Wiped Away (CC, M/L, ADULT) Part 5 - 3/31/09 [WIP]

[Kachie]

Title: Wiped Away
Author: Kachie
Rating: ADULT(eventually)
Pairings/Category: CC, M/L.
Disclaimer: Don’t own anything pertaining to Roswell, just having some fun.
Summary: Set in "The Departure" and alters from there
A.N: Based off of a challenge that I'm going to keep a secret so not to spoil the plot. . . or just in case my muse takes me away from it

Prologue

For a moment, the only thing felt was the coolness of his palm on her stomach.

Very briefly, cool china blue met distant amber. There was a hint of concern present, but as usual, half of his mind seemed to be elsewhere with most of his soul. His hands were always so cold whenever she managed to get him to touch her. There was never any warmth between them, never any heat, no fire. Although in her case, she wasn't surprised. How could you grow warm for someone when you've spent a lifetime forgetting how to feel. Her eyelids slid shut as his gaze panned downward. She began to focus her energy, her brow slightly furrowed.

Warping a mind hadn’t always come so easily to her. Basic skills always involved connecting. Find the target, establish a shallow connection, just enough to see through their eyes. One had to connect somewhat to the thoughts and emotions to be able to attain the realistic point of view. At first, connecting itself was a problem. As a small child, she was almost helpless to the constant craving for feelings. She was starved of emotions. Forming a connection gave her a taste of humanity and she had a difficult time resisting delving deeper. The “volunteers” never received a glimpse from her own soul. A blank slate has nothing to show. The brief stints into the hearts and minds of others were the only part of her childhood she could seemingly call happy. Disappearing into the consciousness of someone else was the closet thing to feelings she had. Although hindering more than helping her alien abilities, the connections did wonders for her acting ability. Drawing on the memories of her partners made playing the part of a normal girl a fair walk in the park. Unfortunately, her imitating proficiency led to the demise of these deep connections and instead brought lessons in control. Ironically, this partially stern portion of the training also gave her the first true feeling of her own. Being physically broken from a connection before getting in too deep brought pain. She never fought back because as heartbreaking as it was to lose a wealth of borrowed emotions, feeling one of her very own, albeit negative, seemed to make up for it. She eventually grew quite proficient at shallow connecting. They were wrong in thinking you had to touch to be able to do it.

She liked to think of the mind warping itself like an Etch a Sketch. Each mind, each view was like a brand new picture, some lines neat, some shaky. Her strong energy would from into hands, shaking the image into nothingness. An empty canvas ready for her hands to fill in a new scene. The longest lasting warps were the ones chock full of details. The more lines she provided, the more secure the image. It would only be removed with a vigorous shaking. A true long lasting warp took time and even more importantly, research. The less solidly the idea was imprinted inside her own head, the more concentration it took. Mind warping him had always been surprisingly easy. For the majority of the time, all she had to was lightly connect and flip to his fantasies. They were plentiful and always close to the surface. Replace the desired participant with herself, and voila! A new sketch. He would remember feeling the desire, the want. Her powers brought it into reality. He made it so easy for her that the only research left to do was a short biology film centered on the life cycle of a fetus. The only thing she wouldn’t, couldn’t, make him feel. . . was love. It was her one spite against duty. Even from a young age, against all her teachings, she knew. Love was sacred. She’d felt it from the minds of others. His own was strong, pure. She couldn’t stand having it to herself and knowing it was not real, fabricated. That being said, there was never any guilt involved in the process. This was her duty. This was what she was meant to do, meant to be. She wasn’t a monster.

She was a tool, never strong enough to be a handler, told what purpose she would serve. She had always been used as such, and there was never any reason to care otherwise. And yet, in the past year, whenever she turned from destiny, from her forsworn duty, somehow in the dark depths of her heart, a hot spark had flared. It had felt so good, so right. So. . . warm. It was tempting to give into it, to let that spark grow into a burning flame that would heat her soul for years to come. Her destiny had chose not to accept her, refused, so really, why not. But things abruptly changed. Suddenly destiny, duty, was back in the picture. The spark slowly but surely winked out of existence, leaving only vague ashes of what could have been in its place. She didn't feel happy. She didn't feel sad. The reemergence of duty and destiny had made her empty once more. She had gotten so used to life feeling empty, so it was almost too easy to ignore the feeling that it was wrong. History is doomed to repeat itself, right? They’re only humans. You didn’t really start to think you belonged here, did you? They aren’t your family. How could they really love you, you’ve just been playing the part. Biding your time until he finally came around, right? It was easy to cling to the desperation, that each task she set into motion, each step she took was meant to be. Ordained by her own past self.

Just for a moment, the only thing felt was the coolness of his palm. Then the flashes began.

The truth was about to be revealed. Somewhere, deep inside, the spark pulsated to life and she finally let herself embrace the most honest emotion she'd had in a while. Relief.


Tbc. . v

[Kachie]

A.N: This part was a little difficult to write. I'm finding myself trying to make Tess a sympathetic character rather than just a big bad. I don't know if that's coming across very well. But anyways, hope you like! Some dialogue taken from "The Departure"

"Max? I can't go." She watched Max slowly remove his hand from the glowing prism in the center of the granolith. Her stomach clenched slightly with trepidation. This could be a problem. Michael's words of finding home washed over her numb form. She could only imagine how they were effecting Max and Isabel.

