Endless Spiral CC, Mature, Part 13 02/25/2016

This is the place to post all your General Roswell fanfiction. Any Canon fics, which pick up directly from any episode of the show and that focus on Max/Liz, Michael/Maria, Isabel/Alex or Isabel/Jesse, Kyle/Tess, or all the couples together! Rule of Thumb: If Max healed Liz in the Crashdown in September 1999, then your fic belongs here. If it picks up from the show in any way, it belongs here.

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begonia9508
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Re: Endless Spiral CC, Mature, Part 4 06/07/13

Post by begonia9508 »

First, sorry I missed part 3 and about it, the only thing I will add, is that I am really chocked that Liz, Kyle and Maria accepted to take Max's son back to earth and protect him and I wonder if he did it with the knowledge that this kid will remember her, every day that she has to nurse him... and more, that she was the reason why he is born...

Thanks - EVE :mrgreen:
- Les jouissances de l'esprit sont faites pour calmer les orages du coeur!
- On reconnaît le bonheur au bruit qu'il fait quand il s'en va!
- L'amour vous rend aveugle et le mariage vous redonne la vue!
keepsmiling7
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Re: Endless Spiral CC, Mature, Part 4 06/07/13

Post by keepsmiling7 »

Poor Liz.......3 years and the pain hasn't lessened.....
Jack appears to be perfect.......but he isn't Max!
This is a wonderful........endless spiral!
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Re: Endless Spiral CC, Mature, Part 4 06/07/13

Post by saori_1902 »

great chapter !!!!!!! :D
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xilaj
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Re: Endless Spiral CC, Mature, Part 4 06/07/13

Post by xilaj »

is this a moment when things could have changed for Liz, but didn't? Did she find the courage to take another chance, and if so, I've got a new question, what happened to Jack and the possibility of a new start? I'm looking forward to finding out how this damaged, but still hopeful Liz got to be the woman she is in 7 years' time.
I'm also looking forward to the pod squad making their entrance, but I can wait - it's fascinating seeing what happened to the humans. Loving this story, and looking forward to more, Alix
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Part 5

Post by Comet »

5. Adventures in Babysitting



10 years after The Departure



When I was 15 years old, I was shot; I almost died.



By the time I was 16, I had been in jail, kidnapped, broken into a top-secret government facility, hunted by the FBI and screwed over by destiny.



At 17 years old, I had helped cover up a murder, changed the future of the world, destroyed an evil alien husk harvest, disappeared into nothingness, and had my heart disintegrated into so many little pieces, breathing became a challenge of epic proportions.



At 17, I learned that love really is more trouble than it’s worth, I learned that friendships die and I learned that as much I tried to make things right…they never would be.



At 17…Janis Joplin had nothing on me.



So what do you when before the ripe old age of 20, you go through so many things in life, that being ‘normal’ is a completely laughable concept? What do you do when ‘normal’ is something that fulfills the ‘out of reach’ criteria, and then some? I won’t lie. In my darkest moments, in the lowest of days, when the sheer pain of it all reached points that were too much to bear…that razor edge often came within a millimeter of my wrists.



Who would have thought it?



Liz Parker, all around girl next door, one time straight A student and perfect daughter secretly wanted to slash her wrists and bleed herself dry.



I tell you, it seemed like a smart idea at the time. So why didn’t I do it? Later on, I lived through times that made running from the FBI seem like a slow day at the CrashDown. Two quick cuts and all the torture and the murder and the mayhem and ruined lives need not happened.



Because at 18, I was suddenly on. There is no other way to describe it. I found out later that the Granolith had spoken, and the smallest of small town girls was suddenly the channel for the embodiment of power in the Universe, and didn’t have much choice about it. Pretty lofty qualifications, and there I was, clueless, struggling to put my life back together, trying to keep myself and those I cared about alive and safe, and just to make things interesting, trying to get into a decent college too. I used to dream of Harvard, but ‘decent’ was the highest I was aiming for then, with ‘good’ a stretch. Goes to show you, having the ability to destroy whole star systems doesn’t really mean shit. Of course I didn’t know that at the time. But where was I?



Right.



At 18, the Granolith decided to ‘call’ on me for the first time.



I was out for three days.



A coma, they said.



Somehow, when you’re getting your insides turned dissected, and you have to defend every choice you have ever made to an alien entity that decides to move into your brain, the term ‘coma’ loses much of its meaning.



