JO
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many gracious thanks to Blanca for the beautiful art
Disclaimer: The characters of Roswell are the property of Twentieth Century Fox Television and Regency Productions. All original characters and concepts are the property of the author. No profit has been made from the distribution of this work of fiction. No infringement intended. Similar situations are chances of fate.
Category: post-Graduation
Rating: MATURE
Prologue
June 12, 2002
I’m Liz Parker Evans and this is the beginning of my new life. It feels so odd to write that...my new life...because on September 24, 1999, my life would have ended had Max Evans not patched a bullet hole 2 inches below my ribs. Now, 3 years later (although it feels like a lifetime), Max and I are husband and wife - only 1 year earlier than my Future Max and his Liz. So many things have changed since that moment in the Crashdown when Max healed me and we connected on a higher level, but I guess those things really aren’t mportant. What’s important are the people with me in this van: Michael, Maria, Kyle, Isabel and Max. They’re my family now; they’re my future. My past, along with my old journal, lies in Roswell, NM, and all we can do now - the six of us - is to carry on, endure, live.
It’s also odd to look at today’s date, especially when thinking about death. I can’t think about it without a shiver running down my spine. This is the day from my vision, the day we were supposed to die - June 12, 2002. We began running after graduation and have stopped only long enough for the essential items: food, pee break, wedding. I know I shouldn’t be writing this, I shouldn’t be putting my feelings about these recent events into words in such a concrete way, but I can’t help it. Old habits die hard. I have to believe that we’ll be okay; that if we just keep running long enough, they’ll stop looking. At least that’s what I’m praying for.
Kyle is driving now with Isabel riding shotgun. They’re playing a game of ‘I Spy.’ Maria and Michael are snuggled together in the back seat, their arms wrapped tightly around each other. I think they had a quickie in the bathroom of the Jiffy Mart when we crossed into Nevada but I’m not sure. They’re both happy for the moment...but then again, their relationship has been anything but conventional. I can’t help but glance over at Max, my husband, my soul mate, the love of my life. My eyes are instantly drawn to his wedding band, knowing that I put it there, that I marked his soul (and ring finger) as surely as he marked mine. We’ve had trying times. We’ve been to hell and back but here we are now together - carrying on, enduring, living.
As the slide show of the past three years plays like an old movie reel through my mind, I can’t help but feel saddened by all that we’ve had to leave behind, especially our parents. Max and Isabel had finally gotten the acceptance from their parents they so desperately wanted after telling them the truth and now, their family is torn in half. Isabel also lost Jesse in the process. I didn’t know him that well but watching him beg to accompany us made me respect him a little more. This is not his battle, it’s not his war, and yet, because he loved Isabel, he wanted to brave it with her. I can’t imagine how hard it must have been for her to turn him away. I know how hard it was for me to push Max away and I know how completely grateful I am that he is in my life.
After we married in Arizona, the six of us spent the night in Tempe. I know, it’s almost too coincidental with the future version of my life, except that Alex was not there. He wasn’t there in body, but I know for a fact he was there in spirit because I was thinking about him. I can’t help not thinking about him. He was my best friend and he’s gone, his life tragically taken by a traitor. Alex is probably the biggest regret of my entire involvement with Max. In the end, I gained a husband but I guess you could say I lost so much more: Alex, my innocence, my family. I shouldn’t feel sad; I don’t want to feel sad - I’m finally happy. Max and I are together for the rest of our lives. I’ve graduated from West Roswell High School with a decent grade point average (not Harvard quality, by any means) and my parents, Max’s parents, and Maria’s mom finally know the truth about what our lives have been like for the past 3 years. But there are just so many things to be considered in this new chapter of my life. I’ve never really admitted this before - at least not in print - but I’m scared. I’m scared because the plan I had for my life went drastically wrong 3 years ago. I’m scared because I don’t know who I’m running from or where I’m running to. I’m scared because my entire world just got bigger overnight. Maybe I shouldn’t feel this way. Maybe I shouldn’t be having these...feelings, but feelings drive us, right? Feelings push us toward a goal. Feelings make us...human. So that’s who I am today, June 12, 2002. I’m Liz Parker Evans, happy and a little bit scared but I’m carrying on, enduring, living.
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Part 1
June 13, 2002
It’s almost 2:00 in the morning and I don’t know why I’m still awake. I should be nestled in the arms of my sleeping husband (one week officially today!!) We’re staying in Las Vegas for a couple of nights, each of us at our own little dive of a hotel. The day was exhausting but running for your life can tire a person.
Max and I were the first to be dropped off at our hotel, the Tropicana. It reminds me of the hotel where we found Michael and Maria on our way to Marathon. Porno version of Aladdin indeed!! I can’t help but wonder the condition of the hotels Michael, Maria, Isabel and Kyle are staying at if the Tropicana is any indication. We registered under the names ‘Jeff and Nancy Parker,’ our appearances altered slightly to protect us. Max told me I looked good as a redhead, courtesy of Isabel’s magic hands. I told him I thought he had a thing for brunettes which he said was true and that he’d show me once we were in the room. Luckily, I had one of my dad’s old credit cards in my purse and as fate would have it, it was approved. We each cut up our credit cards and bank cards (after withdrawing all possible monies) in the Mojave Desert almost five days ago. I don’t know why we went to the desert - maybe we were homesick for the isolation that the desert used to offer. Maybe we needed the jagged rocks and clay-colored sand to help us with our thought process. I don’t know why we went there. I just know that in the Mojave Desert of Southern California, six people died, their existence simply wiped clean and that at 2:10 in the morning, I’m mourning their deaths.
