It’s Not Too Late and It’s Not Too Bad
Rating:Teen/Mature
Couples: Gazer/CC
Disclaimer: Roswell belongs to first to Melinda Metz, then to Jason Katims and 20th Century Fox. She created them; they killed them. I’m just borrowing them.
Author’s Note: This is a gift for Pooh – just because. Sorry for the lack of nookie Pooh, but some things you just can’t change. I've been promising her this forever, and I've been working on it for quite a while. This is all I have that's postable.
“Come on, damn it, answer the phone,” Isabel said, pacing the small room at the Tumbleweed Motel. She tracked nervously back and forth, banging into a chair upholstered in vinyl as she waited impatiently for Max to answer his cell phone.
“Hi, this is Max, leave a message,” his voice mail responded, and Isabel disconnected the call abruptly. She didn’t need her brother’s voice mail she needed him.
She started to dial Liz’s number but paused, her attention drawn to the figure lying on the bed. His breathing was shallow, almost imperceptible, and his skin was a sickly shade of gray. Without warning, his eyes fly open, and stare unseeing at the motel’s grimy ceiling.
“Why are you doing this to me?” he pleaded. “I did everything you wanted. I figured it all out. You have everything you need. Why can’t you just leave me alone?”
“Alex, Alex, what is it?” Isabel dropped to her knees beside the bed and stroked his forehead gently. “Can you hear me? Wake up Alex.”
If she had looked in the mirror, she would have been horrified by her appearance. Mascara streaked down her face, her eyes were red rimmed and puffy. Her hair, which had been arranged in an elegant up do hours before, hung in disheveled clumps around her face, and her once pristine gown was a wrinkled mess. But Isabel noticed none of this. She was focused entirely on the person lying unconscious on the bed.
Without conscious thought, she punched buttons on her cell phone, biting her lip anxiously while praying for someone to answer.
“Hello?”
“Max? Is that you?” Isabel asked. It didn’t sound like Max, but who else would be answering Liz’s cell phone.
“Uh, no, you must have the wrong number,” the voice answered.
“No, I can’t have the wrong number. Is this Liz’s phone?”
“Yeah, hang on, I’ll get her for you.”
There was a muffled sound and the voice called out, “Hey, Parker, your phone wants you.”
When Liz’s voice came over the line, Isabel almost collapsed with relief. If anybody knew where Max was, it was Liz.
“I need Max, Liz. Something’s wrong with Alex,” Isabel said without preamble.
“What’s wrong with Alex?” Liz asked.
“I don’t have time for this,” said Isabel, panic creeping into her voice. “Just put Max on the phone.”
“I don’t know where he is,” said Liz, pain creeping into her voice. “He’s probably with Tess. Isabel, where are you? What’s wrong with Alex?”
“We’re at the Tumbleweed. I have to go,” Isabel said. “I have to find Max.”
“Wait, what’s wrong?” Liz shouted, but Isabel had already ended the call.
She began to pace around the room again trying to control the panic that threatened the tenuous grasp she had on her composure. Max wasn’t answering his cell phone, and she didn’t know Tess’ number. It didn’t occur to her to wonder why Max was with Tess, nor whom the mysterious voice was that answered Liz’s phone. Her attention was focused entirely on the situation at hand.
She looked again over to the bed where Alex laid, still unconscious. He needed help desperately. She wished she had the ability to heal, but instead, she had the ability to dream walk people, and that wasn’t going to do anything for her, or Alex. “Or would it?” she wondered to herself.
She quickly dialed Max’s number again and left him a brief voice mail, telling him where she was, and giving him a brief overview of what was happening. Then she grabbed the small satin clutch bag she had filled with the many trivial necessities she thought she would need to get through prom night with Alex. She pulled out a small billfold and flipped through it until she came to a picture of her brother, and another of Alex.
Isabel lay on the bed next to Alex and touched the picture of Max, and struggled to enter his mind. It worked best when the other person was asleep, but her need was so great, she was willing to try anything to contact Max.