Do something. Don't let them waver from duty. Things have gone too far to turn back now. If this doesn't happen, if you don't get him home, you will be less than worthless. If it weren't for Alex, maybe she could have-

Just one more. One last lie and the mission would be completed. They would leave, she would get to go home. She tried to ignore the small part of her that wondered how a place you've never been could be called home. Sure, she "remembered" a great deal of it, but knowing how she could twist the views of others, she wasn't entirely sure her own mind hadn't been twisted a bit itself. But again, it all came back to duty. Whether it turned out to be home or not, it was where she, he, they all belonged. Earth could never be home. She knew she wouldn't be able to stop Michael, but he was not completely necessary. Only the king and his sister were important. One more lie would do it. Then she would be free. Free to start a new life on Antar, free to become the person she always wondered if she could be. She never had any true illusions of retaining the crown. She was not to be queen. Kivar would take Isabel as his partner. Isabel, who was now a broken shell of her former self thanks to the murder of Alex. Thanks to Tess. In her secret guilt ridden heart, Tess somehow rationalized that giving her a kingdom would make up for this terrible deed. Isabel would have a purpose again, a mission, a duty. And even if you don't like your purpose, you could get used to it, maybe eventually even be happy about it. As for the king himself, well, sacrifices had to be made. It was his destiny to go back to his fallen kingdom. It was hers to get him there. She had sacrificed her entire life for this. She never had a choice. He was able to have seventeen years of freedom. He had a family. He had friends. He experienced love. Those seventeen years of happiness would have to suffice.

All these thoughts brought a slight tremmer to her hands as she watched Max turn to Isabel.
"I would understand."

One more lie. Must get the job done. If both of them are not present, Kivar will. . . Please, let me finish this.

"Max," the grimace was hardly fake, "the baby. . . something's. . .wrong." She bent slightly at the waist. Her blond curls swung forward, tickling the sides of her cheeks. "Can you. . .?" Her hand lightly touched her remarkably flat abdomen. He moved in front of her. She lifted her shirt, making the skin available for his cool touch. She began to concentrate her energy, ready to reinforce the terrible lie she had been forced to concoct.

Maybe she had overdone it and her powers were gone. Maybe it was the granolith itself. Maybe it was her own guilt. . . whatever it was, the mind warp wasn't working. The energy wasn't forming. There were no hands appearing to wipe it all away. Her connection to him was shallow, but she could already feel him diving in far too deep. Her walls were down. He was now inside. And in a moment, he would know everything.

The flashes began and she wasn't quite sure exactly what he was seeing, but she definitely felt the changes in him. She didn't need to open her eyes to see them happen, she felt them first hand. General concern was rapidly turning to shock. Shock soon was transformed into one part dispair, two parts disgust. But the emotion that eventually took over, that was too strong and far too quickly overpowered any others, was rage.

The hand still touching her abdomen suddenly pulsed with warmth and Tess felt herself being forcibly lifted off her feet. She slammed into the rear wall of the granolith, and slumped to the floor with a soft moan.

Almost every step of the plan had been too easy to achieve. She should never have involved Alex. If only she had been able to take it up with the entire group. If only they had trusted her enough for that to have been a feasible option. If only they had never befriended those humans in the first place, then maybe she could have convinced them to go home without all the deceit. As a cohesive whole, maybe they could have devised a plan against Kivar that would have kept them all safe. But all the maybes in the world wouldn't save her now. She'd been caught. And truth be told, all she had done, forced to or not, was extremely sick and twisted. She deserved whatever punishment he could dish out, even if it was death. Afterall, isn't death almost another type of freedom? Maybe she would be born again. Maybe she would finally be able to live one life right.

"How much time is left?" Her now slited eyes locked onto Max. His back was to her, the muscles visibly tense. His right hand clenched Isabel's arm tightly. She tilted her gaze to Isabel's face. She took in the confusion, the worry, the concern. . and quickly shut her eyes again.

"About seven minutes," Michael replied after glancing at the series of lights above the door. "What's going on, Max?"

"You both need to get out of here. I have something to take care of."

"But, Max! What about the baby? You can't leave without me!" So she was going to come anyway. One more mistake to add to the list.

"There is no baby. We're not going anywhere." The response came out rapidly and then for a moment, the chamber was completely silent. There was a soft hiss as the granolith's doorway slid open. She could vaguely hear their footsteps as they exited and left her to him. No baby, no more sympathy. They didn't need to know any details, they knew Max. They knew him and trusted him. They were family. In that second, Tess had never felt more alone.

It took him three strides to arrive at her feet. She instinctively curled her limbs closer to her body, her arms banded around her legs.

"Open your eyes." Tess was unable to ignore the command, he was her king afterall. He stood over her, tall and intimidating. The connection was broken. She had no idea if any of the rage had dispersed. He moved, she winced, and suddenly he was crouched in front of her. The mere look in his eyes nearly shattered her on the spot. Destiny and duty were long gone, only remorse and guilt left in their wake. "Why did you do it? How-" his firm tone turned hoarse, "how could you ruin everything like this, Tess?" His jaw clenched. "How could you betray us? Your friends, your-"

"Friends?" Her chin lifted as she softly cut him off. "I have no friends, and I had no choice."

"There's always a choice!" His shout echoed through the chamber. "We make our own destinies." The following jumped down to a whisper but the intensity failed to falter. "We make our own destinies."

She was slowly but surely cracking into a thousand pieces. Friends, he had thought they were all her friends. A fleeting image of Kyle's smiling face slowly sailed past her mind's eye. Her guilt intensified. Why had she been so weak? Max was right, why couldn't she have taken charge of her own destiny? But the answer was the same as it had always been. "Destiny is all I've ever known."

"You know that's not a good enough excuse. You know what I have to do."

"Yes," she said softly. "But before you do, I want you to understand." He tried to turn away, but it was too late. Her gaze caught his and she was in. Tess made a connection and proceeded to give Max her history. She would show him the life she was forced to lead ever since she left her pod, or rather, since she was taken from it after they deserted her. She knew it wouldn't matter in the long run. He was sure to kill her once it was finished, but at least he'd know what forced her course of actions. And maybe, just maybe, he would believe that she was sorry.

TBC. .

[Kachie]

AN: Thanks again for all of your input! I still haven't decided if Tess is going to bite it. But before she does or doesn't, she is going to mess with everyone's minds at least one more time. . . but maybe not in the way you might imagine. Anyways, here's some Max =)

Max never angered easily. It wasn't his style. Max considered himself a thinker. Everyone else considered him to be a brooder. When things got tough he didn't fly into a rage and run off like Michael or turn cold and sometimes just plain nasty to others as did Isabel on occasion. No, Max hid. Max hid away in his room convinced that if he could just listen to that Counting Crows song just one more time, all the answers would magically appear.

