Deeper Than The Night (UC, Mi/L, Mature) [COMPLETE]

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Deeper Than The Night (UC, Mi/L, Mature) [COMPLETE]

Post by Roswell4ever1 » Wed Jun 15, 2005 12:43 pm

Title: Deeper Than The Night
Part: One
Author: Ann
Rating: Mature
Disclaimer: I own nothing!
Warnings: Child abuse.
Spoilers: None


Part One: Wanting Something Better


Life isn’t just fun and games. It’s adventure and consequence. It’s love and pain. It’s day and it’s night. Our lives depend on the choices we make. Sometimes they’re wrong and lead us to nothing but heartache. Other times, they’re the best decisions we’ve ever made and everything’s perfect. Usually though, they’re a combination of the two. A bittersweet mix of emotions that can throw us for a loop so quickly that it’s terrifying. I’ve never experienced the perfect. Never had a chance. Every time I get even remotely close, the walls crumble around me and by the time I know what’s going on, it’s too late to change it. So I settle. I fight to find my way to the bittersweet where everything is right but completely wrong at the same time and I settle. But I’m tired of settling. I’ve done it too damn long. For once in my life, I want the perfect. But I know better. For me, perfect doesn’t exist. It’s just a word designed to make those of us who will never have it suffer. And even though I know it’s something I’ll never have, I can’t help but wish for a modicum of something else. Something better.

He tucked the small notebook into the back of his pants, the waistband holding it in place, before covering it with his shirt. He had never really written down his feelings before today and didn’t want to take the chance of anyone finding it. He didn’t want anyone knowing what was going on inside his head. Didn’t want anyone getting that close. He had built the stonewall around his heart years ago and no one had ever broken through it. Or even cracked it for that matter. Not even Max and Isabel, who were like his brother and sister. Hell, they really never even tried. And he liked it that way. If they didn’t get too close, they couldn’t hurt him. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust Max and Isabel. It was that he didn’t trust anyone. From the time he was six years old and placed in the foster home he was now living in, he was forced to grow up so fast that trust was never given a chance to build. So instead of letting people in, he tried to flood them out with harsh words and intimidating looks. And it worked. Even as close as Max and Isabel were to him, they knew when to back down and walk away. But it was killing him a little more with each day that went by. Michael Guerin was dying. Not of some horrible disease, but of his own will.

Letting out a deep breath, he opened his bedroom door and found himself flying across the room and into the wall. His right eye was swelling shut from the blow it had just taken by the hand of his foster father Hank.

“You dirty little bastard!” Hank yelled as he walked over and started kicking Michael in the stomach, arms and chest. “How many times” kick “do I have” kick “to tell you” kick “that I expect” kick “my dinner ready” kick “when I get home?” kick

Hank reached down and grabbed him by the hair, yanking him up off the floor. “Get your good for nothin’ ass in that kitchen and fix me something to eat” he hissed as he threw him through the doorway and into the hall, where he landed on his back. Wincing at the pain, Michael got up and walked to the kitchen. Throwing a pan on the stove, he reached into the cabinet and pulled out a can of Spaghetti and Meatballs and reached for the can opener. He let out a hiss of pain when his right hand came in contact with the drawer, his arm obviously broken. Using the other hand, he pulled the can opener out and used his bad hand to hold the apparatus while the good one turned it, cutting through the metal. He would have used his powers if that prick wasn’t standing over him. But it was a chance he couldn’t take. Pouring the contents into the small metal pan, he turned on the burner and grabbed a spoon, stirring occasionally.

He thought back to the words he had written just minutes before. Something better. There has to be something better. There has to be something better. He repeated to himself as he continued to stir. One would think that after eleven years of constant abuse, he would be used to it by now. But it’s something you never get used to. And no one should have to. His eyes burned, the unshed tears threatening to spill out. But he fought it. He wouldn’t do that. He wouldn’t let that bastard see him crying. He refused. So he did what he always did. He forced the tears back in and closed himself off.