Fast forward a couple of months. I made it into college. The University of Chicago decided to give the damaged goods that was me a shot, softened by the one-two shots of disaster that was the death of a best friend and a boyfriend in such a short amount of time. I wasn’t too disappointed. I had always liked Chicago better than Boston anyway and against all odds, I was feeling pretty good. I hadn’t had an episode in 7 weeks. Maria’s string of performances around the state, in combination with a grueling SAT study regimen that seriously threatened our friendship and respective sanity (proving its worth when each of us managed scores in the 88th percentile and above), had garnered enough attention to get her into NYU. Kyle was letting loose with those perfect spiral passes, the ones that seemed to go on forever and forever, and the University of Texas had taken notice. Alex’s image only haunted me twice a week instead of it’s usual 24/7. I had finally shaken the feeling that we were being watched, and the Sheriff reported that the FBI had ceased contact with him. The fates appeared to be done kicking us around.



Then in the middle of class, the world spun.



And it bled.



I woke up two hours later.



The irony of it all is that when I gain consciousness, I still expected to see concerned amber eyes, still expected to feel that healing touch. Instead, what I got was a bright green gaze, and yet another dark haired mystery man who had come to my rescue, and despite my most determined efforts…he just wouldn’t go away. Given how that relationship eventually turned out, I probably should have tried harder to get him to stay away from me. Perhaps I wouldn’t be as damaged then. The memory of Jack's green eyes aside, my current situation just hammers home the fact that my most determined efforts don’t really seem to count for much. And this is infinitely sad, because I am actually a very accomplished woman.



Really.



I am.



You don’t survive an ipiska infestation while dragging along an unwilling and unstable friend who should be dead if you’re just a waste of space after all. The fact that I am accomplished in things no one else on Earth is, is beside the point.



This, however, does not explain why I am unable to get a starving five year old to eat. I don’t understand it. Everyone else managed to get him to! Even Kyle, and that’s saying something. He can’t even stay in the same room as the Target for more than 10 minutes, but that 10 minutes was enough for the child to gulp enough down to prevent him from starvation.



I will never live it down if the kid dies on my watch.



So I continue to cut up the perfectly sautéed camberlain slivers for him, dipping them in just the right amount of chutney and then spearing it all on a fork, holding it up for his inspection. His eyes watch my every move. I lift the portion to my mouth and chew slowly. I swallow.



I put the fork down by his hand.



He doesn’t move an inch.



I growl in frustration and then two seconds later, I’m watching in horror as the Target’s big eyes start to fill with tears.



I can’t do this. I left my childhood behind so fast, way before I even had the chance to really appreciate it. I don’t remember what to do for him. And the sad thing is that I used to love kids. Used to know exactly what food to give them, what toy to bring to make the fighting stop, what story to tell to grab their imagination.



Used to being the operative word here.



Unconsciously, I flick a finger towards the walls, falling back into my habit of creating a light show to soothe myself when frazzled. The colors fluctuate wildly from one to another, swirling and shimmering into the next in silent fluidity; it is something I can control, something I have the final say on.



So unlike anything else in my life.



Out of the corner of my eye, I see that the Target has stopped sniffling. Apparently transfixed by my mastery of bending light waves, his eyes grow wide and fill with simple, innocent wonder, mouth falling open as I manipulate each wavelength into lower and higher frequencies. On a hunch, and keeping my voice light and soft, I start explaining to him what I’m doing, speaking to him in Antarian again. He is startled at first, but then he relaxes, seemingly comforted by the sound of a familiar language and appears to be listening closely.



Soon enough, he reaches for the food, not bothering with the fork and I quickly look away, lest my watching causes him to shy away from the painstakingly prepared meal. Maria ported to three different specialty food stores for those camberlains. Alex got the chance to flex his rarely used intergalactic cooking skills. Kyle…well…he’s stopped making the suggestion of feeding the kid cold oatmeal and water. It’s more than I could have hoped for, and I’m not about to mess it all up by interrupting the light show, although I’ve long since finished my explanation.



In short order, he’s done and I push away my irritation at the fact that although he was CLEARLY starving, he still waited this long to eat. I’m watching him from the corner of my eye as he licks his fingers clean and I note that he’s still in the same clothes as he was when we first took him. He’s probably going to need a bath soon. I sigh and rub my eyes fiercely, taking care to continue the play of light. I wonder who’s got next shift with the target. It’s a unanimous decision for Vittorio to have as little as possible to do with him but I have a strong suspicion that none of the others have ever given a kid a bath before. Lord knows, I haven’t.



