch of her foot like a trail of fresh blood.
The awful sound ended abruptly, followed by an eerie silence when even the birds seemed too stunned to sing, until a boy’s desperate cry brought it to an end with his anguish.
A chill raced down her spine as the voice she knew so well broke in all the wrong places as he screamed at the top of his lungs and her breath got stuck in her throat as she listened. Her hand was trembling, still holding the forgotten brush covered in nail polish, having the dark red color touch against her skin.
Troooooper!
As if in trance, Liz replaced the brush into the jar with nail polish and screwed it tight. Getting to her feet, she walked up to the window and brushed the white curtain to the side.
Her large shiny eyes silently absorbed the scene on the street. A red-haired man, most likely the driver, stood next to his white Volvo, his hands on his head, his stance appearing tense even at this distance. Her gaze flickered to the front of the hood of the car, where a boy was kneeling, half of his body blocked by the large car. She caught movement in the corner of her eye and, willing herself to look away from the kneeling boy, she watched the familiar shape of her brother come running up to the car.
Max!
Michael’s voice was loud and clear as Max’s wailing had now dropped several octaves into a constant painful sound.
Like a wounded animal.
Liz swallowed, not wanting to give into any of her hypotheses. All of them entailing Max being hurt in some way.
But for some reason none of those theories were particularly high on her list.
Trooper
The name of Max’s black Labrador kept on ringing through the air as people came out from the safety of their houses to see what had happened.
And Liz knew that the dog had been hit. The realization hit her like a ton of bricks and she jumped in shocked surprise as a horrific hollow sob entered the silence of her bedroom. Her hand clamped over her mouth when she realized that the sound had come from her.
Stepping away from the window, tears running down her cheeks, she could still hear Max’s sorrow and she wanted to go down there and comfort him. But at the same time, the idea of seeing Max as upset as he sounded frightened her. He had always been this down-to-earth, solid entity in her life. He always managed to keep his cool and even though he usually spent most of his time trying to drive her nuts, she had always felt that she could turn to him in a crisis.
To hear him fall apart on the street outside her house was like a really bad dream.
Then she heard the front door slam downstairs and Michael’s agitated voice rushing through a thousand words a minute as he tried to explain to a puzzled Gabriela what had happened. Next she heard Gabriela on the phone, asking for a veterinarian.
Having the sense to pull a sweater over her tank top, Liz grabbed the closest one and pulled it over her head before heading downstairs.
Gabriela gave her a look that probably meant something along the lines of Don’t go outside, but as she was busy describing what had happened to the vet she couldn’t stop Liz as she opened the door and entered the war zone.
Or at least, that’s what it felt like.
Adults were running around trying to stop their curious kids from getting too close to the accident site, while they themselves couldn’t quite deny that they weren’t just as curious. The driver was trying to communicate with Max on the ground, throwing helpless glances around him. Trying to get some help from someone.
Could someone please get a hold of his mother?
Michael was standing behind Max’s crumbled figure, his body stiff and his face expressionless. Like a quiet solid support system; literally having Max’s back.
She noticed how her brother heard her approach, almost instinctively, and turned to watch her. She was semi-aware of him reaching out to stop her, but she just pushed his hands away. She felt his hands enclose around her upper arms, starting to pull her backwards, but not before she had seen the still body of the once so lively Labrador on the ground.
Trooper didn’t look hurt at all. Besides some blood visible in his nostrils, he almost looked asleep.
But the way Max was clutching the dog against him, his fingers buried in Trooper’s thick fur, told Liz magnitudes of what was really going on.
Trooper was dead.
Dead.
Dead.
Dead.
Liz took a deep breath.
Michael tugged on her still body and this time she gladly stepped back into her brother’s warm embrace. His arms enveloped her, encasing her in warmth as the heat of his body spread into her back.
Her eyes remained trained on the dog, but as the constant crying from Max softened, her attention drifted from the dead body to the one that was very much alive. The one that was still hurting.
Her hand reached out to touch Max’s shoulder and she felt Michael’s grip loosen around her body as she bent forward.
If Max had felt her touch, he didn’t acknowledge it. His crying resumed, his tears wetting the black fur as his hands convulsively held onto the fur.
So she sank down on her knees, moving up to him. Letting her hand slide down to rest on the ground behind Max’s back, she moved the weight of her body so that her head came down on his shoulder; her cheek pressed against his trembling shoulder.
She had no concept of how long they sat like that. It felt like a long time, waiting for the veterinarian or whoever would come and sort this out, but it was only about ten minutes. In that time, Max’s crying turned into sobs, which then turned into hiccups. In that time, Max straightened, red eyes looking away from Liz’s worried ones as he scanned his surroundings.
“He’s dead,” he whispered.
Liz bit her lip, almost surprised when he finally spoke. “I know.”
“We’re just playing and suddenly he just…took off.”
Liz swallowed and said softly, “Okay.”