After that fateful night last fall, brooding suddenly wasn't enough. Liz had betrayed him. Liz Parker, his soulmate, the girl he had given his heart to, hell, the girl had always had his heart, had taken that very important possession and proceeded to grind it under her foot, again and again. She broke his heart when she left him on the day he and the others found out their supposed "destiny." She left him alone to deal with the aftermath of the white room on his own. Yes, on his own, because subjecting Isabel and Michael to his screaming in the middle of the night was bad enough. There was no reason to go into the harsh details of his experience. He refused to put them through that. But he understood why she did it. She probably felt lost and confused, unsure of her place in the world, or rather, his world. And he got that. Oh boy, did he get that. She broke his heart, but he was wiling to wait her out. He was willing to play out every CD he had until the crows came home. And when she did come back, after a month of almost losing hope, Max felt, no knew, he was close to getting her back. And then, without warning, everything he knew and was sure of was thrown out the window. No, simply brooding wasn't cutting it anymore. He had needed a focus, anything to give him a reason to keep on going. Anything to keep the whole new slew of nightmares away. All of the alien intrigue could not have come at a better time. Not only was it time consuming, it was just dangerous enough to give him an excuse to keep her away, to keep her safe. For as much pain as she had caused, he would die before letting anything happen to her.

But who was he kidding, really. Stay away from Liz? For good? Never. It was impossible. Seeing her in New York City. . . She saved him. She claimed to want normal, and yet there she was again. Saving him. Putting herself back into the alien abyss, for him. That warm and sunny afternoon when he'd returned, he asked her about that night one last time. He couldn't help but notice that she didn't give her answer verbally. And besides that, try as she might to dissuade him, block him, Max could still feel her. He had always noticed her, but once he was able to fully connect to her, well, there was no going back. He was wrong when he thought it only happened when things got intense. Touching definitely made it easier, but he realized when she came back from Florida that he could literally feel her presence when she walked into a room. If he concentrated, he could even get a vague sense of what emotions she was going through. He sensed what he could only place as maybe uncertainty, or a holding back that afternoon when her dark eyes seemed to stare through him as she nodded. He could sense that Liz was keeping something from him. A little voice was always quick to add that with a little practice, he would be able to find out her secret. Just a little more concentration, a little more focus, and he'd be in her head, seeing what she sees, feeling what she feels, and most importantly, knowing what she knows. But Max, being Max, would never, could never betray her trust like that, no matter how much the supposed truth was killing him. Instead, he abandoned staying away in favor of just being her friend. Maybe one day she would trust, how could she not trust him, enough to tell him what really happened that night. Maybe she didn't have enough faith in him, but he would have faith in Liz. Faith that in the end, it would turn out all right. So he quietly suffered through Sean DeLuca, tried to ignore the ache he always had inside to touch her, until Prom. And just when it seemed like the time had come for the world to right itself again, instead it all went to hell.

Max had never felt true rage until he viewed the true persona behind Tess Harding. Every kiss, every intimate encounter had been a trick, a manipulation. The only thing she didn't completely have an underhanded move in was the kiss at Prom. It was a weak moment for him. His heart was freshly broken for the second time and Tess was there. It was a moment of comfort, nothing more. He left her alone on that bench, let her know there was nothing more than friendship to be found between the two of them. Tess played her part impeccably well. She had claimed to understand. He was just upset. He didn't have to worry, Tess knew that ship had sailed. Oh, but he should have worried. He should have thought, he should have realized. . .

To the reawakened Max, the previous two weeks were a blur. The only relief he felt was in knowing that he was right in feeling the way he did the entire time. Between his own feelings and the ones Tess had planted into him, Max felt like he was being torn apart. Nothing made sense anymore. He was saying things, doing things, to people he loved that he couldn't dream of doing in a thousand years. What he had said to Isabel. . .He had memories of making love to a woman he had no interest in, and yet, at the same time, something inside was telling him that he wanted her, that he desired her. He had been so confused, but at the same time, was not allowed to be. Max was supposed to be their king, how could he not know his own heart, his own mind. He felt like he had no control, and that only made him grasp harder onto the reins. He was slowly but surely falling apart and everyone he trusted was deserting him, leaving him. And who was left to pick up the pieces? Tess. Just like she had planned it.

But now he knew the truth. Through her eyes he viewed countless visions of himself sitting blankly in front of her. The settings changed rapidly - the eraser room, his bedroom, the park bench, her bedroom, the observatory - but his expression was the same. His eyes reflected the empty slate his mind was becoming, ready to be reprinted with whatever she desired.

And so Max felt rage. Rage at Tess, yes of course, but more so at himself.

How could he have let his guard down so easily?
What had made him such an easy target?
Was he really that weak?
If he had only known, if he had just opened his damn eyes and really Looked, maybe Alex would still be alive. Maybe Isabel wouldn't hate him. True, there was no baby, there had never been a Max and Tess, they no longer had a reason to leave Earth. . . but the damage was done. And Max had no idea how he was ever going to make it up to them.

All of these thoughts raced through Max's head as he approached Tess. The anger was good at keeping the tremor of fear from his hands. He had never killed before. His main power was healing, it wasn't in his nature to cause pain. But it had to be done, right? There was no excuse for anything that she did, right?

"But before you do, I want you to understand." He tried to turn away, but her piercing blue gaze once again caught his own. Max felt the instant pang of defeat. Even when he had the upper hand, he was snagged in her trap once more. He hastily threw up what he thought of as mental shields in preparation for the onslaught of a mind warp, but to his surprise, it never came. Instead came a rush of images that soon turned his rage into a broad mix of disgust, envy, anger, wonder, and most of all, pity.

With a bright splash of light, it was over as quickly as it had begun. As Max looked down at her bowed head, only one thought came to his mind: What on Earth would he do with her now?

TBC. . .

