Breathe (XO, SN, UC, Teen) [WIP]

[DatGirl88]

Banner by me


Title: Breathe
Category: Roswell XO Supernatural
Disclaimer: I don't own anything but the shoes on my feet...well not really since my mom bought them, but I helped pick them out!
Pairing: Drifter - Liz/Dean
Rating: Teen (maybe change in the future)
A/N: Set during 2nd season of Roswell, right around Cry Your Name. The Supernatural timeline will be altered slightly as well b/c I want Liz to interact with Sam before he's on the road with Dean.

Summary: They say that no one person is given more than they can bear. Of this, Liz Parker isn’t so sure. She’s made it her mission to uncover the truth about Alex's death. No matter the cost. But as time goes on, her search draws her further and further away from Roswell. And she soon discovers that life has a hell of a lot more in store for her then she ever could have imagined. Who knew finding the truth could hurt so much?


6/29/07


~Prologue~



I’m Liz Parker and today the world stopped.


Alex is gone.


My best friend since before I can even remember… is gone. It gets harder and harder to say every day. I keep telling myself that everyone dies eventually. As depressing as it may sound, death is a certainty of life; probably the only certainty in life…


well, death and science.


Amazingly enough, these thoughts bring me no comfort.


But Alex...for Alex...there just wasn’t enough time.


There are so many things left unsaid, and adventures we’ll never get to have. It’s such a waste…everything we’ve been through, all the things we’ve faced, only for it to end this way.


So today is for him and all the things he’ll never get to do.


Tomorrow, the world will keep on turning. Everyone will go back to their own lives, their own problems. And in time, they’ll forget about him.


Because the world we live in has no regard for fairness.


It breaks my heart to know the only thing that’ll be left of Alex Whitman is a faded picture in a yearbook.


But today…if only for today, damn it, their world is going to stop.


And we will remember my friend for the amazing person that he was. We will mourn for the life left unfinished.


And maybe tomorrow, when the world starts turning, and my heart stops hurting, I might forgive myself…for dragging him into all of this.


It’s possible that I’m just making myself feel like there is more to this than there really is. Maybe I just want to have a reason for why Alex isn’t here anymore. Maybe it’s just my ever-prominent thirst for answers. Whatever the reason, I need to know the truth. And I won’t stop until I find it. Whether it turns out that Alex killed himself, or it really was an accident...


I just need to know.


I’m Liz Parker and today…my world stopped.


. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Journal of Elizabeth Parker

[DatGirl88]

Disclaimer: I don’t own a thing; I am but a humble Mexican living on the good will of others.

Summary: They say that no one person is given more than they can bear. Of this, Liz Parker isn’t so sure. She’s made it her mission to uncover the truth about Alex's death. No matter the cost. But as time goes on, her search draws her further and further away from Roswell. And she soon discovers that life has a hell of a lot more in store for her then she ever could have imagined. Who knew finding the truth could hurt so much?

A/N: Just for the sake of my story, during Cry Your Name, the whole scene where Liz goes to Max’s house after she finds out about Valenti’s suicide theory never took place.


7/01/07

~Ch. 1~


Its funny how you can take for granted the people in your life. My sophomore Lit Professor had called it “death perception”; this idea that people could never really see what was right in front of them until it wasn’t there anymore.


Death as a catalyst


Rather pathetic, if you think about it. That it took a life-changing event, like death, for a person to realize what was truly important. –Journal of Elizabeth Parker

****

Watching them carry the casket up the hillside was an experience I never wanted to relive…

Even with all these people around, I felt hollow inside, detached from everything and everyone. Almost as though something had come along and ripped out everything inside of me. There was just nothing left.

Then again, maybe that was a small mercy in disguise.

Feeling nothing was a hell of a lot better then the alternative. Or so I kept telling myself as watched the heartbroken forms of Mr. and Mrs. Whitman; accepting condolences with a simple nod or a whispered “thank you.”

Selfishly, I couldn't help but wonder if it was going to be like this from now on.

Me standing alone, that is.

Alex, for all his corny jokes and easy laughs, had been the one to stand by me when no one else would. He was my best friend since diapers, and I didn’t know how I was going to cope without him.

I should have found some small comfort in the fact that I still had Maria. But if I’m honest with myself, I know the only thing that really kept us together was Alex.

But now that he's gone, I wasn't so sure mine and Maria's friendship could handle the strain.


The earth shall soon dissolve like snow…


Maria’s voice wavered, and I watched intently as she clung tightly to her mothers’ hand with the same look of despair that lingered on every other tear-stained face...every face but my own.

My eyes roved over their faces, some friends, but most family, studying their reactions as a way to pass the time, anything to keep from looking at that damn coffin. I'd only seen it once before as I had offered to help Mrs. Whitman with the funeral arrangements. It took her nearly the entire day to make the decision, and I'd been too stubborn to admit how uncomfortable I was around all the finely crafted death-beds. Even when it was empty, I hadn't wanted to look too closely. And now, just the knowledge that it wasn't empty anymore kept my eyes away.


The sun forbid to shine…


The logical part of me knew he was gone. It was confirmed the minute Max climbed out of the van without Alex; the minute I saw the blood on his hand.


But I knew looking at the coffin would make it far to real for me, and I just wasn't ready for that.