Acquiring those skills kind of fell off my list of priorities, because oh you know…I was busy trying not to get killed.



He is still enthralled by my lightshow, and I take the opportunity to study him hungrily, searching for traces of his parents in the soft planes of his face, in the shape of his eyes, the set of his mouth. I swallow hard as I find all that and more, and correspondingly, my light show goes erratic. The boy isn’t looking at me, but he frowns and for a moment, looks so much like Tess that my work almost sputters to a stop. The next moment, he places his little hand on mine, and with a speed that sends my head spinning, the presence in my head hums in approval at the contact with someone of the royal line, and the lightshow is restored, only he is in control of what power I allow him to have now. I say nothing, letting him shape the power I am supplying as he wishes, and note the difference between the sharp, cutting peaks of my display and the cheerful waves of his.



It’s obvious he’s used to being around power of such magnitude. Whenever I connect to one of the others, they describe it as something that is so fathomless, it is almost painful to look at, and terrifying to link to, and yet this boy appears completely at home with it. What does that mean then? Has his father finally tapped into his seal, does he use the granolith, and is that why the boy seems to recognize, if not me, then the power behind me?



I’m so absorbed in my musings, it takes me a few moments to realize he’s stopped his play and is instead staring me, with a gaze so serious and solemn, it should belong on a face ten times his age.



“ I want to see my Daddy.” He speaks in High Antarian, the language of the court, more evidence of who he is. I know this is the first time he’s actually spoken, I know he hasn’t said a word to any of the others. Why do I get to deal with all the fun stuff? “ Please,” He adds uncertainly, the look on his face suggesting that he is as surprised as I am by the conversation he’s struck up.



I cannot meet his eyes for long, and I swallow and then busy myself with stacking the dirty dishes together.



“ He’s not here right now, your highness. You’ll see him soon,” I say, repeating my earlier words, but switching to the more formal, stylized version of his language as well. I don’t want to lie, and decide that being straightforward is the only way through this. Kids are just mini-version of people, aren’t they? I can deal with that, especially if I pretend that I never knew his parents at all. Maybe I never did.



“ Why did you take me?”



“ You weren’t safe where you were.”



“ Daddy always makes sure of that. He says no one would be able to hurt me there, because no one can get in.”



A trickle of pity and envy bleeds through me, because I remember that point in my life, where an adult’s word was law, and it was all you needed to know that something was absolutely right. Gently, I try to show him that this isn’t the case. “ We got in, your highness.”



He looks fearful for an instant and somehow I know that he’s thinking that since his father was wrong about no one being able to get in, could he be wrong about him getting hurt as well? Inexplicably, I feel like I have to reassure him. I can do this well enough, since I am still ignoring that he is their son. A calm target is always much easier to deal with than one in the throes of panic, after all.



“We’re not going to hurt you. We took you, because you’re safer here, with us, than with your family right now. You’ll go back to them when it’s safe.”



He stares at me for a long time, and my heart beats unsteadily as eyes so similar to the pair that have haunted me for years gaze unflinchingly into mine. Then finally, he nods.



“ I believe you,” He announces.



I blink.



“ I…well. That’s good, your highness.”



“ Can I…can I let them know I’m all right? Daddy…he doesn’t say it, but he worries about me. All the time. I told him I can take care of myself, but he’s going to be sad about this. Really, really sad.”



Several things about these statements leap out at me. Number one, the boy is incredibly perceptive, and I’m not sure it doesn’t have anything to do with alien powers. Number two, he’s five years old-how in the world does he harbor the illusion he can take care of himself? And number three, to say his father will be ‘sad’ is an understatement.



We have been monitoring the news in the Whirlwind Galaxy very closely since we acquired the boy, and the official news is that the Royal House of Antar is on high alert and increased security to their maximum capabilities due to an unspecified breach-the unofficial word is that Zan’ren-ahti is ready to unleash hell on whoever has stolen from him (-they haven’t revealed that the heir is missing, which is a smart move, for once), and is willing to tear apart the five planets to do so.



No one suspects that the heir could be on Earth.



Which is good news for us.



I don’t get the chance to respond however, because the boy keeps on talking in his steady, serious way.