[Kachie]

AN: So my mind has come up with way too many possibilities for where this should go, and when I finally decided on the main course of action, I realized that it has pretty much forced me to abandon the challenge. What was originally intended was this:

#94

What if instead of Liz, Maria and Kyle showing up to prevent the pod squad from going to their doom, they figured it out for themselves. Say the four aliens are in the granolith chamber ready to depart when Michael announces that he wants to stay. In order to get him to come and to make sure that Max and Isabel don't change their minds either, Tess pretends that the baby is sick. Max connects with the baby. But it what Tess doesn't realize is that they can't be mindwarped in the granolith chamber and instead of 'connecting with the baby' Max connects with Tess and sees what she did to Alex and that she's not pregnant. He confronts her and Tess tries to mindwarp them again. The others figure out what she's doing and there's a struggle in which Tess is killed.

But although Tess's powers don't work in the granolith chamber, being there amplifies them. So instead of mindwarping Max, Isabel and Michael to forget about what she did and to forget Liz, Maria, Alex and Kyle she has mindwarped the humans instead.

Max, Isabel and Michael return to Roswell to find that Liz, Maria, Kyle and Jim have no memory of their true identity. As far as they're concerned, aliens are just a dumb myth.

Although Max, Isabel and Michael are devastated they decide it's for the best. After what happened to Alex, they don't want to risk losing another person they love and not being involved with the others is the best way to keep them safe.

The problem is that Liz and Kyle are developing powers that they can't explain and Maria is pregnant with a baby whose conception she can't explain.
-

It's, without a doubt, an intriguing an idea. (obviously, because I took the challenge), but unfortunately my muse won't let me abandon the new direction she's thrust upon me. I'm such a failure. =P

Anyways, thanks again for the feedback. . . Max is about to make a decision and I'm hoping that what's about to happen wasn't able to be predicted. Tess's history and what Max saw will not be revealed at this time, I'm saving that for later. (partially because I don't exactly have it all planned out yet. . . ) Hope you all enjoy!

-----------------------------

Another minute had ticked by and he still had yet to say a word. His amber eyes, sometimes so bright they fairly glowed, had darkened to a dull brown. They panned upward to meet her and she knew that what he had seen was not enough to make it all okay again. But to be honest, she hadn't really expected it to. "You're really going to do it, aren't you?" She gulped, swallowing the huge lump that now seemed to be eternally lodged in her throat. "You're really going to kill me." Max sighed in response and seemed to physically deflate in front of her. The only other time she had seen him this defeated was the night she had found him on that park bench.

"Do I really have any other choice?" he muttered softly. "You killed Alex, Tess. You lied, betrayed all of us. You manipulated me! Made me think that I was going to be a father, that you an I had--You had a choice to make, and you chose wrong. Yes, you didn't mean to kill him, yes you felt that you had no choice," he rubbed a tired hand over his eyes then let it ease back to rake through his dark hair, "and yes, you've led a crappy life. But even if I did manage to forgive you, and that's a big if, how do you think the others would take it?"

Tess was silent. He was right. Even if she did manage to make it out of this granolith alive, there was no way the others would never find out the truth. And they would make her pay for it, without a doubt. "You could always just let me go back to Antar," she let a faint glimmer of hope inflect her tones, "they would never have to know that-"

"I'm not a saint, Tess. Nor am I stupid." He got to his feet, glaring down at her once again, intimidating her once again, before stalking towards the center of the room. "I let you go back to Antar, and then what? You tell Kivar everything about us, and because you couldn't bring us to him, he'll come here?" Max voice roise with each word, the tension heightening. "I still can't believe you made a deal with him-"

"It wasn't my idea, it was-"

"Yes, Nacedo, I know." Disgust colored his tone. "Talk about having choices, now I really don't have one. I have to kill you, Tess. And now because of what you've shown me, if it's all true, I won't be able to go through with it without feeling somewhat like a murderer for the rest of my life!"

The whirling lights glazed over his face, revealing the wetness in his eyes. He was always so sensitive.

"Haven't you tortured me enough?" he whispered. "I wish you never came to Roswell," he began to stalk towards her once more, "Hell, I wish you didn't exist." Tess found herself unconsciously pressing further back against the wall. "I wish there was no such thing as Antar, I wish I was really just a--" The sound of pounding footsteps on hard rock echoed into the chamber.

Human, Tess mentally filled in, you wish you were just a human.

"Max! Let me go, Michael!" The shout came from down in the pod chamber leading to the granolith. It was her, Liz. It was always her. It would seem that for a least a short time, Tess had a reprieve. "Let me go, she killed Alex, Michael! She killed Alex!" The panic in her voice bordered on hysteria. Max turned from Tess with what she was sure to be the intent to close out Liz and whoever else was on the way from the situation. It was time for yet another choice. Should she quietly accept the fate destiny had led her to and let him destroy her? Or should she fight? As luck might have it, Tess was saved from deciding between the two when her eyes rested on the glowing lights above the door. One minute left.

Max was about three feet away from the door when she stood. She sprinted towards the center of the granolith and placed one small hand on the dark triangular prism hanging from the center. It reflected her pale face back to her. She didn't look anything like the proud queen she remembered nor like the girl she had pretended to be for all these years. She looked like a child; a small lost and wounded child, longing for a place in any world, but doomed to never find one. A pulse of dark clouds seemed to burst from the area of glass her palm touched. It twisted upon itself as it extended itself within the prism, swirling and colliding with bright blues and purples.

"Tess! No!" She tilted her head at his shout, watched as he turned his powerfully built form towards her. She stared and all at once, he stopped. No, time itself seemed to have halted. One strong arm had reached out to her. That arm now hung perfectly frozen in mid air. She could still feel the power of the granolith rushing through her body and finally took the chance to focus on the thoughts that had been rushing through her head since Max told her what he wished, what she wished. Forget duty, forget destiny, forget wanting to save her own life. . . deep inside, Tess longed to save their lives. She wished she could make them forget everything alien about themselves, forget Tess, forget Nasedo, forget Antar. There was such good in Max, such good in all of them and anything that was wrong with their lives was caused because of not who they were, but what they were. If only she could fix things. If only she had the power to go back and make it right.