Liz closed the notebook and wrapped her arms around herself. She was clad only in Max’s white dress shirt, the one he’d worn when they got married one week earlier. She’d begun using it as pyjamas on their wedding night. She loved the smell of it, to feel like that he was wrapped all around her, totally enveloping her in every sense. It had given her comfort when she couldn’t sleep as the six of them had spent several crowded nights in the van. This was no kind of honeymoon, Max had told her that first night, clutching her body tightly against his, maneuvering them so they could touch each other and try to ignore the other four people sleeping around them. They had succeed in removing Max’s jacket and dress shirt and Liz’s white peasant top before Max covered her bare shoulders with his own shirt. Then, as quietly as possible, they had exited the van and made love underneath the star-filled sky. It had reminded Liz of the first night they spent together underneath the stars and she had bought the wire-bound notebook the following morning at a gas station, intent on writing down everything she felt. The morning after though, she had still been high on the surges of passion coursing through her body. She had had no way of knowing that one week later she’d be awake in the middle of the night crying about their futures.
“Liz?” Liz jerked in the chair, turning from her seat at the rickety table toward the bed where Max was resting on his side. “Liz, come back to bed,” Max said, pushing himself up onto his elbow, sprigs of his hair sticking up at all different directions. “It’s late,” he groaned, slowly peeling back the covers. “Or early.” Pushing his weary body to the edge of the bed, he reached for his wife, their hands meeting in the darkness. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” Liz replied meekly, wildly avoiding Max’s eyes. The moonlight filtered in sparsely through the frayed curtains, slightly illuminating Max’s face, particularly his eyes. And Liz knew she was in no condition to look into Max’s eyes, knowing full well that he would know she was lying. “I’m fine,” she replied again, smiling with her mouth only.
“Liz,” Max whispered, pulling her into his lap. “I know you better than that.” He threaded his hands through her long tresses as she wrapped her arms around his neck, sighing loudly. “Tell me what’s wrong, baby.”
“I don’t know,” she said, her eyes instantly filling with tears again. “I just...this is all so...hard, Max.”
“You don’t want to be here?”
“I want to be wherever you are. I meant what I said about doing anything to be with you. We’re in this together, Max, and I’m not living the rest of my life without you. This...it isn’t about that.”
“What then,” Max asked, lightly brushing his lips against her throat. “What’s keeping you up?”
“I...I’m scared,” she whispered faintly. “I...I’m not scared about us, Max. I love you and being with you is what I want to do. I’m just -”
“Scared about the future,” Max offered, wrapping his arms around her waist and resting his head against her chest. He raised his eyes to meet hers and Liz pulled her bottom lip into her mouth, tugging on it with her teeth as she nodded her head slowly. “It’s okay to be scared. I’m scared too.”
“Really?”
Max nodded as he collected her into his arms and slid into the center of the bed. “I’ve been scared my entire life. Scared that I’d be found out. Scared that my parents wouldn’t love me. Scared to confess what I felt for you because I thought you’d run.”
Liz wrapped her legs around Max’s waist, snuggling as close to him as possible. “But I didn’t,” she offered, brushing his bangs away from his forehead. Pursing her lips, she gently placed a kiss in the center of his forehead and felt his arms tighten around her.
“I know you, Liz. We’re connected now, you know,” he said tenderly, raising his head to look into her eyes. “Cemented, and I can feel every emotion that’s flowing through your body. I know you’re scared and anxious and worried but above all those other feelings, Liz, I feel love. I know that first and foremost, you love me,” he said, capturing the tears that fell down her cheeks.
“I do love you, Max. I do.”
“If you didn’t love me, you wouldn’t be here. Don’t you know we can do anything as long as we’re together?” He framed her face with his palms, his thumbs tracing tiny circles across her cheeks. “I haven’t always made the best choices in our relationship but I know I was right to love you, to want you as my wife, my wonderful wife.”
“Max,” Liz murmured as Max began to trail his lips down her neck. She felt the fire build within her stomach and warmth flood her extremities. She had always felt heat from Max’s body every time they were close, the intensity of the heat amplified by their proximity and what they happened to be doing at the moment. She could feel her own body temperature rising, almost as if her body was calling to Max’s. She ran her hands down the length of his back, his flesh incinerating the palms of her hands and the thought that she had only felt Max’s skin this hot one previous time flashed through her brain. “You’re healing me,” she said, cupping his chin in her hands. Her eyes scanned his face for an answer to her statement, already knowing in her heart it was true. That Max was healing her.
“You can feel that?”
She nodded against his cheek as they adjusted their position on the bed, with Max lying on top of her, their bodies bound tightly together as Max’s hand came to rest on her naked hip. “I feel everything about you, Max. I know you, your heart, your soul. And no matter what healing powers you have, nothing will ever heal me as much as simply being with you.”
“I love you, Liz Parker Evans,” Max whispered just before his lips crashed against hers. Liz felt his fingers expertly unbuttoning the shirt and her own desperate need to have her husband make love to her filled her mind. He slipped her out of the shirt with ease, letting it fall underneath her onto the bed. “Liz,” he whispered her name like a prayer as their bodies joined with ease. “My strong, beautiful wife.” Liz smiled quickly, a faint blush settling on her cheeks as she kissed Max fully on the mouth, willing this moment into the journal of her mind.