Finishing the food, he poured it into a bowl and dropped it and a beer on the table in front of Hank. Turning, he stormed to the door.

“Hey, where do you think you’re going?” Hank asked, still sitting in the recliner watching Wheel Of Fortune.

“Out!” Michael said, slamming the door behind him. He had to get the hell away from there. Even if it was just for a few hours. He wished he could just crawl into a hole and bury himself. Maybe then he wouldn’t have to deal with Hank anymore. But like the perfect life he wanted, he knew it wouldn’t happen. Having nowhere else to go, he walked to the Crashdown. He wasn’t scheduled to work until tomorrow but at least it would be a reprieve from life. Reaching his hand up, he was able to use his powers to make the swelling and discoloration on his eye go away but he didn’t have the strength to fix his arm or ribs. He would have to let Max do it later.

Walking in the back door, Michael walked to his locker and put on his apron, fully expecting Mr. Parker to make him clock out as soon as he realized he was there.

“Oh Michael. Boy am I glad you’re here today.” Mr. Parker said as he stepped into the employee lounge. “Jose called in, his little girl’s sick, so we were minus a cook. You can go on and get started.” He smiled. Michael had become quite the workaholic the past few months which was something Jeff could appreciate considering he too, was addicted to work. Michael nodded and walked over to the grill.

A few hours had gone by and Michael was feeling more at ease. At least if he got miffed, he could just take it out on a hamburger and not much was lost. It had been difficult working one handed, but he was managing. Jeff was a bit concerned though. Michael was acting weirder than usual. He wouldn’t say a word, even to tell the waitresses to move their asses, which in itself, was alarming. But that wasn’t all that he noticed. He was walking strangely, barely breathing and only using one arm. He didn’t know what was going on, but he knew he didn’t like it. He also knew that confronting Michael wouldn’t get him anywhere. Talking to that boy was like talking to a pylon. Shaking his head, he decided to just let it go. For now anyway. That worked until about twenty minutes later when Michael evidentially forgot about his arm injury and attempted to pick up a thirty pound bottle of cooking oil. Yelling out in pain, the bottle went crashing to the floor as Michael doubled over, gripping his arm.

Jeff ran over to where Michael was and got him back to a standing position. “What’s wrong with your arm son?”

“Nothing. I’m fine.” Michael said quietly as he turned to face the grill again.

“Come on Michael. I know better. I saw what just happened. So tell me what happened to your arm.” Jeff said as he carefully turned Michael to face him and examined his arm. It was clearly broken, there was no doubt about that. But how?

“I said nothing ok?” Michael spat as he yanked his arm away, painfully. He didn’t like feeling cornered, and right now, that’s exactly how he felt.

“Tell you what Michael. You tell me how you broke your arm and we’ll forget about what happened here. But if you don’t…”

“You’ll what? You’ll hit me? Go ahead. Take your best fuckin shot!” Michael yelled.

Jeff was floored. “I was just going to say that if you don’t tell me, I can’t help you. Why would I hit you?”

“Why not?”

Was that what was going on with him? Someone was beating on him? But until today, there were no signs of it. No marks. But then again, most abusers make sure to hit where the marks can’t be seen.

“Who’s hitting you Michael?” Jeff asked, obvious concern in his eyes. Again, Michael felt cornered. He wanted to tell someone about it, but he couldn’t. Not because he was trying to protect Hank. Far from it. No, it was because he was ashamed. Ashamed that anyone could do this to him. But he didn’t want pity. He just wanted to be left the hell alone.

“No one hit me ok?” Michael hissed. “Look, you want me to work today or not? Cause I sure as hell didn’t come here for an interrogation.” Michael said.

“No. I want you to go in back and get some rest. You look like you haven’t slept in a month.”

“Great. Now you’re criticizing how I look. Anything else about me you’d like to attack?” Michael yelled.