“And Uncle Michael’s going to be really mad, and will start yelling at Daddy, who’ll yell back, and then Aunt Izzy will yell at them both.” His little face crumples a bit, while I struggle with the pictures that his words provide me. Evidently, the dynamic between the three hasn’t changed that much, and a part of me is glad. The parts of me grounded in the present are soaking up everything he has to say, and tellingly, he makes no mention of his mother, as he finishes his thoughts. “I don’t like it when they yell,”



Serious eyes lock with mine once more. “ So can I? Can I let them know I’m all right?”



I swallow hard, because my mission of trying to keep from seeing him as anything other than their son has just been blown to smithereens. I manage to nod and say, “ I’ll see what I can do your highness.”



The boy's eyes lighten a bit, and a spark of gratitude replaces the fear. “ Thank you.”



The exact opposite happens to me, as my need to flee grows with every passing minute. In an effort to mask this, I nod and am all business again a moment later. “ So. Do you have showers in Antar?”



“ No. Aunt Izzy talks about them all the time though. She says they’re the best things ever, but I like bath time.”



“ I’ll let you judge after you’ve had your first shower. Follow me.”



*^*I don’t suppose any of you want to come in here and help?*^*



I send the thought out with little hope of getting an affirmative reply, having detected the other three listening in outside the door as soon as they had felt an unfamiliar person using powers in the compound. I can almost see Maria rolling her eyes as she responds.



~*~You must be joking. I was just coming to check that his little highness hadn’t fried you. Things never end well when you’re in contact with that family.~*~



*^*He’s five years old, Maria. I think I can handle him.*^*



~*~He’s Zan’ren-ahti’s heir. Who knows what Junior is capable of.~*~



*^*You’re really not coming in here to help are you? Alex? Kyle?*^*



~`~Ah, I think you can handle that one, Liz. Kudos for the high antarian though. Your accent is flawless.~`~



*`*And I’m heading out. Taking the mustang to get detailed. *`*



*^*You did that last week, Kyle! Hello? Guys?...You all suck.*^*




I come back to myself to a bewildering sight. The boy is in the shower all right, but he’s also still in all his clothes. Which are soaking wet. And it looks like he’s only managed to work the cold-water taps. I groan and hurry forward. Well. At least now I can add ‘ baby-sitting a crown prince’ to the list of my achievements.



When did this become my life?



FIN.
Last edited by Comet on Thu Feb 04, 2016 4:02 pm, edited 2 times in total.
xilaj
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Re: Endless Spiral CC, Mature, Part 5 06/14/13

Post by xilaj »

Poor Liz, she's trying to hard to keep her distance from 'the target', but he's crumbling her walls with his innocence. I would really like to know what they're saving him from and whose purpose are they serving? The granolith's, Vittorio's? I would love to know how the granolith fits into this. It's 'moved into Liz's brain', but it seems that Max can also tap into its power through the seal, and his son is familiar with it too. Hah. There are some very complicated relationships here!
The target - sometime Liz and the others will have to come to terms with this little boy and what he means to them. When will they cave and start to use his name? Love the glimpse of the pod squad, still true to their characters and it's interesting that this little boy never asks for his Mommy. What is the state of play between Zan'ren-ahti (Max?) and Tess? I'm fascinated by the glimpses you give us of Liz's past in this update and can't wait to find out more about how she and the other humans got to this point in their lives. Looking forward to more, hope you can come back soon, Alix
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Re: Endless Spiral CC, Mature, Part 5 06/14/13

Post by keepsmiling7 »

This story has really captured my attention....
So many questions unanswered........5 year old prince?
Good to hear Michael and Isabel haven't changed. Like xilaj, I have wondered about Tess and no mention of her.
LOL......cold shower with clothes on.....
Thanks you for the great update,
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Re: Endless Spiral CC, Mature, Part 5 06/14/13

Post by saori_1902 »

omg, poor Liz, how is possible what chaos alien may never leave her alone. :( I can not wait for another chapter. Great chapter. :mrgreen:
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Re: Endless Spiral CC, Mature, Part 5 06/14/13

Post by begonia9508 »

You wrote:

The boy is in the shower all right, but he’s also still in all his clothes. Which are soaking wet.

Really good, so it save times for Liz, wash too in one, boy and clothes... :lol: Did Max asked Liz, to take care of his heir? Because it seems to me that Liz wan't really pleased to have this duty...

