Absolutely lovely banner by IAmLongTimeFan
Title: When September Ends
Disclaimer: The characters of "Roswell" belong to Jason Katims, Melinda Metz, WB, and UPN. They are not mine and no infringement is intended. Also the song, Wake Me Up When September Ends, used in the story is credited to Green Day for had it not been for that song, this would have never been written.
Category: M/L
Rating: Mature for implied character death.
Summary: During EOTW, what happened to Future Liz after Future Max left in the granolith? Her POV.
Author's Note: This is my first and probably only stand alone piece. Normally I am not one to write or read stories focusing on the EOTW episode due to how painful it was, but when the Green Day song, Wake Me Up When September Ends came out I was suddenly inspired to write this. So I hope you all enjoy it. This overall is on the depressing/angsty side since it is meant to fit into what happened on the show, but keep in mind there's always hope. And who knows I may one day decide to continue where this leaves off.
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My hand remains outstretched long after he’s gone. The violet swirls of power had ceased, dissipating into absolute darkness. Despite my mind’s acceptance to Max’s departure, it takes minutes for my hand to finally lower to my side.
When it does I briefly shut my eyes and release a weary sigh. All there was left to do was wait. Still facing the silent granolith I stare into it, refusing to blink or avert my gaze on the mere chance of his form returning within its depths. For a moment I believe I see his tall outline, a thin line of light, appear, but as my heart leaps at the thought, it disappears. Unsure of what I just saw or perhaps imagined, I move from my fallen position with hesitant steps.
The hand that had reached for my beloved’s departing soul lifts once more. As my hand moves, it begins to shake under the dueling feelings of fear and hope. But as I have always done, I follow my heart and urge my hand forward. Expecting the warm shock of electricity I lightly touch the obsidian-like surface, only to shiver at the contact.
Ice meets my tender nerves and proceeds towards my pained heart. My need to feel him turns desperate and I attempt to plunge my hand into the black ice. My fingers reach out to the darkened abyss searching for any traces of the soul I love. But I feel the hard, smooth surface of the granolith devoid of light, of life. The energy gone with Max to another time has made the surface turn frigid, numbing the tips of my fingers. I continue to touch though, unable to stop the masochistic action. The cold spreads from my deadened nerves to my bones and slowly towards my heart. The sensation is anesthetizing and my eyes close as I lose myself to it.
His face is all I see, lined with the stresses of the constant battles and gently cradled by his graying hair. I gaze into his eyes the one part of him that refused to change completely. For whenever he looked at me, only love and the innocence we had known and lost together still lived on in their depths. But all I saw was desperation.
The dim light of the chamber shimmers back into focus then and shoving back against the wall I wildly scour the dark surroundings, my mind racing in panic. What was that? Have I gone insane? Is this an after effect of changing time? Or have I already become Nicholas’ victim?
I shake my head to physically stop the barrage of questions. When my mind clears I release a slow breath and once again attempt to search the chamber’s shadows for any intruders. My movements are measured as I quietly circle the area, my hands outstretched. Just as I return back to my original spot a sudden crashing sound causes me to jump back, a small yell escaping.
Immediately I cover my mouth, listening for further signs of the enemy. Moments later more crashes are heard, but fortunately their sounds are distant.
In relief I move back against the wall, sliding down to the floor. As I draw my knees close I briefly flash onto the time Max had been in this exact position. But the memory just emphasizes my loneliness, causing the cool chamber walls to bear down on me, almost to the point of suffocation.
Then the walls shuddered.
My head jerks up suddenly, my eyes panicked. I faintly register the pain in my knees as I grip them harder, completely focused on listening for another attack. Perhaps the world would end sooner than I thought. But then with Max gone, would it matter when it did?
The rumble begins again. They’re coming closer and then they’ll be in. My chest seizes at the idea and after a breathless moment I mentally order myself to calm down.
Throughout the years the thought of Max, of being in his steady embrace was enough. Now though, the thought of him just brings tears. So I draw further back in my memories to a time before Max, to a time where the world was a small town called Roswell and I was a girl that dreamed of a long, bright future—a girl that wrote about those dreams in a journal.
I hadn’t written in a journal since the night I eloped. That entry had been a happy farewell to my small town past and the beginning to a new life in the unknown. Now lost in morbid thoughts I need the stability that old life had; and so with a silent breath I lean back against the wall and begin my final journal entry.
It’s September 18, 2014.
What is it about September that seems to bring about disasters and sorrow? All around the world people have experienced the most horrifying and saddening of circumstances, be it on a national, global or individual scale. Every day has its risks and disclosure of unknown fates, but for many and especially for me, September held the most.
There had even been a song voicing the terror and regrets that a life lost brought. Sitting here with only apprehension and the thundering sounds of doom for company I concentrate to hear the faint threads of the melody hidden in my memory.
Summer has come and passed
When was the last time I spent a summer lying on the beach enjoying the sensation of doing and thinking nothing?
The innocent can never last
The day I learned there was life beyond earth had been the slow degradation of my innocence. Though the secret brought me love, adventure and amazing knowledge, it had been at the cost of my parent’s trust, at any openness in future friendships and ultimately everyone’s life.
Wake me up when September ends
As the song plays out in my mind, its plaintive plea resounds louder with each lyric sung.