I could not accept that he was dead. I would not accept that within the box they were slowly lowering into the ground, was all that remained of my best friend, my brother.


It was almost as if I’d abandoned the role I’d always struggled to play in life: Liz Parker, the realist, the scientist, the girl with all the answers.


But God who calls me here below, will be forever mild…


Like anyone who's ever lost someone, I childishly wanted to believe that this was all some bad dream. That any minute Alex would come walking by, grinning that innocent ‘Who me?’ grin he’d perfected as the innocent ten year-old who’d gotten away with rewiring the principals computer.


Someone that vibrant, that amazingly talented, couldn’t be dead.


It just wasn’t right. There was no justice in that.


Yes when this flesh and heart shall fail and mortal life shall seize…


A year ago, Max had asked me what was so great about being normal. And until today, nothing had come to mind. Normal was a relative term anyway. Everyone’s perception of normal was different. But now, being normal was something I desperately craved.


I shall possess, within the veil, a life of joy and peace…


Normal meant my boyfriend wasn’t taking trips to the past to keep us apart. Normal meant Maria wouldn’t be complaining about her lack of visions every time she and Michael got intimate. Normal meant my best friend wasn’t dead.


Amazing grace how sweet the sound, that saved a wretch like me…


It seemed almost natural that Isabel was the first to move towards the coffin, the first to lay a rose upon its surface. In that moment, I knew she had loved him more than any of us had ever realized, and certainly more than I had ever given her credit for. Her tears seemed endless as her fingers lingered over the coffin with so much despair. And again, I avoided looking directly at the box itself, choosing instead to focus on Isabel's trembling fingers. It was a shocking thing to see the queen of West Roswell High brought to her knees. I was almost certain Max was going to have to pull her away, but a few concentrated breaths later; she was standing and moving away.

After she’d stepped back, more and more began to throw down their own roses, some saying final goodbyes, others whispering prayers of sorrow. And soon, the rest of my friends followed; Maria, Michael, Kyle, Max…hell even Tess.

I watched all of them lay their roses down, one after another.

I wish I could say that I did the same. I wished so much that I could do this. Judging by the concerned looks searing into me from all sides, I knew everyone else expected it of me as well. But I just couldn’t do it. I wasn’t ready to say goodbye.


I wasn’t ready to let him go.


And in that moment I'd never felt more alone or more ashamed of myself.


I once was lost but now am found ‘twas blind but now I see.


The last line of the hymn hung in the air. Maria’s haunting voice chipped away at the well constructed wall that safeguarded my thoughts from the sorrow I knew waited on the other side. There was darkness there. Darkness I’d never known. It scared me, more than anything in my life ever had.

So maybe the emptiness I felt was a little more self-inflicted then I realized.

I glanced down at the red rose in my left hand, and I stared at it even as the others began making their way down the hill. For some unexplainable reason, looking at this rose made me so angry, so angry I almost couldn’t breathe. Before I knew it, my hand was clenching the rose so hard it drew blood. The thorns bit into my palm, and the blood traveled down the stem to the ground. The drops fell in succession, creating a faster rhythm the harder I squeezed, until finally the pattern of the droplets was all I could hear.

.drip.
.
.
.
.drip.
.
.
.
.drip.
.
.
.

I felt someone grasp my hand in theirs, prying my fist open gently, but I could not stop looking at the red stained grass beneath my feet. Whoever it was removed the flower from my hand, and I winced. It wasn’t until he spoke that I looked up.

“You might wanna have Max take a look at this,” Kyle said softly, “It looks deep.”

His concern was touching; I recognized this despite my current emotional state.

I attempted a smile, if only for his feelings. “I’ll be fine.”

“You sure?”

I nodded, letting him move past me before I followed him down the hill.

If Max couldn’t heal Alex there was no way he could heal me.

***

Thanks so much for all the feedback!

[DatGirl88]

Disclaimer: I don’t own a thing. There are also a few quotes and scenes in here that are from the episode Cry Your Name which I do not own.

Summary: They say that no one person is given more than they can bear. Of this, Liz Parker isn’t so sure. She’s made it her mission to uncover the truth about Alex's death. No matter the cost. But as time goes on, her search draws her further and further away from Roswell. And she soon discovers that life has a hell of a lot more in store for her then she ever could have imagined. Who knew finding the truth could hurt so much?

A/N: Just for the sake of my story, during Cry Your Name, the whole scene where Liz goes to Max’s house after she finds out about Valenti’s suicide theory never took place.


7/09/07

~Ch. 2~

I never knew what all of this would lead to. I never knew that finding the truth would force my friends to turn their backs on me.

I just wanted answers.

I guess that was something they could never understand. They didn’t want an explanation; they wanted to forget it ever happened. They wanted to move on.

But all I wanted…was answers.-Journal of Elizabeth Parker

****


Despite the argument we had the night before, Mr. Valenti offered to take me to the wake with him and Kyle.

Needless to say I was a little put off.

Not less than twenty-four hours ago we’d been ready for an all out war of words, and now he was offering me a ride.

In my current state, I wouldn’t have thought twice about telling him to shove off. I was about to do just that, when Kyle must have realized this because he tugged on my arm and practically threw me in the back seat of their truck, before getting in himself and slamming the door.