These and so many like desires vibrated strongly throughout her entire being. Tess had run to the center of the granolith with the original intention of running away, of leaving Earth to take whatever cards her failed duty would deal out to her. But as soon as her flesh met the cool glass, it was as if every forced motive was ripped from her. All that was left was the very strong desire, need to make it all better. All that was left was the real Tess, the one normally hidden far too deep on the inside. And all she wanted to do was somehow make amends. To go back and make it up to these people by being the person she truly was meant to be instead of the one she had been forced to become.

There was another strong surge from the prism and as time unglued itself, Tess found herself being pulled from the inside towards the glass. The prism put out a strong burst of light and she was suddenly encased within it's solid walls, looking down at Max's horrified face. It had seemed she had screwed everything up once again. Typically, really.

No sound came from the granolith when she disappeared; no rumbling, no shaking. Very briefly, the prism shone with a pure blue light, Max had to close his eyes against it. And then, there was nothing. The prism hung dark. . .and empty.

"Max!" Liz had rushed into the room, Michael coming soon after with a slight limp resulting from the harsh kick he had received to his shin. Her hand came up to touch his back as she stared up at the empty prism. "Max," she grasped his shoulder, yanking him around to face her. "Max, where is Tess?" His haunted gaze met hers shortly before looking down in defeat.

"She's gone."

* * *

She wasn't aware of how much time had passed as she traveled within the granolith. The choice to run for it hadn't felt like much of one really, more like an instinctive response. Fight or flight. It wasn't painful being in the prism, just, well, odd. Her limbs felt almost encased in a warmth that she assumed was supposed to be soothing. Maybe to ease the body through the process of traveling through space at the speed of light. Looking out, she saw nothing of what she had expected to see on the journey. . .stars, distant planets, other galaxies. . . there was only a confusing mixture of colors and shapes. A low hum filled her ears. She closed her eyes in mild fear. What was to await her when she finally arrived? She did not complete her duty. Her mission was a wash. She was going to arrive as a failure, in both body and soul. She had escaped the punishment from her king, but she was suddenly horrified at the possibilities that awaited her when she got "home."

Without warning, the low hum ceased, and the odd sensation of being encased in warmth disappeared. She had arrived. Tess slowly opened her eyes, expecting, well, she still wasn't quite sure what to expect. Would she be presented with the colorful landscape from her memories? Would she immediately be taken into custody by whatever form of a guard Kivar had at his disposal? Apparently, it wasn't anything to fear just yet. She looked around at the now empty granolith. Was there an identical one on Antar? She gave a soft sigh and took a slow walk around the now dark prism. Maybe the granolith wasn't really a spaceship, just a giant teleporter. That would explain why she felt that not too much time had gone by during her trip.

"Enough stalling," she muttered. Tess forced her body towards the exit. "It's now or never, Tess. Time to find out" she moved through the doorway, "what destiny has in store for-" her voice faded out as she took in her surroundings. "The pod chamber?" Her voiced echoed through the near empty, save for the pods themselves, cave. Her breathes were coming faster now. In, out. In, in, out. In, in, out. She rushed towards what she remembered as the exit, her heart threatening to burst from her chest. The giant slab of rock moved aside with a wave from her hand and Tess once again found herself bathed in the familiar New Mexico sunshine. She was still on Earth. How was this possible? A quick glance around revealed no one. No Max, no Liz, no Michael, no Isabel. . . no one, she was alone, alone and somehow alive and still on Earth.

Tess mouth hung halfway open as her wide eyes surveyed the still familiar landscape. All at once, her knees buckled and she slumped to the ground. There were no clear choices to make, no one to guide her, no one to avoid. . . she was confused, shocked, and alone. Alone. When the darkness appeared in her peripheral vision and tunneled slowly towards the center of her sight, she invited it, thanked it for coming. Things would make sense once she woke up again, Tess was sure of it. In the meantime, her eyelids fluttered closed and she welcomed the blackness of her faint.

TBC. . .

[Kachie]

AN: Just a quick little update. Can I just say that I can't believe how much I seem to want to get into Tess's head? I honestly never thought I would have the will or the want to ever write something from her point of view. . . ah well. Anyways, for those of you who guessed that Tess unwittingly used the Granolith as a time machine, congrats! Your are correct. The next update will reveal exactly what point in time she ended up in. Enjoy!

When Tess had finally awoke, the night sky was on it's way. The sinking sun cast a warm glow over the New Mexico landscape. A false sense of security really, she thought as a cool breeze came over her. Shivering slightly, she got to her feet and headed back towards the entrance to the pod chamber. A quick wave of her hand, and Tess was once again inside her birthplace. She hummed softly while walking slowly towards the pods, giving them the close examination she had failed to pursue when first she had arrived.

All four pods hung in the same place they always had. And just as Tess had always seen them, they hung empty, the outter shells burst and in tatters. She quickly found herself frozen in front of what had been her own pod. As always, she wondered not only why she had not come out at the same time as the others, but even more importantly, why they left her alone. Why had they left her to Nacedo. What if they hadn't? Would she still have become the evil bitch she was positive they now thought of her as? What if she had been adopted with Max and Isabel? On that note, what if she grew up thinking of Max as a brother?

Her laugh echoed across the chamber, but soon sobered as Tess couldn't help but realize that thinking of him in that way, as a brother, as family, rather than a potential lover, was quite the opposite of horrifying. Surprisingly, the thought itself was in fact comforting, appealing even. The way he took care of Isabel, the way he took care of Michael. . . she could have been taken care of like that with unquestionable trust and love. And not even just considering how Max could be, but the other two as well. They were all a family. They were fiercely protective of each other, a solid unit. She had a taste of it with the Valentis, if you negate the sometimes less than sisterly affection that would sometimes arise within her towards Kyle. For those few months, Tess had a family, a unit of her own. They weren't perfect by any means, but for a short while, they were hers. And on a lot of those nights with her surrogate family, the happier she felt, the more she wondered how she got there. Tess wasn't alone on this planet, and yet she was always kept separate from her real family. She was finally getting a chance to feel what it was like to belong, and yet, it angered her to know that if only they hadn't left her, she could have had a place with them this whole time. Why her? Why did they leave her? Why did they leave her for him to take and do with as he pleased?