Great part and thansk! EVE :mrgreen:
- Les jouissances de l'esprit sont faites pour calmer les orages du coeur!
- On reconnaît le bonheur au bruit qu'il fait quand il s'en va!
- L'amour vous rend aveugle et le mariage vous redonne la vue!
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Part 6 06/20/13

Post by Comet »

6. Identity

Fall 2006- 5 years after The Departure

When Kyle knocked on the door of…Alex’s room, he stood outside for almost a full minute before he heard the man inside invite him in. He didn’t have to be an empath to hear the reluctance in the other man’s voice, but as soon as the door opened and the room’s occupant saw who it was, he could almost see the tension drain from Alex’s shoulders. Inwardly, Kyle sighed. It looked like Liz hadn’t been exaggerating at just how much of a failure their earlier meeting with him had been. The girls had been too thrilled at having their best friend back to realize that he wasn’t their best friend, not really anyway.


Because sitting in front of him WAS Alex Whitman.


And yet he wasn’t.


Kyle had become extremely skilled at reading people, and while he and Alex had only really started becoming close shortly before he…left, he could still pick out a multitude of differences that would have marked this man a stranger. It was in the way he held himself, the casual way he was sitting and yet still paying attention to Kyle’s every move. It was in the confident set of his shoulders, squared, and not the relaxed slouch their Alex preferred. And perhaps, mostly, it was in the eyes; Alex Whitman’s eyes had been ever open, and friendly. This man before him was wary, and there was a definite somberness that had never been in the eyes of the teenager he had known. If the girls had missed that…well. He held back a sigh. He wasn’t surprised that their talk had gone so badly then.


“ Hey.” Kyle greeted, aware that he had been staring for longer than was polite. “ How are…are you doing all right?”


A disbelieving snort was his response and Kyle bit back a smirk, relaxing enough to lean back against the door. That was another thing that was different about this Alex; much less goofiness, a lot more snark, but this was probably a reaction to the absurd situation they found themselves in more than anything else.


“ I’ve just found out that I’ve been dead for five years, and then miraculously brought back to life by combining little bits of essence stolen from other versions of me from about a thousand parallel universes. I’m doing absolutely fantastic.”


Kyle sighed out loud this time, and wondered again at what had become of his life now that statements like that only stopped him for a second instead of sending him running for a nut house. He met Alex’s blue eyes and grimaced.


“ Yeah. Bad question.”


Silence fell over the two men, broken only by the sounds of Alex throwing and catching the baseball methodically. Kyle’s eyes followed its motions.


“ Do you want to-”


“ Talk about it?” Alex finished for him. He shot Kyle a dry look. “ I don’t remember you ever being big into discussing feelings, Valenti.”


Kyle blinked and couldn’t stop his next words. “ So you do remember?”


Alex looked away from him and concentrated on throwing his ball. “ I never said I didn’t.”


“ Then why didn’t you tell them that?


“ You mean before or after Maria threw herself sobbing into my arms? Or while Liz was looking at me like she’d twirl on her head and do the hokey pokey for me if I asked her to?” The darker haired man shook his head. “ Just because I remember, doesn’t mean I am who they think I am.”


“ And who are you?” Kyle watched as his words drew forth a wince from the other man. Alex finally stopped his game and rested the ball on the desk, eyes fixed intently on the worn white ball.


“ I don’t know.”


“ Alex-”


“ I am NOT Alex!”


It was a cry of anger, of fear, and Kyle almost brought up his shield in alarm as Alex jack-knifed off his chair and shoved everything off the desk with a roar, the walls shaking around them with the might of his powers. The temper seemed to pass quickly though, and Alex braced his palms on the desk and kept his head down, breathing in deeply, arms trembling with the effort of keeping his new calm. Kyle sent a quick prayer to Buddha above and decided to press his luck. He really WAS going to have to learn how to say no to Liz and Maria one of these days. Things never worked out too well for him when he got drawn into one of their cockamamie schemes. Case in point: confronting a newly reincarnated version of their dead best friend, who was possibly unstable and was chock full of martian powers he probably didn’t have any control over to boot.


He pressed on anyway.


“ Who are you then?”


Alex went still and Kyle had to strain to catch his low reply.


“ I don’t know.” He turned, and leaned against the edge of the desk, gaze fixed resolutely to the carpet. “ I have…all these memories. I keep seeing people’s faces, some I know, some I don’t, I keeping remembering things that I’ve never done before, places I’ve never been. I keep seeing these lives that I lived…and they are mine, but at the same time, they’re…not.”