"Doesn't Buddha have some kind of philosophy against manhandling?" I huffed, hitting Kyle's headrest for good measure.

"Aww come on, don't be difficult. How else are you gonna get there? Maria's car is full and Max and Isabel are already gone."

I glared at the back of his head. “I could have walked, you know,” I said darkly.

“Liz,” he sighed rubbing the back of his neck tiredly, “You’re not about to walk three miles to Alex’s house. Just sit back and shut up.”

Apparently, that was that.

I couldn’t get out of the car unless one of them got out first and pulled the seat back. And seeing as how I’d arrived by cab and had no other means of transportation because my parents were out of town until tomorrow, I settled back in my seat.

Fine.

I’d let them think they were doing me a favor.

The fact that I’m being completely unreasonable has dawned on me.

Really, it has.

But sitting in the same car as someone who’s entertaining thoughts of Alex committing suicide is something I found akin to being shot again.

Thankfully, the rest of the ride was fairly uneventful; give or take a few heated glances exchanged between myself and the ex-sheriff. After handing me something for my hand, Kyle remained in his own world for the most part.

By the time we reached the Whitman’s house, my hand was stinging like you wouldn’t believe.

After the two cavemen let me out of the back seat, I was able to swallow enough of my pride to grind out a “thank you” before making my way to the closest sink.

I kept my head down as I passed through the house and the throng of people. I had no desire whatsoever to engage in any form of conversation right now. I just wanted to wash the blood off my hand.

I had to wash the blood off my hands... I shook my head to clear away the dark thoughts I'd kept at bay since I heard the news, focusing instead on searching for a place to clean my hand.

Simple game plan right?

Wrong.

In order to get to the kitchen I’d have to pass the refreshment table, which also meant I’d have to pass Michael and Tess seeing as how they chose this particular moment to camp out in front of the damn thing.

I couldn’t use the bathroom because low in behold, Max and Isabel were standing in front of that door.

These aliens…it’s a conspiracy I tell you.

I actually considered chopping off my hand for a few seconds, before I decided to suck it up…the choice was obvious, which is why I found myself in the backyard. I figured maybe I could just dunk my hand in the pool. Sure it would sting, but at least it kept me from any emotional heart to hearts for awhile.

Of course all of that went out the window the moment I laid eyes on Mr. Whitman.

I bit my lip hard. It was amazing how much he looked like Alex.

The pain in my heart dulled, if only for a moment, as a great wave of shame swept through me.

How could I have been so selfish?

At the funeral, all I could think of was how much loosing Alex would effect me. I hadn't even thought of what this was doing to the Whitman's . Alex was my best friend and probably one of the most important men in my life, but he was first and foremost Mr. Whitman's son and I knew the pain I felt was nothing compared to his own; a fact that had me feeling incredibly small.

My feet had developed a mind of their own it seemed, because before I knew it I was standing beside him by the edge of the pool.

I struggled for the right thing to say, because as Micheal loved to point out, "Parker always knows just what to say to make a man feel gay."

“He…was an amazing person, Mr. Whitman.” It was paltry at best, cliché even, but I didn’t know what else to say.

If Guerin could only see me now.

For awhile I wasn’t sure if he’d been aware anyone was standing next to him, let alone speaking to him, as he was staring so intently into the water. But then he glanced at me with this small heart wrenching smile that was all too familiar. “I’m sure you know he thought the same of you.”

“Yeah,” I nodded, “I did.”

“You and Maria were all he could talk about sometimes.” I tried to lift the corners of my mouth into something that would slightly resemble a smile, but talking about Alex in the past tense was affecting me far more then I let on.

“Can I ask you a favor?” When he nodded, I pressed on. “Do…do you think it’d be okay if I went and sat in his room for awhile?”

His eyes met mine. “I haven’t been able to bring myself to go in there…”

The honesty of his response startled me, and I was suddenly having second thoughts about the request.

Maybe I'd pushed it too soon?

“—But sure, I think it would be okay.”

I knew I’d lose it eventually, that everything I'd been suppressing would surface, but I had not expected it to happen until I was alone, and far, far away from anyone else.

However, at that moment, whatever wall I had used to block my emotions, to block out the darkness of grief, came crumbling down as I buried my head in Mr. Whitman’s shoulder and wrapped my hands around his waist.

This man was as much a part of my family as anyone. Some of my biggest memories happened with Mr. Whitman and his family. I learned how to ride my bike on their front lawn because I’d never had a yard to practice in. He’d taught Alex and me how to swim in this very pool. He even taught me how to drive when my parents had been too nervous to even try. My love of science came from this man.

So I guess in retrospect, losing it in front of him didn’t seem so strange.

I hugged him for all I was worth, and for the first time since Mr. Valenti had given me the news, I cried.

This place would never be the same, and it hurt to know that. It actually, physically hurt. The Whitman house embodied everything that was my childhood, and to have that taken away so suddenly was a pain that would never go away.

Mr. Whitman had taken to rocking me back and forth gently as I soaked through the sleeve of his suit. He didn't seem to mind.

“I loved him so much.” I whispered, over and over, burying my head further into his arm.

I needed him to know…to know how much his son had meant to me, to know that if I could, I’d give him back, that if I could take his place, I would.