** * ** * ** * ** *
Tess leaned against Max suggestively. She had worked hard to get everything to play out the way it did tonight. It killed her to mind warp Kyle into thinking he liked her as a sister. She wanted him in the worst way possible. She was hot just thinking about him, but he wasn’t her objective – unfortunately. No, she had to seduce the boy king – again. It was bad enough that she had to sleep with him when she was his wife. Her father had forced her to go after Zan in order to secure himself a position in the Antarian government. She got Zan, and her father got himself killed for playing both Zan and Kivar against each other.
And here she was, back in the same position, only this time it was Nescado calling the shots. He’d made a deal with Kivar, and offered her up as a willing sacrifice. Steeling herself, Tess prepared to proceed as she had been instructed from the time she emerged from her pod.
Tess lightly ran a finger up and down his arm, trying to get a reaction out of Max. When that failed, she placed her hand on his cheek and began to lightly bring his head down to meet her mouth. Her lips caressed his lightly, and her tongue traced the contour of his lips. Slowly her tongue parted his lips, and she suppressed a shudder as her tongue found it’s way into his mouth. She toyed with the idea of pretending she was kissing Kyle, but she was afraid she’d somehow transmit that image to Max.
Without warning, Max stiffened and pulled away, and Tess blanched slightly afraid that she had accidentally let Max see the image of Kyle that had crept into her mind.
“What is it Max?” she said, struggling to make her voice a seductive whisper, and grimacing when it came out like in a frightened squeak.
“Isabel. Something’s wrong,” Max said. “Where’s my cell phone. I have to call her.” He searched his pockets, looking for his phone.
Tess pulled at his arm, trying to capture his attention. “Come on, Max you’re imagining things.”
Max ignored her and searched his pockets frantically for his cell phone cursing softly when he saw the battery was dead. He used his powers to charge the battery and found multiple voice mails waiting for him. Before the first message was ended, Max was on his feet, dragging Tess out of the pod chamber and back to his jeep.
“Max, stop, where are we going?” Tess asked, panting in her struggle to keep up with him.
“Isabel needs me,” he said. “Something’s wrong with Alex.”
Max played the next message on his voice mail, ignoring Tess who was jabbering in the seat beside him, and breathed a sigh of relief when this message provided him with Isabel’s location. He’d barely finished listening to that message when his cell phone rang.
“Hello?” he answered, as the jeep flew down the deserted highway back towards town.
Max, it’s Liz. Look, something’s wrong with Alex and Isabel, Liz began.
“What are you doing there, Liz?” Max demanded in a cold voice.
Isabel called me, looking for you; she said something was wrong with Alex. He’s my best friend, Max. Where else would I be?
“Fine, whatever. What’s wrong with Isabel?” Max asked, brusquely.
I’m not sure,” Liz admitted.
“Look around her and see if you see any pictures,” Max said. If Isabel had dream walked him, whose to say she didn’t try to dream walk Alex as well.
She’s holding a picture of Alex, Liz said, the cell phone giving her voice a tinny quality.
“She’s dream walking Alex,” said Max. “We’ll be there in a few minutes. Call Michael and get him over there,” he ordered.
I already did Max. I couldn’t get through to you, so I called Michael hoping he’d know where you were. They should be here any second, along with Kyle.
“Fine,” Max responded, curtly. “We’ll see you in a few minutes.”
Max ended the call and stuffed his cell phone back into his jacket pocket.
“I could have sworn I charged it earlier today,” he said more to himself than to Tess who sat nervously in the passenger seat.
Tess shivered, more from fear than the cool desert air. She had used her powers to drain Max’s cell phone when they were at the prom. Another in her long list of crimes against him and his friends.
“Did you say Isabel was dream walking Alex?” she asked.
“That’s what it looks like,” Max said, his mind not on the conversation. “Look, there it is.”
He pulled the jeep into the rutted parking lot, whipped into a parking space and killed the engine.
“Come on,” he said to Tess. “We don’t have much time.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of,” Tess said cryptically.