“And I tried to get him to stop, but he wouldn’t listen.”
“Yeah,” Liz said quietly, not really knowing what to say.
“Hey sweetie, what’s your name?”
Liz and Max looked up in unison at the owner of the soft voice.
“This is Max,” Liz answered, when Max seemed to have lost his ability to speak.
“Is this your dog?” she wondered and Liz frowned at the woman.
Of course it was Max’s dog. Would he be clutching a strange dog like that?
But before she could open her mouth, Max nodded a reply.
“What’s his name?”
“Trooper,” Max whispered.
“Are you the vet?” Liz asked.
The woman nodded and answered quietly, as if to not disturb Max’s shocked feelings, “Yes, I’m Tracey.” Addressing the shocked boy, Tracey added, “Max, I need to take a look at Trooper.”
Max nodded again and the woman sat down next to the dog. Something told Liz that the vet already knew that Trooper was dead, but Liz could feel Max’s hope, his lingering trust in an adult’s capabilities.
Liz had a more realistic take on the world. As the vet started the search for a pulse and put the earpieces of a stethoscope in her ears, Liz attention was on Max. On how he would react when the optimism and hope would leave him.
It felt like forever while the vet ascertained if the dog was dead before she looked up with an apologetic face that had Max’s tears start anew even before she uttered the words.
“I’m sorry,” Tracey whispered.
Warm tears running down his cheeks, Max nodded his understanding as his eyes closed against the cruel reality.
“Max?!”
At the sound of his mother’s worried voice, his head snapped up, inadvertently pushing Liz away.
With a broken, “Mom,” he stumbled to his feet and buried himself into his mother’s consoling arms.
Liz watched them from her position on the ground, the emotions prickling her heart. Even though Max had just lost his dog, he had more than Liz would ever have. He had a loving mother, who cared about him.
Feeling the ugly sting of jealousy, Liz pushed off the ground and started to brush her shorts off.
In the midst of her tidying herself up, someone took her hand. She looked up at her big brother who was looking at her sadly. “You okay?”
Liz nodded. “Yeah.”
Michael followed Liz’s glance as she looked to her left at the dead dog. She watched the vet put her stethoscope across the back of her neck. Liz’s eyes followed the vet as she went to speak to the driver about the incident and by the time Liz looked back in Max’s direction, he was taken to the car by his mother.
And just like that, Max lost his dog.
------------------------------------------------
The next day“What do you need the money for?” Jeff asked.
“It’s a gift,” Liz answered.
“That’s a lot of money, Elizabeth.”
“I can pay you back later,” Liz said, her lips turning into a tight line of impatience and annoyance.
How come they could always buy her lots of expensive dresses (that she didn’t even like to wear) but when she really asked for something, they wouldn’t let her have it.
“With what?”
“My allowance.”
Her father sighed. “Who’s this gift for?”
Looking down at the floor, Liz answered evasively, “A friend.”
Mr. Parker’s eyebrows rose in mild amusement. “Does this friend of yours have a name?”
Sighing, Liz looked up. “Why can’t you just lend me the money?”
“Because with money comes responsibility. You have to learn how to save your own money and then buy what you want with that money.”
Liz pouted. “But that’s gonna take foooorever.”
“That’s the way it is.”
Liz stomped her feet. “But I need the money now!”
“What’s it for, Elizabeth?”
“Aaargh,” Liz exploded. “Fine! Keep your freaking money.”
Jeff frowned. “Elizabeth. Language.”
Groaning dramatically, Liz stormed off. No way she was telling her father where the money was going. It was not like he was more likely to give her the money if he knew and if he knew he would just be asking even more questions.
Running up the stairs to her room, Liz Parker wished that she was a grown-up and that she was allowed to make her own decisions. That she had her own money and could spend them however she wanted.
If she wanted to buy a dog for Max, she should be able to.
Slamming the door to her room she fell on her bed and screamed into her pillow.
Punching her fists into the soft mattress, she eventually cooled off and spun around. Staring up at the ceiling she vowed to herself that one day she would get Max Evans a dog.
If that was what it took to get the strong, stable, teasing Max back, that was what she would do.
She missed the annoying Max Evans with his drooling, barking dog. The one he’d insisted on taking with him everywhere, even into her bedroom when Gabriela wasn’t watching, so that there was dog saliva and black hair all over her white bedding.
She never wanted to see Max that sad again and she figured the solution was to get him another dog so that things could go back to normal as soon as possible.
Getting up from her bed she pulled out her “To Do”-pad and her favorite red pen. In neat block letters, she wrote;
1. GET NEW DOG FOR JERKFACE
Feeling satisfied that she at least had written it down she found a punch pin and pinned the paper on the notice board over her desk next to the photo of Michael, Max and her posing in front of the Evans’ house. Max was only partly visible (which is why she originally had liked that photo) due to a thick blurred black line coming from the side. Trooper, coming in from left field.
“Bye, Trooper,” Liz whispered.
TBC...