I would have given anything...

And I needed him to know...

“Shh…I know you did,” he whispered quietly as he stroked the strands of my hair “I know.”

I needed him to know.


* * * * *

Believe it or not, it took me nearly an hour before I was able to open his bedroom door. My hands were shaking so bad I wasn't even sure I'd be able to keep a grip on the doorknob.

Oddly enough, I actually knocked before entering, which absolutely baffled me because I hadn't even done that when Alex was alive.

But now that he's gone, invading his personal space seemed more severe without him here to whine about it. It was our tradition. I'd barge in, and he'd lecture me about common courtesy and how he could have been changing or doing some other manly thing that Liz's innocent eyes shouldn't have seen. I'd then counter with a simple 'courtesy and modesty were for guests, I was family.' It never failed to bring a smile to his face.

"That you are Lizzie-Poo," he'd say "...that you are."

My heart clinched tightly at the memory, and I had to lean against the doorway for a few minutes to catch my breath.

Standing in Alex’s bedroom did ease some of the ache, and I loved that it still smelt like him. I felt like he was everywhere, like he was alive in this room.

Sighting the bass he’d been playing the day Maria and I were here giving him tips on how to woo Isabel, I reached for it, gliding my fingers along the neck of the instrument. It had been one of his favorites.

Mrs. Whitman and I had gone to the music store ourselves to pick it out for his fourteenth birthday. He'd been dropping hints for weeks about what to tell his parents when they asked me what he wanted, like they did every year.

Every time I saw it, I remembered the look on his face the day we gave it to him. I'd never seen a bigger smile from him then I did that day. He ran around serenading me on it with 'Lizzie P is the bestest friend to me' for the rest of the night.

I moved to pick it up just as a searing pain began barreling through my head so fast I saw stars. Grabbing at my head desperately, I tried to rub the feeling away, but if anything, that only seemed to make it worse. And then it hit me, a flash so bright, it had me grasping the wall for support as my eyes slammed shut.



*

A delivery boy stood in the hallway, bag of food in hand. He looked up as the door opened.

“Ray, man you really must dig this stuff, that’s the fifth time this week.”

“Yeah”

“Twenty bucks even man,” the delivery boy handed the food over and handed the guy a slip to sign.

Once he’d gotten the slip, the delivery boy nodded a farewell, throwing a “see ya mañana dude” over his shoulder before making his way out of the dorms and back to his car.

*



When I came to, I was doubled over, praying to whatever gods were out there that they'd either kill me or take the pain away.

“Liz?”

Someone was shaking me, and God did I want them to stop. My senses were on overload, and it hurt to breathe let alone move or be touched.

“Liz, breathe, you need to breathe.”

Wasn’t that what I was doing? Apparently not if the way I’m gasping means anything.

Well, hell, he was right, I wasn’t breathing.

Inhaling deeply brought me sweet relief. Opening my eyes was another matter entirely; it seems my little episode has gathered a crowd. Kyle was kneeling beside me, while the others stood around the room looking at me like I’d just sprouted another breast, though I’ll give them their due credit and say they looked mildly concerned.

“What the hell was that Parker?” Michael's voice vibrated through my ears, making me wince as I brought my hands up to cover them.

“Jesus, Liz, you scared me to death!” Maria cried, placing a hand over her heart.

“Not so loud.” I muttered, groaning a little when Kyle forced me up from the floor. My legs wobbled like I’d never used them before, and I grasped onto his forearms to keep from toppling over.

What the hell was wrong with me?

“Here,” Kyle wrapped an arm around my waist to help keep me upright. I was more than a little upset that I couldn’t stand on my own, but I was grateful for the assistance even if I was still pissed at him for tossing me in the truck like a rag doll.

His eyes held mine for a second, “You alright?”

“Yeah,” I nodded, trying to play off the fact that my head felt like it had just exploded. “Just haven’t eaten in a few days, that’s all, but I’m fine now.”

The lie slipped passed my lips before I could stop it, a problem I'd seemed to be struggling with a lot as of late. The others seemed to accept this excuse just fine, but for some reason Kyle wasn’t biting.

He stepped away for a second, which almost had me kissing the floor since my legs still weren’t functioning properly.

However, Kyle’s arm shot around my waist again before I could face-plant.

“You’re fine, huh? Well now I’m convinced.” He retorted smartly, holding me up firmly.

I would have glared, but I figured it’d make my headache worse, so I resorted to the age old “shut up” comeback.

Not original, I’ll admit, but highly effective.

The heat lamp on the side of my face told me Max was watching the exchange, but hell if I cared. I’d gotten accustomed to that look ever since he found me and Kyle in bed together.

I was done with that look.

“Well,” I started, wrapping an arm around Kyle’s shoulder to take some of the weight off my legs, “As fun as this staring fest has been, I’d like to be leaving now. So…”

Kyle looked a little affronted at being my means of escape, but he complied with my wishes and started heading towards the door.

And we would have made it, had Max not chosen to get in the way. “Just a second Liz, I’ve got something I need to tell all of you.”

“Of course you do.” I muttered darkly, before shifting, with Kyle’s help, to face the group.

The concern in Max's eyes died out as he bristled in anger, before turning to face everyone.