“Michael, he’s just trying to help.”

Michael turned his head to see Liz standing in the doorway looking at him, her face mirroring her dads.

“Just what I fucking need. It wasn’t enough to have one of you on my case. No, I get two. I’m out of here!” Michael said letting out a deep breath and stalking out the door.

Jeff looked at Liz. “Do you know who’s doing this to him Liz?”

“No. But I going to find out.” She responded.

“I don’t want you getting near that man Liz. If it is him, he’s obviously dangerous. There’s no telling what he would do.” Jeff said, pulling Liz to him in a fatherly hug.

“I don’t plan to get close to him dad. I have another plan.”

“Don’t push him too far honey. He’s at his breaking point. If it is his dad, he’s probably been holding it in for years. What happened here to day could just be the tip of the iceberg.”

“I know. I also know that if it is his dad and something doesn’t happen to stop it, the next time could be the last. It could be the one to kill him.” Liz whispered as she broke from Jeff’s embrace and walked out the door. She had to find Michael. Before it was too late.


TBC…
Last edited by Roswell4ever1 on Fri Aug 19, 2005 4:28 pm, edited 3 times in total.
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Post by Roswell4ever1 » Fri Jul 22, 2005 12:10 am

Deeper Than The Night
By Ann
Part: Two
Rating: Mature
Disclaimer: I own nothing!
Warnings: Child abuse.

A/N: Here it is as promised. I want to say a big thank you to everyone for all your feedback and to my wonderful beta Rae!

Part Two: The Fallout

“Michael! Michael wait!” Liz yelled as she ran down the litter-covered street. Roswell was a small town but it wasn’t exactly the cleanest place on earth. He hadn’t made it very far but the sharp stabbing pain in her side let Liz know how out of shape she was. She guessed it was time to start up with the exercise tapes again. Finally catching up with him, she slowed her pace and tried catching her breath.

“Go away Liz.” Michael mumbled as he continued walking. The last thing he wanted right now was company. Just someone else to try taking pity on him. Pity that was uninvited.

“No. Not until you tell me what happened.” She replied, hands on her hips. She looked like a little kid trying to get her way in the candy store.

Michael rolled his eyes. “Why? So you can run back and tell daddy? I don’t think so.”

“So we can help you Michael. Whoever did this to you should be in jail.”

“Just forget it.”

“I can’t just forget it. I don’t just write friends off like that.”

Seething, Michael stopped in his tracks and turned to her.

“News flash here Parker. We are not friends. The only reason you even really know who I am is because of Maxwell so drop the bullshit friends line and go back to the loudmouth and the computer geek. I don’t need any damn friends!” he hissed as he started walking again.

“Oh really. So what is it that you do need then?”

“To be left the hell alone!”

“And you think you’re gonna get that in a house where your dad beats on you?” She hadn’t meant to go that far but he could be so frustrating.

“You don’t know a damn thing about me so don’t pretend you do.” He growled, neither confirming nor denying the fact that it was Hank that had done it.
.
“I know you don’t deserve what’s happening to you Michael. I know you don’t like it.”

“Oh well, aren’t you just a wealth of information? Tell me this Liz, do you get off on acting like little miss protector?”

“You think I like seeing you like this?” she asked, pissed that he would even insinuate it.

“Yeah I do. I think it makes you feel like maybe your boring little life isn’t so bad. Go home Parker. Find another damn charity case.”

“You know what? Screw you Michael! I came here to try to help. I’m not your enemy.”

“I don’t want your help. I just want to be left alone. Why can’t you get that through your head?”

“Because I don’t believe that. There’s no one in your situation that doesn’t want some kind of help.” She said, resting her hand on his arm. He pulled it back like it was on fire, flinching at the sharp pain that coursed through it.

“Well apparently there is.” He hissed through gritted teeth.

She looked and realized he was headed toward the trailer park. “Where are you going?

“Home. Where I can be the hell away from you.”