"That's it, Tess," she muttered to herself, "back to the shoulda, woulda, couldas." And none of them ever mattered. They should not have left her. He should not have taken her. She would have belonged. They would have loved her. She could have been someone better. She could of. . . but it always came back to the same thought. You can't change the past. What's done is done. Shoulda woulda couldas could be a lovely distraction, but you always have to come back to reality. It is what it is. Deal with it.

Tess walked back towards the exit, the rock slab still lying to the side. Night had fallen. The stars always shone so brightly in the desert, but she couldn't find the heart to look up. As a little girl, she had been fascinated by the stars. He told her that her home was up there. He told her that up there was where she belonged. Maybe he knew that on the countless nights that he left her alone, that she would look up at the sky, look at home, and be comforted. That on those lonely nights, and frankly on most other ones as well, before she laid her head to pillow, Tess would go up to the window and wish. She would look up at the night sky and stare at the stars until her eyes would water and the glows merged into a giant twinkling blur, and wish. Almost every night, she wished on every single one of those stars, hoping one, just one, would hear her pleas and take her home where she belonged. Tess sighed and gestured the slab closed. She had stopped wishing a long time ago. After all, what good were wishes when you were placed on the path of destiny. What you were meant to do always seemed to trump even her best wishes.

She moved away from the entrance and curled herself up in the corner to the right of the pods. Her position was not chosen arbitrarily. Where she sat gave her a fair warning if anyone decided to intrude, be it from the desert or the granolith. Her arms clasped tightly around her legs, her teeth beginning a slight chatter. Her muscles soon grew sore from her tense position. Tess was sure at any moment the door would open and in they would come. They would realize she had never left. They would come back and give her what she deserved. She was almost afraid to close her eyes for the fear that she would awaken to view him standing over her, that same shattered look his eyes. The look she had put there. Luckily, sleep had decided to elude her for the moment, the earlier faint had seemingly wiped the exhaustion from her form. It would be some time before her eyelids would lost the battle drift closed. In the meantime, she planned for tomorrow. She planned for everything that could possibly lay before her when she awoke. Hours slowly passed, and even as the thoughts of tomorrow slowly faded to silence, the shoulda, woulda, and the couldas continued to plague her mind, endlessly circling around and around until they eventually followed Tess into her dreams.

TBC. . .

[Kachie]

Late morning found Tess walking steadily down Roswell Bypass, hoping she'd soon find a cross street that would lead her back into town. She'd only been at it for what she guessed was about an hour, but already her feet her beginning to bother her. The seemingly comfortable and fashionable shoes encasing them were starting to pinch. On one hand, Tess was looking forward to the end of this journey. . . but on the other hand, where would she be at the end? She had lingered outside of the pod chamber without any real purpose for a few hours that morning but as much as she feared what she would find when she eventually did venture out, the growling of her stomach forced her to acknowledge the fact that any continued stay in the desert would not be wise. But what would be waiting for her? Where would she go? By now she was positive the news of her betrayal had reached the Valentis. . . maybe she could break into the house she and Nacedo used to share, the last she'd checked it still stood empty.

Her foot had found a small pebble, her eyes zeroed in on it as it bounced off one foot, shot forward and almost came to a stop before it came in contact with the other foot that would send it forward once more. Ok, so wherever place she did end up, she would have to go into hiding for a while. But for how long? And, now that she really began to think about it, why go back to Roswell in the first place? Maybe she should turn around, head towards California or something. . . she always had wanted to see the Pacific. . . Tess's train of thought suddenly became derailed at the sound of an approaching vehicle.

Her heart unclenched as the tractor trailer sped by shooting up giant clouds of dust in it's wake, dust that momentarily shielded the vehicle traveling a few feet behind. But the air soon settled, and although initially the beige SUV with it's intimidating antlers was a familiar sight, once more, Tess's muscles tensed and later she would swear her heart had ceased its beat. Was he here for her? Did he know? He had to know. The SUV had been gradually slowly, eventually pulling over to the right side of the road, halting about fifteen feet in front of her. Instinct told her to make a break for it, regardless of there being nowhere to break to. The door on the driver's side was kept well oiled and made nary a sound when it opened. One leather booted foot touched the ground and Tess could feel her eyes grow wide while her lower lip began to tremble. All she could envision was his once warm blue eyes staring coldly at her. He would grasp her arms, throw her up against the side of the SUV. She would most likely be cuffed but would he drag her to the station? No, probably not. He'd be taking her to them, to Max. And Max would no doubt finish off what he had meant to do before she had managed to escape.

- - - -

As much as Jim Valenti loved a good bust - breaking up rowdy parties, pulling a gun to save the day - what he actually enjoyed the most was a long patrol. As sheriff, it wasn't necessarily his duty to make the daily drives down 285 South and across the Roswell Bypass for troublemakers and speed demons. This task was generally dolled out to the deputies fresh out of the academy, kept them busy and out of the way. But Roswell was different. Highway patrol meant being out here in a vast area of seemingly nothingness. But Jim knew better. There were always things to be found in the desert. The desert was dry, uninhabitable. . . and yet, the strangest things always managed to turn up there. Later he would find it almost laughable that he was thinking just that when he first saw her.

"Now, what do we have here. . . "The slight female figure carried nothing but the clothes on her back, the wind occasionally tossing her blond curls in a flurry around her head as she trudged along. He watched as she gave a small and startled jump when the truck he had been steadily following rushed by. Abandoning his surveillance of the truck, Jim gently applied the break and skillfully maneuvered his vehicle to the side of the road, a safe distance from the girl's now frozen form. He kept his eyes on her as he exited the driver's seat. The girl had yet to move an inch, just starred blankly at him with, he noticed as he got closer, almost unearthly blue eyes.