Like my fathers come to pass
Seven years has gone so fast
Wake me up when September ends
Just a couple of weeks back it had been my birthday, but there was no time to celebrate. Instead I held my sister-in-law in my arms, hearing her last cries while her brothers fended off the remaining attackers. For all the changes I had been through, for all my power, I could not save her. And at that moment I drew closer to Max, knowing yet another aspect to his beautiful, yet tortured soul.
But that soul has left me now… because I asked him to. I still stare vacantly at the abandoned granolith base, hoping for his strong form to reappear; hoping for the darkness and cold to leave. Desperate for warmth I cling to myself, bringing my knees closer to my chest. Then hardly conscious of my movements, my hand draws in towards the first place I had been touched by his loving soul.
Yet nothing happens. I feel no more sense of our connection than I had the moment before. He truly was gone, lost to a life I’ll never know nor would want to know.
The sensation of unshed tears returns and I quickly shut my eyes to quell the act. Then the visions begin again.
Here comes the rain again
Falling from the stars
Drenched in my pain again
Becoming who we are
The life saving hand I know so well grips at a tissue box, his knuckles turning white under the sudden stress. The familiar voice that used to comfort me cuts through the dreamy haze in my mind— You are not letting yourself change.
I lose track of my thoughts as my sight once again settles on the static surroundings of the chamber.
As my memory rests
But never forgets what I lost
Wake me up when September ends
I allow myself to remain blank, the blackness of the abandoned granolith taking over my sight, my mind. However, as I feel myself drifting into the darkness a protesting whisper to hold on calls out in my mind. Memories fade in and out, bringing me brief glimpses of happiness, of companionship and love. As they continue their colors dim, their sounds become muted and the feelings disappear. My life was ceasing to exist.
Summer has come and passed
The innocent can never last
Wake me up when September ends
For a frantic second I fear the acknowledgement of what was becoming of my soul. My chest heaves as I breathe rapidly from my panic. And then I force myself to accept it. This had been my plan. This was the consequence I had to live with, to die with. And then a small laugh escapes my lips with yet another realization.
Ring out the bells again
Like we did when spring began
Wake me up when September ends
Of all the ironies I have endured in my life, this one surpasses them all. Today was September eighteenth. The eighteenth. Exactly fifteen years ago I had been shot. Fifteen years ago Max had saved me, bringing me into his secret, into this life. Fifteen years ago the world’s fate had been set in motion. And though he had postponed my life, almost doubling my lifespan, I had been destined to die on this date.
Here comes the rain again
Falling from the stars
My sacrifice hadn’t been enough. I wasn’t supposed to break my heart; I was supposed to have it stop.
Drenched in my pain again
Becoming who we are
The thought continues to echo in my head, breaking my heart until my spirit is completely shattered. I cover my eyes and sob for my regrets—for every life lost in this life, for the love I’ve sent Max to destroy in the other. I continue to cry realizing my last words to my love had been the biggest lie I had ever uttered. For how could I not regret something that ended up being the ultimate selfish act, no matter if it was the greatest love I’d ever know?
As my memory rests
But never forgets what I lost
Wake me up when September ends
As I lose myself to my tumbling broken emotions, the visions return enacting revenge for my decision.
Summer has come and passed
The innocent can never last
Wake me up when September ends
My balcony shimmers into view, the soft Christmas lights belying the events occurring beneath. My younger self cries, as I do now, reliving the moments she could never take back.
I don’t want to die for you. Her voice, my voice cries out the lie all the while denying the harsh words. How could my plan have gone so wrong? How could I hurt the man I love, the man who saved me? Why had this seem less painful when I had thought it out? Why had the plan seemed flawless when I forced Max to accept it?
Like my father's come to pass
Twenty years has gone so fast
My hands hold either side of my temple as I continue to mentally berate myself. I had always considered myself a planner. True, when it came to being with Max I threw caution to the wind, but when it came to another person’s life, let alone the entire world, I considered all aspects. I truly believed that as a group we were at our strongest, it was what my heart believed. I honestly thought that perhaps down the line there could have been a chance for me and Max. Because when he had bared his soul to me, the dreams that I had written in my journal became one—a life with Max Evans.
Wake me up when September ends
I allow my eyes to rest for the last time from their vigilant watch of the crumbling chamber. As they shut I’m hardly aware of the persistent blasts upon the chamber’s door. The muted crashes transform into the soft mournful strains of the song that defined my relationship with Max. I see my husband, his shy smile a welcomed sight. He spins me around and around and I can almost hear the giggles I had on that wedding night so long ago. Then the music suddenly stops, the vision of my balcony fading quickly into nothingness, leaving me with one sole thought—I’m gonna be alone.
Wake me up when September ends
Having accepted my fate I cling to the darkness, but a growing hum demands my attention. I crack open my eyes observing the new event through tiny slits. Light has returned to the granolith, trails of lightning circling from its every corner. The humming continues to intensify, accompanied by the rapid light. For a second I grant myself a chance to hope and urge my lips to move, “Ma—”
Wake me up when September ends
Then with sudden silence and brilliance the energy reaches outward.
Without chance for breath, the blinding light envelopes me.
And the dream ends.