“I thought all of you should now that the police have been investigating the…accident, and they are considering ruling it a…a suicide.”

Kyle’s sucked in a breath, as if he’d been stung, while Isabel looked about ready to fall apart.

“Why would they say that?” Maria gasped, gripping harder to Michael’s hand. “Alex would never do something like that? How can they—” Michael pulled Maria close to him, sitting back against the seat at the window as she shook in his arms.

Max had his eyes trained on the floor as he spoke. “I know...but the police are investigating every angle, suicide is one of them. Nothings for sure," he assured quickly as Isabel started hyperventilating.

"But Valenti did show me the file and…I don’t know…the stuff they had...it looked pretty convincing.”

Before this very moment, I'd never contemplated murder, nor had I ever been considered a violent person. But God help Max Evans, because when I was done with him, there wouldn't be any thing left.

“Oh, it looked pretty convincing, Max?” My tone was down right dangerous, and until now, the only place I'd ever used it was in my head. It's always easier being a bitch in your own head then in reality and lord knows a quiet and proper girl like me hand an inner bitch just waiting to rear her vengeful head. Maria always joked that my pent up aggression was a ticking time bomb the size of China, and hell if I had any control over when I'd blow, now seemed as good a time as any.

If Kyle hadn’t been holding me up at that moment, I would have slapped Max Evans for all I was worth.

“Liz, I know it’s hard to—” He tried to placate me, but I wasn’t having it.

“You didn’t know him! So I could give a rat’s ass what looks convincing to you!” Rage was coursing through every part of my body. He reared back completely stung, no doubt, and I could not for the life of me fashion the decency to care.

Max was seriously delusional if he thought for one second I was going to let anyone think Alex killed himself.

“Hey! I’m not the bad guy here Liz! I’m just saying-”

“Well don’t! If this were Isabel or Michael you'd never even suggest it, but because it's one of us," I motioned to Maria, Kyle, and myself, "you automatically assume that this isn't related to you!”

The elephant in the room had just been thrown dead center and sacrificed for the sake of argument. Because I knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that all of us, at one point or another, had toyed with the idea. Alex's death was too sudden, and too questionable for none of us to think it. But being that I was the only one to voice the notion, I knew it would undoubtedly make me the bad guy.

Tess, who’d remained quiet for majority of the time, had taken the position of mediator. “Keep your voices down for god-sakes. Let’s just agree to disagree, okay?”

I glared at her. The headache was totally worth it. “Alex Whitman did not kill himself, and I’m going to prove it.”

Max sighed, but the glint in his eyes told me he didn't quite like where I was going. “And how are you going to do that, Liz?”

“I don’t know yet, but whatever happened, I don’t think it was an accident.” It was a premature guess at best, but my gut told me to run with it. Something inside of me knew it wasn’t an accident. My gut instinct had proven itself time and time again, and I wasn’t going to start ignoring it now. Not to mention I still didn’t know what the hell that flash meant, or how it was even possible I could still have them without touching Max.

“If it wasn’t an accident, than what was it?”

Let it be known that I, Liz Parker, have no care for tact whatsoever. At least not when I haven’t slept or eaten anything for nearly a week. This is probably why the events that followed unfolded as they did.

“He was murdered.” I felt Kyle stiffen beside me, and I tried to ease some of the tension with my hand. Poor guy was caught in the middle, literally, and I’d put him there.

“Would you listen to yourself, who’d want to kill Alex?”

After that question left Max’s mouth, the gloves were off, accusations went flying, and before I knew it I had Isabel in my face, telling me I didn’t know what the hell I was talking about, and Michael the ever silent one decided to glare a new hole in my face.

Max and I were in a standoff, and I wasn’t backing down, King or no King.
“You don’t want to think Alex was killed by an alien because that would mean you are responsible!” Even as the words left my mouth and I saw how hurt Max looked, I didn’t regret saying them.

As I said before, tact wasn’t high on my to-do list right now.

I’m guessing the other three didn’t take to kindly to my outburst because they all followed Max out the door. As they left, I had to bite my tongue to keep from shouting “good riddance.”

I didn’t care if they wanted to believe me or not. If they weren’t going to help, then it was best they stayed the hell out of my way.

“So, I guess it’s us vs. them huh?” Kyle retorted, trying to lighten the atmosphere as the others made their way downstairs.

I couldn't help but agree. Unless they changed their minds, which is highly unlikely given the circumstances, it may as well be us versus them.

“How could you say something like that Liz?”

I sighed as Maria stood up from her seat at the window. I’d really hoped she would have stuck by me on this one. The first test of our friendship without Alex, and it was already beginning to disintegrate.

“This is Alex’s funeral, and you’re spewing out accusations!” she said heatedly.

“Maria—”

“Don’t Maria me! You can’t just decide that Alex’s death wasn’t an accident! I know you're hurt and angry, but that's no excuse to make up a conspiracy where there isn't one.” Her voice is so sharp, my back straightens in alarm.

“I just want to know the tru—” I try and reason with her, but I am cut off again.

“Save it Liz.” She held up a hand, shaking her head as she made her way towards the door. “You're just looking for someone to blame. And when you see that you're wrong, because believe me you will, you'll have no one left. And there will be no one to blame but yourself."