“Why are you doing this to yourself?”

“Oh so now I’m doing it to myself?” he asked, chuckling.

“That’s not what I meant Michael.”

“I’m not as smart as you Parker. If you can’t say what you mean then keep your damn mouth shut.” His patience was wearing thin. Not that he really had any to begin with but it was all he could do to keep from completely exploding on her.

“Why are you letting him win? You know he’ll be there waiting for you.” He had considered that fact but was too pissed to care much.

“At least I’ll be away from you.” He bit.

“But why there? Why are you going back there?”

That was it, what little bit of patience he might have had before was gone. “Because I don’t have anywhere else to go! There are you happy? You solved your little mystery. You’re a regular Nancy fucking Drew! Now get the hell out of my face!”
He stopped walking and threw his head back, covering his face with his hands. The sun had started going down, casting a golden hue around him. If the situation hadn’t been so bad, the sight would have been beautiful.

“Can’t you go to Max and Isabel’s?” Liz asked.

“No!” he said quickly, dropping his hands and looking off down the street.

“They don’t know do they?” she asked, a sadness in her tone. Up until this point, Liz had never known anyone in the situation Michael was in and to say it was heartbreaking would be a vast understatement.

“No they don’t and I’d really like to keep it that way.” He said, his whiskey colored eyes boring into her own.

“I won’t tell them Michael but you can’t go back there.” She said, pointing toward the trailer park.

“Why do you care Parker? We’re not exactly buddies.” He said quietly as he sat down on the curb. It was damp and cold but he lacked the energy to care.

“No, we’re not. You’ve never been willing to give me a chance. But this isn’t about being buddies. What happened was bad enough. You go back there, you may not make it out again. At least not alive. We may not be friends Michael, but I don’t want you dead and I have a feeling that’s what will happen if you walk back through that door.” She sat next to him and looked down at her shoe.

Friends was a concept Michael couldn’t understand. Liz was the kind of person who could make friends with anyone. But they had to be willing to let her in and that was something Michael wasn’t willing to do. It saddened her how much he was willing to push her away even if it meant putting himself back in danger. She had to find a way to get through to him but how?

“You need to get out of there Michael. There are people who can help.”

“Nobody gives a shit Liz.” He mumbled.

“I give a shit!” she hollered as she stood back up, Michael looking at her confused.

“Why?”

“I really don’t know. You can try to push me away Michael. You can yell and act like a jerk all you want. But it’s not gonna work on me because for some reason, far beyond my comprehension, I care about you. So fight me all you want, but you’re fighting a losing battle.” She paused for a minute, taking a deep breath. “Why can’t you see that what he’s doing to you is abuse?” She wiped a tear from her cheek and looked at him just in time to catch him doing the same.

“Good job Liz. He’s already upset and you go and yell at him.” She scolded herself as she sat back beside him, reaching her hand out and slowly putting it on his shoulder. She didn’t know how he would react to her touching him and the last thing she wanted to do was upset him more. When he didn’t fight it, she carefully pulled him to her, his head resting on her shoulder. She could feel him trying to hold it in, trying to be strong. Always the soldier. But having done it so many times herself, she knew that was the worst thing he could do. It would just continue to eat at him until nothing remained.

“Let it out Michael.” She said quietly, her hand moving up to move the hair out of his face. “Just let it out.”

As much as he wanted to, he couldn’t keep the tears in anymore. They started to fall as the sobs wracked his body. For the next twenty minutes they cried together under the street light. When he started to calm down some, Liz stood up and reached for his hands, lifting him off the ground.

“Come on.” She said quietly.

“Where?” he asked, wiping the remaining tears from his face.

“Somewhere safe.” Was all she would say. Michael knew where they were going and under normal circumstances would have fought her on it. But he didn’t have any fight left in him, so he followed. It was just a matter of minutes before they walked back through the back door of the Crashdown, Liz’s hand still firmly holding his. They hadn’t been in the building two seconds before Jeff came running over to them, looking at Michael then at Liz, a silent agreement having been made.