When he brought his gaze to meet Kyle’s, the shorter man imagined that that is what he, Maria and Liz must look like after waking from nightmares that were infinitely worse that just nightmares, because they were memories of actual, terrible things. Alex’s eyes were haunted and bleak, with a terrifying weariness, a longing to be free. He swallowed, and opened his mouth, unsure what he was going to say, but then he didn’t have to, because Alex was still talking.


“ And I’m…I don’t know who I am. Or what I am. I mean…I was dead, wasn’t I? I wasn’t here, I stopped breathing, you all buried my body. I saw it. And now I’m back, and I can do things I couldn’t before…but was I even here before? Am I even a real person, Kyle, because I’m made up of so many different pieces?” He drew in a shaky breath. “ Am I even supposed to be here? Am I supposed to be alive? I’m…I’m unnatural.”


When Alex Whitman finally looked him in the eye, Kyle was glad Maria and Liz weren’t in here for this. Because that look in his eyes, he knew would have set Maria into another sob fest and Liz into another one of her broody, depressive moods where the guilt was so palpable you could almost choke on it. Hell, even he felt teary and he was the man of the house. At least, he was, until Liz went into one of her ultimate-power-in-the-universe trips; at that point, he was QUITE happy to hand over the pants. For now though, he had to pick up the pieces again.


“ You’re not,” He said, and he was surprised by how steady his voice was. Truth resonated in the even timbre, because he believed everything he was saying, believed that it was right that Alex was here, with them, even if he was confused, even if they were all confused. “ You’re not unnatural. What was unnatural was that you were taken away from us. Because that’s not how it was supposed to go. And now,”


Surprise was clear as day in Alex’s eyes, but the tension in his frame seemed to ease a bit again.


“ And now...what?” He asked of Kyle.


Kyle shrugged.


“ Now…well. You can be whoever you want to be. Whether that’s Alex Whitman, or someone else completely, that’s up to you. It’s your life, you’re breathing, you’re here.” He paused, to make sure he had the other man’s attention. “ But while you’re figuring things out, you have to know that we are here for you too. Whoever you choose to be.”


“ Even if it’s not Alex Whitman?”


“ Even if it’s not Alex Whitman.”


They stared at each other for a long time, before a muffled thump outside the door alerted them to the fact that the female contingent of the house was about, and Kyle winced and then looked quickly at Alex to make sure he wasn’t pissed that the girls had most likely been eavesdropping. He almost wilted with relief at the exasperated look on the taller man’s face, because behind that, there was a grudging affection too. In the next moment, he exchanged long-suffering looks with Alex.


“ I’m going to head them off. Maybe convince them that using me as target practice will be a fun way to spend their afternoon.”


Alex almost cracked a grin at that one.


“ I’ll see you later.”


Kyle turned and made to open the door when Alex spoke.


“ Kyle?”


Kyle paused and glanced over his shoulder. “ Yeah?”


“ …Thanks.”


“ What are friends for?”


Kyle left the room then, shutting the door quietly behind him. Once out, he rubbed a tired hand over his face, and ambled down the hallway. Maybe he could grab a sandwich before going to yell at Liz and Maria. They had promised him privacy goddamnit, how was he supposed to keep a manly image intact if they went around eavesdropping on him? It was just wrong!


He was distracted enough to not notice the rapidly approaching body until the last second, but he still managed to spin quickly to the right of and behind whoever had rushed him, threading his arms quickly around theirs and effectively pinioning them. He was about to gloat when another person leaped at him from behind and jumped on his back, knocking the breath out of him, surprising him enough that his captive was able to break his hold and spin around to face him too. Kyle briefly registered Liz’s dark brown eyes, shiny with tears, before she engulfed him in a big hug. From the long blonde strands that were currently in his face, he gathered that the hellion who’d attacked him from behind damnit, was Maria. From the shudders that he felt, they were both crying.


“ Kyle,” Liz started, from her position buried in his chest.


“ Thank you,” Maria finished for her, hugging him from behind.


Instant warmth spread through him, and for a few, precious moments, he felt like everything was all right with the world, they were safe, normal, and everything would work out in the end.


“ You’re welcome.”


FIN
Last edited by Comet on Sun Jan 31, 2016 3:48 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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