"It’s like I don’t even know you anymore.” She muttered, making an beeline for the door.

As she tried to move past me, I held my arm in front of the doorway. “If you can’t understand why I’m doing this, why I have to do this” I whisper fiercely, “Then you never knew me at all.”

“I know what I know. And I'm going to find out the truth. I owe that...to Alex.” I let her go once I said my piece and then she left without a backwards glance.

I felt Kyle’s eyes on me, and it’s a wonder he hasn’t left yet. I think he's trying to earn some serious karma-points or something.

“Come on Liz, I’ll take you home.”


Guess it’s just me versus them.


****

A/N: I really hope you guys like this chapter because it took me forever to write, I even got a little choked up writing the scene between Mr. Whitman and Liz, but I’m still at odds whether it was due to my writing skill or the fact that I was listening to some seriously depressing Sarah McLachlan song.

Next chapter, the investigation starts, and Liz slowly but surely starts pulling away from Roswell.

Also, I know you all are waiting for the Winchester’s to arrive, but I have a lot in store for Liz before she meets either of them so just bare with me. I’m sure the suspense will make it that much sweeter.

Again thanks for all the reviews, they’re a really big ego booster!

[DatGirl88]

Disclaimer: I don’t own a thing; I am but a humble Mexican living on the good will of others.

Summary: They say that no one person is given more than they can bear. Of this, Liz Parker isn’t so sure. She’s made it her mission to uncover the truth about Alex's death. No matter the cost. But as time goes on, her search draws her further and further away from Roswell. And she soon discovers that life has a hell of a lot more in store for her then she ever could have imagined. Who knew finding the truth could hurt so much?

A/N: Hope you all enjoy it!


7/16/07

~Ch. 3~

I had blinders on as far as the rest of the world was concerned. All I wanted was the truth…

But here’s the thing no one tells you; uncovering the truth can come at a great price.

Then again, it wasn’t like I had all that much of a choice in the matter. Alex was my friend, period, end sentence. That’s what all of this was about, and despite second guessing my methods every now and then, I knew whatever the outcome that he was worth it.

Alex was worth all of it, and so much more.—Journal of Elizabeth Parker

****


It wasn't until dark that I found myself outside the Roswell Coroner’s Office, decked in black, waiting for the next shift change.

What can I say; I’m a glutton for punishment… and I’ve seen one too many Alias re-runs. Besides, you can only see Die-Hard so many times before you start thinking you’re an expert at stuff like this. And believe me, dating a guy like Kyle Valenti insured many a nights in front of the TV with any action movie that went boom.

Of course, this was before Buddha; but I digress.

I scanned my surroundings a few times, keeping a special eye on the security guard pacing at the back entrance. All of this was done, mind you, from the safety of an overgrown bush that surrounded the parking lot.

Glancing down at my watch, I noted that any minute the security guards would be heading inside to clock out for the day, leaving me roughly five minutes before the night-shift crew took their place.

Don't ask me why I knew this, I can't exactly explain what prompted me to stake out the morgue for the past three nights and memorize the rotation schedule. I just had this undeniable feeling I’d need it later.

Another one of those gut instincts I just couldn't ignore.

At exactly 11:56, rent-a-cop cleared the doorway, his shoulders slumped in an all-consuming exhaustion that I could most definately sympathize with. The poor guy looked about ready to fall asleep standing up. As the number of his yawns increased, so did my chances of actually making it inside. His fatigue was something I had banked on.

In his haste to clock out, he hadn't remembered to secure the door behind him, leaving me with an ample amount of time to slip through the door just seconds before it closed.

Apparently, all those near misses with the FBI were good for something, because I made it through the door with no problem.

Upon entering the morgue, however, I learned two things: first, wearing black was just about the dumbest decision ever because between the searing bright lights and immbecably white walls, I pretty much stuck out like a hooker in a convent; and secondly, there was no word in the entire english dictionary that could describe the smell in here. And this is coming from someone who's been in Michael's apartment.

I turned around to survey the room, pinching my nostrils together in an effort to keep out the nauseating stench. A row of metal slaps lined the wall to my left, various tables full of sterilized medical instruments, some I recognized from Anatomy class.

This was, most likely, where all the bodies were examined. God seemed to take pity on me, because the slaps were all currently vacant. I didn’t spend too much time in this room for obvious reasons.

I stuck mostly to the shadows as I passed through a hallway that looked promising, keeping my eyes peeled for any movement.

It took fifteen minutes before I actually found the file room, and I’d almost gotten caught twice. My pulse was racing as I removed a Swiss-army knife from my pocket, a gift I’d gotten from my dad after our first camping trip, and set to work on the lock.

Let me tell you, picking a lock is a hell of a lot easier in the movies then it is in real life. Fortunately, hanging with Roswell's newest deliquent taught me a thing or two about breaking and entering. Jiggling the knife a little, I made a mental note to thank Sean later for all the nightly trips to the bowling alley.

Criminal master-mind I am not, but I have to admit, I was actually kind of proud to hear the lock on the file cabinet click open.

“Whitman, Whitman, Whitman…” I muttered softly, my gloved hands quickly sifting through the W section until I finally come upon Alex’s file. I plucked the folder out and laid it on top of the drawer.