Jeff looked back at Michael who appeared to be almost asleep in the doorway. He wasn’t surprised. The day he had would have been enough to knock anyone out. “Why don’t you take him upstairs so he can get some rest?”

Liz nodded and started up the stairs, Michael right behind her. “Michael.” Jeff said. Michael turned his head and looked into the older man’s face. “We’re here to help son. If you’ll let us.” Michael stood there a minute before continuing up the stairs. Jeff shook his head and walked back toward the kitchen, hoping Michael would let them help.

Liz took Michael into the spare bedroom and got the bed ready for him to lie down. Michael had found a chair in the corner of the room and walked over, sitting down and looking anywhere but at Liz. He was too embarrassed about crying in front of her to look at her. He didn’t like to show his emotions but she somehow got it out of him and he didn’t know what to think about it.

Liz finished making the bed and walked over to him, kneeling in front of the chair.

“You have nothing to be ashamed of Michael. Crying doesn’t make you weak. It makes you human. And regardless of what your blood says, you’re very human.” She knew he wasn’t going to answer her, but she had to try anyway. Standing back up, she reached for him and helped him to the bed.

“Get some sleep.” She told him as she headed to the door.

“Liz.” His voice was strained and quiet but she was still able to hear it. Once she turned to him, Michael just looked at her, eyebrows furrowed, and scratched his eyebrow. It wasn’t a verbal thank you, but Liz got the message anyway. Smiling, she walked out of the room, leaving him to get some rest.

Michael lay down and turned off the lamp. He knew she wanted to help him. He also knew that if he stayed there, Hank would probably find him and anyone trying to help him could get hurt. Not that he gave a shit about Michael, because he didn’t. No, he just wanted that monthly check that he would only get as long as Michael was with him. Besides, he could take care of himself. He didn’t need anyone waiting on him or feeling sorry for him.

He would stay tonight but tomorrow he was leaving. Leaving Liz’s house, leaving Hank, leaving the feeling of helplessness. Tomorrow Michael Guerin was leaving Roswell.

TBC…
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Post by Roswell4ever1 » Fri Aug 19, 2005 4:28 pm

Deeper Than The Night
Part: Three
By: Ann
Rating: Mature
Disclaimer: I own nothing!


A/N: Alright peeps, this is it. The last part in this fic. I know, it was short. But I didn’t intend for it to be a long one and I’m trying to write three others. So, I hope you enjoy!

Part Three: Acceptance

5:30 A.M. The birds were beginning to sing and the sun was shining in the window, leaving a golden hue over the bedspread. Michael lay in the bed feeling as if he had just fallen asleep. When in reality, he hadn’t slept at all. He kept thinking about how his life had turned to hell and how before now, there didn’t seem to be anything he could do about it. But he was tired. Tired of not having any control over his life. Tired of having to hide in the shadows. But most of all he was tired of feeling alone. Granted, he always had Max and Isabel but they were nothing like him. They wouldn’t be. They had the perfect parents, the perfect house, the perfect country club lifestyle. He had a trailer and a man who beat on him. Hell of a comparison.

He was thankful that Liz had kept him from going back there last night but it was only a temporary fix. He had to do something more permanent and it had to be done in a way where Hank couldn’t stop him. The only way for him to finally be free of him was to leave. He’d spent the night weighing the pro’s and con’s of him leaving. It turned out to be a list of about 500 to 0. The decision was made. Today he was leaving.

Knowing that if he wasted anymore time, Liz would wake up and try to stop him, he got up from the bed and walked to the door. Opening it quietly, he looked down the hall to make sure no one was around before stepping out the door and quietly making his way toward the front door of the apartment. Once he was out, he walked down the stairs and out of the Crashdown, letting out a deep sigh of relief. He didn’t know where he was going to go but as long as it was out of this town, it didn’t matter.