"Miss?" Jim now stood in front of the girl, starting to grow worried over the speed of the breathes coming in and out through her halfway open mouth. "Miss? Are you alright? Miss?" He was deciding whether or not to snap his fingers or wave a hand in front of her face when the girl roused from her almost trance-like state. The blond ringlets swung back and forth in a wide arc as she swiftly shook her head from side to side. "Miss?" He tentatively placed a hand on her shoulder. "Do you need some help?" He tried to keep his voice soft and soothing. She looked to be around his son's age but reminded him almost of a small child with those wide blue eyes of hers, a child who was lost, lost and afraid. Her eyes slowly panned over to the hand resting lightly against her sweater covered skin and then slowly back to his face. Poor thing, she was trembling. Jim was about to take his hand back when she spoke.

"Sheriff. . ?" The voice was light, hesitant. No, not hesitant, fearful.

He bent slightly at the knees to meet the level of her gaze. "That's right, miss. I'm the sheriff," his left hand tapped lightly on the tin star pinned the left side of his blue denim shirt. He gave her what he hoped was a reassuring smile. "Jim Valenti, sheriff of county Roswell, New Mexico." His right hand left her shoulder and came down to extend itself for a hand shake. "And you would be?" All at once her trembling stopped. Her eyes were now glued to the hand offered out to her. "Miss. . ? Can you tell me who you are?" The words came out slowly now, as if he was really talking to a small child or someone new to the English language. For a moment he could swear her lips took the shape of a small smile, the ends curling upwards slightly, before the lower lip started it's tremblings once more. He dropped his hand to his side as her chin tilted back up towards her him. Her large eyes still gave the appearance of confusion but her gaze held steady. "Can you tell me who you are?" He repeated gently. "Do you know how you got here?"

"I," she paused to clear her throat. "No, I don't. I don't. . . remember anything," she eventually replied in a halting and somewhat mystified voice.

"Nothing?" He felt immediate and natural concern right away but was almost surprised at the fierce and sudden protectiveness he felt for the weary girl who was lost in more ways than one. "I know this is stressful, but if you can, think as hard as you can," their eyes connected, "anything, anything at all." She shook her head back with obvious dejection. The poor thing, he thought once again as he glanced quickly at her clothes, searching for details. They were rumpled, stained with dust from the desert. She'd definitely been out here for a while. "Well, don't you worry yourself too hard." His hand went reassuringly back to her shoulder, cautiously beginning to guide her towards the SUV. "We'll head on over to the station, get some food in you and who knows, maybe it'll all come back-"

"Wait." She paused, a shaking smile beginning to grow. "I think I remember my name," this came out slowly, small hope evident in her tone.

"Really, now." He smiled back down on her. "Well, that's certainly a start," he continued to guide her towards the passenger side of the vehicle. "So what am I going to be calling you, miss?" He opened the door and gave her a hand to boost her up into the seat.

"My name is," her eyes left his and gave a confident stare through the front windshield towards the open road, "Ava." She turned back towards him, her smile brighter, a light mist glazing her bright blue eyes. "My name is Ava."

TBC. . .

[Kachie]

A.N: woot! I actually got some sympathy for Tess.
Disclaimer: borrowing lyrics from Dave Matthews Band's "Crush"



September 10th, 1999

Lovely lady
Let me drink you please
I won't spill a drop, no, I promise you

Friday afternoon was really the worst day out of the bunch. School let out and being that is was the end of the week, there were no sports practicing, few clubs meeting, and this also being the small town of Roswell, the most popular hangouts were either here or Senor Chows. During the summer break, there was almost no bad day to come, no period of time in her schedule that would find him in anything other than his booth, ordering nothing but the usual, ordering the usual from no one but her. But then school inevitably had to start up again and Max found himself in the exact position he was coming to find himself in every Friday afternoon for the past four Fridays: jammed into the corner stool at the counter of the Crashdown Cafe. The only other option meant being served by Agnes which unless you enjoyed being part of a glare-fest any time you placed an order, made the counter the only feasible choice. If only Isabel didn't insist that he drive her home first, he could have made it here before the crowd hit, before his place was taken. It took nearly all his will power not to swivel to the right and start his own personal glare-fest at the body currently occupying his booth. Kyle Valenti. Max rolled his straw's disgarded paper roughly between his thumb and forefinger, his heated gaze focusing on the coffee pot perculating behind the counter. He unconsciously hummed along to the Dave Matthew's song playing over the radio.

The more I want you
Come on you know you crush me

She laughed.

It's crazy I'm thinking
Just knowing that the world is round

The sound was soft and on the husky side, but it cut clearly to him through the crowded room. Of course she'd be laughing. Kyle Valenti's a funny guy. A funny guy saying something funny to the girl who was supposed to be waiting on him. The straw's paper was now clenched tightly in his fist. The girl who would be waiting on him if he was in his normal booth, the one that the idiot-yet somehow appearing charming to girls- jock had taken from him. And from that stolen booth, Kyle Valenti was also using his vile thieving ways to take Max's view of the most beautiful girl in the world who was now leaning casually against the side of the previously stated stolen booth, the pen in her hand rapidly tapping against her legs that despite her short stature, seemed to go on for miles and--

"Yeah, I don't know what she sees in him either."

Max gave a slight wince at the sound of Maria DeLuca wry tone. He slowly rotated the stool until he came face to face with her at the counter.

"Kyle's a nice guy," he silently congratulated himself on the calm response. No one knew how he really felt about Liz Parker, well, no one except Michael and Isabel but they knew everything about him. But people like Maria? No way. He was one cool guy, kept his cards well hidden, they had no idea what he was really thinking-

"Killing you, isn't it." She leaned on the edge of the counter, her chin in hand, lips pursed with sympathy. No flys on you, Maria, he thought wryly. But just because she was right didn't mean he had to acknowledge it. Seeming to hear his thoughts anyway, Maria let out a small sigh. "Ok, ok, so it's not killing you. You're A-OK with Liz dating some other guy. And there's no possible way you've been secretly panting after her since like, elementary school." She slid a plate of Space Fries in front of him, setting a bottle of tobasco sauce next to it with a clink.