I was hoping that the autopsy report would tell me something I didn’t know, or at least something that the medical examiner over-looked due to his lack of knowledge on the rising number of ET’s relatives in Roswell.

As I stared unflinchingly at the plain manila folder in my hands, I had to remind myself to keep breathing.

I tried nearly everything I could think of to prepare myself for what I was about to do; thinking happy thoughts, imagining tranquil lakes and waterfalls, I even tried picturing freakin unicorns to keep calm. The only thing any of this acheived was undoubtedly making me look constipated.

I knew taking the file wasn’t an option; it would tip someone off that I had been here, which is why I’d brought a digital camera with me so I’d be able to save all the information I got.

However…

This was an autopsy report, and there would mostly likely be pictures…of Alex…in a state I didn’t want to remember him in.


The sound of footsteps was enough inncentive to flip the folder open, and after one more deep breath, my hands took on a life of their own, snapping pictures left and right, only stopping to make sure everything was visible on the display screen of the camera before I clicked and moved on to the next paper.

Toxicology reports, DNA scrapings; everything down to the contents of his stomach was in here.

When I finally got to the pictures, I had to clamp down on my gag reflex.

I tried not to look at the images too closely, but that was about as easy as driving passed a train wreck without stopping.


Morbid curiosity always got the best of me, and I had to keep the camera focused so it was kind of hard not to see them.

The nauseous feeling was clawing its way back up, but I remained intent on keeping my hand steady so the images wouldn’t blur.

'It's just like washing hair;' I told myself, 'lather, rinse, repeat…lather, rinse, repeat…'

Except it went more like; gag, click, turn page, repeat…gag, click, turn page, repeat…

But hey, potato potatoe, right?

After I was done, I slipped the camera safely into my front pocket, taking great pains to place everything back the way I found it. No need for anyone to find out I was here because I’d been careless enough to put Whitman before Samson.

Slipping out, I soon found, was substantially more difficult than it was sneaking in.

First I had to wait twenty minutes for the guard that kept patrolling the hallway to take a leak, and then another thirty minutes spent waiting on the guy outside the back door.

So when I’m finally breathing fresh air, it was already pitch black.

Most of the lights were out and the streets were pretty much empty, so when I’d put enough distance between myself and the morgue, I felt no shame falling to my knees and dry heaving on the sidewalk. There was nothing in my stomach short of the the bagel Kyle had shoved down my throat earlier that morning so my throat muscles just contract for awhile.

The arms that were holding me up from a one on one make-out session with the asphalt started shaking and as hard as I tried, I couldn't get them to stop. A jolt, so painful I nearly wished I were dead, rocked through my body, forcing the air out of my lungs in a silent scream.

By the time it was over, I couldn't make sense of a thing.

Getting up proved to be a challenge, but by the skin of my teeth I managed it. I probably looked like a junky with the way I was shaking and the sweat building up on my forehead, but was in too much pain to care.

The walk home was longer than usual, the shakes hadn’t stopped, and the camera felt like it was burning a hole in my pocket by the time I reached the familiar glass doors of the Crashdown.

I didn’t bother with the fire escape seeing as how my parents weren’t home, and even if they had been, I doubted I’d be able to make it up the fire escape without falling off in my current condition. I was vaguely aware of my feet leading me towards the backroom couch and not up the stairs to my room, but I didn’t have time to dwell on it because I was already out before my head hit the cushion.

****

A/N: I know this post is kind of short, but I figured it was better than no post at all. Anyways, I want to thank each and every one of you for taking the time to review my story. This is my first time posting a story here, so all the response is very exciting to read. Now I know you all are like “where the hell are the Winchester boys?” You must remember that patience is a virtue, and I have a lot in store for our Liz Parker before she meets up with them.

P.S. I changed my banner in case anyone’s interested =D

[DatGirl88]

Disclaimer: I don't own a thing but my chicken wings!

Summary: They say that no one person is given more than they can bear. Of this, Liz Parker isn't so sure. She's made it her mission to uncover the truth about Alex's death. No matter the cost. But as time goes on, her search draws her further and further away from Roswell. And she soon discovers that life has a hell of a lot more in store for her then she ever could have imagined. Who knew finding the truth could hurt so much?

A/N: It took me forever to get this chapter out so I hope you all enjoy it! You can all thank the lovely bettylove8 for getting me off my lazy ass long enough to post this chapter. Even a fabulously talented author like myself needs a good shove every once in awhile. =D

I'd planned on posting this last weekend, but I forgot about the ten page paper on Hemingway due in English. I had to pull an all-nighter to get it done, so the chapter delay was a result of me catching up on sleep. Mock all you want, but me and sleep have a very intimate relationship, and when we break up for a day or two, well let’s just say anything that breathes better stay clear of me...anyway... back to the story.



~ Ch. 4 ~

I use to believe that knowledge was power…the truth would set you free…
But as it turns out, I couldn't have been more wrong.

—Journal of Elizabeth Parker
****


I lingered between the state of consciousness and sleep with a vague sense of dread. It wasn't an unfamiliar feeling so I knew I'd had it before, though I couldn't remember when.


‘I’m forgetting something…'


The thought struck me with a certainty I'd only ever experienced in a lab, a place where all variables were within my control. But I couldn't, for the life of me, figure out what it was I’d forgotten.