“Leaving so soon?”

Michael closed his eyes and slid his hands over his face.

“Don’t worry Michael. I’m not going to try to convince you to stay. It’s obvious you don’t want to be here.”

Turning around, he looked at her with a confused expression on his face.

“What the hell are you on? Last night you were practically begging me to stay and now you couldn’t care less. You’re like a walking contradiction.” He said, noticing the bag she was carrying. “Running away?”

“Nope, that’s your department. My parents know I’m leaving.” Liz replied, walking past him.

“Whatever you say. So where are you running to?” he asked curiously.

“South Dakota. Need a change. I have a cousin up there.”

“What’s the point? You’re just gonna come back here in a week or two anyway.”

“I’m not coming back Michael. This is my chance to get out of this town and I’m not passing it up.”

“Well have fun.” He said, turning around and walking the opposite direction.

“See, the thing is, I don’t really know anyone in South Dakota other than Becky.” Liz said to his retreating back.

“So?” Michael asked, turning back to her. He didn’t have time for this if he had any hope of getting out of town before Hank woke up and realized he was gone.

“So I was hoping that I would have someone else I could hang out with.”

“So take Maria.”

“She’s leaving for New York tomorrow morning. She’s planning on breaking into the music business.”

“Fine. Take Kyle.”

“He’s going with Maria. He says it’s the best place to find women.”

“Yeah if you want them with green hair and pierced nipples.” Michael said, raising an eyebrow. “I don’t know what to tell you then Parker.”

“Tell me you’ll come with me.” She said, matter-of-factly.

“Why would you want me coming with you?” he asked, confused.

“Why not? Look, I know we’ve never really been friends but this could be a new start for both of us. It would at least get you out of Roswell and we could look out for each other.”

:”I don’t need looking out for Liz.”

“Everyone needs looking out for Michael. Come on, it’ll be fun.”

“I don’t have a ticket.”

“Dad bought it last night. He figured it would be the best way for you to get away from Hank.” She said, handing him a small rectangular folder. “Tell you what. We’ll walk to the bus station. If by the time we get there, you don’t want to go, you can turn around and go your own way.”

Following her down the street, Michael kept looking at the ticket in his hand, not knowing whether to use it or not. If he went, he would at least be out of Roswell and away from Hank once and for all. But he’d have to depend on Liz, which was something he didn’t like to do with anyone. He wasn’t the depend on someone else kind of guy. And what was he going to do? Live off of her cousin? That wasn’t his style either. He’d be better off just going his own way and forgetting about everything in his past.

“Michael?” Liz asked. Michael looked up and realized they had made it to bus station and were standing next to the bus Liz would be getting on. The question was would he? He stood there a minute holding onto the ticket tightly. Liz was watching him waiting to see what his next move was going to be. Something he didn’t even know the answer to.

“Are you coming or not son?” The bus driver asked. “Bus leaves in two minutes.”

Michael looked from the driver to Liz to the ticket in his hand and then back toward town. Decision made. Whether it was the right one or not was yet to be determined, but he knew what he had to do. Handing the driver his ticket, he looked at Liz. “Yeah I’m coming.”

Liz smiled and grabbed his hand, leading him up the bus steps and to an empty seat. Five minutes after they started down the road, she was fast asleep and drooling on his shoulder. Shaking his head, Michael pulled his journal from the back of the waistband in his pants and a pen from his front pocket. Finding the first blank sheet, he began to write.

Life isn’t just fun and games. It’s adventure and consequence. It’s love and pain. It’s day and it’s night. Our lives depend on the choices we make. Sometimes they’re wrong and lead us to nothing but heartache. Other times they’re the best decisions we’ve ever made and everything’s perfect. Usually though, they’re a combination of the two. A bittersweet mix of emotions that can throw us for a loop so quickly that it’s terrifying. I’ve never experienced the perfect. But at least now I have a chance.


The End
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