"Right." He gave her a half smile and reached for the bottle.

Maria picked up a glass behind the counter and casually used a towel to dry the insides, any excuse to relax for even a second on an afternoon like this. "You know, it's really too bad you don't, you know, like her like that or anything. . . " Max obviously knew bait when he saw it, but managed a casual shrug as he began to munch on his fries. "I mean, don't get me wrong, Kyle's cute and funny and all. . . and Liz doesn't seem to mind his um, lip technique." At least that got her some tense shoulders. "But I guess I always saw her with someone a little more serious." She turned back towards Max, placing the glass back underneath the counter. "You know, tall, dark, handsome. . mysterious even." She raised her eyebrows and smirked. "Thought you had potential, Evans. . . you sure I'm not right?"

"Me?" He gestured towards himself with a fry, a drop of sauce fell onto the plate. "Mysterious? I think maybe you're wearing that antennae a bit too tightly these days." Maria rolled her eyes.

"Ok, ok, I can take a hint. But," she leaned towards him, "you might want to cut down on the staring just to be on the safe side, buddy." She cocked her head towards his stolen booth. "Otherwise someone might, you know, get the wrong idea." And with a cheeky wink, Maria left him at the counter with a now suddenly unappetizing meal. Without warning, he felt himself automatically swivelling the stool back towards Liz. He grabbed the counter with one hand, immediately halting the progression.

What was he doing here anyway? Why did he do this to himself day after day? And he thought he was being sneaky? Well, at least it seemed he could count on Maria to keep it to herself. If she'd noticed his behavior for this long already and had still kept silent, Max didn't think he had too much to worry about. Although a small part of him wondered if it would really be so bad for Liz to know how he felt. There was just something about Liz Parker, something that made him want to spill every hidden truth. Even from a young age, he had this gut feeling that Liz would understand. But no matter how many countless fantasies he had constructed around her, reality was a bitter and necessary pill he was forced to swallow day after day. There was no way she would fall for someone like him. They were just too. . . different. He pushed his half empty plate to the side and reached for his wallet.

"Done already?" She smiled at him over the milk shakes machine. Her dark her hung loose today, a rarity when she was waitressing. During school though, it framed her face. He often found himself daydreaming what if would be like to run his fingers though it. It just. . it always looked so. . . soft. He looked up to meet her eyes and shyness uncontrollably took over his form. Why did this always happen? He had finally gotten to the point where he could speak coherently to her during school after a month of bio lab, but when she smiled like that. . . at him. When her focus was totally on him instead of test tubes and lab reports, he just couldn't help clamming up. On some level, he almost knew he was forcing the shyness on himself. It was safer to be silent, quiet. After all, if he really did get close to her, the odds of telling her the truth would increase. And to reveal that simply on the chance that she might accept him? It was just too risky. Isabel and Michael were more important than his romantic feelings.

"Um, yeah, I uh," he stood up slowly from the stool, "guess I just wasn't that hungry today."

She laughed as she slid the metal cup from underneath the machine. "Yeah, madhouse Friday doesn't really stimulate my appitite either." Her dark eyes flit from his to somewhere on the other side of the cafe. "Yes, sir! Shake's on it's way!" Her eyes met his again and she gave a comical eye roll which he smiled softly at. "Back to work! Unless you get another craving for space-tacular food, I guess I'll see ya Monday!"

"Yeah, Monday," he replied to the now empty space. Who was he kidding? She probably knew as well as he did that Max would be reclaiming his booth at least once this weekend. His constant hope was that she really believed that his mother was a terrible cook and he liked the noise of the Crashdown to accompany his studying rather than the silence of the library. He fished a $10 bill out of the worn leather that was his wallet. Tossing it on the table, he took one small fleeting glance towards the object of his everlasting affections, and then with his head tilted down, proceeded towards the exit. Unfortunately, he was moving a bit too fast and failed to catch himself before crashing into the new person entering the cafe. A strong hand gripped his upper arm, steadying him.

"Well, Mr. Evans," Sherrif Valenti drawled slowly, "in a bit of a hurry today?" Max looked up at the older man, mentally squashing the rising feeling of panic curling in his stomach. "Kids today, always in a rush," the sherif suddenly gave his a small grin. "Actually, Max, while I have you here, might as well introduce you to the newest resident of Roswell." Max's gaze panned over and down to the small girl standing to the right of Valenti. She definitely wasn't from around New Mexico, with that white blond hair and that pale skin. She stared at him unblinking with large china blue eyes. "This here's Ava." The combination of the eyes and the name for a moment seemed to make the world go a bit hazy. The sounds of the cafe faded to a dull mummer, the colors of everything but those eyes, those intense blue eyes, began to blur together. Max felt his breath quicken, his heartbeat racing. He tongue came out to moisten his now dry lips. A feeling of desire, of pure want was coming over him. It was akin to the feeling he only let overtake him in his dreams. This girl, this Ava, was never present in any dream he'd ever had but now he felt, he wanted to, he needed to. . .

"Nice to meet you, Max." The hazy feeling and the want accompanying it disappeared as quickly and as suddenly as it had appeared. The only feeling left was confusion. What had just happened? Who, he forced himself to give a small smile of acknowledgment, who was this girl? Looking at her now, he felt no attraction, no want, not a hint of the desire that had assaulted him a mere second ago. Not only was she a stranger, but wasn't even remotely his type of girl, so what had made him feel like that? How did she, for one brief moment, become the center of his universe?

"Nice to meet you, too," he fairly spit the words out and quickly broke eye contact. This girl, she knew something. She, she did something, something to him. And it wasn't good. Paranoia naturally began settle inside him. When you were in constant fear of having your identity known, an odd occurrence like feeling the world move was more than enough of a trigger. Especially when the cause of said world movement is introduced to you by Sherif Valenti.

TBC. . .