Before I could dwell on it further, a voice I found similar to nails on a chalk board drifted into the backroom of the Crashdown, taking with it any remnants of sleep and successfully shutting down my thought process. Damn him...


"Rise and shine little gringa!"


And with those few words, my mind went blank. I opened my eyes to the all too familiar sight of our fried cook sashaying his way through the employees' entrance, snapping his fingers to the baseline pouring through his headphones. The sight would have made me laugh, if he hadn't been responsible for my current brain fart; and I hadn’t had the wind knocked out of me not two seconds later.


"Ommfffp…" Loosely translated, that meant; 'hey! watch where you throw your crap!' But as you can see, I went with the more eloquent choice.


"Jesus!" The man jumped backwards, quickly removing the backpack he'd thrown on top of me.


"Sorry! Didn't see ya there."


"Yeah right…" I muttered darkly, rubbing my back tenderly.


"I thought you were upstairs." He defended indignantly, swinging his locker open and pulling out his apron. "You know…where your bed is?"


"Ugghh…go away Jose." I mumbled, shoving my head deeper into the sofa cushions.


If the day was going to suck, the least I deserved was a few more minutes of sleep.


"Awwww come on, you know what they say, the early worm catches the…the…hey what do worms eat anyway?" He questioned, rubbing the back of his neck in confusion.


I laughed, the sound muffled, no doubt, from all the pillows. "Don't you mean birds?" Idiot.


He scoffed at me. "You're loca girl, worms don't eat no birds."


Okaaaaay.


"No…no they don't. You're right. What was I thinking?" I swear if my parents didn't love the guy so much, he'd be out of a job.


Speaking of which… "What are you doing here anyway Jose, you know we don't open today?"


"Chica our last day off was yesterday, which would make today…" He paused, waiting for me to fill in the blank.


Wait I knew this one...


...


...


Okay...queue mental stimulation; two plus two equals four; density equals mass over volume; there were approximately 206 bones in the human body...


And the diner was supposed to be closed for 6 days, which would make today—


"...Sunday?!" I groaned, throwing an arm over my eyes in despair. But then confusion hit me, so fast I probably would have landed on my ass had I not been laying done already.


My parents left two weeks ago for the convention in Albuquerque. I’d called them Monday, the night of the accident, to ask permission to keep the restaurant closed for the rest of the week while I helped the Whitman’s prepare everything for the funeral on Wednesday, and the night of the funeral I’d broken into the morgue, my parent's had been set to arrive the very next day, so...by my count, it should be Thursday.


This didn't make any sense. Either my mind was suffering severely from the lack of food, or I had finally lost it. How could it have been Sunday when I clearly remembered yesterday being Wednesday? Where the hell had those three days gone? Not to mention I had no idea why my body was aching like I'd just gone ten rounds with a sumo wrestler. Maybe the aliens had taken to beating me in my sleep or something?


"Your parents don't get back till around four, so we have to open. And since Michael apparently has PMS today, he switched his shift schedule with mine. So you, my lucky girl, get to have me all to yourself today. Aren't you special?" Jose smirked, flexing his arms indulgently and kissing each bicep.


"Words can't describe how special I feel." I scoffed, throwing the pillows away in frustration when I couldn't wade through the wild storm of confusion. I felt special alright, special-ed special.


"Well anyone who knows me is special by extension so don't go getting a big head or anything." He preened, throwing a kiss at his reflection as he adjusted the ties of his bandana.


"Jose go heat up the grill or something," I pleaded, turning over to lie on my back. "My head is pounding enough as it is."


"Whoa there Castro, what's the magic word."


I sighed. "Please go heat up the grill…"


"See," he smiled brightly, "was that so-"


"Now, Jose, before I go get that dirty love letter Agnes wrote you last Valentine’s day." I threatened, fighting to keep the grin off my face at the thought of Jose's not-so-secret admirer for the past five-years and counting.


He swirled around, eyes wide, "I could've sworn I burned that?"


"Dad and I made copies just in case you lovebirds want it as a keepsake when you finally decide to give in and get married."


"Is that so…?" He huffed, advancing on me with a look of determination that I was more than a little creeped out by. But this was Jose, and I rarely ever missed an opportunity to have my fair share of fun at his expense.


"My Dearest Jose," I sighed dreamily, placing a hand over my heart. "If you could only see, you and me were meant to be. There's a flutter in my chest, when I think of your hand on my-"


I stopped when I heard the sound of the kitchen door swinging shut followed by the sound of banging pots and pans, no doubt a technique the mortified cook thought would drown out my voice.


Getting my body off the couch felt damn near impossible as my whole body felt like one giant bruise, but I managed to get halfway up the stairs before the pain took over and I fell to my knees. And while I knelt there on the stairs, déjà vu hit; that’s when I noticed the clothes I’d worn Wednesday night...and the absence of weight in my left pocket.


The absence of weight in my left pocket . . .


And all I could think to say was, “Oh, shit...” Eloquence be damned.



* * * *

A/N: Are any of you scratching your head? Well if you are...good, you’re supposed to! As long as you understand that the loss of time is important...then you’re good.

Now go on and leave a review...you know you want to. Oh and I changed my banner, so let me know how you like it, I'll probably change it again so be on the look out!